He wishes he was home, instead of watching these cars shift in front of him. It's a cold night and his boyfriend is anxiously waiting for him. Quickly a rag tag bunch of cars streak ahead of the pack, desperate to get to their destinations. Flashing lights, screaming, they move towards him. He can't see anything over the searing white but doesn't move. He waits patiently.
One of the cars beep, skidding over the tarmac, unable to stop. Faster, faster, faster!
Closes her eyes… he steps.
Backwards.
Onto the gutter, back to the path he left. Turning home he walks back to him apartment. It's not like he hasn't played this game before, in fact, he's been doing it for weeks now. The adrenaline rush, the blankness, the only time where he has a choice. It's one of the only thing that he truly possesses. His life. He likes owning other things a well, but they had to be interesting… rare. The suit, the subjects in high-school, the university he went too, who he talked to, the girlfriend he had, were all so boringly normal. All set out for him by a society of dull, somewhat tiresome people.
"…I'm home."
The lights are off but he knows his way around their home. Slowly he turns on the lights, watching their little house brighten. Bare wooden floors; polished and without stain, the walls; tan brown, while the designer kitchen sparkles. The whole place as neat and tidy as he had left it. Sighing with relief he opens the door to his bedroom and opened his arms too catch the curly haired man.
His boyfriend.
He smiles and leaning down, trails sweet kisses down his neck, smelling of the new strawberry shampoo he bought him yesterday.
"I know. I'm sorry, work was… busy." Hannibal smiled and looked down at Will, kissing him on the cheek once before moving into the bedroom. Will didn't follow, but moved around the kitchen. Pots and pans bang, but after a while something started sizzling. After a while he joined him in the kitchen, amused at his efforts.
"What did you decide on?" The burly haired man points to a recipe and continues to measure out the ingredients. Hannibal walked up beside him and starts slicing the meat. There wasn't much but it didn't matter. It was the first time he had got to sit down to a proper meal. Tonight, he was excited.
It was after dinner, Will was lying in his lap, half asleep, while he sipped wine, staring into the fire. The crackle and pop of the fire echoed around the house, breaking the silence. He yawned and the doctor glanced down, taking the last gulp of his wine before waking him up.
Will walked tiredly into the bedroom. Hannibal washed, dried and put away the single wine glass. He walked around the apartment, turning off the lights and locking the front door. Finished with the night's routine he followed Will. He locks the bedroom door as well. Hannibal moved to the bathroom, and, after waiting for his boyfriend to finish cleaning his teeth, pulled Will closer.
"Open your mouth."
The hole where Will's tongue was healing nicely. Hannibal smiled.
He always loved his meat fresh. It was so rare these days.