Will was sitting alone on the fancy couch in the house inhabited by himself and Hannibal. It had only been a couple months since they had killed Francis, essentially consummating the relationship they had. Unable to bear the sheer beauty of and desire he felt for the future he saw so clearly for them both in that moment, he had embraced the cannibal one last time before throwing the both of them over a cliff. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how he felt on the current day, they survived. Hannibal being Hannibal, had clearly had a contingency plan or something. They worked together to swim their way to shore, broken and bleeding. From there Hannibal had somehow arranged for someone to come sail them away to Tierra del Fuego. It had been a long voyage, but they had eventually made it to the main island, Isla Grande, also called "the End of the World," There, they had a house, money, clothes, everything two men could need to live comfortably. Will spoke very little Spanish, so Hannibal did most of the talking. Their time on the ship had been spent recovering from their multiple injuries. Broken bones, internal bleeding, safe to say Will had quite the collection of scars. His least favorite, on his face from where Dolarhide had stabbed him.

Hannibal had obviously declared this scar one of his personal favorites.

It is quite fetching my dear Will. It gives you…quite an attractive air of danger. Very alluring.

That right there was another problem for Will. The…flirting Hannibal had been dabbling in as of late. While their time healing had been spent mostly in silence, Will electing to ignore Hannibal, he called it punishment for their survival. A projection of the guilt he felt for feeling happy they were alive and together. Some higher power loved or wanted to see him suffer and kept them alive and relatively safe from harm. So feeling petty and a bit sorry for himself, Will had given Hannibal the silent treatment. Not one to be discouraged, Hannibal did not see the quiet as a deterrent. He spoke to him just as often, never seeming to expect a response. He told him stories, personal or fantastical. He spoke of art, music, recipes, anything and everything. Just to pass the to simply talk to Will.

One day, Will had eventually responded without realizing. From there on the silent barrier had been effectively shattered. They had normal conversations, but out of nowhere it seemed Hannibal had taken to…sweet-talking him.

You are quite radiant this morning Will. I presume you had a good night's rest. (Bull he had dark circles.)

Or

This shirt you are wearing today flatters you a great deal William (It was a shitty old flannel that goddamn liar)

Worst of all was the blatant touching. A brush of fingertips, a warm hand on his shoulder, or on the small of his back. Hannibal's cheek brushing his as he leaned in to whisper in his ear.

Will felt like he was slowly going mad. He knew Hannibal was in love-or at least thought he was in love with him. However, Will hadn't exactly had the time or energy to focus on whether he reciprocated or not.

Will had only ever been with women. Not that there was anything wrong with being with men; he just never thought it was for him. Never considered or experimented. Despite this, he knew he and Hannibal had a connection. He felt it deep within his bones. In the very essence of who he was, he and Hannibal were a match. Freddie Lounds would probably go so far as to call them Soul-Mates. She had after all dubbed them Murder-Husbands (Not yet at least). There was no doubt in his mind of the bond between them. The question was whether he was willing to enter into an actual relationship with him. To dive into a physical relationship with Hannibal. It would be quite a step up from when they last had been in a relationship. They had once shared an emotional one after all. Hannibal had been his rock. Refuge. His safe place. What kept him grounded when he felt as if he was losing himself.

You're supposed to be my paddle.

He didn't know how he felt about restoring that aspect let alone adding more to their daily lives. Didn't know if it was even possible, after having been betrayed and done quite a bit of betraying as well.

Will had been thinking about all this for a while now. Not only about where he and Hannibal stood with each other, but where he himself stood in their relationship. Will realized he didn't really do anything to help Hannibal out.

Of course Hannibal, as soon as he had healed, set up a psychiatric practice under a fake name and was making good money, and spending his time productively. He hadn't pushed Will into doing much of anything. No let's go out and kill someone together Will.

Hannibal brought home the groceries. The meat. Will was pretty sure it was not people. Yet at least.

Will himself spent most of his time reading, sleeping, and going out into town. He simply walked around and people-watched. He bought more books or whatever he found interesting. These outings had brought about their newest companions, two stray dogs he had found, hungry in the streets.

They were alone and starving Hannibal, I had to bring them in.

They were shepherd dogs, calm and loyal. He fed them and cleaned up after them as Hannibal had outright refused to. (Although deny it he may, Will had seen him pet them both on occasion and feed them scraps)

But him? He didn't provide money or food. He didn't even wash the damn dishes. He was essentially a freeloader and… he hated it. Never had Will liked to mooch off others. He depended on himself and himself alone.

I need to do my damn share around here.

Coming to the conclusion he needed to help out more around the house was how Will found himself in his current predicament.

I thought this only happened in cartoons!

Will thought in a panic as his eyes frantically looked around the room. He had somehow managed to put too much soap or something into the load. The machine had overflowed. All of their clothes were on the floor, which was covered in a layer of watery soap bubbles and residue. Will attempted to carefully maneuver his way across the room, knowing he needed to get a mop. The universe clearly had other plans as he tripped on one of his boxers and began to slip. Not surprisingly as soon as he had fallen back on his ass, Hannibal had walked in, home from work. His eyes widened as he saw the mess, and Will sitting on the ground, right in the thick of it.

They stared at each other silently. Will's face flushed a bit in embarrassment at having been caught in this moment of weakness. Hannibal gaped, mouth slightly open, no sound coming out, simply taking in the scene.

"…" Hannibal's mouth opened then closed. Still in slight shock at what he had come home to.

"...I got started on our laundry.." Will said weakly. He carefully avoided Hannibal's face, sure he would be upset about the mess and possibly ruined clothes.

"…Heh...Hah..Hahahaha!"

Will's head snapped up so hard and fast he actually managed to hurt his neck.

He's laughing. Oh my God he's laughing, I broke him. He's gonna snap and kill me. All over laundry.

Hannibal bent over laughing as he held onto his abdomen. Will had seen him give small laughs before, but this…these were loud and hard. It was practically a belly laugh.

It's kinda nice to hear him laugh like this. I don't think I've ever seen him so happy, or free. It's almost childlike.

Attempting to break Hannibal out of his fit, Will glowered and exclaimed, "Help me get the hell out of here so I can clean this shit up!"

After calming down a bit, Hannibal extended a hand, eyes clearly dancing with mirth at Will's expense. He pulled Will up and held him, for balance of course.

"William, did you engage in a fight with my laundry machine? I'm sure it is sorry for whatever it has done to you."

"Ha. Very funny smart-ass. No, I just used too much soap or somethin'"

"...Will there are instruction. Besides, the Laundry is something I take care of. There was no need to do this, although I appreciate your intention. "

Will sighed. "Sorry about the mess. You do so much around here, I just wanted to help out somehow I guess."

Placing a light kiss on his forehead, Hannibal smiled and replied, "Will, I enjoy providing and caring for you. However if you truly wish to help me, perhaps we can begin somewhere more simple." Will blushed at the intimate gesture, remembering his thoughts on accepting Hannibal and engaging in a relationship, when he realized where Hannibal was going with this.

Fuck. He's gonna say the kitchen

"You may help me in the kitchen"

Yup. I'm screwed. Goodbye house. You're gonna burn. Before Hannibal and I even do it in you.