"How are you so skilled at disappearing like that?" Beverly demanded when Will wandered back into the castle a few hours later. His skin was hot from the sun, sweat dampening his curls, but he found that the walk had brought a lightness back to his limbs and spirit and was exactly what he needed. "I nearly had a heart attack when you were not there. I thought I was going to have to tell your father that you were missing and I-"

"I'm sorry," Will apologized swiftly, standing before the wonderfully put together woman who was his paddle while he tried to force his way upstream. She looked like she had been pacing, but just like his mother, not a single strand of hair was out of place. She held herself strong and firm, taking the brunt of any situation in the way Will had only witnessed a woman to do. "I should have let you know where I was going."

"That is no matter," Beverly excused, her voice rushed, and she reached towards Will, pushing him further into the castle. "You need to bathe and get dressed for the feast. And you are ever so lucky that your father is well enough to be in attendance."

Will laughed, turning and snatching up Beverly's hands, causing her fussing to stop. He brought them to his lips and kissed them. "You worry too much."

"And you do not worry enough," she scolded, though there was a smile on her lips. "I cannot wait for the day when I no longer need to fret over you like a mother hen." Will made a ba-gawk sound and was swatted playfully by the woman. "Do not mock me so."

"But you are ever so fun to tease," Will stated, repeating the animal noise before racing away from his friend who lifted her skirts and spiritedly kicked at him as he passed.

"So, help me, Prince Graham," she called after him as he took to the stairs. "You will be the reason I catch my death."

"Nonsense." Will leaned over the banister, grinning widely down at her as she looked up at him. "You will outlive us all and take the crown for yourself."

"That is not a responsibility I would take. You and Atlas are one and the same. You are cursed to hold a weight you can't bear and still stand, not because you can but because you must."

"It is not a curse." Will inhaled deeply, long ago memories playing through his mind. Nights of being sculpted into who he was now. Late conversations and fights that had given him his reason. "It is an opportunity, and I will not squander it."

Will pulled the silk through his fingers over and over again as Alana dressed him once more that day. He had left the truth of the stranger out of their conversation, not needing more chiding. He had had enough for that day, and he had learned his lesson. A stable boy and a prince were two entirely separate beings and as much as he respected the work the stable hands did, he never wanted to be equated to one again.

"Leave that here," Alana instructed, eyeing the ribbon. "You hold to it like a child to a blanket. You have successfully avoided your father's attention, but if sees you still keeping that around it will not be safe."

"Thank you for the caution, but I will do as I wish with this." Will pulled from Alana's fussing fingers and wrapped the ribbon around his wrist, tying it there just like it had been tied there years before. "You're welcome to retire. I will not require your assistance later tonight." Will ignored the small bow at the instruction and took the coronet in her hands, placing it on his head.

It was simpler than the headgear he had worn earlier that day and he found a sense of relief in the idea that he could hide behind this jeweled metal a little easier than anything with arches on it.

He left the room, heading for the dining hall that was already bright with conversation and laughter as Will entered it. The normal one table that lined the hall had been moved to make way for three others. They were lined with food and drinks and all of the soldiers that had gathered there that day. Some still wore their chainmail and others had changed into their aketons or just their tunics. Others, who Will assumed were of a more noble status, wore finer linens of bright colors.

Will wandered his way through the room and towards where his father sat at the head of one of the tables, deep in conversation with a person that Will didn't recognize, but then again, he didn't know anyone in this room. Beverly sat on the king's other side, a smile on her lips, but sitting in silence the way Will found women often did when in a room full of men.

Her eyes landed on Will and her smile grew and Will returned it. He rounded the table and took the seat beside her, accepting the goblet of wine she pushed towards him. He took a long sip of it before his attention was being dragged towards his father and the man across the table.

"William, this is my Commander," Sanford introduced, motioning to the stranger and Will allowed himself the moment to look over the man who must have meant a great deal to the war efforts. He would have overseen Sanford's armies and would have fought on the front lines with the rest of his men. He would be a strong warrior and well respected. "Commander Shikibu, my son, Prince William."

Will's breathing hitched in his lungs as he stared at the man who had so presumptuously mistaken Will for a stable boy. He had cleaned himself up since their accidental run in. He had bathed and Will found that his long hair had been trimmed so that it fell to a much more appropriate length of just at the nape of his neck. The face that had been hidden behind the fullness of a beard had been nearly clean shaven, leaving only a slight stubble behind, proving just how sharp his features truly were. Those amber eyes looked far hungrier in the candlelight of the room than they had in the afternoon sun and there was a spark of something familiar in them that Will couldn't quite place.

"You're not Asian," was all Will could find in himself to say and he could hear Beverly choke on her drink beside him.

A smile cracked across Shikibu's lips, revealing crooked teeth on an otherwise perfectly sculpted face. "My aunt is," he explained. "She raised me after my parents passed away."

"I'm sorry for your loss." All politeness, no meaning. Will couldn't find it in himself to care, not when their earlier conversation did nothing but persistently repeat in his head and chipped away at his resolve to keep the night running as smoothly as he could.

"Thank you, Your Highness."

Will shifted uncomfortably in his chair and traded glances with Beverly who eyed him suspiciously. He would have to explain everything after the evening had ended. She could tell that there was something more that had happened that Will had conveniently not told her. Will wasn't looking forward to it. As much as he had deemed this man unimportant and just another soldier who liked to name big names to get what they wanted, Will supposed that the man had been telling the truth about the closeness between him and the king.

"William, I expect you to make his time here as pleasant as possible while they are residing with us," Sanford pressed, once more tossing random duties that were much more suited for a chamberlain or maid at Will. "You will show him the grounds and see that he is well tended to."

Will bit back his normal retort of not being the help and nodded. "Yes, Father."

"He will be staying in the guest chambers as well."

The insufferable bastard!

Will swallowed back his anger and repeated the same words as before, though they were a bit more biting this time. "Yes, Father." Will could feel Beverly's grip under the table on his knee, warning him, begging him to behave just a little while longer before he was allowed to retire for the night. "And how long is that exactly?"

Sanford looked over his son thoughtfully for a moment and Will found himself slightly surprised at the real answer he received that he didn't have to fight for. "That depends on how well some negotiations and contracts are handled. They will be discussed with you in the future if there is a need."

Will's chest constricted tightly. That could mean weeks, months, years. He was going to have to play little errand boy for this man for the indefinite future and his mind reeled with the idea of the little freedoms he had been stripped from him when someone else would have been better suited to take care of the man across the table.

"Do you enjoy reading?" Sanford questioned.

"I do," Shikibu replied with a nod and Will did his best not to mock the man as he took another long drink from his cup.

"We have a lovely library that my late wife had built," Sanford continued, pointing in the direction of the room. Will felt his body tense at the mention of the room that belonged to only Bella, him, and the memories of his mother and Mischa. No one else was allowed to step foot in that room if he had anything to say about it. "William could show it to you."

"Perhaps tomorrow," Shikibu agreed with a nod.

"Perhaps not," Will grumbled. He winced at a kick against his shin and was met with daggers from Beverly.

"When your schedule allows, then, Your Highness."

"Did you perhaps need me for anything else Father?" Will questioned, sitting up a bit straighter. "It looks as if you have the festivities well in hand. Could I be excused for the rest of the night?"

"Your Highness," Beverly argued in a refined manner. "You haven't eaten dinner yet. Maybe-"

"I'm not hungry."

"It's quite rude to interrupt a lady," Shikibu reprimanded in a light tone. Like he had any room to speak. Will sucked on his teeth as he met bloody eyes that held years of battles in them and behind that a wall so strong and impenetrable that Will didn't think anyone could break past it. "I think an apology is in order."

Will opened his mouth to argue, but at an expectant raise of Shikibu's brows, Will sighed. "I am sorry, Beverly. I am not feeling well tonight and wish to retire to my room."

"If you are unwell you can leave," Sanford excused with a disappointed wave of his hand.

Another letdown, another disappointment to the king. Normally Will didn't care if he was a disappointment, but he knew the thin line he was riding at that moment. His father had to look the part for his men. He had to hold their respect, their trust. Alana had only been correct once again. If this group of men found the kingdom, they fought for to be unsavory, then Will didn't see the occupants of the castle surviving the night.

"I am rather tired as well," Shikibu announced, getting to his feet. "The ride today was rather grueling. I would like to retire as well."

"William, show him to his chambers," Sanford ordered, and Will closed his eyes with a deep breath. He could last a few more moments, couldn't he? As long as this man kept his mouth shut on the way to the other wing of the castle then Will wouldn't have to slaughter him. "I look forward to continuing our conversation over breakfast."

"As do I, Your Majesty." Hannibal gave a light bow and stepped away from the table, not waiting for Will.

"I will see you tomorrow," he muttered to Beverly as he rose from the table, the wine causing him to be a touch more off balance than he normally would be.

Beverly rose to her feet respectfully, whispering, "Good night, Your Highness."

Will strode up the side of the table, not waiting for Shikibu to catch up with him. He wound his way through groups of conversations and drunk stumblings as his father's expensive drinks sloshed onto the floor.

Will silently thanked the universe for the silence that the hallways provided him as he walked them with a steady stride, the sound of footsteps following closely behind him.

"For someone who can quote Thomas Moore as well as you can, you do bow before your king with a respectable swiftness," Shikibu taunted, and Will's fist clenched. Where did he find the nerve to speak to Will in such a way? Will stayed silent. "You're a good little prince."

"You don't know me and please do not speak of me as if you do," Will said as calmly as he could. He wasn't sure what about this man set his blood ablaze, but he was ready for the flames to be doused. "Silence would be preferable, if you don't mind."

"Curious thing," he continued with no regard for Will's request.

"What is?" Will could have slapped himself at the way he pushed the conversation forward instead of leaving it to smother out.

"You're wearing the same ribbon around your wrist that adorned your sword today. Why is that?"

"I think you are being too bold and need to take a step back." Will came to a halt in one of the many twisting halls and turned, facing Shikibu who was looking around the space with an air of fondness there. "This is your room." Will pointed to a door that he had not entered in a good many years. Not since a cruel winter gripped this castle in a chokehold. "Now, if you would excuse me, I-"

"Where did you get the ribbon?"

Will was taken aback by the inquiry and shrunk under the gaze of those haunted eyes. "I don't see why it could possibly matter where. It is just a ribbon. Nothing more and nothing less."

"You wouldn't have it on your person like a bishop wears the pectoral cross if it were not important."

"Good night," Will excused, promptly turning his back on the commander. A calloused hand snatched up his wrist, pulling him back with an absurd strength and Will turned, a hand ready to slap the man across the face. His hand was caught before it could make contact and Will felt the fight waver as those eyes stared him down. He ripped his hand free, but his other wrist was held in a grip so tight that all Will could do was stand there as the ribbon was inspected. "Let go of me."

"No."

"It was not a request." Will tugged at his wrist. "You will release me, Sir, or I promise that no victory you have provided my father will save you from the executioner's blow."

Those eyes returned to his face, as if trying to take in every detail of him and Will once more tried to free himself from the hold. Will jumped as fingers graced his cheek, tracing the scarring there and pain filled the man's expression.

"Who did this to you?" The words were whispered so softly on a breath that Will almost didn't hear them, and he found himself at a loss for how to answer, his mind so empty.

"My father," Will answered, unsure where the truth came from. No one outside of those who were present for that conversation were privy to the answer. They were all fed the lie that Will had fallen off his horse while riding one day.

The caress was gentle, though the glare from the man was not, and soon the fingers slipped from Will's face and his wrist was brought back up so the ribbon could be inspected. The ribbon was twisted around and before Will could react, the ribbon was untied from its secure knot. Panic raced through his person, and he snatched for it, but it was kept out of his reach. "Give it back!" Will ordered in desperation.

"You've done your job wonderfully."

The words didn't make sense to Will, and he discarded them, trying to grab for it again, but a hand at his chest kept him at bay. "I mean it, give it back! That's all I have of him!" The stranger froze and Will ripped the ribbon from his grip, hastily tying it back around his wrist, the security falling back into place. Will took several steps back, breathing hard. "If you ever so much as look at-"

"Who?"

"What?" There were too many emotions rushing through Will that he doubted he could name all of them or any of them at all. All he knew was that he wanted to run, be alone. Mourn a piece of him that had been lost before it had even fully formed. The right place, wrong time.

"That ribbon is all you have of who?" The press for information was kind. "He must mean a lot for you to react in such a way."

"No one." Will took another step back. "Just a ghost. It's none of your business." He clutched his wrist to his chest, fingers twisting with the precious fabric there. "Now please, I beg of you, let me retire. I do not have the strength to-"

"Kai kada nors grįšiu, pagal šią juostelę žinosiu, kas tu esi."

The plea died on Will's tongue, and he blinked up at the man as a strange language that belonged to a well-worn and often visited memory echoed down the hall. Will still didn't understand the meaning behind the words that had been said that night, but they were immediately brought back to life, no longer faded with time. They were snow covered and summer warmed. A goodbye that Will didn't realize until it was too late.

Will's heart sped up in his chest as he took in the features of who stood before him. Skin was darker, eyes bloodier and possessed with deeper pains than the unanswered questions of the past, face sharper, but not as starved. A living, breathing, grown version of his first friend.

"Hannibal?"

The name slipped from his lips and his limbs went numb as he stepped closer in disbelief. His hand reached out and he hesitantly brushed his fingertips over the man's cheekbone and down to his jaw, finally taking in all the features he had been so swift to dismiss.

"Will," was sighed into the space between them. Will's eyes slid closed as coarse hands cupped his cheeks and he was pulled closer in much the same way as he had been on their last night together. "I told you I would come back."

Will's breath was stolen from his lungs as lips pressed to his and brilliant rays of warmth washed over him. Something that had been lying dormant in the pit of Will's chest woke, hungry from years of slumber and Will's hands tangled in Hannibal's soft blond locks.

"You left," Will gasped out between the onslaught of ravenous kisses.

"I know."

Hannibal left and Will no longer thought of Hannibal.

"You knew and you left."

"I know."

Hannibal knew and didn't say a word and Will no longer thought of Hannibal.

Will gasped as his back hit the wall, the cold of the stone barely touching him as midsummer burned in his chest. His head yelled at him to shove Hannibal away, but his hands only pulled the man closer, the flames in his blood growing. He kissed Hannibal back with the same ferocity and hunger, lips and teeth.

"You didn't write."

Hannibal never wrote and Will no longer thought of Hannibal.

"You bastard!" Will broke the kiss, shoving at Hannibal's chest hard enough to cause the man to step away from him. Hannibal blinked in surprise, breathing hard and Will tried to catch his breath and ignore the begging to be touched that filled his system. He had forgotten what it felt like to be touched by Hannibal, forgotten everything about the man that he could and other details he never wanted to. "You didn't write! I heard nothing from you!"

"I didn't write?" Hannibal's lips cracked into a grin, and he laughed, something dark and cold lacing it. "You were the one who never wrote."

"Do not think so lowly of me." Will stepped closer, shoving a finger into Hannibal's chest. "I gave up because they went unanswered for so long. You left and you forgot about me!"

Will had been forgotten and he no longer thought of Hannibal.

Hannibal's hand took Will's and pressed it against his chest so Will couldn't escape. "How could I forget you?" Fingers splayed over Will's neck, and he couldn't fight as he was kissed again. And he didn't want to. "I thought of nothing else."

"Liar."

"If I had known your father hit you, do you think I would have stayed away?" Will's scar was traced once more, sadness in the caress. Hannibal rested his forehead to Will's and Will felt his back once more pushed into the stone wall behind him. His body melted as Hannibal pressed flush against him, ice turning to liquid. "If I would have known that you even so much as spared me a single thought, I could not have stayed away."

"Don't act like you're the victim here," Will hissed, nose caressing Hannibal's as he let out a breath. He could live in this moment for eternity. He could touch Hannibal for the rest of time and not grow tired of it, even if it awoke all the anger that had been simmering just under the surface for the last five years. Another kiss was pressed to his mouth and Will bit harshly at the lips there. "How dare you just show up again after all this time and pretend that nothing happened?"

"How dare I protect your kingdom and keep you safe for all of the time we were apart?" Hannibal challenged with a snarl. Will was pulled from the wall and led to the bedchamber that had once belonged to Hannibal. It held such a familiar comfort in its walls. The door was slammed shut and Will once more found his being shoved unforgivingly up against the wood of the door, the sharpness of uneven teeth at his neck. "How dare I risk life and limb for you?" Will's eyes slid shut and he was grateful for the support the door provided because his knees had turned to liquid and given out beneath him. A moan escaped from him at a harsher bite than the previous ones and he grasped tightly to Hannibal. "How dare I? You haven't changed a bit."

"Neither have you." Will shoved at the man harshly and wished that he could control his breathing. Hannibal didn't move quite as far this time, hands still gripping tight to the front of Will's suit. "You're still rude."

"And you're still arrogant," Hannibal snapped back, tossing Will away easily in one movement as if Will weighed nothing. Will stumbled slightly, but caught himself, glaring at Hannibal.

"Disdainful."

"Ignorant."

"Contemptuous."

"Self-righteous, impudent, pretentious," -Will jumped as the cornet was snatched from his head- "little prince." The metal clanged against the stone floor as it was thrown by Hannibal.

"Commander or count, you are still below the self-righteous, impudent, pretentious little prince," Will spat, every inch of him feeling far too tight as indignation bubbled there. There was so much he wanted to say, so much to yell, so much that he couldn't put it into words. So many lies and secrets and so much unhealed pain.

"Not when I am through with you," Hannibal warned as a hand outstretched towards Will. Will stared down at the upturned palm, the familiarity of the motion causing his heart to skip. They didn't need words. They never had. And the message was loud and clear in the heavy silence between them.

You do not get to hide behind your title and crown with me. You never have and you do not get to start now despite the distance that has grown between us.

The promise was loud, screaming and Will knew there was no going back from this moment. It held more in it than the funeral did. The weight was enough to collapse the entire world around them, but beneath it was the assurance that it would be built stronger than before. Will just needed to take the plunge.

Will's fingers slipped into the outstretched hand, the vow signed and sealed in wax. Will allowed himself to be pulled towards Hannibal, no longer feeling lost as spring gave way for summer. Hannibal's forehead rested against his and Will let his hands wander over the man's strong chest. His fingers traced up Hannibal's neck and when they found his face, Will pushed up onto his toes to kiss the soldier.

The initial touch was soft, but it didn't last. The longing was too much. Too soft a word for the ravenous feeling of silent hunger. Fingers found the buttons down Will's suit and pulled at the fabric, uncaring of how expensive the linens were. Layers were stripped from him, leaving him in just his white tunic.

"I've waited too long for you," Hannibal breathed against Will's lips as he guided Will towards the bed. "I will devour you."

Love you into flames.

"I'm still angry at you," Will muttered, his hands making quick work of the belt around Hannibal's waist and letting it fall to the ground. Once he was free of the leather, Will tugged at the fabric of Hannibal's shirt. Hannibal stepped back far enough to help pull it from his head and Will paused long enough to look over the man before him.

"We have all night to discuss the details," Hannibal assured. Will could feel the way that Hannibal's breathing stuttered when Will reached out, his hands discovering the body before him. Scars clung to muscles, some far worse than others. Some of them were newer than others as well. A fresh, lightly pink mark was embedded across Hannibal's ribs and Will traced it.

Will dropped to his knees, fingers finding the mark continuing down to Hannibal's hip bone and disappearing around his back. Will leaned forward and kissed the healing scar, receiving a sharp inhale and a painful grip in his curls.

His own markings hadn't gone unnoticed, and a single hand slid down his back, under the shirt that still clung to him, and between his shoulder blades where whipping scars were left. The roughness of Hannibal's fingers caused him to shiver as they trailed the raised skin.

"If this was your father as well, I swear I'll kill him." The words were snarled through his teeth. Will grinned at the threat and let his tongue taste the scar at Hannibal's hip. The fingers in Will's hair tightened their painful grip and Will's eyes rolled back. "Was it?"

"Yes."

Will rose to his feet meeting a harsh gaze head on. Hannibal wore the scent of blood and death like a perfume. There was a fire in his eyes and ice in his veins, but he was the same bright star he had been all those years ago, burning with the light of a thousand suns and Will's world had been shrouded in darkness without him.

"Show them to me," Hannibal said in a tone as dark as his eyes. "Now."

Will didn't hesitate to answer the demand by taking the last few buttons on his silk dress shirt and slowly unfastening them. Button by button he did this, a slow show for the man before him until the silk could slide down Will's shoulders and to the floor to join the rest of his suit that Hannibal had been kind enough to discard for him.

There was no hesitation as he turned, exposing his back and the thin silver scars that adorned him. Scars that Beverly had helped clean and bandage when Will was denied Doctor Chilton's care. He knew the way they looked, slashes of jagged lines that held painful memories. But now, when he felt Hannibal's hands touching them so softly, studying each as if they were a line in a book, Will could do nothing but melt into the touch. He bit back the whine when the fingers left his skin.

"Go sit on the bed." Another command came from the knight's mouth.

The order was obeyed, their fight from earlier steadily vanishing from his mind and being replaced by the way Hannibal was looking at him now. It was something greedy and made the prince shiver.

Will sat on the edge of the bed, doing his best to look like he was still the one in charge, but failing miserably. Instead, he linked his fingers together and put them in his lap, and he sat as rigid as a sinner in confession. His body did not belong to him, and everything was beginning to haze over like in a dream and he hoped that this wasn't one of his many nightmares that felt so horribly real.

Will's attention was pulled from his lap as Hannibal stepped closer to him. Hannibal's left boot posed itself atop of Will's knees, pushing down until Will's legs opened and Hannibal's boot rested on the bed between them. Will knew Hannibal was taking his sweet time loosening his boot laces and the first time Hannibal's fingers brushed against Will's thigh, a sigh left him involuntarily.

Will was greeted with a pleased smirk and the fingers continued to lightly graze Will until the boot was tossed with a thud to the floor and the same process was repeated with the right. With each flinch and breath that left Will, the smile grew, enjoyment clear in the baring of crooked teeth.

Will's hands had moved without his knowledge, and he was finally able to find them when Hannibal moved far enough away for Will to catch his breath while the second boot was dropped. His palms were planted on the covers, fists in the fabric, and he was leaning forward, his blue eyes fixated on the man in front of him.

He could only watch as Hannibal's fingers went to the lacing of his trousers. The movements were painfully slow, but Will could be patient. He had waited for what felt like a lifetime to see Hannibal again so what was one more moment between them?

As fabric was stripped, Will's eyes slid closed with a deep breath, and he could hear the low rumble of a chuckle from Hannibal.

"Do you like this?"

It wasn't meant as a serious question, but Will realized as he breathed out the answer it was the truth. "Yes..." Will's eyes opened, and he tried to push himself from the bed to stand but one of Hannibal's strong hands took his shoulder and pushed him back down. Will's chin was taken by a thumb and forefinger and tipped up. Will looked to Hannibal, those bloody eyes slicing him to pieces and leaving him to bleed out.

"Do you want this?" Another seemingly meaningless question to ask in the moment.

Will gave a solitary nod, his answer shaky and not quite sounding like his own voice anymore. "I need this."

There wasn't time wasted in the seconds it took Hannibal to push Will down into the soft bed and climb over the prince. Hands moved and roamed over Will's body as if they had never had the privilege to touch him before. They took every scar and dip and curve in stride, caressing his body as if he himself were made of the finest silks.

Hannibal's lips brushed the side of Will's neck, followed by his teeth leisurely biting the soft skin there. Will groaned and twisted in the grip to capture Hannibal's lips with his own and he was granted the kiss like it were a gift meant only for him. HIs heart lurched painfully in his chest and his breath quickened as Hannibal's tongue found his.

And those hands, with their murdering touches, found their way to Will's trousers and stroked him through the fabric. The roughness was welcomed and sent Will's spine into an arch.

"I'm going to end you." It was growled in Will's ear and his eyes rolled back.

"Please," he begged without thought.

Closer, he just wanted Hannibal closer. He wanted this moment to make up for all the space that had been between them. For the way that Will's heart had broken so violently that it was curious that it had gone unheard. For the silence and misery drilled into his bones.

Harsh hands all but ripped the trousers from Will's legs, leaving him bare before Hannibal. There were mere seconds between where Will was going to be again and when Hannibal's mouth found exactly where Will wanted it to be, stealing the pleas from his tongue. The rhythm was punishing as Hannibal finally, on his knees, bowed before Will for the first time since they had met. Worshiping the prince, the sin that was worth burning at the stake for.

Will's legs fell open and his hands dug quickly into Hannibal's long, thick hair. The moans tumbled from his open mouth on his short breaths and the world around him blurred as he gave himself over to the pleasure, the anger slipping away only to be replaced with a new heat.

Like the reconciliation and the mention of missing letters, Will had not been expecting this. Through bliss one thing in his mind continued to be true. This moment with any other person would be meaningless when compared to now. All he knew was Hannibal and that was all he wanted to know for the rest of his days.

Will opened his eyes and pushed himself up on his elbows. A groan tore from his lips as Hannibal's blood-soaked gaze met Will's and Hannibal's tongue trailed up Will's length before he was smothered once more with all of Hannibal's mouth.

He fell back on the bed. He wouldn't last much longer like this and that certainly was Hannibal's plan. Will's grip grew brutal in the count's hair, but Hannibal didn't let up until something snapped in Will.

"Hannibal," Will muttered, pulling on the man until Hannibal released him and moved up his body. Will kissed Hannibal soundly, tasting himself on the man as Hannibal's tongue invaded his mouth. His hands were seized and pinned into the bed beside his head and kisses were pressed across his jawline until there was a nip at his ear.

"I'm not done with you yet." The pressure in his hands grew and Will opened his eyes, chest rising and falling as he took in Hannibal. Fingertips grazed over his palms and down his wrists, one gently tangling with the red ribbon that still sat there. The one thing that had tied them together since the beginning. Hannibal's other hand splayed across Will's chest, Will's heart jumping to meet the touch there. "You won't remember your title when we're finished here." Will was kissed savagely, bottom lip pulled between teeth so harshly that the skin broke. Will gasped as a tongue licked at the copper in his mouth. "But you will never forget my face again."

With no other warning, Will was manipulated to his knees. A strong hand tangled in the curls against the back of his head and pressed his face into the mattress, arms stretching above his head. The instructions were clear. Will didn't need to be told twice. His curls were released, and a shudder ran through him as fingers trailed down his curved spine.

"Just like that, Meilė."

The praise pulled a gasp from Will and his hands dug into the covers on the bed, clutching them so tightly it was painful. His gut twisted and his chest clenched. He could come again from those words alone. It was pathetic. He was pathetic letting this random man come back into his life and treat him like this.

A hot tongue pressed against him, working him and Will clung to the fabric in his fists as if it were the only thing keeping him from floating away into the void. He had to stay present, stay in this moment. He had to remember every part of it just in case it was somehow a cruel joke and a dream, and he woke up to morning light with it only to slip away with the dimming stars as all other dreams did.

Hands seared him as they caressed him, and he found his breath once more stolen as Hannibal finally pressed into him. He was going to burn from the inside out with the way all traces of lingering winter melted with rays from the sun.

Hannibal's hands covered Will's and the breath against Will's neck incinerated him.

"Perfect boy."

Will moaned, pressing back into Hannibal, hoping that his lack of ability to speak didn't go unheard. They hadn't needed to speak before, they didn't need to speak now. Hannibal had to know exactly what Will needed, what he craved, what his whole being was screaming for.

"Use your words," was ordered as a kiss was pressed to Will's spine. Will whimpered at the game put back into play. The game that Hannibal loved to play, and Will found himself unable to deny. "Pasakyk man, ko nori, meile."

Will's head spun and he hid his face in the bedding. "Fuck, Hannibal," he managed to get out, once more pushing his hips back into the man and begging with his body. "Please."

"Pasakyk man, ko nori, meile," was repeated and Will did his best to push through the fog to find the meaning in the unknown words.

"I need you."

The pace was slow, excruciatingly so. Hannibal's fingers tangled with Will's the moment the boy attempted to capture more fabric in his grip. The sounds it pulled from the prince filled the room, unashamed.

Hannibal wished he had the strength to keep this up. He had always found toying with the prince to be one of his favorite activities, but he couldn't bear the wait any longer. He needed Will, needed to feel all that Will was. They could talk later, discuss the wrongdoings of the past later.

For now, the games could be pushed aside. Right now, all Hannibal wanted was his name on Will's lips as they found where their beings aligned. His blackened soul that had been comatose for the better part of as long as he could remember ignited, flickering to life once more and it scorched him in the only way that Will had been able to breathe life into him.

Will's knees shook under Hannibal's and the way he was being brought to the edge once more. Hannibal's grip on his hands hurt, but he didn't care. He impressed the feeling to his memory, held it dearly in his chest where he could protect it within the security of his ribs.

He ached and he loved it. Hannibal would crush him, leave him splintered and diluted and he would still love all of it. He wanted all of it to hurt, to leave some lasting impression on him. Smoke in his lungs, glass shards to cut his palms, gravel to rasp against his knees. He wanted a goddamned tragedy, and he knew Hannibal could give it to him. It sounded alluring beyond belief.

Will closed his eyes tightly at a sharp pain in his shoulder as teeth pierced the skin there.

"Hannibal."

A sticky tackiness dripped down his shoulder and over his chest as Hannibal poured himself into Will and Will was reduced to ashes right then and there.