"Do you ache for him?"

Were Will completely honest with himself, yes he did. And while his regular visits to his mind palace had sated him to a degree, little could compare to the sight of his nemesis in the flesh.

"Was it good to see me?"

It had been three long years. It wasn't just good to see Hannibal. It was maddeningly so.

"I want to meet Lecter. How would I manage that?"

Now, indignantly bound to a standing gurney before him in his private space at the BSCHI, Will felt the physical ache return in full force.

Those three agonising years apart vanished as the two men gazed appraisingly at each other, mutual longing concealed beneath the finely-tuned, counterfeit gentleness of the Lamb and the calm demeanour of the Demon determined to devour him whole.

"I need you, Hannibal."

The pieces on Hannibal's side of the game were moving into position. Will Graham's becoming was but a few moves away.

"Please?"


Will watched the passing countryside in silent contemplation as Hannibal drove them towards his house on the bluff and weighed his options. In stark truth, Will didn't want to be rid of Hannibal, could all too easily imagine the grey undertones that would dominate his own world in the absence of the bright red strokes bestowed by his hands. His righteousness however, like an irrepressible itch in his brain, demanded that he rid the world of the man. Or at least, that's what he told himself. Maybe he couldn't live without him, but tonight, one way or another, he intended to find out.


Hannibal grabbed his upper arms and tossed Will unceremoniously onto the bed. Will raised himself on his elbows and made to back away up the mattress and out of Hannibal's reach, but too quick, the man grabbed his ankles and pulled him towards him again, flat onto the bed as Hannibal moved above him. "There are many things of which I think little in this world, Will," Hannibal stated, bracing himself above Will's body. "Intellectually, life is a wondrous and satisfying experience. Emotionally however, I've found it somewhat lacking." Seeing the intent on Hannibal's face that would not be denied, Will twisted his body and turned onto his stomach. "Until I discovered you," he whispered, pressing himself further into Will's splayed form.

Will's heart pounded wildly, reverberating through the soft blankets, now strewn across Hannibal's bed during their struggle. The want was almost overpowering. He closed his eyes and concentrated his mind on the purpose of their presence here. "You realise he's out there now. Watching."

"The Dragon can wait," said Hannibal, calm determination telling in every move he made to divest Will of his clothing. On this night, he would coalesce into one kiss, every previous encounter both in light and in dark, that he had known with Will Graham, and Will, had unknowingly shared with him.

"You realise in your resistance, futile as it is, you are denying yourself as much as you are denying me…" Hannibal's words tingled on the back of Will's neck. He took his jaw gently between fingers and made to turn Will's lips towards his own.

Will tilted his head back, out of immediate reach. "No."

"No?"

Will gave a small shake of his head. "No kissing."

"May I ask why?" enquired Hannibal, resting his lips against Will's ear, leaning closer still and trapping his own arousal between their bodies.

Will had no intention of giving up that information to Hannibal. The man wielded enough power over him already. The thought of sealing what they were, what Hannibal had made him, with something as intimate as a kiss was unacceptable to Will. But he would allow one concession, on this night that would likely be their last.

"I just— I just want to feel you. I want you inside me."

Hannibal paused for no more than a beat. "Very well. As you desire," acquiescing to the request safe in the knowledge that the upper hand remained his. He moved with gentle purpose within his empath, bodies as synchronous as the minds within their mortal, throbbing coils. And as senses heightened towards their shared goal, Hannibal resorted to one piece of intimate knowledge about Will that he knew would crumble his defences. In the throes of his own passion he spoke with deliberate purpose.

"Jūs esate mano, mylimieji. Amžinybę. Ne, net mirties mes būti atskirai."

Just as Hannibal felt his own pleasure crash relentlessly over and through him, he managed two more strangled words.

"Pasidavimas, Will."

And that, as they say, was that for the empath.

At the peak of Will's climax, he had one clarifying realisation. The vault in the room in his mind palace that had been created for his Ripper, where Will stored his memories of their nights together flashed in his mind. Now, instead of his faceless stranger, Hannibal lay there, waiting for him. Will Graham was the only one in the world who knew the combination to open that lock. For now, the world would be safe from Hannibal, as long as Will kept him close.

And given that fate had determined he had no say in the matter, Will surrendered.

While from his dark concealed vantage point, the Dragon watched.


Will sat up against the pillows and watched Hannibal pull on a sweater and trousers and exit the bedroom. He heard the clink of crystal and the cork pop from the bottle and imagined the doctor pour himself a glass of wine, swirling the dark red liquid, watching his own reflection on its surface twist and swirl. It was in that moment that Will heard the loud sound of shattering glass puncture the air. He calmly rose from the bed and pulled on his own shirt and trousers, raising his own wine glass to his lips as he left the bedroom and headed for the dining room.

The Dragon was here.


Notes

"You are my beloved. Not even in death will we be apart."

"Surrender, Will."