It was bound to happen eventually. They've been together for over six months. Will tells himself they've gotten super close. Which is true. But he says they're super close instead of saying they're codependent. Because they are. And Will likes it. And he knows Hannibal likes it too. But Hannibal doesn't know that Will knows he's the Ripper. Will's a little insulted Hannibal thinks he doesn't know, but Hannibal's ego has the ability to blind him if he isn't careful. Will's honestly flattered, because Hannibal is taken with him, and Hannibal's ego's grown because of how in love with Will he is. Because he sees Will as something precious and rare. He knows Will's smart. Keen. Clever. He's said as much. Hannibal knows Will solves murders as his job, but he's so caught up in the notion that he's been deceiving Will this entire time that he hasn't realized Will's known for a while.
Because that's the other part of the problem. Will's known for almost three months. Nearly half of their relationship. He didn't handle it well at first. He went on a bender for an entire weekend and only convinced Hannibal it wasn't about him by lying and saying it was about his dad. Will never talks about his dad, so Hannibal had latched onto it with his insatiable curiosity he seems to only have for Will and Death. It was actually one of the first times Will brought up his dad with Hannibal. It eventually led to Will opening up about him to Hannibal, which only drew them closer.
But, as time passed, Will slowly came to accept that Hannibal is a killer. He came to bask in it. Revel in it. Love Hannibal for it. And then three weeks later Will realized what Hannibal was feeding him and had to start the process all over again.
Will's a little glad he hasn't mentioned his realizations to Hannibal yet. He needed his own time to process that the love of his life is a serial killer. And then the realization that his serial killer is also a cannibal. Because of course if Will would ever date a serial killer it had to be the one that ate and cooked his victims too. And that he'd been feeding those people to Will.
It's been an emotional three months to say the least.
Surprisingly, the most difficult part to process is how much Will enjoys it all. He likes the fact that his boyfriend (for lack of a better term since Will refuses to give Hannibal the satisfaction of calling him his lover or paramore, even inside his own mind) is the Ripper. That he's a cannibal. And that Will likes the food he cooks. It pisses Will off that Hannibal's food is so delicious since cooking human can't be easy with how much Hannibal's victims' body types differ. It would probably be easier to cook real pork. It's unfair that Hannibal is perfect at everything, including murder and cannibalism. …It's also kind of hot.
But, with all of this to say, Will shouldn't be surprised when he comes home early unannounced to find Hannibal openly preparing a cannibalistic dinner in his kitchen. Somehow he is.
Will's been awake for nearly two days, he's been stuck in a car with the entire Behavioral Unit for almost four hours, and it's been pouring outside, so he's cold and dripping wet. He walks into the kitchen, sees Hannibal cutting meat off a human thigh and wants to jump off a cliff. He absolutely does not want to deal with this right now. He wants a hot shower and to sleep for three days. Goddammit. They lock eyes, and Will feels a migraine coming on.
Yeah, he is not fucking dealing with Hannibal's shit right now.
"Gonna take a shower," he says.
Hannibal blinks.
Will doesn't wait for him to reply and trudges up the stairs to Hannibal's room. God! Hannibal needs to be more fucking careful, and, honestly, screw him for having it all out in the open for Will to see and now have to deal with. It's a wonder Will loves him some days, but he'd be lying to himself if he ever said that it's difficult to love him. Loving Hannibal shouldn't be as easy as breathing, but it is, and it's the main reason Will's been able to so easily accept this lifestyle (even if he hasn't acknowledged it to Hannibal's face yet). He's irritated and tired, so in a surge of pettiness, Will leaves his wet clothes on the carpet outside of the bathroom. It serves Hannibal right for being so blatant with his crimes.
Hannibal has a shower and a bathtub in his ridiculous bathroom. Will sticks with a shower today. He thinks he'd fall asleep if he took a bath, and he's starving, so he still wants to eat after this. Will turns on the shower once he's inside and instantly relaxes when the steady water pressure and hot water fall onto him. He's getting used to this now. Living in luxury. Living in Hannibal's luxury. He turns, so the water hits his back, and he groans as he feels the tension bleed out of his muscles. Yeah, he's never giving this up.
His mind feels like pins and needles. TV static from his exhaustion. He thinks he might be too tired to be emotional about Hannibal, but then he remembers his weekend bender and trying to throw up after eating a person. (He couldn't, despite how hard he tried.) He's already been emotional about this. He's already processed it.
But Hannibal hasn't.
Will sighs. He'll deal with his melodramatic boyfriend after his shower. Preferably over dinner. His stomach growls as if the thought reminds it how empty it is, so he quickly finishes his shower, throws on some of Hannibal's sleepwear (pajamas would be too much of a casual term to call the knitted shirt and silky pants), and heads downstairs.
Hannibal is still in the kitchen. The leg is gone.
Will grins lazily and inwardly curses the way his heart melts when he sees Hannibal. He's absolutely gone on this man, and it's embarrassing. "Hey."
"Will." Hannibal is as stiff as a board.
Holy shit, he's nervous.
Will can't help but be endeared to the fact that his boyfriend, a serial killer and cannibal, is nervous to talk to him about this.
Will doesn't slow down and walks over to Hannibal and plants his head onto his chest and wraps his arms around him. Will breathes in deeply, and he's greeted with Hannibal's usual scent: a sharp, dark cologne, spices from the food he'd been preparing, and the slight metallic tang of blood. It took forever for Will to place that last part. The smell of Hannibal comforts him, and Will relaxes into the touch.
Hannibal doesn't. He continues to stand stiffly.
"Hold me," Will demands.
Hannibal immediately obeys.
He's afraid to lose me.
"I'm right here, okay?" Will reassures. His words are slightly slurred with exhaustion. "Not going anywhere."
"Will—"
And Will knows where this is going, but he's not having this conversation on an empty stomach. He'll do it sleep-deprived and exhausted down to his bones, but he won't do it hungry too. "I'm hungry. When's dinner?"
Will feels Hannibal swallow. Hesitantly, "I put it away."
"It's done cooking?" The leg Will had seen looked raw. It almost feels indecent to call a leg raw, but Will's too tired to care.
"No…I…stopped cooking."
Will actually pulls away at that. Just enough to look up at Hannibal. "What."
In a slight daze of bewilderment, "I assumed you would find it unappetizing."
"You assumed correctly, but I've had time to adjust. Please tell me there's food."
Hannibal is frozen. He stares down at Will with wide eyes.
Will asks, "Do I need to order a pizza?"
The threat snaps Hannibal out of it. "…You know." His voice still has an airy disbelief to it.
"Yes, I know, and I'm hungry, and I thought we'd be having this conversation over dinner."
He's starting to sound a bit more like himself when he asks, "How long have you known?"
Frustration burns inside Will's veins. Did Hannibal not hear how hungry Will is? But the joke's on him. Will knows all his buttons and soft spots. So he draws in close again and places his hands on Hannibal's waist where he's the softest. He mouths along Hannibal's neck before sinking his teeth into the skin. Not enough to break skin, but enough for it to be a bite.
Will pulls back enough to growl, "Feed me, Hannibal." Will hears Hannibal's breath hitch and can't help but grin. He has Hannibal, the Chesapeake Ripper, wrapped around his finger.
"I'll need about thirty minutes to finish dinner." Hannibal's voice is rough like it gets when Will teases him in bed for too long.
"That's better." Will pecks him on the cheek and gives him a dazzling smile when he pulls away.
And, oh shit. The look Hannibal is giving him.
Will's familiar with all of the looks Hannibal gives him from the frequent soft adoration to the ravaging lust saved for the bedroom. But Will's never seen this one. Hannibal's eyes are sparkling with wonder. Will thinks Hannibal doesn't realize he dazedly leans in after Will when he pulls away. Hannibal is completely under Will's spell.
Hannibal is in love with him.
They haven't said it to each other yet. All of the conflicted feelings Will's gone through during their relationship has delayed him from saying it. A few weeks ago in the midst of his confliction over Hannibal, he'd never even think about saying it. But now… He knew he's in love with Hannibal the second he accepted him for his murder and cannibalism—when he realized he liked Hannibal for his crimes and darkness. So, why hasn't Will said it yet? Why hasn't Hannibal said it yet? Is he waiting for Will to say it first?
Will has time to overthink it while Hannibal cooks. He sits at the dining table and thinks himself into circles. It doesn't help that he's so tired that his mind keeps skipping around like a broken record player and catching and repeating certain trains of thought. He lets out a frustrated huff and rests his head on his arms laid on the table. He closes his eyes. He's resting for only a moment.
"Will."
He jerks awake with a spike of adrenaline. He blinks and rubs a hand over his face. "Was I asleep?"
A warm hand cups his cheek and turns his face in Hannibal's direction. Loving eyes meet his. "Yes," Hannibal replies. One of his thumbs rubs across Will's cheek. It settles under his eye. "I didn't realize how tired you were."
Will hums. "Yeah. It's been a long couple days."
"Let me feed you."
Will is about to say that's exactly what he asked for, but then Hannibal is holding a fork in front of his face. Will blinks and realizes the table is set. Oh, Jesus. He'd been out. Will leans towards the forkful of heavenly smelling food, and Hannibal gently feeds him. It's sublime.
"Amazing," Will murmurs as Hannibal cuts him another piece.
Hannibal's eyes are glued to Will's mouth as he eats another bite. His eyes are dark, and his breathing is a touch too labored for him to be simply sitting beside Will.
Oh.
Hannibal is into this.
Will chews and swallows and watches how Hannibal's eyes snap to his throat. Will asks, "Is this the leg?"
A small, almost sheepish smile tugs at Hannibal's lips. "Yes." He cuts another piece for Will and brings it to his lips.
A warm fondness fills Will's chest. He takes a bite. Chews. Swallows. Hannibal continues to stare.
Will says, "I've known since July."
Hannibal falters as he cuts the meat.
"But I realized you were feeding them to me in the beginning of August."
"I had no idea." And Hannibal sounds…thrilled?
The reaction throws Will. "Y-yeah, I know."
Hannibal feeds him another bite.
Will continues, "I needed some time to…come to terms with it before I brought it up with you."
Amusement shines in Hannibal's eyes. "And how did you picture that conversation going?"
Will chuckles dryly. "I'm not really sure, and I think that's why I was putting it off."
"I supposed it worked out then." Hannibal shoves food into Will's mouth before he can answer.
Will swallows his bite. "You need to be more careful, Hannibal."
"I know what I'm doing, my love."
Will leans away from the food Hannibal tries to feed him. "You started dating the FBI profiler for your murders. That's not careful."
Light pink dusts Hannibal's cheeks. "I am quite enamored with you, Will. I usually have such rigid self-control, but I've found when it comes to you, I cannot control myself at all."
The admission makes Will's stomach swoop. He rolls his eyes and says, "You're ridiculous." He tries to bite back a grin, but he can't. "This conversation isn't over, but I'm too damn tired to have it right now."
"Alright, Will."
"I'm serious, Hannibal."
"I know you are."
"You're an asshole."
Hannibal feeds him again. They continue in comfortable silence.
The food is gone, but they're still sitting at the table beside each other when Will says, softly, "You know I love you, right?"
Hannibal freezes. He looks stricken. A deer in the headlights.
No one's ever said this to him before. Not really. No one's ever seen the entirety of him behind his person-suit and loved him.
The realization hits Will like a ton of bricks. He grabs Hannibal's hands. "Hey."
"Will, I…" Hannibal is blinking back tears.
"I love you."
"Will." He's breathless, and the tears freely fall down his face. His grip on Will's hands is tight.
"Bring me to bed? I want to hold you."
Hannibal nods, and Will pretends not to hear the helpless sound he makes.
When they both stand, Will isn't expecting Hannibal to pick him up, and he yelps in surprise before clinging onto Hannibal as he takes them upstairs. Hannibal's carried Will up the stairs to bed before, but it's usually lust-driven and desperate. Will's never taken the time to soak in Hannibal's strength and the gentle way he holds him. Will kisses Hannibal's neck, and he feels Hannibal's hold on him tighten.
"Love you," Will whispers because he can.
They reach the bedroom, and Hannibal carefully lays Will down as opposed to the other times where he practically throws Will onto the bed before hungrily crawling on top of him. Hannibal is sweet like this: gently brushing Will's curls from his face and tears staining his cheeks. Will's face aches from smiling.
"Hannibal?"
The bed dips as he settles in beside Will. "Yes, beloved?" They're so close Will feels Hannibal's breath fan across his face.
"I love you."
Hannibal is kissing him. It's heated, but it isn't lustful. It's hot like a bleeding heart or a furnace warming a home. It's a slow heat, building and intense. It burns how passion burns, and Will knows Hannibal is saying he loves him too. He's gently cradling Will's face in his hands. His warm body presses Will into the soft mattress. He's making these soft helpless sounds that pour directly into Will's mouth that he's never heard before.
Hannibal's completely undone, and Will's the one who undid him.
It seems fitting since Hannibal's done the exact same to Will.
"Will," he whispers breathlessly. He kisses him again. And again. Another quick brush of lips on lips and, "Will, I love you. I love you so much. Do you feel how I ache for you?"
It's Will's turn to make a helpless noise.
Hannibal doesn't stop kissing him. He doesn't stop whispering in a voice so fond it stings like a thorn on a rose. "I love you. I love you so, Will." More kisses. "I'd bring you the moon and the sun and God himself if you asked me."
Will's dizzy. He's tired and warm and comfortable and loved, and the words fall out of his mouth before he even knows he's speaking. "Let me watch you." Another kiss. "Please." He gasps, "I want to see how you do it."
"Do what, my love?"
"Kill."
"Will."
Their lips meld together, only broken apart by soft gasps and broken moans. It feels like an eternity has passed yet it feels like no time at all. Perhaps they exist outside of time, their love so strong they're enveloped in their own pocket universe. A place where only the two of them exist, and time is no longer real. A place where teacups can't shatter.
"Yes," Hannibal finally answers. "I'd love to show you."
They kiss again, and Will never wants them to part. He doesn't remember when he drifts off to sleep. He only knows the warmth and safety and comfort of unconditional love.
