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"This is all I ever wanted for you, Will." Hannibal's breathing was heavy, likely from a combination of pain and exertion. It was the same thing that was making it difficult for Will to stand upright, most of his weight shifted forward against Hannibal and vice versa. "For both of us."
Will adjusted his grip on Hannibal, breathing heavily around the blood in his mouth. The body next to them, left bleeding out in the moonlight, wasn't even cold yet and all Will could think about was how much he wanted everything to be like this again. He wanted that rush, he wanted the shared kill. It was the most connected he had ever felt with Hannibal, the two of them coming out the other side alive after so easily seeing each other for exactly who they were. He could see Hannibal, better than he ever had. He felt like he had been flayed and laid before Hannibal who began putting him back together as he pulled Will upright.
"It's beautiful," He answered, honestly.
And it was. Hannibal was beautiful.
He pressed himself closer to the other. Not that it made much of a difference. No matter how far apart they were, no matter how close together, they were already conjoined. And this night had only brought them closer. It felt strangely like the consummation of a marriage, one born of blood. He rested his head on the other's shoulder, finding some reprieve from his pain as he did so. He knew Hannibal looked at him before he adjusted himself to press his cheek to his forehead. This was what Hannibal wanted. Just them, against the rest of the world. Bound together and fighting for each other.
Will had time over the past few days to think over every interaction he ever had with the other, realizing more and more just how right Bedelia was. He didn't even know where the question had come from consciously when he asked her, but he figured it out eventually. He knew. He knew Hannibal loved him. And like an idiot, he never realized he was also in love with Hannibal.
Do you ache for him?
He did. He ached terribly. It was like a hole in his heart that had always been there but was made bigger by the other's absence. He wasn't certain how much of his heart he would have had left if it hadn't come to this. He would have gone back for Hannibal anyway, no matter what. Even before he allowed himself to acknowledge the one thing he had been repressing. He accepted his darkness before he ever accepted this. But he had always known it on some level. And it was the very reason he had manipulated his way back to Hannibal. Truly he couldn't live without Hannibal.
There was just one more thing they had to do. One more thing he had to do. And he knew with absolute certainty that Hannibal would let him.
I don't know if I can save myself. Maybe that's just fine.
He didn't want to be saved. And yet he did.
He adjusted his grip on Hannibal, pressing the two of them closer together.
Save us. He thought at Hannibal.
It didn't take much to push them over the edge of the cliff, especially considering that Hannibal didn't fight him. The other flailed for a second, his body reacting naturally to losing his balance before his conscious mind took over and his arms wrapped around Will. Their eyes met, Hannibal searching his as the water below them neared. Hannibal understood fully, of that he was certain. It was all too easy for him to be certain right now.
Somehow he managed to press closer, his lips grazing over Hannibal's.
The first impact stung.
The second hurt worse.
"The meat is bitter about being dead."
Hannibal's heart backflipped in his chest. If Will was trying to seduce him, it was certainly working. And he was certain that was what Will was trying to do. He really shouldn't go along with it so easily, but it was incredibly difficult not to. He saw Will for exactly who he was, saw the darkness within him, saw what he could do. And he wanted it. Will was beautiful and Hannibal had always coveted beauty. Even if it meant he would only ever be at Will's side and nothing more, he still wanted him. He wanted whatever Will would give him, which he hoped was everything. Just as he longed to give the other everything in return. He would give Will the moon if he asked.
He couldn't stop the smile that tugged at his lips, watching Will's mirroring smile in return before he dipped his head, looking back down at the meal they had prepared together.
It wasn't often that he was so overwhelmed that he had to look away. Normally he waited for Will to look away, knowing that the other had difficulty keeping eye contact. Except with Hannibal. And Hannibal never really wanted to look away. The very sight of Will was the most fulfilling experience he'd ever had. He could stare at him forever and never need anything more. Not that he didn't want more, but he didn't need it. And that was an astounding difference.
He managed to look up through his lashes as Will took another bite, his eyes glued to Hannibal as he did.
Hannibal opened his mouth, about to say more when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.
The movement was quickly followed by a loud thud and then gasping breaths. He dropped his fork, rising from his chair as Will froze in place, his eyes wide and staring at the commotion next to him. Hannibal walked around the table to Will's side and was immediately greeted by...himself.
And Will.
He looked back to Will who was still sitting in his chair, staring at the two of them as they untangled from each other. Both were wet and bloody and Hannibal could faintly smell the ocean. Both rolled onto their backs, panting after likely having the air knocked out of them.
Both looked a little older by a few years, not the same Hannibal who greeted him in the mirror in the morning. He could see blood actively flowing from Will's cheek and more blood on his white, now pink, shirt. The Will at his side, his Will, stayed perfectly still, staring at himself and the other version of Hannibal. Hannibal's other self didn't look much better. His hair was shorter, and there was blood on his grey jumper.
"Ow," His other self said, staring up at the ceiling.
"That's it?" The other Will breathed, still clearly struggling for breath. "Ow?" The other Will's head turned slightly toward the fire he was next to before he froze, much like the Will next to Hannibal. After a second, he tilted his head back from his position on the floor, staring back at himself and Hannibal. "Fuck."
Hannibal's other self turned his head, staring at the Will next to him.
Will, still staring at Hannibal and himself, reached over and tilted the other Hannibal's face up, forcing him to look back at his doppelganger and Will's.
Hannibal honestly couldn't truly comprehend what he was seeing. Part of him wanted to reach out to Will next to him. Maybe this was a strange dream, but he didn't remember falling asleep. And certainly, he never remembered having dreams as strange as this. Often times though, reality was much stranger than dreams. Hannibal had seen men turned into angels and social workers crawl from the bowels of horses. Certainly, reality was strange enough to produce an exact copy of himself and Will who happened to fall into his dining room.
After a moment, the other Will began moving again, forcing himself up along with Hannibal's other-self.
"Come on," He huffed as he pulled the other Hannibal up. "You'll get mad at yourself for bleeding on the hardwood."
Both Hannibal's and his other self's lips quirked at that.
"What happened to you?" The Will at his side asked, finally coming out of his frozen stupor.
"You," Will's other self answered. "Him. A dragon. It's a long story."
Together, the other Will and Hannibal pushed themselves up, both groaning.
Reality certainly was weird.
The Will next to him stood, still staring at himself and the other Hannibal with some amount of disbelief. Not that Hannibal could blame him. He wasn't entirely certain if this was real either. Though it would be quite the shared hallucination. He knew it wasn't something to do with the food. The meat was bitter, yes, but likely not drugged seeing as the preparation had occurred in his kitchen and Will was eating the same food. He doubted Will would drug himself as well just to drug Hannibal.
Hannibal's other self winced and keeled over slightly and the Will next to him moved forward, catching him. The other Will stumbled too, propelling Hannibal's own body into action. He would need another way to think of his and Will's doppelgangers, he thought as he pulled Will's other self closer, bearing some of his weight. It would become very confusing very quickly.
Visually, though, there were easy ways to tell the two Wills apart. The other Will had a long, jagged scar across the right side of his forehead and a stab wound in his right cheek. And now that Hannibal was close enough, he could see the long, white scar on his left cheek, hidden by his stubble. Hannibal's other self also had scars he didn't have, including one in his left cheek just over his cheekbone.
"Can't stand around much longer," Will's doppelganger said. "You'll bleed out."
Hannibal's eyes dropped back to his other self's abdomen and the hole in his jumper. He knew his other self was thinking the same thing as both began moving at the same time, making for his bedroom and subsequently his bathroom.
It was a long walk to move the four of them there.
Will clearly had another wound in his leg as every other step made him wince and tense. He was breathing heavily, obviously in pain no matter how hard he tried to hide it as he gritted his teeth up the steps. Hannibal focused on moving them up the steps, everything else including the million questions that ran around his mind would have to wait. His other self would know the way perfectly and was likely guiding Will the same way Hannibal was guiding the other Will.
Eventually, the four of them poured themselves into the bathroom, the two injured version of themselves sitting on the floor. Hannibal moved around the bathroom as Will pulled off his jacket, grasping at his sleeves to roll them up. This would be a team effort to keep the other two from bleeding out.
"What day is it?" Hannibal's other self asked, looking between him and the other two Will's.
The Will at his side shifted slightly, looking at himself and then to the Hannibal at his side. "'You slice the ginger.'" He said, quoting a line Hannibal had uttered earlier in the night while handing a knife to Will.
"You've lived all this before." Hannibal's Will, who was still standing next to him with his arms outstretched, waiting for the number of medical supplies he was about to be handed, said to his other-self.
"Not exactly," The other Will shifted. "There were no party crashers that night."
"How long has it been?" Hannibal asked as he lowered himself to the floor.
The other Will pushed him away, looking over at Hannibal's other-self. "Him."
"Will," Both Hannibal's protested.
"Gunshot wound to the gut trumps multiple stab wounds."
Rather than protest, Hannibal obeyed.
His Will helped him take off the other's jumper.
"I didn't realize you were so eager to get me out of my clothes," Hannibal's doppelganger said lightly, earning a surprised laugh from the Will next to him and a flushing of his Will's cheeks.
"It's not exactly like we're strangers." The other Will said, shifting to begin tugging at his own shirt. "You have seen me in my underwear before."
There wasn't a person in the room who could deny that given that the second time Will and Hannibal were together, Will had answered the door in nothing but a t-shirt and briefs. Hannibal focused more on the wounds of his other self while his Will began helping his doppelganger, pulling at the shirt that was plastered to his chest.
"How is this even possible?" His Will asked as he freed his other self from his blood and ocean soaked shirt.
"I don't know," Hannibal's other self answered.
"One second we were in the ocean, the next we're on the floor interrupting a dinner we had four years ago," Will said.
Hannibal looked up from the stitch he was currently placing in the other's wound to look over Will's injuries. He could see the bullet in his left arm from where Jack shot him, but there were more scars since then. He had another bullet wound in his right arm and a large scar across his abdomen that almost looked like a smile.
It was hard to see that Will and his Will as the same person, and yet it was also hard to see them as different. Even in the few minutes they had all been in the same space, it was so obvious where they overlapped with each other and yet their differences were so stark. Oddly, it reminded Hannibal of his own relationship with Will and now with his other-self.
His other self had already numbed his wound before Hannibal ever started stitching, though he knew it wasn't to make it easier on himself. It was so the process would go faster so Will's wounds would be tended to.
"How bad is it?" The other Will asked as he began tugging at his pants, trying to peel them off with his own help.
"Not bad," Hannibal's doppelganger answered.
"Hannibal," The other Will said, causing Hannibal's hands to freeze. He wasn't certain Will had ever called him by his first name. It was always 'Doctor' or 'Dr. Lecter' in that drawl of his that sent shivers down his spine. "Shut up."
If it were anyone but Will, they might die for that. Except Hannibal found it endearing, even as the other's ocean blue eyes focused on him.
"I'm right," Hannibal said, earning him a glare.
"That was rude, Will." His other self said.
"Eat me," Will answered, earning a glance of approval from his other-self.
"So they are us," His Will said, discarding his other self's pants in the pile of wet, bloody clothes.
"Believe me, I'm just as confused as you are." The other Will said, finally making eye contact with himself.
"You look like hell," Will answered himself.
"Your bedside manner is excellent," Will responded and Hannibal couldn't help but laugh at the banter Will was exchanging with himself.
"We both know what our bedside manner is like." Will gestured back and forth between him and his injured self.
"Yeah. And four years does nothing for it."
Hannibal made eye contact with himself and his other self leaned forward so he could focus on the wound on his back.
He wasn't expecting the brand and he especially wasn't expecting the flash of anger in the other Will's eyes.
"You're not going to kill him," Hannibal's other self said to the Will at his side, looking over at him.
The distraction of the two of them on each other gave Hannibal a chance to study the brand more. It was a Verger brand and given the fact that he had warned Will against murder by saying 'he', Hannibal assumed the person who gave him the brand was Mason Verger.
"It seems we've had a busy four years," Hannibal said lightly, beginning the stitches in his back.
"Like I said," The other Will began through gritted teeth. "It's a long story."
"Only in certain parts."
He finished the stitches, helping his other self sit back, and then nodded toward Will. The two of them changed places. He began to look over the other Will's wounds while his Will began opening bandages to cover the stitches of Hannibal's other-self. He could almost feel the urge of his other self to pull either of the Wills closer, an urge he fought often. The other Will shifted, spreading his legs so Hannibal could move closer.
"I'll numb you first and then I think I'll stitch your cheek."
Will stayed obediently still as Hannibal retrieved more lidocaine and then began numbing the areas around each of Will's wounds. He heard his other self shift and ask Will to retrieve some warm water. Four hands set to work as he numbed while his other self began flushing wounds. His other self began to reach for the sutures when the other Will caught him, lowering his hands.
"How are you?"
Hannibal and his Will were all but ignored as the two of them focused on each other again. He knew the look his other self was giving Will, he had given it many times to his Will. And only lately had his Will given any response to it. Though the other Will seemed far beyond his other self's hesitation. His face was open as he looked at Hannibal in return, searching his eyes.
"You tried to kill us." Hannibal's other self said quietly.
"You and I both know that's not what happened."
"'Adapt. Evolve. Become.'" Hannibal's other self quoted.
Will's eyes shot to his other self, the two of them having a silent exchange.
"Tell him," The other Will said to himself. "Don't make my mistakes."
The air in the bathroom seemed to drop 15 degrees as Will spoke. Hannibal's hands froze as he readied himself to begin the stitches on Will's cheek. But Will wasn't looking at him. Neither of them was.
Hannibal found himself reaching up, brushing some now dried curls from Will's face. "Who did this to you?"
Will's gaze tore away from himself to look at Hannibal. "You did."
"Will," Hannibal's other self warned.
"No," Will said. "I can't do this again. I can't."
Hannibal was surprised at how much easier Will could express himself after four years. Will turned to look at Hannibal's other self, obviously pleading with his eyes. Hannibal wanted to reach out to turn Will's head, to force the other to look at him. Or maybe even his Will. It was clear that the other three in the room knew something he didn't, and that was irksome. Of course, his other self and Will would know information he didn't, given that they had seemingly returned from four years in the future. But his Will knew something as well.
Another silent conversation occurred, this time between the other Will and Hannibal's other self before he turned back, twisting so Hannibal had better access to his cheek.
"This will be uncomfortable," Hannibal warned, earning a laugh.
A heavy silence settled in the room as he stitched Will's face, feeling the way everyone else in the room watched him. Both Wills were watching him, one out of curiosity and the other mostly just because he was there. And he knew his other self was watching to make certain he didn't hurt Will. He was protective, even with himself. They were still silent as Hannibal moved to his shoulder and then down to his leg.
"Think I'll live, Doctor?" Will asked, protracting the word doctor as he always did and seemingly still did in the future.
"You'll live," Hannibal answered with a soft smile.
He sat back on the floor, looking over everything with blood still on his hands.
"I lied," His Will said, breaking his silence. "It wasn't what you think. The meat."
"Who?" Hannibal asked, his heart stopping in his chest.
"Randall Tier," The other Will answered, leaning back against the bathtub he and Hannibal's other self were propped up against. "I couldn't kill Freddie." Hannibal was certain he was saying this to both versions of him. "I wanted to, but she called Jack. And I had a choice. Kill her or keep him placated while I figured everything else out. I would have killed her. But Jack would have come for me right then. And then he would have come for you." Will's head rolled, facing the other Hannibal. "We should have left when you served the lamb."
The other versions of him and Will shared a moment, one that he felt like he was invading as he turned to look at his Will. He wasn't looking at him, his eyes fixed on the floor. He supposed he deserved what would have been Will's betrayal, given how much he had done to Will already. But strangely enough, he wasn't upset. He should be, especially given the particular act that Will had done before his and Hannibal's older selves appeared but he couldn't be. Mostly because Will had confessed. And Hannibal was still withholding a secret from him. One that likely their older counterparts knew too.
"I have to get off this floor or I'm going sleep here," The older Will declared, shifting uncomfortably.
"Yes, that would be terrible." Hannibal's other self said, dragging everyone's attention back to the very real reality that there were two of each of them sitting on the floor of Hannibal's bathroom.
Will reached up and brushed his hand through his hair and as he pulled his hand free, they all noticed the salt on his palm.
"I guess it's a good thing we're already by the tub. You know that you won't let either of us sleep with salt getting all over the pillow." The older Will said.
"I'll grab some chairs." The other Will said, standing and leaving for a moment, only to come back with two chairs quickly. "You get him," He said, jutting his chin at his counterpart before he reached for Hannibal's other-self.
"Uncomfortable with the idea of washing your own hair?" Hannibal's older self asked, accepting the help up.
"It's not that," Both Will's said in unison. Neither Hannibal had to ask before the older Will continued. "You forget. I know you."
The four of them were silent again after that, but it was easier this time. Lighter. And helped by the fact that both older versions of himself and Will were clearly tired. He washed Will's hair, careful not to pull too hard as the salt fell off into the tub. His Will focused on his other self, also incredibly careful as though he was worried he'd hurt Hannibal's older counterpart. Afterward, Hannibal gathered pajamas for himself and Will before leaving the room for them to change, his Will in tow. Not that it mattered much, but he was attempting to at least give Will his privacy.
Neither he nor his Will went very far though. He reached out, grasping for the other and pulling him closer.
"I'm sorry," He said quietly, not letting go of Will's hand. "Will you forgive me?"
"Would you forgive me?" Will asked in return.
"I forgive you," Hannibal answered immediately.
Will swallowed thickly, searching his eyes. Will, in any form, was beautiful, but he was heartbreakingly beautiful now given just how vulnerable his ocean-colored eyes were.
"I forgive you," Will said softly.
"Stay." Hannibal found himself saying. "Your dogs will be fine for the night. Stay."
The other nodded and opened his mouth to say something when behind them, the door opened as their counterparts stepped out, leaning on each other and clearly half asleep.
"Thank you," The other Will said to him, leaning half on Hannibal's counterpart and swaying slightly.
"You're welcome, Will."
They awkwardly shuffled through the hall, past each other until their counterparts disappeared into one of the guest bedrooms. Hannibal moved back into his room and grabbed Will some pajamas for himself.
"Goodnight," Will said softly as he accepted them, their fingers brushing.
"Goodnight, Will."
They parted, both seemingly reluctant, as Hannibal moved down the stairs to first clean up the discarded dinner, not that there was much to do, and then to grab a plastic bag to put the clothes on his bathroom floor in. From there, he returned to his bathroom only to find that all the blood on the floor had already been cleaned and all that was left was to bag the clothes. He wasn't exactly tired, though the whole endeavor involving his and Will's doppelgangers had taken quite some time and it was well into the night by the time everyone parted ways. He resolved to read, settling himself into his bed for the night.
The house was silent, though that didn't last long.
It started quietly, so much so that he thought he imagined what was obviously the squeak of a bedframe until he heard it again. And then again. He found himself surprised. It was obvious that in the future, there was some sort of intense relationship between his older self and Will's older self, but he certainly wasn't expecting it to be that intimate. Or at least he hadn't expected it to happen this night when the other two were so obviously exhausted yet seemingly unable to keep themselves apart. It wasn't very fast, likely due to physical restraints, but also because of emotional ones. He knew if it were him — and it was — he would want to take his time with Will. And he knew how desperately he, right then, wanted to fold Will into his arms.
He pushed himself from his bed, going to make his way toward the kitchen for a glass of water. As he opened the door, another door opened and Will stepped out of the guest room down the hall.
He looked so right, his feet bare on Hannibal's carpet and clothed in Hannibal's clothes. Their eyes met and Hannibal's heart stopped. He thought it stopped before. But truly, it stopped now. Will stopped his heart.
He took a step back, opening his door more.
Will seemed to understand, coming closer and eventually slipping past him and into his room. Hannibal shut the door behind him with a soft click.
"Am I hurting you?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Hush. Come here."
A month went by, with Hannibal hosting himself and Will as guests. Will supposed they would have to leave eventually, especially since Hannibal's house had often been the source of a lot of foot traffic those years prior. But for the month they were there, they were recovering. Hannibal seemingly healed quickly, able to move around quite easily after the first week. Will still had limited range of motion in his arm, but he could bear weight on his leg much better, and moving down the stairs was easier. He and Hannibal often had the house to themselves, given that the other Hannibal and Will still had to work.
They spent most of their time in the house together. Will had found, as he knew he would, the tarot cards Hannibal had in the house and took out the three of swords, leaving it reversed for Hannibal to find. He had recognized the significance of the other's valentine when he saw it, but he never had the chance to tell him. When Hannibal finally saw it, he found Will and they lost themselves in each other on the floor of the study. After the first night, they didn't have sex with the other Hannibal in the house. It felt cruel. But that didn't mean they stayed away from one another. It felt oddly like a honeymoon, enough to compliment the consummation that night on the cliff.
Will wasn't certain if that was the past or the future or if it was another timeline completely. He still didn't know what brought them there, why they were there, or if they would ever leave. But strangely enough, it gave them a second chance.
They would all have to run eventually.
His younger self would soon be investigated for the death of Randall Tier.
They would run.
Their younger selves would probably make for Florence. He and Hannibal would make their way there eventually. But he wanted to go somewhere warmer.
Maybe they could go to Cuba.
That night, a month after he and Hannibal arrived four years in the past, he found both Hannibals preparing a rather large meal.
"Your other self will be here shortly," The younger Hannibal said, passing something over to his counterpart.
"What are you making?"
"Lamb," His Hannibal said, looking at him with a sly smile.
"We're leaving then? After tonight."
"Ideally," The younger Hannibal answered. The other paused then, setting down the food he was preparing and looking at Will. "How do you see us? Me?" His amber eyes gazed at Will and his heart squeezed the same way it always did at that loving, adoring gaze. Even when he wouldn't admit it to himself. "I look at you, and I look at Will. And all I see is you. Just somehow there's more than one. I see a few more scars but I still see you."
"I'm still me. Just a few years older and a few stupid mistakes wiser. I keep thinking that the reason we were brought back here," He gestured to the older Hannibal. "Was to prevent those mistakes and to be given a second chance. I've loved you for a while. And I couldn't admit it. I wouldn't admit it. Because I felt betrayed. The one thing I feared the most was not knowing who I was. And there for a while, I lost myself. Even though you always knew. And I saw you. And I just kept hiding. Building forts. To keep away from myself, from you. I buried what I knew about you and I hid and then I felt so betrayed when you dragged it out. I won't let that happen again. I can't." Will couldn't stop speaking once he started. "I felt so torn apart without you around. Like I was missing half of myself."
"You don't have to hide from me." The older Hannibal said, his Hannibal. He had walked around the kitchen island and was now at Will's side.
The other reached up as Will turned, cupping his face between his hands and pressing a kiss against his lips. Will grasped him and pulled him in closer. It was so easy to lose himself in Hannibal. And he wanted to. God, he wanted to. He couldn't wait until they were out of Baltimore. When they could leave the house without having to leave at strategic times. Or when he could just leave with Hannibal in general. He wanted to be somewhere they could just be them. Somewhere they could flex the relationship between them, poke and prod at it, without being somewhere they could be caught so easily. He just wanted Hannibal.
He didn't even notice that the doorbell rang.
Hannibal began pushing them through the house, away from the kitchen. As they reached the stairs, Hannibal stopped, one foot on a step with Will tucked against him. The other was looking over his shoulder before he cocked his head slightly. And before Will could look at what Hannibal was seeing, the other scooped him up, carrying him up the stairs.
"You really shouldn't-" Will began before he heard footsteps echo behind them. "Hannibal." He tried again before they were entering a dark room. Hannibal's room. "Now?" He asked lowly as the other set him down.
"Now," Hannibal answered.
And then the door shut behind them.
Hannibal's mouth found his again and he felt the other backing him through the room until his back collided with another body. And somehow, he knew with perfect clarity, that the other body belonged to Hannibal and the hands that shifted against his back were his own.
Oh.
"You said you knew me," Hannibal whispered in his ear. "Then you should know I am quite the hedonist."
"You've been waiting for this," Will teased. But it came out breathy and wanton, but also hesitant. Will wasn't expecting this. He certainly didn't know if either of himself would truly be comfortable with it.
"It's just me," Hannibal whispered as Will felt his arm extend. "And you."
The four of them were suddenly pressed close together. So close that his other self's hands fisted in his shirt in an attempt to stay upright.
"Hannibal," His other self said, almost pleading.
"I have you," He could hear the younger Hannibal's voice, and just how broken and loving it was. It was something that he had heard before. The last time the lamb was served. Hannibal had pleaded with him, without pleading, for him to admit his subterfuge. To admit and ask for forgiveness and Hannibal would have given it.
"I need you," His Hannibal whispered.
It was then that he understood. This wasn't about Hannibal's hedonism. It wasn't about the fact that there were two of each of them and allowed for acting on some very terribly dirty thoughts. This was a do-over. This was the last time Hannibal had served lamb. This was that night done right. This was the night in the kitchen. This was the day Will found Hannibal in Florence. This was the morning after Muskrat farm. This was the cliff. This was all those times they could have chosen each other and the last time when both did. This was a chance to choose each other again. And again. And again.
Choose me. Hannibal was asking. Because I choose you.
"I have you," He parroted, pressing closer to the other.
Four sets of lungs sucked in a breath in tandem as lips met. He sighed into the kiss contently as they moved toward the bed. The dark room was likely done for Will's benefit, both of them, since neither Hannibal would truly care about being in a compromising position. They were the same after all. And none of them were alone.
They began to move them, Hannibal dragging Will to the other side of the bed while the side they were on creaked slightly under the added weight.
"Allow yourself to be intimate with your instincts, Will." The younger Hannibal said.
His hand backed up toward the bed, letting them part slightly. He could barely make out the other slipping off his shoes before Will heard the bed creak again. He kicked off his own shoes and followed him, crawling up Hannibal's body. He could see Hannibal's smile as he settled himself over the other, his knees on each side of Hannibal's hips. He knew, somehow, that his other self was in the exact opposite position, pressed into the bed with the other Hannibal over him.
It wasn't as though they hadn't been in either of these positions, quite recently in fact. But something about the situation felt far more intimate.
He lowered himself, finding Hannibal's lips once more. The other wrapped his arms around him, the two of them pressing closer. Will winced slightly as he adjusted his leg and Hannibal reached up, gently petting over his body. Even the first night, both of them exhausted but strangely aroused after everything they had been through, Hannibal had been gentle with him. And he had been gentle in return.
The other's tongue swiped across the seam of his mouth and Will opened willingly. Hannibal's hands continued petting over his body, calming the few nerves that were still crackling like livewires. He relaxed against the other, his body fitting against Hannibal's like puzzle pieces falling into place. He could taste a hint of wine, likely from the dinner abandoned downstairs. He must be really important to Hannibal if Hannibal prioritized him over food. He ground himself more against the other, feeling the other's hardening length press back against him. Hannibal clearly had no intention of letting him go as eventually his hands stilled and were holding Will in place against his body.
Not that Will wanted to go anywhere else.
He ran his hands through the other's hair, feeling the silky strands fall through his fingers. He decided he liked Hannibal's hair longer. Alana had kept it too short in BSHCI, but it had grown out over the month. He liked it.
He moved from Hannibal's lips to his neck, feeling the way the other turned his head willingly, giving him access. He couldn't help but remember the way Hannibal had torn into the Dragon's throat with his teeth. Who had dealt the final blow, was ultimately responsible for Dolarhyde's death, didn't matter. They had killed him together. Whether it was Hannibal tearing out his jugular that did it or Will gutting him. It truly didn't matter. All it did was strengthen their relationship, one born in blood and consummated in death.
His teeth sunk into Hannibal's neck, sucking and licking against the skin he found there. Hannibal moaned slightly, the first sound in the room that wasn't just a deep inhale. And it felt like a dam broke. There was a litany of noises, some from the other Hannibal and Will, some from his Hannibal under him. And one that Hannibal managed to elicit from him as he pulled at Will's curls, tugging his head back.
The two of them were sitting up then, as Hannibal's hands moved into Will's shirt.
But he had no time for patience. Not with this. Not when they could be close again.
He reached up, his fingers twisting in Hannibal's shirt, and he tore. Buttons flew in a few directions and Hannibal hissed slightly at the sudden exposure to the air. Will was certain anyone else, even Alana, would have died for that. But all that he earned was his own shirt torn off, both pieces of fabric discarded on the floor.
They fell back onto the bed, hands roaming more. He didn't need to see Hannibal to know everything he would find when he touched him. He knew him as well as, if not better, than he knew himself. Hannibal's hands roamed downward, sliding into his unbuttoned pants and grazing over his briefs. The sound the action pushed from his throat was nothing short of a whimper before Hannibal's mouth found his collar bone. Will's hand shot to the bed to balance himself as Hannibal licked and bit and sucked a mark onto his collar bone. One of Hannibal's hands moved back up for a second, only to slide inside his briefs, cupping his ass. He groaned slightly, rocking himself against the other to have some relief from the arousal that was now roaring through him like wildfire.
He wasn't expecting another hand to drop onto the bed next to him and then eventually grasp his own.
For a moment, he forgot about their other-selves. But that didn't last long as he shifted his hand to grip the hand belonging to Hannibal's younger self.
When Hannibal let go of his collar bone, he shifted slightly. It was strange how well he and Hannibal knew each other, given that as he leaned forward, seeking the younger Hannibal's lips, the other was seeking him in return. He felt his Hannibal under him shift, no doubt mirroring his action with Will's younger self.
Something within him wanted to snap. It was strange to have some pang of jealousy when it was really directed against his younger self. But what was even stranger was feeling Hannibal's hand tighten on his hip. He was jealous too, of himself.
And he knew without a shadow of a doubt that that jealousy extended into Will and Hannibal's younger selves.
He groaned slightly when Hannibal captured his bottom lip between his teeth, pulling slightly and then letting him go with a soft pop.
It was right then, that one of his Hannibal's fingers graze his hole and the groan turned into a protracted moan. He wanted more.
He needed more.
"Hannibal," He managed. "Please."
They were moving again then as Hannibal pushed them off the bed, his hands grasping at Will's pants and pushing them down. He shuddered as his hands brushed over Hannibal's legs as he mirrored the other's action. It was strangely clumsy for the both of them as they fought out of their clothes, trying to bare each other to the other. He heard a snarl somewhere else in the room. The younger Hannibal. He couldn't help but smile to himself, as he heard their other-selves and just how desperate they were.
It was the same desperation he felt, but it was different in a way. He wanted to be closer, he needed to be closer. But there was just something different. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He knew their other-selves and moved more onto the bed as his Hannibal guided them back to the bed.
The other cupped his face in his hands, bringing their lips together right before their bodies brushed. Will sucked in a breath. It was like a jolt of electricity went straight through his body. He pulled the other closer as they scrambled back onto the bed. He heard his other self moan followed quickly by a satisfied hum. He knew exactly what they were doing. He knew exactly what Hannibal's mouth felt like on him, he doubted the other Hannibal was any different.
He could feel Hannibal's lips quirk under his own, amused at the actions of their younger selves.
Will reached between them, finding Hannibal's length. The other gasped into his mouth and Will hummed in self-satisfaction. He set a slow pace, which mirrored their need to be slow and careful with each other. He supposed that was the difference between their younger selves and them now. That Will and Hannibal, who never had to experience that night in the kitchen, never experienced Florence or Muskrat Farm. Never experienced three years apart and all the damned pain that came with it. They were desperate for each other because of unleashed physical need. Of course, there was emotion below it. They loved each other. Just as Will loved his Hannibal and his Hannibal loved him in return. But there wasn't that dull ache under the surface anymore. There was nothing between them, no past pain, no denial, and punishment. They were just Hannibal and Will.
This compared to the versions of them who were four years older. Will had more scars, Hannibal was touch starved. They had carved into each other so much more, marked, and tore each other apart. They had denied and denied and denied. Hannibal let himself be captured just so Will could always find him and Will had left them both in pain for three years. Their love was something so much different than their younger selves. Not better or worse. Just different.
No matter how desperate they were, neither could force themselves to be rough and quick. Their physical wants didn't override their emotional wants. His Hannibal needed to feel Will, needed to feel their joining over and over. And he needed Hannibal to both stoke that fire within him and calm it. That couldn't be done quickly.
Will felt one of Hannibal's hands travel up his body and he knew exactly what the other wanted before he ever asked for it. He opened his mouth just as Hannibal's fingers brushed over his lips. The other hummed below him as he began licking and sucking, wetting the other's fingers. His hand continued to drag slowly up and down Hannibal's cock, his own cock untouched.
When Hannibal deemed his fingers wet enough, he pulled them from Will's mouth and shifted back down his body. Will dropped himself, his mouth finding Hannibal's so easily. They were magnets really, constantly drawn to each other.
"Oh god, Hannibal." His younger self moaned.
Will's lips quirked and he sighed contently against his Hannibal.
The other began to tease at his hole lightly, going no faster than Will was as he dragged his hand over Hannibal's cock.
Hannibal pushed the tip of his finger inside him, just past the ring of muscle, making Will shudder over him. He rocked back on the other's finger, causing his length to brush against his hand and Hannibal's cock. Both of them moaned in tandem.
"I can't," Came the younger Hannibal's voice and heard the bed shift. He didn't have time to look in that direction though before a low light filtered through the room and suddenly he could see his Hannibal under him.
In that instant, Will forgot about their younger selves. He forgot about the world outside. He forgot about everything that wasn't Hannibal under him. How had he not noticed before? How had he been so blind? Why had he made himself so blind?
Was his heart even beating anymore?
Hannibal's amber eyes were gazing up at him adoringly, his other hand moved up into his hair, brushing it back from his face. Will's eyes trailed over the other's face, seeing the silver of his hair, the sharpness of his cheekbones, the strength of his jaw. He didn't even realize he had frozen in place.
"Hi." He said quietly, unable to force his brain to say anything clever about the sight that greeted him.
Hannibal's lips quirked slightly and his gaze, somehow, became more adoring. "Hello, Will."
He dipped his head, their lips pressing together. Both of Hannibal's arms wrapped around him, pressing him closer as Will let go of his cock, shifting so his arms could wrap under Hannibal's body. He felt Hannibal's legs pull up, spreading his own apart and pressing their lower bodies closer together.
He heard more than anything, a bottle of lube fall on the bed before their other-selves were back at each other again. His Hannibal broke their kiss, turning his head slightly to see and grasping Will's chin between his fingers to turn his head as well. As lost as he felt in Hannibal, it was incredibly clear that their other selves were equally as lost in each other. They were clinging to each other with Will's younger self under Hannibal. His hand was fisted in Hannibal's hair while his other hand was lining himself up, about to sink into Hannibal's body. It was strange seeing another version of themselves who felt so similar yet so different that it almost felt like an invasion of privacy to watch them in such a compromising position.
He turned his head back just as his Hannibal did, their noses brushing lightly and sending a strange shiver down Will's spine.
They rolled so Will was under Hannibal and the other began to busy himself, his lips finding every scar and wound on Will's body. He started with his forehead, his tongue running over the jagged scar there before he moved to his left cheek and the long thin scar from the scalpel. And then do his right cheek which was now a scar itself. Then down to his shoulder which had mostly healed as Will's fingers grazed over the brand. Some part of him wanted to tear into it, to make it his own, but a larger part of him was so tired of their pain. Hannibal's tongue trailed over the bullet wound in his right arm as Will shifted, awkwardly kissing the scar on Hannibal's cheek. Hannibal shifted to the other bullet scar before moving down his body, kissing until he reached the scar on his abdomen.
Will was so overcome with emotion he felt like he could choke as Hannibal kissed the scar so gently.
And then he continued lower, his tongue brushing over Will's aching length before he felt one of his legs being lifted onto Hannibal's shoulder. Hannibal continued lower, his breath ghosting over Will's hole before he felt the other's tongue. Hannibal moved slowly, taking his time. Hannibal's tongue teased him briefly before he felt it push inside him. Will moaned, loudly and shamelessly as his hand moved into Hannibal's hair. The other hummed against him, licking into him filthily.
Will groaned, his back arching as next to him, the bed began to creak slightly, and echoing moans filled the air. It should not have been arousing as it was.
He could hear the sounds of bodies shifting against each other as Hannibal's finger joined his tongue, sinking inside him. Will's hand tightened in the other's hair as Hannibal moved in and out of him before he added another finger, scissoring Will open. Will's moan broke midway through as Hannibal's fingers crooked, finding his prostate. Hannibal added a third finger, stretching him slightly but not enough to burn.
Hannibal was as tired of their pain as he was.
Before long though, he was too wound up. Pleasure and somehow even more arousal were curling in his gut. He needed a release. He needed...
Hannibal crawled back up his body, reaching for the lube and pouring a generous amount.
Finally. Will thought as Hannibal sank against him, lining himself up.
Will wrapped one leg around the other's waist as Hannibal's eyes found his own again. He sunk into him, splitting him open and filling him in a way he never knew he needed until Hannibal. The other didn't stop until he was fully sheathed, his cock fully inside Will's body.
Will rocked his hips slightly, forcing a moan from Hannibal's lips.
Hannibal began shifting, thrusting slowly into Will's body. He knew some part of Hannibal wanted harder, rougher, but he never gave into it. Not like their younger selves who had basically attacked each other. The bed was now shaking under their every movement as Will's younger self thrust into Hannibal. The slapping of skin on skin echoed through the room, accompanied by moans and choked breaths.
Will pulled his Hannibal closer, content when Hannibal caged his body with his arms. Their sex was slower, more sensual. It wasn't just sex. It was making love.
Their eyes met and no matter how much he wanted to close them, to bask in the pleasure that was coursing through his body, he couldn't. He couldn't look away from those damned amber eyes that trapped him.
Hannibal leaned forward, their foreheads pressed together as he slowly thrust into him. Will's hips moved in tandem, rolling up into every thrust. He finally did close his eyes then, as Hannibal moved to bury his face in Will's neck.
Some part of Will was utterly shocked, in a way he couldn't truly comprehend.
This was Hannibal Lecter. Hannibal the Cannibal. Il Mostro de Firenze. The Chesapeake Ripper.
This was Hannibal. His Hannibal. Hannibal belonged to him and only to him. And he belonged to Hannibal. It didn't matter whether it was the them of four years ago. Or the ones who had been through the worst self-inflicted torture and came out the other side together. He was Hannibal's, and Hannibal was his. He reached, grasping one of Hannibal's hands, their fingers lacing together only to find that the spot where their hands landed was right next to another pair of hands.
Four sets of hands tangled together and he didn't know whose hand was whose, only that it was exactly as Hannibal said.
It was just him. And just Hannibal.
He didn't know how long they were there. He didn't know the time, didn't know how many times they shifted positions or how many times his mouth found Hannibal's younger self or his Hannibal. He barely knew which way was up. He was certain at one point the lips he found were his own even.
But he did know that somehow, the four of them managed to reach their edges roughly at the same time.
Will came after a particularly poignant thrust, Hannibal aiming for his prostate. The other wasn't far behind him as he buried himself in Will. He cradled Hannibal against him, the two of them riding out their orgasms together.
Hannibal hadn't even pulled out of him when Will grasped his face, forcing their eyes to meet.
"I love you," He whispered, earning a soft smile.
"I love you too."
Hannibal leaned forward, about to kiss him again, when Will spoke once more, his lips brushing over Hannibal's.
"It's beautiful."