Chapter Text
Will didn’t know what he was thinking, driving all the way to Baltimore just to show up at Hannibal’s doorstep without warning. Normally, he’d at least think things over before making such an irrational decision, but his night had already been chalked full of poor choices and he didn't plan on stopping anytime soon.
“Good evening, Will.”
The door creaked open, revealing Hannibal’s sculpted features illuminated by the gentle glow of light seeping from his office. Perplexed, he raised a brow, scanning his unexpected visitor from head to toe.
“What brings you here at this hour? I don’t recall there being a session scheduled for you today,” dark eyes momentarily left the profiler, instead flickering to check the watch around his wrist.
10:23 pm.
Far too late for an impromptu visit, Will imagined.
“I know,” Will admitted, brushing a hand through his hair, still damp from the rain.
Though he had dropped in without notice several times in the past, Will couldn’t help but feel a rush of guilt, especially upon seeing the bag clenched between Hannibal’s fingers and the chestnut overcoat draped across his frame.
“I need your help,” he found himself saying, almost desperately. “But I can leave—if I’m bothering you,” Will adds with a tentative waver of his voice.
“You know you’re always welcome here, Will.” Hannibal’s lips curved upward into a pleasant grin. Carefully, he stepped to the side, gesturing for Will to enter with a gentle hum. “Please, come in. I’ll put some tea on the stove.”
Will hesitated, but stepped through the entrance, making his way to the leather chair where he found himself seated during their many appointments. It’d become muscle memory at this point, shoulders slack and hands fidgety, sinking into the soft cushion until his shoulder blades hit the backrest.
Silently, he took note of the smell of wine still lingering in the air, likely from a glass that Hannibal had helped himself to before Will’s sudden arrival.
Mixed with the wine was the rich aroma of cologne that he'd come to identify as Hannibal’s signature scent. It included a variety of earthy notes, but what was most striking was its sweet undertone. Pomegranate, he recalled Hannibal mentioning.
“So, was it that you needed my help with?” From his cupboard, Hannibal pulled out a silver kettle, filling it with water before setting it on the stove’s lit flame.
"It's... complicated."
"No more complex than our usual discussions, I imagine."
"Maybe not on the same level as you picking my brain, but it's just as damning."
Once the kettle finished boiling, Hannibal added a pinch of loose tealeaves to the water. Will could never tell the difference between loose and bagged, but Hannibal always insisted that it produced a much richer flavor profile. Probably to do with his extensive knowledge on all things culinary.
"I can't provide you with the assistance you desire if you do not confide in me, Will."
"That's easier said than done."
"Yes, but you've prevailed through the many times where you felt as if you couldn't."
After going back-and-forth with what to say, Will gave in. He begrudgingly began to explain his situation.
It started earlier that night when he got home from the bureau.
A recent homicide case had Will working nearly all hours of the day. After a long week, it’d officially come to a close later that evening. It resulted in the lead suspect being apprehended at his home in Georgia, and consequently, freeing Will from the laborious task of entering another killer's mind.
Listless and beyond exhausted, he finally managed to drag himself home, free of his duties for the time being. Instead of being knocked over by a group of fur and wagging tails like he'd expected, he was instead met with his living room floor now a mess. The bag of dog food he kept in the kitchen was ripped open near the sofa, along with a container of treats that his dogs managed to tip over.
Will salvaged as much of the remaining kibble as he could, trying his best to ignore his feelings of contempt towards his dogs. After all, it was his fault he hadn't fed them dinner earlier, especially when they were strays who hadn't quite broken the habit of scavenging for their meals.
A problem arose when Will finished cleaning, realizing that the leftover kibble wouldn't be nearly enough to last the rest of the week. Deciding to get things out of the way early, he returned to his car and drove back into town, heading for the nearest store.
With it being fairly late and on a weekday, he hadn’t expected to run into anyone. The streets were mostly bare, including the store, with the exception of some other shoppers, likely those buying groceries was late after their shift.
He immediately directed himself towards the pet aisle, selecting a forty pound bag of dog food that he hoisted over his shoulder.
Anticipating it’d be a simple process of paying and leaving, Will headed for the cash register. Just as he placed the bag onto the counter, he heard a voice call out to him.
“Will Graham? Is that you?”
Will hadn’t recognized the voice at first, but as he turned to look, his heart sank.
“A former friend of yours?” Hannibal interjected. He’d been listening intently to Will’s story, only pulling away from the conversation to pour the freshly steeped tea into the cup he saved for Will’s visits; a plain white teacup with a silver rim.
Will shook his head. “Far from it. Maybe an ex-acquaintance at best.”
“The mentioning of this person seems to bother you,” Hannibal set the cup beside Will, who uttered a quick ‘thank you’ in return. “Do you wish to tell me more?”
“His name is Drew Aleman,” Will mumbled, bringing the cup to his lips. “One of my old classmates. We have some… unfortunate history.”
“Maybe it’s because I was tired, but I indulged in his insistence for conversation,” Even though the liquid burned the inside of Will’s cheeks, he continued to lap at it, slow and focused. “He mentioned there being a high school reunion back in Louisiana—where I grew up. He wanted to invite me.”
“I agreed to his request, probably to prove something to myself, but that’s not the problem,” Will continues.
“The problem being?”
“He asked if I was married, and I told him yes... along with the fact that my spouse would be joining me.”
The room dipped into a brief silence.
Hannibal was rarely ever one to be left speechless, but if the raising of his brows were indicative of anything, he was likely well aware of what Will was asking of him.
“I see.” Hannibal concluded, tilting his head. There was a slight amusement in his eyes. “I presume you're here to ask me about posing as your romantic partner then, correct?”
“Yes,” the tips of Will’s ears burned with embarrassment. It was one thing asking a friend for such a favor, but asking his psychiatrist was another. “I didn’t know who else to go to.”
“Why not Alana?”
“She’d never agree to it.”
“And Ms. Katz?”
“Hates having to entertain strangers.”
“So you've come to me lastly in hopes that your efforts will bear fruit,” Hannibal deduced. His expression remained undisturbed, yet Will could clearly see the way his jaw clenched, pulled taut with the hint of an unidentifiable emotion.
It made Will quietly wonder if he'd made Hannibal upset with him.
“I already know how wildly inappropriate this situation is,” he averted his gaze, swallowing thickly. “Even being incredibly insensitive, considering you’ve had patients make unwanted advances towards you.”
“While that notion is true, you’re not just my patient, Will,” almost as if Hannibal could hear Will’s thoughts echoing perfectly, the tenseness in his silhouette disappeared as quickly as it had come. “You are also my friend.”
Friend.
That title still confused Will. They were certainly past the point of being mere acquaintances; friendship would only be the logical next step, yet it was a label he found unfitting of describing their relationship.
“Is this a favor you’d normally do for a friend?”
“Not particularly, but there are some mutually beneficial aspects about such an agreement.”
Will had to stifle a shocked laugh. “Beneficial? Are you implying that there’s something for you to gain from this?”
“You are not the only one stricken by the inconvenient curiosity of others,” Hannibal said as sipped at his own cup. “Many of my colleagues from when I was a surgeon still pester me about my marital status. I find that it’s become rather… troublesome.”
“So in order to get them to leave you alone, you’d want to openly admit that you’re in a relationship with me?” Will couldn't seem to fathom the thought, blinking in disbelief. “I’m not exactly the most dignified person to associate yourself with, Dr. Lecter.”
“It doesn’t matter to me whether there are unfavorable rumors attached to your name.” Somehow, his words managed to make Will go warm in the face. “I know you far better than Freddie Lounds does.”
“You’d be doing me a great deal, Will. And I to you.”
Will went silent for a while, debating with himself.
"Okay,” is all that he could finally manage, his mouth suddenly feeling impossibly dry. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
-x-
“Hold on you guys—”
Will padded across his living room, stepping over the group of barking dogs as they crowded excitedly at the door. Still half asleep, he squinted through the mesh screen. It took his eyes a few moments to adjust to the light, but once they did, he could see Hannibal standing on his porch, smiling back at him.
“Dr. Lecter?” Will asked hoarsely, slightly confused. He felt a strange sense of deja vu.
“I apologize. Did I wake you?”
“No, I was planning on getting up soon anyways,” as Will opened the door, his dogs immediately rushed past Hannibal, making a beeline for the front yard.
“Come in.”
Hannibal followed him through the entrance, hands tucked neatly behind his back. Curiously, Will watched him.
“Did you need to talk with me about something?” Will leaned against his kitchen counter, bare feet touching the floor. He was dressed in nothing but a shirt and a pair of shorts, hair tousled. It was stark contrast to Hannibal's spotless appearance.
Wordlessly, he wondered if he should offer him a cup of coffee.
He eventually decided against it, realizing Hannibal was the last person he’d ever imagine enjoying instant brew.
“Yes. I was hoping we could further discuss the conditions of our agreement.”
Hannibal withdrew a hand from behind his back, slowly revealing a small bouquet of roses. “For starters, I believe we should practice in order to appear as a more convincing couple.”
Will stared down at the roses, eyes wide. “Flowers..?”
“Yes,” Hannibal passed them to him. “It’s customary to give gifts to your partner, is it not?”
Will grasped the bouquet between his fingers. He triedto produce words, anything, but nothing seemed to come out. The only sound he could hear was his heart now pounding loudly in his head.
“Do you not like them?”
“No—I mean, I don’t not like them.” Will lowered his gaze, looking up through his eyelashes. “It’s just, uh, it isn’t everyday that I receive gifts like these. I don’t even have a vase to put them in.”
“Would you like for me to purchase you one?”
“Don’t make me feel any more indebted to you than I already am.”
“Forgive me,” Hannibal thinly smiled. “It wasn’t my intention to burden you.”
Will gingerly set the bouquet down on the counter. “You’re not burdening me, Hannibal.”
“You came all this way. I’m not gonna get upset over some flowers,” Will quickly scanned the kitchen. “Would you like something to eat? I can whip up some eggs for you, but I can’t promise they’ll be nearly as good as anything you make.”
“I appreciate your offer, but I’ve already had breakfast,” Hannibal admitted. “Perhaps another time?”
Will nodded. “Sounds good.”
“I can’t help but wonder—did you really drive up here just to give me flowers?”
“You’re observant as always, Will,” as if to answer his question, Hannibal pulled out a small box from his pants pocket. “I’m afraid I did have something else prepared.”
He pushed the box across the counter. “Please. Open it.”
The box was a deep wooden color, its outside being both minimalistic and sleek. Despite that, it still had the infectious elegance that seemed to seep into everything Hannibal touched.
Will couldn't possibly imagine what was inside—if he even wanted to know.
Hannibal's expectant gaze was the only thing that managed to convince Will to open the lid, revealing a soft, velvety lining with two matching silver rings in the center.
His stomach practically flip flopped inside his abdomen.
“Hannibal, are these—”
“Wedding bands, yes.”
“If the thought makes you uncomfortable, I will not force you to wear one.” Hannibal assured him gently. “Though, it would be strange if we introduced ourselves as a married couple and did not have the rings to show.”
There was truth in Hannibal’s words that Will couldn’t deny. He never even considered the idea of wearing rings, but as usual, Hannibal seemed to always be one step ahead.
Will’s mind ran rampant.
When had he bought them? More importantly, what was he thinking when he did?
Will paused for a moment, before sliding it over his ring finger. Surprisingly, it slipped on with ease, clinging to his finger like it’d been molded specifically for him.
“It… fits?” he said in surprise, like he hadn’t expected it to. “How did you know my ring size?”
“An educated guess.” Hannibal simply replied, though Will had the strange suspicion that he knew more than he was letting on.
“It suits you nicely, Will.”
“I don’t wear jewelry often,” A heat crept up Will’s neck at the psychiatrist's compliment. “I’m not sure if I can even accept this.”
“If it’s money that you’re worried about, they were not expensive.” Hannibal folded his hand over Will's knuckles, running his thumb across the metallic band. “This is my idea. You need not feel guilty about the expenses.”
“Still. I’m the one who asked you in the first place.”
“Yes, but I also agreed, didn’t I?”
Their eyes met and it took everything in Will's power not to look away.
“I wouldn’t go along with something if it troubled me so.”
A few of Will’s dogs returned from outside, rushing over to sit by Hannibal’s feet. They sniffed at his pant leg, hoping by some chance he’d brought them a snack like he often did. When they don’t smell any meat on him, they turn away, leaving to curl up on the carpet near the fireplace.
“Your whole job is welcoming troubling people into your life, Dr. Lecter. Dangerous ones, even.”
“Perhaps that makes you a truly special case.” The smile on Hannibal's lips never leaves, as if Will’s insistence had zero effect on him.
"Truthfully, I hoped you'd agree with the intentions of inviting you to a dinner with me."
"Dinner?"
"Yes, a week from today. I'd like to bring you along."
"And if your colleagues ask about our wedding ceremony?"
"I'll simply tell them we did in private." Hannibal hummed. "What is more romantic than a couple needing only their love to be satisfied?"
Will rested his chin on his palm, staring at him suspiciously. "You seem oddly well-informed on the subject. Is it from experience with past relationships?"
"It comes naturally when your career is spent analyzing the human psyche," Hannibal replied, almost ignoring his question completely. "Along with dabbling in the occasional romance novel."
"Are you confessing your secret reading habits to me?" Will laughed.
"No, but it never hurts to explore other genres. Even if some of the work can be... less than adequate."
Hannibal lingered around Will's home for a few beats longer, only retreating once he realized that he had an appointment to attend to. Climbing back into his black Bentley, he pulled out of the driveway, leaving Will in solitude once again, only this time surrounded by the faint smell of roses.
He found it oddly pleasant.