Chapter Text
Part of the 'verse created by telera and trr_rr, with contributions by myself and anislandcalledcalifornia. Works aren't strictly interconnected, but all set in the same 'verse. Enjoy!
...
“I’m so fucking angry with you Hannibal.”
“Don’t speak to me like that please Will.”
“I’m not little right now, Hannibal, so I’ll speak to you any way I want.”
“It’s not about being little or grown up. It’s about being courteous.”
“Fuck. You.”
A pause. Will’s chest was heaving. A slight sheen of sweat covered his brow. Hannibal remained seated in his study.
“Tell me Will, tell me why you are so angry.”
“Tell you? You know why I’m angry. You undermined me at the crime scene, you made me look stupid. And before you ask me how it makes me feel, I’ll tell you right now, it makes me fucking furious!”
He was pacing. Hannibal had never seen him this angry.
“You need to relax Will.”
“Don’t tell me to relax. You made me look stupid and unstable. If this is some power play, some game to you, then I want out.”
“I can assure you nothing about this is a game to me. Or you. You know how I feel.”
“Do I?”
“What would you have me do? Agree with you just because we have a relationship outside of the FBI? That is morally wrong.”
Will couldn’t disagree with that.
It was late on a Thursday evening, their regular appointment time. Even though they had cemented their relationship both as lovers and as caregiver and little, Hannibal insisted they keep their session.
Hannibal had an inkling that Will would be angry, the way Will tensed up at the crime scene and then refused to make eye contact with Hannibal afterward.
“Morally wrong? Jesus, you’re the last person to talk about that.”
Hannibal sighed, picked a piece of lint from his trouser pants.
“How shall we resolve this, Will?”
Will threw his hands up.
“I don’t fucking know.”
“Language.”
Will rolled his eyes. Hannibal couldn’t entirely predict where this would go. Little Will may have thrown a tantrum, screaming and kicking his feet into the ground. He would have felt better afterwards, soothed and shushed by Hannibal as his daddy.
But not today. Will paced. Ran his hands through his hair.
“I want an apology.”
Hannibal’s mouth was fixed in a straight line.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
A shrug.
“I have nothing to apologise for. I did and said what I thought was right at the time. I will not censor my opinions or expertise to pander to your ego, Will.”
“My ego?!”
“Yes. Your ego.”
Will laughed.
“You know, I think I need a break.”
Hannibal stood up.
“Perhaps a good idea Will. Maybe we should spend this weekend apart.”
Will’s face went blank, any hint of a smirk gone. Eyes narrowed.
“Jesus. I just meant getting a cup of coffee or a whiskey, but you know what, if you want it longer than that, then fine.”
He went to get his coat from where he’d hung it by the door.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Well, regardless, it sounds like a good idea to me. Have a good weekend.”
And with that, he left, leaving Hannibal feeling disappointed, but mostly sad.
…
Will drove home angrily. He broke the speed limit, honked at slow drivers and was generally as impolite as he could be. He knew Hannibal wouldn’t be happy with his behavior.
He felt a little better when he drove up to his little house in Wolf Trap, and could hear the dogs barking and whining from inside. He opened the door and they tumbled out, Winston hanging back to stand beside him on the porch. He nudged Will’s hand with his nose.
“Heya Winston. Yeah, I missed you too.”
Another nudge. Will looked down into those chocolate brown eyes and sat down, Winston pressing his body against Will’s. He put his arm around the dog.
“Yeah, it’s a bit like that, isn’t it? I don’t know why I got so mad.”
Winston sighed.
“Yep. Well, I’ll be around this weekend. We can go fishing. Maybe go for a wander.”
Winston barked, then ran down the steps to join is friends in peeing and sniffing around. Will’s phone vibrated in his pocket. A message from Hannibal.
Did you get home alright?
Will rolled his eyes. He felt like throwing his phone into the bushes, but decided that was silly. He didn’t want to reply straight away, but knew that was silly too. He sighed and decided to be an adult about the situation.
Yes.
Will stood and whistled at the dogs. He wanted to have a quick dinner, take a shower and then go to bed. Tomorrow was Friday, he had back to back classes, then the weekend free, pending any crime scenes popping up.
Good. May I give you a call on Sunday?
Will ushered the dogs inside, locking the front door. Winter was over, but the night air still had a chill to it, so Will put on the space heater in the living room. The dogs curled up on their beds, licking and grooming.
If you want.
The thought of cooking anything made Will tired and sad. So he put some toast into the toaster and dumped a can of soup into a bowl to be microwaved. A far cry from the gourmet meals he ate with Hannibal.
I’ll speak to you then. Good night Will. I love you.
The microwave dinged, the toast popped up. Will sighed, put his phone on silent and took his dinner to the dining table to eat while reading an old fly-fishing magazine.
…
Hannibal kept an eye on his phone. There was no reply from Will.
He understood Will’s anger at the situation but would not apologise for it. Instead, he went home from his office and sat in his living room, reviewing the notes for the patients he was to see the next day.
Hannibal glanced at the space next to him on the couch. The pillow that rested at the end stuck out a little further than usual and when Hannibal went to move it, he found Mr Bear sitting behind it.
He smiled and picked up little Will’s beloved friend. A pang of sadness hit Hannibal as he rubbed the soft paw between his fingers.
Hannibal had had a fun weekend planned for little Will. He had purchased an art easel and a smock for his boy, with plenty of paper on it and a beautiful set of paints to go with it. He looked over at the closet where it was stored and then down at Mr Bear.
“Your friend Will is going to miss out on some fun this weekend, Mr Bear.”
Hannibal loved taking care of Will, whether he was big or little. But when Will was little, Hannibal found himself laughing more. He understood how much Will needed that release, those days and nights of carefree playtime when he did not have to worry about death and blood and bodies.
Grown up Will had moments of measured affection, but little Will was affectionate all the time; he hugged and kissed constantly. He held Hannibal’s hand and snuggled up to him at night. He loved to be held and fed a bottle, insisting before and after that he was a big boy and not a baby.
Hannibal smiled at the fond memories, his face etched in both joy and a slight sadness. Will was angry. But, in time, Hannibal knew things would be okay between them.
…
Will couldn’t sleep. He looked at the clock. 1:18am. He had climbed into bed at about 11, but had tossed and turned since. He could hear the dogs snuffling and twitching in their sleep. The world outside was silent, yet he was unable to rest.
Will knew why, but was too stubborn to acknowledge the fact that the reason he couldn’t sleep was because of the fight he had had with Hannibal.
He nuzzled into his pillow, chewing on the tip of his thumb. Sighing, he placed the entire thumb in his mouth and gave it a few sucks. It failed to comfort him and he rolled over, frustrated, in the cold bed.
Reaching over to his bedside table, he opened the low drawer and reached in, grabbing for the thing at the back of the drawer.
A spare pacifier.
Will took the cover off and placed it between his lips. He sighed and closed his eyes, concentrating on not the perceived silliness of a grown man sucking on a pacifier, but on the rhythm and his breathing as he sucked on it.
He rolled back over, grabbing one of the pillows from the other side of the bed and holding it in his arms. He closed his eyes and fell into a restless, unsatisfying slumber.
…
Friday was a blur. Will taught all day. Hannibal had seen patients for the first half and then settled in his office to do some editing on an article. He had been invited to a dinner party that evening at the house of Mrs Komeda, a friend and fellow opera lover. She had once tried to entice Hannibal romantically, but had been gracious and filled with good-humour when he gently turned her down.
At the end of the meal, when people were mingling, she made her way over, topping up his wine and looking at him cryptically.
“You’ve been very quiet all evening, Hannibal. You didn’t even compliment me on my homemade apple pie.”
Mrs Komeda pouted, her red lips puckering salaciously. Hannibal mustered a small smile.
“You and I both know you didn’t cook that pie yourself.”
She shrugged and held her wine glass up in a faux toast.
“Well the caterers made it. So it really was home made. Just not by me.”
A wink. Hannibal toasted that, took a drink and looked at his glass.
“Does your mood perhaps have something to do with that young man you spend so much time with?”
Hannibal looked up at the mention of Will. He was skilled at masking his emotions at the best of times, but Mrs Komeda smiled and winked. She took Hannibal by the elbow and walked him through to her study, a room decorated in dark wood and red velvet.
“In all my years of knowing you, I have never seen you like this. I would even dare to say you are quite smitten with this gentleman. What was his name…?”
“Will. Will Graham.”
“Ah yes. The FBI man. Trouble in paradise then?”
Hannibal fiddled with his cufflinks.
“Something like that.”
Mrs Komeda drained her wine and placed the glass on the desk. She sat on the chaise and gestured for Hannibal to sit next to her.
“I know you don’t let just anyone in, Hannibal. He must be very special to you.”
“He is. He is a remarkable person. We have a very special relationship.”
“Of course you do. Nothing could ever be smutty with you, Hannibal. But what is it that has disarmed you tonight? Did you two fight?”
Hannibal sighed. Twirled the stem of his glass between his fingers.
“We had…a disagreement.”
“Dare I ask what about?”
Mrs Komeda got up and poured herself a whiskey from the buffet at the side of the room. She held the glass up, offering one to Hannibal. He shook his head, holding up his still full wine glass.
The smell of whiskey as she sat next to him made Hannibal think of Will’s penchant for the drink.
“He was angry with me. I perhaps encroached on his territory at the FBI. The fault is mine.”
“Well. Why are you here? Why aren’t you with him, making things right?”
“I thought perhaps some time apart might be good.”
Mrs Komeda rolled her eyes but Hannibal ignored it and continued.
“We rely on each other. A lot. I find him fascinating and we have a mutually beneficial relationship, in many ways. Perhaps we are too close.”
The lady sighed.
“Hannibal. Do you love him?”
“Yes. Very much.”
“Then go. Go to him.”
“I think I will.”
Hannibal eyed the glass of whiskey in her hand.
“Is that a 30 year old Balvenie?”
Mrs Komeda shook her head in awe.
“You and that nose of yours. It is.”
“Would you happen to have a spare bottle? I’d like to take it to Will. A peace offering. I can send you a cheque on Monday for your troubles?”
She shook her hand and went over to the buffet, taking a new box out of the back and handing it to Hannibal.
“In your own time Hannibal. Now go. Oh, take some apple pie too?”
Hannibal smiled.
“Alright.”
…
Soon Hannibal was on his way to Wolf Trap, two slices of apple pie and the bottle of whiskey resting on the front seat.
The little house was dark as he drove up. The dashboard clock in Hannibal’s Bentley read 12:05am.
He got out of the car and walked up the steps. He could hear the dogs stirring inside. He knocked on the door.
“Will?”
A light came on. Movement. The inside door opened, the screen door remaining between them. Will looked rumpled from sleep, not entirely happy at being woken. The dogs pressed their way forward, keen to see Hannibal.
“What are you doing here? What time is it?”
“I apologise for turning up unannounced and at such an hour. It’s just after midnight.”
Will pushed the screen door open and the dogs rushed out.
“May I come in, Will?”
“I thought you wanted to spend this weekend apart?”
“Perhaps I was too hasty in my suggestion to do so. May I?”
Will sighed and moved aside, arms folded across his chest. He whistled and the dogs came back inside, sniffing around Hannibal and catching scent of the container of pie he held in his hand.
“How was your day?”
“Busy. Back to back classes. I was looking forward to a quiet weekend.”
A subtle dig that Hannibal was not offended by even thought it may have been Will’s intention. Instead he held up the container.
“I brought some dessert. And something to drink.”
Will shut the doors and rubbed his hands over his arms.
“I’m not hungry.”
“It’s apple pie. My friend, Mrs Komeda, made it and insisted I bring you a piece.”
“Oh. She knows about us?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t she?”
Will shrugged.
“I don’t know. I don’t really picture you gabbing to your friends about your crazy partner.”
“You’re not crazy Will.”
“You know what I mean.”
Will picked up the whisky and looked at Hannibal.
“Where did you get this?”
“I borrowed it from her collection.”
“Hannibal, this is worth nearly a thousand dollars.”
“I thought you might like it.”
A pause as Will turned the box over in his hands. He put it down.
“You can’t just buy your way out of what happened, Hannibal.”
“I wouldn’t dishonor you or our relationship by even thinking of doing so. You know me better than that.”
“Well then what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you. I wanted to make things right.”
Hannibal glanced around Will’s little house. The dogs were sitting on their beds, watching them. Will’s bed sheets and blanket were twisted. Hannibal noticed the pacifier sitting on the bedside table. He looked back at Will, who knew he had seen it. He walked over angrily and snatched it up in his hand before throwing it back in the bottom drawer.
“I missed you Will.”
“It’s been just over 24 hours.”
Hannibal gave a small shrug.
“Then I have missed you for just over 24 hours.”
Will gave a small smirk. Hannibal couldn’t tell if it was because he thought he was being cheesy, or if he was trying to mask genuine happiness at being missed.
“I missed you too.”
“But…I made you angry.”
“You did.”
“I didn’t realise it would have caused the reaction it did. I will endeavor not to make the same mistake again.”
Will went into the kitchen and got out two plates for the pie, putting them in the microwave to reheat. He put the kettle on and took out two mugs, putting a tea bag in each.
He handed a plate of hot pie and a mug of tea to Hannibal and followed him with his own. They sat in the armchairs that sat to the side of the fireplace. The dogs began to settle.
Will took a bite of the apple pie.
“Mmm. This is good. Your friend is a good cook.”
Hannibal smiled, took a sip of tea, but left his pie untouched. He put his mug on the floor, leaving his plate resting on the arm of the chair.
He took the plate from Will who gave him a quizzical look. Hannibal took a forkful of pie and blew on it. He held it up in front of Will’s mouth.
“You…you don’t have to do this.”
“I know. I want to. Let me.”
“I’m not little right now, Hannibal.”
“I know that too. I need this. Please.”
Will swallowed. Oh how he knew he needed it too. But he couldn’t admit that to Hannibal. He had seen the pacifier, so knew that Will had missed him. Still the admittance was never easy to come by.
Slowly, he opened his mouth and allowed Hannibal to feed him the first piece. He chewed and swallowed. Hannibal smiled and loaded up another forkful.
Will ate in silence. When he was done, he drank his tea and watched as Hannibal ate his own pie. Will yawned.
“It’s too late for you to drive back to Baltimore. Stay here?”
Hannibal nodded and placed his and Will’s dishes in the sink. Will went to the bottom drawer of his bureau where he kept some spares of Hannibal’s clothes and handed him a pair of pyjama bottoms and a long sleeved top. He brushed his teeth while Hannibal removed his suit, placing it carefully over the backs of one of the armchairs.
“I left a spare toothbrush on the sink for you.”
Will climbed into bed and was soon joined by Hannibal, who turned the lights off before he covered them both with the blanket.
Soon after, Hannibal’s arms snaked around Will, pulling him close.
Will sighed and despite his best efforts to resist, he nuzzled his face into Hannibal’s neck. He breathed in his scent - fine cologne and a hint of cigar smoke.
“I missed you Will.”
A yawn. Another nuzzle.
“So you keep saying.”
“Did you miss me?”
“I did.”
“Did little Will miss his daddy?”
A pause. When Will spoke again, his voice was younger in the dark.
“He did.”
“I see you tried to soothe yourself.”
Will blushed at the memory of the pacifier.
“It didn’t feel the same.”
“No, I imagine it wouldn’t have.”
They lay there for a few moments, listening to the few night birds outside still making their calls.
“I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you.”
“Quite alright. You were upset.”
“Still. It was rude.”
“A little perhaps.”
Will yawned. The temptation to stick his thumb in his mouth and fall asleep immediately in Hannibal’s arms was strong. Hannibal brought his hand up and ran it through Will’s curls.
“I had a wonderful weekend planned for little Will.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mmhmm.”
Will closed his eyes, allowing the tiredness to take over.
“Wh…what’d you have planned?”
“I thought perhaps he and I could do some art, then go for a drive somewhere. There are a few farms nearby starting to get some good produce.”
Will gave up the fight and brought his hand up to his mouth. He placed his thumb in his mouth and sighed contentedly. Hannibal sensed what Will was doing in the dark. He could feel Will’s hand against his body, moving rhythmically as he sucked his thumb.
“’d like that.”
Hannibal kissed Will’s forehead, closing his eyes, on the verge of sleep himself.
“I knew you would darling. I knew you would.”