Author's Note:

Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham

Title: Dance Inside by The All-American Rejects

Warnings: Warnings will be listed in each individual chapter

Disclaimer: Hannibal belongs to NBC. The original characters are the property of Thomas Harris. I own nothing but the plot and make no money from this story.

Summary: Hannibal Lecter is the new boy at Chilton's Academy for Young Gentlemen. It's clear that he's odd from the beginning, but what Hannibal didn't expect was to find a friend- and perhaps more- in fellow student and roommate Will Graham.

Warnings: dark!Will, dark!Hannibal, violence, homophobic language

His reputation had proceeded him. Hannibal had gone through the same routine in his last seven boarding schools, so wasn't expecting anything differently here. The teachers were torn between being amazed at his intellect, and being fearful that he'd burn the school down with everybody inside. Hannibal had no plans to, but seeing as how it was a possibility, he decided not to think too badly of them for their fears.

Hannibal had been forced to fly commercially, his uncle having needed his private jet for business, so had arrived later than originally planned. He'd missed orientation and classes had already begun, so Hannibal was alone as he walked through the large, dark halls of Chilton's Academy for Young Gentlemen.

It was a horrid name, Hannibal mused, used by a man who thought himself better than he was; who wanted to prove to everybody at first glance that he should be respected for his intellect, his money, and his station. Seeing as how he was nothing more than a doctor with a rather large inheritance, Hannibal didn't see the need to show him any respect. He did, of course; it would be rude not to greet the Headmaster politely, with either "doctor" or "sir". And Hannibal Lecter was anything but rude.

'Have you been shown your room?' Dr Chilton asked when Hannibal had declined coffee, tea, and soda, taking one of the plush leather chairs before Dr Chilton's large mahogany desk.

'Yes,' Hannibal inclined his head. 'I believe I'm sharing with a boy named William Graham.'

Chilton's entire face twitched, the man unable to hide even the simplest of emotions. Hannibal was intrigued; who was Will Graham to make Frederick Chilton salivate like that?

'I see, I see,' Chilton nodded and hummed, trying to appear only mildly interested. 'And you haven't met him yet?'

'No, I'm assuming he's in class with everybody else.'

Chilton nodded again and shifted through the papers on his desk. He wasn't organised, leaving everything in heaps. Hannibal would have assumed he'd have had everything prepared for Hannibal's arrival; another mark against the doctor.

'Ah, here's your schedule,' Chilton beamed, showing too many teeth. Hannibal ignored the gesture and took the paper, maroon eyes flicking over the neatly printed words.

It seemed that he had six classes a day, with two breaks, a half-hour one and one an hour and a half. The dining hall was open from six to seven-thirty am, and again open for breaks, and later dinner. The students had to be in their rooms by a specific time, those in the older years having more free time. Their weekends were completely free, but a pass was needed to leave campus and travel to the small town a few miles away.

'Now, is there anything you want to discuss, Mr Lecter?' Chilton asked, all bright eyes and shiny teeth.

He was trying too hard to be Hannibal's friend, which the teenager found distasteful; Hannibal was sixteen-years-old, Chilton in his mid-thirties. Hannibal needed a principal, not a friend. Chilton was supposed to demand respect from his students, while still being someone that they could talk to. He tried too hard.

'No,' Hannibal said, 'though I understand that I'm supposed to talk weekly with the school therapist.'

'We prefer to think of Dr Bloom as a counsellor,' Chilton replied. 'But yes, you'll speak with her once a week until she sees fit to either see you less frequently, or not at all.'

Hannibal nodded. It was understandable; he was an orphan, had had a difficult childhood, and had severe behavioural problems at all his other boarding schools. He'd be more concerned if Dr Chilton hadn't ordered therapy.

'May I go now?' Hannibal asked. 'According to my schedule I can make it to English with Mr David.'

'Of course, of course,' Chilton clapped his hands together and stood. 'I hope you find your time at Chilton's Academy for Young Gentlemen educational, Mr Lecter.'

Hannibal held back a smirk and gave Chilton a polite nod. 'I'm sure I will, Dr Chilton,' he said before leaving. He seriously doubted it.

{oOo}

Like all schools, the classroom seemed to be divided into threes; the devout, the indifferent, and the idiotic. The devout sat in the first few rows, eyes on the teacher or the white board, taking notes religiously and never once talking out of turn. The indifferent took notes, but were more interested in yawning or gazing out the windows, at their desks, some scratching at the dark wood with the ends of their pens. And, of course, there were the idiotic; those only attending such an elite school because their parents had too much money and not enough time for their children. They heckled the teacher and threw things at each other, made life difficult for those unfortunate enough to sit within their line of fire.

Those were the students who grinned at Hannibal as he entered the classroom, mouths practically salivating at the smell of fresh meat. Hannibal ignored them, and the class as a whole, and handed his late slip to the teacher, Mr David. He'd run into Dr Bloom when leaving Dr Chilton's office, and she'd wanted to "chat" before he went to class. She'd written him a slip, but Hannibal would have preferred to speak to her when he was forced to, not when she jumped him.

'Ah, yes, of course,' Mr David fiddled with his glasses, casting a suspicious eye at Hannibal. No doubt wondering if he was the devout, the indifferent, or the idiotic. His intellect would point towards the former, his behaviour the latter. Hannibal preferred to think of himself as chaotic neutral; don't push him, and he won't push back. Unless he was bored. Mr David finally cleared his throat and turned to the class. 'Class, this is Hannibal Lecter, the new student. I'm sure you'll all treat him with the respect he deserves.' The devout nodded, the indifferent just stared, and the idiotic grinned at each other. 'Hannibal, would you like to tell us a bit about yourself?'

Hannibal bit back a sigh. It was always the same, and this dance was one that he'd no doubt go through in a number of his other classes. If the teachers didn't want to alienate the new students, they shouldn't dangle them before a pack of hungry wolves.

Or dogs, in the idiotic cases.

'As you have already been told, my name is Hannibal Lecter,' Hannibal drawled, 'I was sent here by my uncle, Count Lecter, after being expelled from my boarding school in Germany.'

It had been his seventh, this one currently his eighth. Before that had been Paris, Denmark, and a brief time in Lithuania.

'I will only say this once,' Hannibal said, letting his sharp maroon eyes rove over his fellow students, 'any jokes made about my name, my accent, or anything about my person will be met with violence.' Mr David coughed, and a few students snickered. 'From personal experience I know that this won't deter the more simple-minded students currently sitting in this room,' Hannibal said. 'If that is the case, all I can say is that I did warn you, and any bodily harm you find yourself suffering from will be your own fault.'

With that said, he looked at Mr David. 'I'm going to sit down now.'

It was a statement, not a question, and Mr David could do little but nod dumbly as Hannibal moved between the rows. He took a seat near the back, far enough away from the bigger bullies to remain out of their sights for now, but not so far away that they'd think he was scared of them.

The desks all seated two, and this table was the only that housed one person. The boy was short for his age, with thick, curly brown hair, pale skin, and a fine trail of stubble across his soft face. He wore glasses that hid his eyes from view, eyes that briefly darted to Hannibal, but hid behind the dark frames.

Hannibal smiled slightly but focused on unpacking his bag. If the boy didn't want to make friends, then Hannibal certainly wasn't going to push.

The class settled after Hannibal's introduction, and soon Mr David was droning about old texts and new that the majority of the class clearly had no desire to study. Hannibal paid just enough attention to learn that he already knew the information being discussed, and then devoted his time to contemplating the meal plan at Chilton Academy. The food would no doubt be better than most fair served at your typical American high school, but Hannibal was very particular about what he put into his body. If Chilton's failed to meet his standards, he'd contact his uncle and have food flown in just for him. Uncle Robert never did mind catering to Hannibal's every whim, as long as Hannibal worked for what he had.

Hannibal was brought from his musings by the realisation that the teacher was speaking to the boy beside him. Hannibal glanced at him to see the boy fidgeting, pen tapping against his notebook, eyes darting from the teacher, to the boy sitting in front of him, and then to his notebook, gaze never staying in the same place for long.

Mr David sighed. 'Have you read the material, Will?'

Will? Hannibal thought. I wonder...

'Y-Yes,' Will stuttered, but still didn't look up.

'And?' Mr David asked.

Will opened his mouth to answer the question, but folded at the last second and slammed his teeth together, head shaking from side to side. Mr David sighed again and made a mark on the roster, no doubt a strike against Will's behaviour.

He went back to talking, the class soon moving on from snickering at Will to either pay attention or doodle in their notebooks.

'If you knew the answer,' Hannibal spoke softly, making Will jump, 'why didn't you say it?'

'I... uh... w-what makes you think I knew?' Will finally got out. His head was turned in Hannibal's direction, but his eyes were darting from Hannibal's ironed school shirt, to his tie, to his chin and back again.

'You knew,' Hannibal stated.

Will snorted lightly and looked away, once more facing the front of the room. 'If I answered,' he mumbled, 'it wouldn't make any difference. I'd be bullied for being smart, and bullied for stuttering. Better to keep quiet.'

'And earn a mark against your name,' Hannibal hummed. He could see how a teacher's annoyance would be preferable to being a target by bullies, especially for someone of Will's stature and apparent disposition. Teachers could be won over; bullies, not so much. 'Are you William Graham?' Hannibal queried.

Will jolted slightly before nodding. 'Yeah,' he said, 'and you're Hannibal Lecter.'

'Clearly,' Hannibal said in some amusement, seeing as how his name had been stated twice just after his arrival. Will also would have been informed on orientation day that Hannibal would be his new roommate.

'Did you really get expelled from your last school?' Will asked.

'Yes,' Hannibal said, 'and the one before that. The others all asked me, politely, to leave.'

'Why?' Will asked. Hannibal looked at him, and Will's eyes met his briefly before widening and darting away. 'I didn't mean to be rude,' he mumbled, 'but we're, uh...'

'Sharing a room,' Hannibal finished for him. 'Yes, I can see how knowing my temperament might help.' Will just nodded. 'I had behaviour issues,' Hannibal shared, 'particularly with anger. A few students rubbed me the wrong way, and I snapped.'

He glanced at Will, and again met the younger boy's eyes very briefly.

'Don't rub me the wrong way, Will, and we won't have a problem.'

'Okay,' Will nodded, 'seems fair.'

Hannibal offered the other boy a rare smile and, surprisingly, Will smiled back. It was hesitant, and Will clearly wasn't used to actually smiling at anyone, but it was a smile none the less.

Fascinating, Hannibal thought as he turned back to his work.

{oOo}

Hannibal and Will shared about half their classes, so Hannibal saw him more often than not. Hannibal was forced to spend his first break in the office trying to find a new copy of the textbook needed for his advanced mathematics class, and his next three classes weren't shared with Will, so they didn't see each other again until lunch.

They shared the same lunch period, and Hannibal was surprised to find himself looking forward to Will's company. Hannibal was charming, but he was odd, and he never really felt the inclination to make friends, so usually spent most of his time alone. Will, however, fascinated Hannibal; he was intelligent, kind, sensitive, and suffered just as many mental illnesses as Hannibal himself. He didn't have Hannibal's coldness, though, or his indifference, which made Hannibal want to study him. They were both alienated by their peers and their elders, but they'd both developed into very different people. Hannibal wanted to know why.

He also wanted to catch another, longer, glimpse of the darkness that lurked just behind Will Graham's eyes. Their short time together had told Hannibal that Will Graham had an excess amount of empathy; it had led to him avoiding eye contact at all costs, which had further alienated him from those his own age. He'd barely held eye contact with Hannibal, and when he did he jumped, as though he'd skimmed over the surface of Hannibal's deepest desires. Hannibal knew how dark his desires truly were, so wasn't surprised that Will would be concerned- terrified- about what he'd seen.

But what was truly interesting was the darkness that had met Hannibal's own, only briefly, but still there, buried under layers of anxiety, stutters, and avoided contact. Will Graham, the boy who could read minds and emotions, apparently finding a kindred spirit in the dark, dangerous psyche of Hannibal Lecter.

It was delicious.

Hannibal entered the dining hall and joined the rather long queue to collect his lunch. Thankfully there was a multitude of foods available, and Hannibal was able to pick chicken curry with a side salad and chips that didn't make his lips curl too much. He added a chocolate pudding to his tray and turned, eyes skimming the crowded hall.

Will was sitting alone, which wasn't surprising. Hannibal made his way quickly over to the young boy and asked, 'May I join you?' before sitting. Hannibal abhorred rude people, and would never stoop so low himself unless absolutely necessary.

Will jumped, but smiled when he realised that it was Hannibal. 'Of course,' he said and gestured to the table. It was large, made of wood with long, narrow stools instead of seats, and could seat six comfortably. Hannibal sat at the end opposite Will, and made sure to keep his eyes on his food as he laid his napkin over his lap. He had already deduced that Will did better in social situations when allowed to slowly settle into them at his own pace. Hannibal was in no hurry to dissect Will's brain, so let the other boy grow comfortable with his presence.

It was odd, Hannibal could admit. He cared little about anyone, even his uncle, who had saved him from the cold, harsh rooms of a small Lithuanian orphanage. Everybody he'd met in his life, from his fellow classmates to his teachers, even strangers, were little more than blips on Hannibal's radar. But Will Graham had somehow managed to worm his way past Hannibal's defences without trying, and all within a five hour period. Truly interesting.

'So,' Will cleared his throat, hesitated, as if unsure just why he was starting a conversation in the first place, 'how are you enjoying Chilton's so far?'

'It's as dull as every other boarding school I've been to,' Hannibal admitted. 'I find that I learn better when allowed to go at my own pace, and when allowed to study subjects that catch my interest. Cramming hundreds of boys into a few small buildings and expecting them all to learn at the same pace is ridiculous.'

'Yeah,' Will chuckled, 'the education system, huh? No wonder so many of us turn into psychopaths.'

Hannibal glanced up at the last word. 'Do you find psychopaths interesting, Will?'

'Sort of,' Will shrugged. 'Possibly because doctors have tried to diagnose me as one in the past.'

That brought an amused tilt to Hannibal's lips. 'You aren't a psychopath, Will.'

'I know,' Will snorted. 'I'm a messed up young man with too much empathy.'

'You'll learn to control it, in time,' Hannibal stated. The assurance in his voice startled Will, who met his eyes.

'You think so?' he asked.

Hannibal nodded. 'All you need is the right psychiatrist to teach you coping mechanisms that work for you. When you discover what is effective in calming you down, in pulling you out of the minds of those around you, you will be able to lead a happy, healthy life.'

Will stared at him for a moment longer, the longest eye contact he'd ever held with Hannibal, before glancing away. 'You... th-think so?' he asked again, voice softer, this time; hopeful.

'Indeed,' Hannibal replied.

Will chuckled softly and gave Hannibal an amused smile. 'Thanks, Dr Lecter.'

Hannibal laughed, and Will's eyes lit up, as though he wanted to drown in the sound. Hannibal could understand the feeling; Will's smile was like a breath of fresh air after the stagnant hallways of a cluttered house. Hannibal wondered, briefly, if he'd ever be able to truly figure out Will Graham. He'd known the boy less than a day, and already he was captivated.

'I hope to one day be a surgeon, Will,' Hannibal told him.

'Then you should get used to the title,' Will teased.

'What do you want to be?' Hannibal asked.

Will shrugged one shoulder. 'A cop, maybe, or a vet. I want to help people.'

'And animals,' Hannibal added.

'Yeah,' Will nodded. 'Animals don't judge people.'

'You mean they don't judge you,' Hannibal said.

Will's eyes met his again, but this time they were narrowed, dark. 'Are you trying to psychoanalyse me?' he demanded.

Hannibal smiled briefly. 'I'm afraid that I can't switch it off, Will. I've been around far too many psychiatrists, and I've picked up their tricks. Forgive me.'

'It's... fine,' Will said slowly, 'it's just... you wouldn't like me, if you really saw me.'

'Wouldn't I?' Hannibal queried.

Will pushed his vegetable stew around, pushing vegetables beneath the dark brown broth, as though drowning them. He finally looked up again, and Hannibal let some of the monster within out, the darkness bleeding into his eyes. He could only just hide it, but people could still sense that there was something off about him- not enough to really pry, but just enough to make them weary.

Hannibal had never allowed anybody to see the real him, not even his uncle, not even a little piece. For some reason, he wanted Will to know.

Hannibal was rewarded with the darkening of Will's eyes; not only did his pupils widen, but the light blue-grey of his irises seemed to suddenly be swamped by something else; some primal hunger that wasn't allowed in polite company.

Hannibal smirked.

Slowly, Will returned it.

Their moment- and Hannibal was sure that it was a moment, even though he wasn't sure what kind of moment- was interrupted when something slammed into the back of Will's head with a wet splat. Will's upper body was forced forward before he could right himself, and he winced when he reached back to touch his head. His hand came away covered in mashed potatoes and gravy, and Will growled as he turned to see who had thrown it. Hannibal did, too.

A group of boys- seven, all crammed onto their table- were laughing uproariously at Will's sate. One- a dark-skinned by with close-cropped hair- still had a spoon in his hand, his plate holding the remains of steak and mashed potatoes.

'Goddamn it,' Will grunted and turned back around.

'Hey, Graham!' the boy shouted. 'Who's your boyfriend?'

Will growled again but grabbed his napkin to start cleaning himself up.

'You aren't going to do anything?' Hannibal asked.

Will took a deep breath before saying, 'As much as I'd like to, it wouldn't do any good. Tobias is bigger than me, stronger, and he's got a bunch of idiots working with him. They'd throw me in the lake again.'

Hannibal had been shown the lake earlier that year, when he and his uncle had toured Chilton's before Hannibal was enrolled. It was large, filled with debris from hundreds of school boys' lunches, the water dank and sickly smelling.

'He's thrown you in?' Hannibal asked, voice hardening.

Will nodded. 'Multiple times. His friends, too.'

'Their names?' Hannibal demanded.

Will looked up, curious, but didn't comment on Hannibal's darkening face. 'Tobias Budge, Abel Gideon, and Garret Jacob Hobbs are the ring-leaders. The others are nobodys, they don't start anything if they're alone.'

Hannibal inclined his head. 'Tobias is the one who threw potatoes at you?'

Will nodded, then jumped when Hannibal stood. 'Hannibal!' he called, but Hannibal ignored him in favour of walking over to Budge's table.

The dark-skinned boy looked up at him with an evil grin, one usually found on repeat offenders. One day, and soon, Budge would find himself on the end of a lethal injection. That was if Hannibal didn't find some way to make him disappear first.

'What do you want?' Budge demanded.

'I want you to apologise for throwing potatoes at Will,' Hannibal stated. 'And I want you to promise that you won't do it again.'

Budge stared at him in disbelief briefly before laughing, his friends joining in. Hannibal just waited patiently, demeanour relaxed, face blank. 'Are you serious?' Budge snorted.

'I'm always serious,' Hannibal replied.

Budge laughed again. 'Listen, Hanni,' he started, and Hannibal's eyes narrowed. Strike one. 'Will's a little faggot.' Strike two. 'You'd better just stay away with him, alright? He's not much good.'

'Well, he makes good hunting,' a boy with short brown hair said, earning laughs from the others.

'Yeah,' Budge grinned. He turned back to Hannibal.

'You're not going to apologise to Will?' Hannibal tried one last time.

Budge's grin morphed into a twisted smirk. 'You, and Graham, can suck my dick.'

Strike three.

There was silence for one, maybe two seconds, before Hannibal reacted. He wrapped his fingers around Budge's pristine tie and pulled. Budge's face slammed into the table once, twice, three times before Hannibal let him go. Blood was gushing from Budge's broken nose and mouth, but Hannibal ignored it as he pushed Budge back, the taller boy hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Budge's friends scrambled back, shouting in surprise, and the shocked silence that had fallen upon the dining hall at Hannibal's actions erupted. Boys screamed and shouted, teachers called for order, and Hannibal straddled Budge's body. He wrapped both hands around Budge's face, and grinned when Budge's terrified eyes met his.

Hannibal squeezed, and Budge's friends tried to drag him back, but they couldn't get a grip, Hannibal wouldn't let go. Budge choked for air and his face darkened before going pale, the life draining from him slowly.

'Hannibal!'

Will's shout brought Hannibal back to himself, and it let one of Budge's friends and a teacher finally pull him free. Budge's entire body heaved as he sucked in air, the boy choking on blood as he gaped. Hannibal allowed himself to be led away, eyes down as he was dragged from the dining room. He only briefly saw Will, standing on the edge of things, eyes trained on Hannibal from behind his glasses.

Will's eyes were dark, and a smirk was twisting at his lips.

Hannibal's heart skipped a beat.

{oOo}

'I didn't think you'd still be here,' Will admitted when Hannibal found him. The older boy hummed as he joined Will on the small bench. Will was staring out at the lake he'd mentioned earlier that day, eyes roaming the pristine, mirror-like surface.

'My uncle is a wealthy, well-connected man,' Hannibal explained, 'Dr Chilton didn't want to lose him as a benefactor. I faked the proper emotions to show that I regretted my actions, and managed to leave with a warning in my permanent record, and two sessions a week with Dr Bloom.'

'She's easy to get along with,' Will told him. 'But be careful. She's good at digging.'

'I doubt that she'll be able to find what every other psychiatrist has missed.'

'You mean your psychopathy?' Will queried.

Hannibal chuckled. 'Do I fit all the indicators of a psychopath, Will?'

'No,' Will answered immediately. 'At least, not yet. You're too different to be a psychopath.'

'Indeed,' Hannibal mused.

'I feel like a chess piece,' Will admitted, drawing Hannibal's gaze, 'like the world is a chess board, and you're the person moving the pieces.'

'Why am I the game master?' Hannibal asked. 'Why don't you see me as a fellow chess piece?'

Will grinned. 'You're too smart to be a chess piece, Hannibal.'

'As are you,' Hannibal replied, making Will snort. 'What do you see yourself as?' Hannibal asked. 'What piece?'

'Some days I'm a pawn; little use,' Will admitted. 'Sometimes I'm a knight, because knights move differently to everyone else, and you've already said that you think I'm different.'

Hannibal nodded, and didn't push when Will went silent for a minute, two, before turning to look at Hannibal, blue eyes on maroon.

'Sometimes I'm a queen,' he continued. 'The most valuable piece besides the king himself, but the one everybody wants to protect.'

'I see,' Hannibal mused. 'And if you could see me as a chess piece, what would I be?'

'You'd be a rook,' Will stated with certainty. 'You're valuable, and dangerous, but you have standards and rules. Other people might not understand them, but you do have them. That makes you predictable, but only if people can work them out. And if they can, it'll probably be too late.'

Hannibal stared at him, and Will held his gaze. Something within Hannibal, something dark and primal, so full of violence and the need for blood, connected with something in Will that was similar; they weren't the same, but close enough. Close enough to understand.

'I'm not normal,' Will murmured, eyes still on Hannibal's.

'Neither am I,' Hannibal replied. 'But perhaps we can learn to pretend together.'

Will was silent, digesting Hannibal's offer. Until, suddenly, he closed the distance between them and kissed him.

His lips were chapped but warm, tongue equally so when Hannibal swiped against Will's lips, begging entrance. Will granted it and they duelled for dominance before Will let him in, let Hannibal lead.

Will tasted like darkness. And a promise.