This took a little longer than expected because I kept rewriting it. I'm still not entirely happy, but I hope you enjoy!
Chapter warnings: graphic depictions of a dead/mutilated body, explicit sex that involves some pretty weird, murder-y, cannibalism-y dirty talk.
it's dangerous to fall in love
but I want to burn with you tonight
"So this is where you work."
Will's head snaps towards the sound of the voice, a small grin lighting up his face as he spots Hannibal walking towards his desk, a manila folder in one hand.
"Sorry it's not as fancy as your office."
Hannibal huffs a laugh, the sound barely audible as he stops in front of Will. "Are you busy?" he asks, nodding towards the stack of papers lying on the desk.
"Just finished marking them. Why?"
"I finished the profile," he replies, handing the folder to Will. "I thought perhaps you'd like to read it before we give it to Jack."
Will opens the file, eyes skimming over the words he and Hannibal had spent the last week and a half working on. "Did you add much to what I sent you?"
"Not a lot," Hannibal tells him, sitting on the corner of Will's desk. "Just tweaked it."
"Think it'll be good enough?"
"It's very thorough."
Leaning back in his chair, face tilting upwards, Will says, "I think Jack wanted us to wait."
"For what?"
"The next one. Or the next two. The Ripper usually kills in threes."
"And he will," Hannibal murmurs, mouth tilting up in a smirk.
Will didn't doubt that. He knew Hannibal would kill again, in the near future, to complete the Ripper's cycle. He just wasn't sure if he would be asked to join the other man for a second time.
He knows he wants to.
"Do you think we should wait?"
"Maybe. The new kills might bring more information that we'll have to include."
"Then I'll keep the file in my office, ready for when it is needed." Hannibal tells him. "Has there been any progress with our case?"
Will shakes his head, fingers tapping against the paper of their profile. "They still have no clue. Nothing was left behind."
"There never is."
"It's driving them all mad," Will says, a smile growing on his face as he stands. "Jack wants to close it before the next one."
"Something tells me that won't happen."
"No, I don't think it will."
His questions are answered by a phone call a few days later.
He's fresh out the shower when his phone beeps, screen lighting up with Jack's contact. He wraps a towel around his waist before answering, already knowing what the call is about.
"Hello?"
"There's been another one," Jack's voice comes through the phone, his tone obviously angry.
"The Ripper?"
"Looks like it."
"Text me the address and I'll meet you there," Will says, hanging up before quickly getting dressed.
He wishes Hannibal would have invited him, just so he could see the other man work once again, to feel the pleasant rush consume his body as they worked together. Nevertheless, he's excited to see what kind of masterpiece Hannibal had created.
The crime scene is a field, a vast slate of land situated in the middle of nowhere. It is overgrown with trees and vegetation, filled with hiding spots and openings that are perfect for a crime.
Jack meets him in front of an opening, his mouth set into a grim line as they step under the yellow tape and past the investigation team.
"It's up this way," he tells Will. "A couple of hikers found him early this morning. We don't know how long he's been here for yet."
Will nods and follows Jack down the narrow, dirt path. It's secluded, private, and Will silently marvels at Hannibal's decision. It is a couple hundred meters until they reach a clearing, circular in shape, and Will stops at the sight that greets him.
In the middle of the clearing sits an old style swing set, its metal chains and support beams rusted with age. Two sets of chains hang from the top bar, and Will trails his eyes down to reveal two wooden swings, yet only the right one is empty. In the left sits the naked body of a middle aged man, pale skin coloured by the reddish brown of dried blood. The man is held up by another, newer metal beam, his body strapped to it with thin wire.
The man's organs lie in the grass at his feet, and as Will moves closer, he spots the open chest, the small array of flowers that fill it. Delicate, white flowers sit in a bed of green flora, with one large, red rose poking out near the left, where the heart should be. He has the urge to touch them, to run the pads of his fingers against the soft looking petals.
"They're a love letter," Jimmy calls to him. "Arbutus flowers, ivy, and a thornless red rose. They're symbols of love. Do you think he loved this victim?"
"I think it was a relationship gone wrong," Beverly answers before Will can.
"Why would you say that?"
"Look at his crotch," Beverly tells him, grimacing.
Brow furrowing, Will does as she asks and… oh. Blood stains the man's lower stomach and thighs, and Will feels a little sick as he looks in between the man's legs. Instead of genitalia, he finds an open, oozing wound.
"He's been castrated."
"Yep."
"Right," Will says slowly, searching the array of organs at the man's feet and frowning when he doesn't find what he's looking for. "Where, uh, where are they?"
He hears both Brian and Jimmy sigh as Beverly moves closer to the body, her gloved hand reaching out to grab the man's face. Will hadn't bothered looking at his head until now, his mind too engrossed with trying to unravel everything else about the scene, but his eyes widen in surprise as Beverly lifts the face and cold, dead eyes stare back at him. The face is familiar, but any information of the man escapes Will as he spots his mouth.
"Shoved down his throat," Beverly finally says, and Will feels an absurd urge to laugh.
Instead, he rubs a hand over his jaw, eyes diverting to the flowers as he quietly murmurs, "Of course they are."
"What do you think, Will?" Jack finally asks, and Will sighs.
"Are you positive it's the Ripper? It's a bit…different to his usual style."
"I think it's different because there's more meaning to this one," Beverly answers. "I mean, it's got the Ripper's dramatics."
That it certainly did, Will thinks, resisting the urge to sigh. Hannibal's love for theatrical display could be his downfall, if he wasn't careful.
"Was there anything taken?"
"Just the heart," Brian says. "At least, we haven't found it yet."
"Another contributing factor to the lover gone wrong theory," Jimmy points out.
Will nods, his exterior calm as his heart beats rapidly. The scene before him is definitely symbolic of love, but not for the reasons the others had pointed out. He can see why a relationship gone wrong is an obvious conclusion, but the knowledge he has of Hannibal, of how the other man thinks and acts, makes his interpretation of the scene different. A love letter, yes, but not to the man on the swing.
To the person viewing it.
Staring at the display before him, the horrifically beautiful piece of art, Will knows Hannibal will request his presence at dinner tonight.
"Good evening, Doctor."
"Will," Hannibal greets, a smile on his face. "I'm glad you decided to come."
"You asked so politely I felt obliged," Will tells him, following the man into the kitchen.
"I hope obligation is not the only reason you chose to come."
"Of course not," Will says, accepting the glass of wine offered to him.
Hannibal smiles at him once more, and Will wonders who will bring up the murder first. He's not entirely sure Hannibal is aware that they know about it, or that Will has seen it. Either way, he refrains from mentioning it until they're situated at the older man's dining table, dishes filled with delicious food in front of them.
"Heart tartare," Hannibal murmurs as he picks up a fork, and Will exhales a laugh.
"Seriously?" Will can't help but ask, lips turned up into a grin. "You're not going to even try to be subtle?"
"Why should I?" Hannibal asks calmly, eyes trained on Will's as he brings a fork to his mouth. "There's no reason to, not while I am with you."
Will watches the movements of Hannibal's throat as he swallows the meat. "No, I suppose there's not," he admits before swallowing his own forkful, the rich flavours of Richard White's heart coating his tongue.
"He was found quicker than I anticipated," Hannibal reveals before taking another bite.
"I'm surprised he was found at all. The location was rather secluded."
"They always are," Hannibal says. "I need privacy to do what I do, Will."
"Is that why you didn't invite me?"
"No," Hannibal tells him, placing his knife and fork across his plate. "Are you upset I didn't ask you to join me?"
"A little."
Hannibal smiles at him from across the table, warmth flooding his eyes as he looks at Will.
"Will," he starts, clearing his throat. "I would love nothing more than for you to be at my side while I hunt, but surely you understand why I could not have you there with Mr. White."
"Because you wanted me to discover him."
"Yes."
Will swallows dryly, the sound audible in the silent room, before he quietly states, "Because the display was meant for me."
"Yes," Hannibal repeats. "What did you think of it?"
"It was beautiful," Will whispers after a moment of silence. "They… they didn't understand the meaning to it, but I did."
"And what do you think the meaning was, Will?" Hannibal prompts, face displaying barely contained excitement as he watches the other man. "What was I trying to convey?"
"It was an offering."
"Of what?"
"Your heart," Will says, his voice still a quiet rasp. "Not literally, of course. I'm not currently eating your heart, but the display… it was a declaration of your love."
"You seem very sure of yourself."
"Am I wrong?"
"No, my dear boy. You are very right," Hannibal tells him, content, before motioning to his plate. "Finish your meal."
Will has questions he wants to ask, thoughts he wants to process, but as he watches Hannibal resume eating, he can't help but do the same. They have time, after all.
"Why did you do it?"
"He made a few unnecessary comments," Hannibal answers, looking up at Will from his place on the couch.
Dinner had passed without another mention of the murder, or the meaning of the display, and now Will stands in one of Hannibal's rooms, eyes trained on the cackling fireplace as he tries to sort out his thoughts.
"Seems like an overreaction," he says, sipping at a glass of wine, lips red and glistening in the light of the fire.
"I can assure you, it wasn't."
Will hums but doesn't comment. He's not sure what Mr. White had said while he'd been in the bathroom, but he still thinks it wouldn't have warranted Hannibal's actions.
"You asked to see me, Will," Hannibal murmurs. "To understand me. Do you think you've succeeded?"
"I think I understand you as much as anyone could."
"Do you like what you see?"
Will places his wineglass on the mantel before turning to look at Hannibal, a hint of a smile on his face, "Sounding a little desperate there, doctor."
Hannibal stands, too, his own glass joining Will's before he speaks. "Not desperate," he murmurs. "I just want to be sure."
Will's heartbeat quickens as Hannibal moves closer towards him, his stomach filling with a sudden, unexpected nervousness he can't describe. He subconsciously runs his tongue across his bottom lip before quietly replying, "I like what I see."
Hannibal smiles at him, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes as he looks down at Will. He reaches an arm out, his hand moving to gently cradle the side of Will's face, the pad of his thumb caressing the other man's cheek. He inches forward slowly, slow enough that Will has time to move away, and then his lips are on Will's, the movement gentle, experimental.
Will almost, almost, forgets to kiss back. He's a little stunned that Hannibal had just gone for it, but his body hums with the pleasure of the other man's touch, and he finds himself leaning towards him, his hands moving to clutch at the doctor's suit jacket. He opens his mouth, a content sigh catching in his throat as Hannibal kisses him with more force, and he knows he's opening himself up to much more than just a tongue.
Eventually, Hannibal pulls away from him, chest heaving lightly with the need for air. He pulls Will closer, his spare arm wrapping around the other man's middle. "Do you wish you wish to continue?" he whispers, warm puffs of air hitting the exposed skin of Will's neck.
Wordlessly, Will nods, his grip on the other man's jacket tightening as Hannibal kisses him once more.
Hannibal's eyes are alight with a ravenous hunger when they finally reach his bed. He works quickly and efficiently to remove both of their clothing, actions fuelled with each approving noise that escapes Will's mouth. It's not long until they're both naked, Will spread out on Hannibal's bed whilst the doctor kneels above him, hands stroking down the skin of Will's torso.
Hannibal leans down to kiss him, lips leaving a damp trail over Will's neck before asking, "Have you done this before?"
"Not for a long time."
"I'll ease you into it, then," Hannibal tells him.
Hannibal seems content to let his lips continue their assault on his skin, so Will lays back, body buzzing with an almost forgotten pleasure as Hannibal moves above him. The other man's hands are everywhere, touching, caressing, stroking, familiarising themselves with each and every crook of his form, the soft pressure of lips following their movements. He finds himself arching up into each touch, his body bending and twisting any way Hannibal's hands command.
His body jolts when Hannibal's fingers finally run over his hard cock, a low whine escaping his mouth when the movement is followed by a tongue. His hand inadvertently reaches out to rest atop the doctor's head, his fingers tangling in the locks that rest against the nape of Hannibal's neck. He can't stop the mantra of gasps and moans that leave his mouth as Hannibal continues, the other man engulfing him completely.
Despite their positioning, Hannibal is still very much in control. He has a hand placed against Will's hip, his arm offering enough strength to ensure that Will can't thrust up unless Hannibal wants him to. The pace isn't particularly fast, but all of the day's sensations make Will especially responsive, and he finds himself nearing the edge much sooner than he would like.
Regretfully, he tugs on Hannibal's hair, voice a harsh whisper when he says, "Hannibal, I—"
The other man understands without him having to explain further, and he pulls away from Will quickly, a smile on his face as he looks up at him. Hannibal leans over Will's body to reach the bedside table, hand rummaging through its contents until he finds what he needs.
"How do you want to do this?" Hannibal asks as he moves to rest on his heels.
"I want to be able to see you."
"On your back, then," Hannibal says, pleased. "Scoot upwards."
Will does as he's told, eyes fixated on Hannibal's hands as the other man covers three of his fingers with lube. "Ready?" he questions, dry hand moving to Will's thigh, encouraging him to spread his legs.
Will nods wordlessly, breath hitching at the first touch against his hole. He sighs deeply as Hannibal slips the first finger in, eyes fluttering closed as he loses himself in the rhythmic pleasure. It doesn't take long for Hannibal to make two more fingers join the first, eyes shining as he watches Will come undone before him, because of him.
"Please," Will breathes, fighting the urge to scream as Hannibal presses against his prostate. "I want—I'm not going to…"
Hannibal nods, rubbing his fingers against Will's prostate one more time before withdrawing his hand. Will watches as Hannibal rips a condom open with his teeth, the action oddly arousing. He wants to ask if they have to use it, he wants to be as close to Hannibal as he possibly can, but knows the doctor would say yes. For now, at least.
After preparing himself, Hannibal's thumb strokes at Will's hip, the motion soothing as he aligns himself with Will's entrance. A long, low groan escapes his mouth as he eases himself in slowly, head hanging forward as Will reaches for him. He kisses the other man once he's inside completely, eyes shutting at the sensation.
"Ready?" Hannibal asks softly, mouthing at the skin of Will's neck.
Will nods, pushing back against him as he begins to thrust in and out. He watches Hannibal's face as their pace quickens, moans falling from his lips as arousal consumes his body. He links his gaze with Hannibal's, back arching as he spots the glint there; it's something feral, animalistic, and it reminds him of the look he had while killing Matthew Brown.
He kisses him again, his nails scratching against the tight skin of Hannibal's shoulders as their bodies move together. He doesn't know why, can't explain the sudden, burning need to know, but once their kiss brakes, he finds himself asking, "How would you do it?"
"What?"
"Kill me," Will clarifies, lips pressed just under Hannibal's ear. "How would you kill me?"
The other man doesn't stop his movements; if anything, they get more brutal as he replies; "Painlessly."
"That's generous of you."
A laugh leaves Hannibal's mouth in a puff of air, his lips finding Will's again before continuing. "I would take my time with your body."
"You betterruhh."
"Do you want me to put you on display, Will? Turn you into the most exquisite piece of artwork; show everyone just how beautiful you are?"
Will nods wordlessly, almost fanatically. He can feel the warmth of Hannibal's blood against his fingers as his nails finally break the skin, the unmistakable smell of iron filling the air. It makes him remember his dream, of blood soaked bodies moving against each other, and he screams as Hannibal slams against his prostate.
"Would you eat me?" he asks, words escaping through a moan. He's surprised Hannibal even understands the question.
"Yes," is the reply, lips moving against skin as the hold of Hannibal's hands tighten hard enough to bruise. "I would eat your heart."
Will doesn't reply. Instead, he falls back into the mattress, his legs wrapping around Hannibal's waist, body arching up to meet every one of Hannibal's thrusts. The sound of their sighs and moans and skin slapping against skin fill the room, and Will finds himself getting closer and closer to his climax. His fingers continue to scratch against the other man's back, blood coating his palms in a manner that only adds to his arousal.
Almost as if he can sense Will's growing desperation, Hannibal reaches his hand to curl around the other man's erection, fingers squeezing and stroking until Will's coming, creamy white spurts coating his hand and both of their stomachs. Hannibal follows almost immediately, teeth biting down on Will's shoulder as he fills the condom.
He collapses on top of Will, the sound of their heavy breathing filling the room. He stays there until he catches his breath, tongue licking at the bite mark he's just made.
"I'm glad we done that," Will says, hands stroking down Hannibal's back.
"As am I," he replies. "However, I think we ought to clean up.
"Can't it wait?"
Hannibal places a quick, chaste kiss to Will's mouth. "No," he says, smiling as he gently pulls out and rolls the condom off.
Will wines at the loss of contact, his body feeling empty as Hannibal disappears into a bathroom. He waits for Hannibal to return with a wet cloth, moving as the other man asks once he does. He lets Hannibal dress him in boxers, sleep already tugging at his mind's consciousness as he watches Hannibal clean up. By the time the other man crawls back into bed, his lower half covered in cotton pants, Will's already half asleep.
He curls into Hannibal, cheek dropping to rest against the hard chest as he mumbles, "Would you really only eat my heart?"
Hannibal laughs, the sound bringing a sleepy smile to Will's face as he feels the vibrations of the doctor's chest. "Perhaps your brain, as well," he says. "I might even feed it to Jack, so he could pick at it one last time."
Will laughs too, then, the absurdity of their situation seeming even funnier in his semi-conscious state. "I'm sure he'd enjoy that," he mumbles, pausing briefly before continuing. "Would you feel remorseful?"
Hannibal places a kiss atop his head, lips gentle against his hairline, before answering, "If I were going to be repentant, it would be with you."
Despite everything wrong with their situation, the statement makes a warmth spread through Will, and when Hannibal hushes him to sleep, he goes with a smile on his face.
For the first time in a long time, Will wakes feeling well rested.
His body is tangled with Hannibal's, arms and legs intertwining as they lay next to each other, the skin of Hannibal's chest pressed against his back. There's a slight ache to his body, he can feel bruises against his skin, but the dull pain doesn't take from how content he is.
He can feel the rise and fall of Hannibal's chest, can hear the soft sound of his breathing, and the subtle reminder of the other man's life almost lulls him back to sleep. It would have, had the ping of a phone not ruined his moment of bliss.
He didn't recognise the sound, which meant it had to have come from Hannibal's phone, wherever it was. He cracks his eyes open, squinting against the light that trickles in from the window, and reaches blindly for the watch on his bedside table. Once he gets hold of it, it takes him a minute to decipher the litter numbers and lines, his head muddled with sleep. A small sigh escapes his mouth when he does, though, and he has the urge to bury his face in the crook of Hannibal's neck and ignore everything.
Text messages at 6:40AM were generally considered important.
The other man hadn't woken up, though, and Will didn't want to disrupt his peace. It can wait, he thinks, leaning back against the warmth Hannibal's body offers.
He's almost back asleep when his own phone goes off. He's prepared to ignore the message, but the small bing is followed quickly by the loud noise of his ringtone, and he sighs. Detangling himself from Hannibal's body, Will pads across the room to where his pants lay, phone still tucked into the back pocket. He misses the call by a second, but the screen lights up almost immediately after with another text. Annoyed at the interruption, he unlocks it quickly.
Both the messages and the call were from Jack, and Will sighs again as he reads them. They don't offer much information about what the other man needs, with the first merely reading I need you in my office while the second says Now.
"I suppose it was too much to think we could have a blissful morning," comes the voice behind him. Will turns, a smile lighting his face as he sees Hannibal, the doctor's expression serene.
"It's Jack."
The other man yawns, back arching as he stretches, before replying, "It always is, isn't?"
Moving back towards the bed, Will says, "Your phone went off too."
Hannibal nods and moves to grab it, squinting at its bright screen. "Jack wants me in his office," Hannibal murmurs, head turning against the pillow to look back at Will. "Apparently it's urgent."
"Why would he want both of us?" Will asks, pausing before adding, "You don't think he knows, do you?"
"Of course not, my darling boy," Hannibal reassures, the soft tone and endearment washing over Will like warm water on a winder's day. "He would not be so calm, if he knew."
Will nods, eyes darting around the room before turning back to Hannibal. "I don't have time to go home and change. He'll know I stayed here if we arrive together."
Hannibal hums, hand creeping towards Will to stroke the exposed skin of his thigh. "Perhaps that isn't entirely a bad thing," Hannibal says.
"Oh?"
"I don't mind people knowing," Hannibal admits. "However, we can always say we spent last night amending our profile after the Ripper's latest kill. You live quite a while away, staying here would have only been practical."
"I suppose that'll work. I don't want Jack to know my business."
"Of course," Hannibal murmurs, sitting up and leaning towards Will to place a chaste kiss against his lips. "Shall we get ready?"
Will grins, kissing Hannibal again before saying, "Sharing a shower would save time."
"I am not completely sure about that theory, but we can definitely try."
If there was anyone Will definitely did not want to see at 8AM, it was Freddie Lounds.
The sight of her sitting in Jack's office makes him want to turn on the spot, an action he probably would have done had it not been for Hannibal standing directly behind him.
"Jack, Miss Lounds," Hannibal says in greeting, gently nudging Will forward.
"What's so urgent we have to be here at eight in the morning?" Will asks bluntly, letting Hannibal have the only free seat.
"Miss Lounds has shown be some valuable information in regards to the Ripper's latest victim."
"Oh?"
"Yes," Freddie chimes. "You'll take particular interest, I think, Dr. Lecter."
Hannibal ignores her, choosing instead to ask Jack, "What is it?"
Sliding the manila folder towards Will and Hannibal, Jack says, "Do you two want to explain what the hell this is?"
Will shoots Hannibal an odd look, but the other man merely lifts his shoulders in a light shrug before taking the file and opening it. Will clenches his jaw once he sees what's inside, anxiety fluttering through his body instantly. He's glad Hannibal's expression doesn't change.
Inside is a photo of the two of them from the opera. Hannibal's head is bent as Will leans towards him, mouth positioned at his ear as he talks. It's not a bad photo of them, Will can't help but think. The moment looks intimate, and he thinks he'd enjoy it if Richard White hadn't been standing next to them.
Hannibal slides the picture to the side, exposing the one behind it. The shot shows both Mr. White and Hannibal, and Will's surprised to see the annoyed expression Hannibal has in it. Hannibal shifts that photo as well, revealing the last of the bunch. This one is much older than the others, and although the quality isn't particularly good, Will can still make out Hannibal's distinctive features, once again standing next to a much younger Richard White.
Will leans further forward, eyes trailing over the images before sighing and looking back to Jack. "Look pictures from the opera to me," he says, mostly because Hannibal seems happy to not say anything, and the silence was starting to get awkward.
"Will."
"What? They are," he continues. "Except the last one, that looks like someone's house."
"You knew the victim and you didn't tell me?"
Will sighs, "I don't know the victim. As you can see, I didn't stay around to chat."
"You're telling me you didn't recognise him?"
"He had his chest ripped open and his balls shoved down his mouth, Jack. I was focused on other things."
Jack doesn't reply to him, instead he turns to Hannibal. "And you? Apparently the two of you go way back."
"Richard was an old friend," Hannibal replies, finally shutting the folder. "I apologise for not letting you know, Jack. It must've slipped my mind. You have to understand I was sad to hear of his death."
Will almost laughs at that. He can think of many adjectives to describe Hannibal's reaction to Mr. White's death, sad wasn't one of them.
"Oh, please," Freddie says. "I did my research. You and White were known for not getting along."
Unimpressed, Hannibal looks over to her. "Your informants are wrong."
"I'd say that photo backs up my argument pretty well. What did he do, Dr. Lecter? It must have been bad, to hang him up like that."
"Your implications could be very damaging, Miss Lounds. I advise you to be more careful about what comes out of that mouth," Hannibal murmurs.
"Is that a threat?"
"Please," Jack says, cutting off Hannibal's reply. "I did not bring you here to point fingers at people, Freddie. You should remember that. I don't suspect you, Dr. Lecter, I just think this would have been valuable information."
"Of course. I apologise for omitting it."
Jack nods once, "How's the profile coming along?"
"We made some changes last night," Will says. "It's not complete yet."
"Well I need it. Pronto. We want to catch the bastard before the third kill."
"We'll have it done soon," Hannibal tells him. "Is that all?"
They're barely out the building before Freddie catches them, a smug look on her face once she does.
"I'm not stupid," she says, looking pointedly at Hannibal. "I've been paying close attention to the two of you. I know something's up."
"And what might that be?"
"You're involved. Somehow, the both of you are involved."
"What makes you think that?" Will asks, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.
"Does the name Michael Spencer mean anything to you, Mr. Graham?"
Will barely manages to keep the surprise from his face. "No. Why?"
"You're lying."
"Why would he lie?"
"Because he's trying to maintain his innocent charade," Freddie answers. "Don't worry. I'll figure it all out, and you should be ready when I do."
Hannibal cocks an eyebrow, "Now that sounds like a threat."
"No one can hide everything, Dr. Lecter. There's always a leak somewhere."
"Indeed there is."
Will waits until they're far away from the building to speak, his voice quiet in the car. "She's an issue we're going to have to deal with."
"Yes," Hannibal responds, sighing as his fingers tap against the steering wheel. "I'll start planning. In the meantime, I think we ought to feed ourselves, and your dogs."
maybe you could tell, but i don't usually like writing smut in fics like this one (which is why it's probably not the best smut i've ever written). but anyway, i hope you liked it/found it fitting.
only one more chapter left now!