The hand that had been fisted in Will's jacket just moments ago was now smoothing the material down over his shoulder, holding the same fluid grace of his therapist in its movements. Echoes of Hannibal could be seen further still in Nigel as a strange humor filled the twin's face, Nigel tilting his head to the side in consideration at Will much as Hannibal had done earlier that day.
The resemblance between the two was strikingly eerie, a number of small quirks and ticks evidently shared by the men, though it was hardly uncommon to find such similarities in twins. That being said, the differences between Nigel and Hannibal were stark, like graffiti painted on a church, the most prominent thing being that Nigel liked to smile.
It was a small thing but it made Will look deeper, daring to meet eyes he knew so well up to a point. Nigel and Hannibal shared the same strange eye color, but in Will's quiet opinion, Nigel wore it better as dark eyes flicked up and down his body. While Hannibal's eyes tended to run more opaque and cold, the reddish brown color set in Nigel's irises was rich and warm in tone.
As Will studied the man standing before him, he knew that Nigel was returning the favor. Will found he surprisingly didn't mind. It wasn't that kind of stare, the one he was used to from others. Nigel wasn't looking at him like he was strange or a means to an end, like the basis of a paper or a tool to catch killers. He was looking at Will like he was a piece of ass that he was seriously thinking about fucking up against the wall. Will had seen such a look on others often enough to recognize it, but it had certainly never been directed his way before.
Extreme empathy working for and against him, Will tried not to blush under the man's scrutiny as he continued his own. Feeling like an idiot for having to tell himself that, the first thing Will noticed about the man was that Nigel seemed to be unguarded with his emotions, unafraid to smile when it suited him, and unlike his brother's 'now you see them, now you don't' micro expressions, Nigel's facial quirks were big and bright with dark humor. His grin alone spread out across his entire face to crinkle skin in an appealing manner, making his eyes sparkle warmly with odd points of embedded red. Cool, calm, and ever so collected, Hannibal was a miser with his expressions, the twist of his lips, whether it be a smile or a frown, were small and discrete, barely there and entirely unnoticeable unless you knew how to read the man.
"And what has he told you about me?" Will asked, finally driven to words. The way Nigel was looking at him, he felt he had to say something. With anyone else, Will could easily imagine how that conversation would have gone, what topics it consisted of, and even the exchange of words between the two people involved to a fairly accurate degree. Most people's interest of him lied in his strange cocktail of neurological disorders, the ones that made him such a brilliant profiler for killers and other sorts of crazy. He also knew how those conversations went because half the time they were spoken right in front of him like Will was not in the room or already a specimen in their mind.
When it came to Hannibal though, Will found he wasn't entirely sure how that topic of him would be discussed, if at all in depth. His peculiar doctor showed no more interest in Will's disorders other than how to deal with them or work with them to improve the quality of Will's life. If anything, Hannibal was more like a friend trying to keep him sane rather than his therapist.
With one last pull from his cigarette, Nigel flicked the butt away to roll into the streets, blowing out a cloud of blue grey smoke. Will found himself watching the cloud be carried away by the wind.
"Nothing bad, I assure you." Nigel said in a low voice, the same smooth accent as Hannibal's sexualizing his words so they came out sounding filthy. It made Will shiver though Nigel thought it was from the cold. An arm was thrown around his shoulders, Will suddenly pressed close to Nigel's side, the man using his body to break up some of the wind's chill. It served a dual purpose, the closeness making it easier for Nigel to walk Will back in the direction of the bar scene he had just left.
"Why don't I buy you a drink and we can talk about it? I'd love to hear what Hanni's been up to." Nigel purred in Will's ear, reminding the empath just how close the other man was to him. Never one for prolonged physical contact, especially from a stranger, Will could already feel himself going stiff under the unfamiliar grip upon him. The odd nickname for his refined doctor was enough to give Will reason to pause in his escape.
Instead of shoving the other man off of him like he normally would, Will let himself be guided like a date, down a set of stairs and into a higher end bar than he had previously been in, or ever stepped foot in really. It was dimly lit as any other bar, but the furnishings were real leather and dark wood, and the floors weren't sticky and polished to a high sheen. Most of the patrons here were male and wore suits, so Will could only presume it was a gentleman's club of some sort. It was a hell of a lot quieter than the dive he had previously been in, soft jazz being played live yet discreetly so as the background music. This place smelled better as well, less like depression, spilled beer, and vomit, and more like expensive colognes, herbaceous gins, and finely made cigars.
Will was seated at a small table in a corner by Nigel and told to stay there, far away from the circulation of bodies and potential threats of conversation, his back placed to two walls. It was a small thing, but something Will was very grateful for. He hated it when people stood behind him, feeling safer and far more comfortable here than he had been before.
His eyes tracked Nigel as the man stalked…there was really no other word for it…stalked through the bar, people moving out of his way like it the most natural thing in the world. Taking a deep breath as he watched Nigel order their drinks, Will braced himself for an hour of awkward social interaction that would ultimately end in an even more awkward conversation with Hannibal with Will attempting to explain what he had said to frighten his brother away. He was not looking forward to this.
"Hanni tells me you're a whiskey fan. I don't know your pick of poison so I hope you'll forgive me for getting one of my favorites." Nigel said upon his return, carrying two snifters filled two fingers high with rich amber liquid as he took a seat across from Will. The offered glass was cradled in Will's hands, the empath carefully keeping his eyes upon the play of whisky and how it clung silken to the sides of its container.
"That's fine, thank you. I'm not choosy. For curiosity's sake, what am I about to drink?" Will asked, lifting up the snifter to note the double pour. He tried to decide if Nigel was trying to get him drunk or if the man just enjoyed his liquor. From the grin on Nigel's face, Will was willing to bet both as he took a tentative sip. Will knew instantly that it was better quality booze that he was used to, the bourbon practically evaporating on his tongue like an angel's kiss of smoke if smoke tasted like vanilla, maple, honey, and heaven.
"Pappy Van Winkle." Nigel said, enjoying Will's quiet appreciation who was familiar with the brand though he had never partaken of it other than once while at Hannibal's after dinner. That alone told him of the quality and rough price of the spirit, Will keeping his gaze trained up the play of liquid gold in the dim mood lighting.
"Strange name, but they got the important part right." Nigel continued, grinning to himself about something as he took a deep swallow like it were water and not around a grand a bottle.
"It's good. Thank you." Will sighed, slightly annoyed that another trait was shared by the brothers. They obviously both had a love for the finer things in life and the money to freely spent on it, even if their tastes ran in different directions. He would have to make a point of buying the next round to keep them on equal footing. A hum almost like a laugh drew Will's wayward gaze from his drink to the man sitting across from him, lounging in his chair like it were a throne.
"He wasn't kidding….but then, he rarely does. Hanni's tends to leave that stick lodged up his ass. In the days of our impetuous youth, he used to be a lot more fun." Nigel chuckled, the sound of it only deepening when Will furrowed his brow in question. His eyes only got as far as Nigel's collar, noting how good the buttery tan leather looked against the white button down underneath it. Rough fingers stained with nicotine and smelling of gunpowder caught Will's chin, making him look up all the way.
"Hannibal told me you didn't like eyes." Nigel answered the unspoken question, holding Will's stare with a hooded look of his own now that he had it. "Which is a damn shame considering yours are lovely enough to wound."
Shaking his head to free himself, Will turned away with a glare, feeling suddenly very uncomfortable. Hearing another deep throated chuckle from his company, his gaze fell upon Nigel's hands and went no further.
They had the familiar bone structure and vein pattern under tanned skin. Will had made a study of Hannibal's hands often enough to know, but Nigel's fingers moved in such an unfamiliar way, curling around the cut glass without any of the gentle grace the doctor incorporated into each and every one of his movements. Hannibal moved with the careful poise of a professional dancer while Nigel moved with the languid, boneless grace of a stripper.
"How did you know it was me?" Will asked Nigel's hands, his eyes only going as far as the wrists. He knew Nigel was watching him, could feel it, the man reading Will in his own way as he took another drink of his whiskey, draining the glass dry in one swallow that made Will wince. He had an idea now of how Hannibal felt when the connoisseur watched him drink his wine at dinner.
"Like I said, Hanni's told me all about you." Nigel said, his tone a touch smug about his superior knowledge. One of those strong hands reached across the table's short distance to clink his empty glass against Will's still way too full own. "If you don't drink that, how am I going to buy you another one?"
Eyes darting up to take in the upturned corners of Nigel's smile, Will didn't know how to respond to that, so much attention being focused on him. "I'll buy the next round," Will offered, draining his glass in one go. He was in some desperate need of courage before attempting to fall back into conversation. "What has he told you?"
"Hold that thought, darling." Nigel said, the endearment coming off his lips easily as he rose out of his seat, like he had been calling Will that all his life. All Will could do was watch as Nigel returned to the bar, passing an impressive wad of hundred dollar bills to the bartender in exchange for a bottle of what they were drinking. The back of his neck getting uncomfortably warm and sticky, Will wasn't sure how he felt about Nigel spending that much money on the alcohol or on him. He also knew now that Nigel was definitely trying to get him drunk. Will snorted at that thought. Nigel was in for a rude surprise then because Will had spent the better part of a decade pickling his liver in rotgut.
"What's so funny?" Nigel asked, retaking his seat to pour them another round.
"Nothing." Will shrugged, taking a generous sip of his drink which was well more than a double now that Nigel was free pouring for them both. He may have mixed feelings about strange men buying him really expensive alcohol, but Will was not one to waste such things. He would always question the gift horse, but he wasn't about to complain about its teeth. "I told you that I was buying the next round. On top of that, I've held my thought long enough so give me your answer."
"He told me that you were the poor bastard 'gifted' with seeing into others people's minds. That you knew how they thought just by looking at them." Nigel expanded. That remark caught Will by surprise, partially because he heard the quiet distain held within the quotation marks around the word 'gifted'. Most people held a sincere interest in his unique abilities though few understood them.
"You don't think it's a gift?" Will tested as he made a study of Nigel's cheekbones and nose. They were a little bit more tanned and scarred than Hannibal's.
"I don't envy anyone who has to look at other people's dirty laundry." Nigel said softly, liking how distracted Will looked at he studied his face. Calloused fingers caught Will by his chin once again, forcing skittish eyes to meet his own. "And I don't let my dates buy their own fucking drinks, especially when they are as beautiful as you are."
Stunned into compliance for the moment, the calloused pad of Nigel's thumb caught Will's bottom lip, brushing over the sensitive skin of it as maroon eyes so close to Hannibal's own bore into startled blue grey, drinking in Will as though he were the liquor being savored between them instead of good whiskey.
It was such a simple touch and yet the gesture held more intimacy within it than Will had experienced in years, stirring up a heat that bottomed out in his belly. The sudden pressure and heat of blood moving southward made his cock twitch, Will suddenly glad that they had a few drinks in them. A lot could be blamed on alcohol and forgiven afterward.
With Nigel's gaze so close and locked in on his own, Will couldn't help but see through the window presented to him, the peeking in on a soul. Even if he'd wanted to, Will couldn't stop himself from seeing Nigel for what he was. A very bad man was caressing his lip, someone who took great enjoyment in violence, reveled in the chaos of it. This was a man who expected complete submission from those around him, the alpha of his metaphorical pack, one who would fight…would kill anyone who got in his way. A monster wearing a person suit was looking at Will with a feral hunger, open and awing in its presence. It was a look so visceral and carnal, it made Will's skin burn and his groin ache, his cock pressing up to the front of his jeans.
And then it was over, Nigel letting Will go to lean back in his seat like nothing had happened. Released and allowed to break off the overwhelming eye contact between them, Will was left to collect himself the best he could while being still watched. Gracelessly, he chose to hunch over his drink and will his hard on away, keeping it hidden under the table.
"Has he told you anything else about me?" Will ventured, busying himself with his drink.
"Oh yes…" The words sounded like a come on as they left Nigel's mouth like verbal silk, Will refusing to look over at him. He could feel the man's stare upon him, making the little hairs on his body stand on end. "You like dogs and fishing. You eat at Hanni's table often enough to merit a room there, and you work as a teacher."
That was a lot more information that Will was expecting, the empath risking an upward glance to see a smirk tugging at the corners of thin lips. "I believe he mentioned something about you being a part time FBI agent as well. That you catch killers for a living."
"I'm surprised I didn't feel my ears burning. I didn't realize I was such a popular topic of conversation for the good doctor." Will snorted. If he were being honest with himself, Will could admit that he was impressed that Hannibal had managed to convey so much information about him and somehow managed it without making him sound crazy. That or Nigel knew the details of his neuroses and didn't care. Either were a refreshing possibilities.
"Popular enough for me to know you when you ran into me." Nigel chuckled as he shifted in his seat. The warmth of a leg stretching out to touch his own under the table brought Will's mind back to the hunger he'd seen in those red eyes. As socially stunted as Will knew he was, even he could tell that Nigel wasn't hinting about his interest in him. He was being downright forward about it, though he'd heard enough about Will from Hannibal that he should have been cautious. He had to know that Will was wired wrong in the head and this was a bad idea. The intrusive leg parting his own under the table told Will that Nigel was very keen on the idea of getting laid tonight, and he definitely wanted to include Will in on that venture as a participant.
After three years of celibacy, Will had to admit the offer was more than a little tempting, especially after being rejected by Alana for being too unstable. Though he had never been with a man before, his cock was defiantly casting its vote on the matter, telling him that it was ready and willing to go along with the idea.
"That still doesn't seem fair. I didn't even know Doctor Lecter had a brother, much less a twin. Does my ignorance appeal to you?" Will countered, trying his hand at flirting. He hoped he was hitting the mark, or at the very least, the borders of the target. Nigel's eyes lighting up told Will that he must have done something right, the man looking delighted now that Will had decided to actively engage.
"Not at all, though I'm not opposed to bliss in any form. You took one look at me and read me like a book. Not too many people are able to do what you do, and so well. That and you knew my brother narrows it down considerably." Nigel said. In a smooth movement, he pushed his chair around the table, bringing himself closer to Will in an instant. The smell of tobacco and whiskey was strong on his breath as the very, bad man invaded more of Will's personal space, the heat of his thigh pressed against Will's own. Matters were tangled up even more when Nigel draped his arm around Will's shoulders like before.
"You look like your sketches, only in color. Hanni's always had an eye for detail." The words were pressed softly into Will's ear by lips that were suddenly too close. The silken gaze of them against sensitive skin and dark curl made Will's stomach flip and his head swim with arousal and confusion. What did Nigel mean about sketches? Will knew all about Hannibal's talent as an artist, but it had never crossed his mind that he might be the subject matter of one. That worrisome thought was cut short when the lobe of Will's ear was caught between crooked teeth. The pinch of flesh did terrible things to Will's resolve. The words that followed obliterated the remainder of his defenses.
"Soft skin I want to taste every inch of." Nigel murmured dark and low as he pressed a kiss to curve of Will's jaw, following each compliment with another. "…An angel's face with eyes like a coming storm. I want to pull you over the edge, gorgeous, and drown you in my black heart."
Taking a deep breath as adoration was being placed to his skin by wandering lips as strong hands held him in place, Will poured another two fingers of whiskey, and then poured another two before shooting it all back. He took it upon himself to finish Nigel's glass as well, even while the monster pretending to be a man chuckled and nipped marks into his throat. If he was going to do this though, a very important question had to be asked, and the answer clearly established.
Fortified by too much alcohol all at once, Will turned his head to stare straight into Nigel's eyes, the man leaving up his kisses to meet his gaze with an equally serious expression.
"How do you feel about dogs?" Will asked, watching as Nigel tried to maintain a somber expression and failed. The grin that won out held a hunger turned starvation within it, too much teeth being exposed to be considered friendly or innocent. There was no misunderstanding about what they were going to do to and with one another.
"Darling, I fucking love them."
OoOoO
TBC