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Will found himself in a bad mood- he’d felt off all day, and was looking forward to bed. It seemed to be one of those days that could only be solved by starting a new one. It was nearing their usual bedtime anyway- he and Hannibal were in front of the fire in the usual formation, each in their own high-backed chair, the dogs dozing around them. Maki, the grey and white fluffy thing, had his big head laying sweetly on Hannibal's sock-covered feet. Hannibal was unbothered, but Will knew that tune would change if Maki started drooling. Hannibal enjoyed the dogs in his own way- especially Maki, who was fervently devoted to Hannibal for reasons Will couldn't gleam- but he only tolerated so much nonsense from them. The smaller dogs, Lara and Petunia, who preferred Will, were curled up around each other on a blanket, away from the fire but still close enough to be in their owners' line of sight.
It was too warm for a fire anyway- spring was on its way to ending- but Will liked to keep up the nightly routine of a fire before bed for as long as they could.
"I would like to take a trip soon," Hannibal said, not looking up from his tablet until he was done speaking. He had started to have to wear reading glasses once he turned 55, a decade ago, joining Will in the land of the far-sighted. Hannibal ordered a new pair of glasses online annually; Will still bought his from the rack at the pharmacy when he lost the last pair.
"Alright," Will said, not looking away from his own book. If Hannibal was bringing it up like this, he had likely at least already planned it out, if not went ahead and bought tickets. "Would you like me to come?"
Will glanced up to see Hannibal giving him an unimpressed look, and he sighed as he put his book down, though he couldn't help from smiling. "I'm kidding. Where do you want to go?"
"I was wondering if you would let me surprise you."
That got Will's attention. He took a good look at Hannibal, who was a picture of innocence- to anyone but Will. Loving husband, suggesting a surprise trip. Will's mind immediately began racing, and he could tell by the gleam in his eyes that Hannibal noticed.
"When?"
"Three weeks from today, if you're amicable."
"That's my birthday."
"I'm aware."
Will took off his own glasses and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn't annoyed, per se, but he did wish Hannibal hadn't thrusted this on him so late at night.
“How do you intend for us to go somewhere without me knowing where? We’re flying, right?”
“Yes, we’ll need to fly. If you’re good and keep your headphones on and your eyes closed when I tell you, then we can do it that way. But there is another option. We’ve done it before.”
They had done it before- pre-settling in Portugal, the six year period when they rarely stayed in one place for more than a few months. On two separate occasions, Will had fallen into a deep, drug-induced sleep on one continent and then woken up on another. At the time it had been in the spirit of ‘letting Hannibal take care of things’- fun and pleasing and near erotic. Will was by no means opposed to the idea now except- the vacation plan was different. Hannibal genuinely didn’t think Will would go, if Hannibal told him what he was planning.
“How would we even do that on a plane? I need to be able to board, to walk through security.”
“Let me handle that part of it.”
“Let you handle every part of it, you mean.”
Hannibal tilted his head, considering. “I could be convinced to allow you to pack your own luggage.”
It was a bit of a joke, but not enough of one to stop Will from feeling pissed off. He still had to laugh, a little. He stood and muttered to himself, walking past Hannibal’s frowning form, and whistled for the dogs to follow him. He let them out into the front yard, and let himself lean against the porch railing. He didn’t have to turn around to know Hannibal, as stealthy as ever, was watching from the doorway.
“I find myself uncertain to the degree in which you’re upset,” Hannibal said, voice quiet. “Perhaps I should have broached the subject in another way.”
“I am… anxious,” Will said, not liking how the word sounded on his tongue. “And caught off guard, which makes me more anxious.”
“Anxious of what I will do to you?” Hannibal asked. “Of why I want to take you on a trip?”
“Of course not,” Will said, and watched Lara set her sights on a lightning bug. She was the only one of the dogs that ever showed much interest in chasing things, but she was too small to ever do any real damage. “You want to go to the States, right? That’s why it’s a secret?”
Hannibal’s silence was answer enough. It was fairly obvious to Will, but if he had been in a better mood he would’ve kept it to himself, to honor Hannibal’s surprise. He wasn’t in a better mood. They hadn’t been to the United States once since their fall. It had been the one risk that Will had always vetoed, and eventually Hannibal stopped suggesting it.
“Not Baltimore,” Will said, forcing himself to sound firm, though he felt too exhausted to really put up a fight. “Nowhere on the East Coast.”
“I always wondered if you would eventually become less anxious about our being caught, as the years pass and we are not. It seems the opposite is true.”
“Sometimes I feel like we’re running toward a bomb,” Will confessed. “Here- not moving around, not… not killing as artfully. It’s like we’ve won ourselves more time, before the inevitability.”
“If I could convince you that our being found out and separated wasn’t an inevitability, I would. But you seem enamored with the idea.”
Will wasn’t sure how fair that was; he just sighed in response.
“I’m not taking you to Baltimore,” Hannibal said after a long pause. “Nor to anywhere we have been before, at least not together.” Somewhere Hannibal had been without him, then? Will felt overwhelmed with the potential.
“It kills me sometimes, knowing there are still things you haven’t told me. I feel like you know everything about me.” Will wasn’t entirely sure where the sentiment came from, but it was true. He heard Hannibal approach him, and Hannibal wrapped his arms around him tightly. Will allowed it, but didn’t lean into it.
“Every day of my life I find myself shocked to learn something new about you, Will.” Hannibal said, still soft, in his ear. “If not about your life, then about how you think. What you think. It has never been satisfying for me to simply eat a great dish.”
“You have to create it.”
“No,” Hannibal corrected, firmly. He squeezed Will even tighter. “I must break it down to its most basic elements. I must understand why it is exceptional.”
“Should I be concerned you’re comparing me to a dish?” Will asked, facetious in response to feeling genuinely pleased.
“I’ll never stop wanting to break your bones down to a powder, Will. Bear witness to each layer of your muscles, each cell of your entire being. Understanding, more than consumption.”
Will didn’t respond but he finally relaxed into Hannibal’s grasp, letting his head fall back against Hannibal’s shoulder. Hannibal immediately kissed his temple.
“I’m not mad,” Will said, feeling the need to clarify just in case. “It’s been a long day. And it’s been quiet around here; you surprised me.”
“Perhaps I should surprise you more, then. Keep you on your toes.”
“Oh, Christ,” Will said, laughing, something soft and light. “We’ll start with the vacation.”
***
Will did his best to be more relaxed in the weeks leading up to their trip- it was easier than he thought, mainly because Hannibal kept on giving him things to do. Will knew he was doing it so Will would be occupied and therefore less worried, but Will wasn’t particularly bothered by it- it worked.
Hannibal had asked him to build them a new dining room table. It was something Will had already wanted to do for a while (he’d built their current one years prior and while it was satisfactory, he knew he could do better). Will liked building things for their home but found building the table in which they’d eat their meals especially gratifying. It was important to him to make something that deserved to hold what Hannibal cooked for him, what they both put on the table.
Hannibal had also been busier than usual- Will couldn’t tell if he was planning something or if he was just trying to keep himself occupied as well. As a result, and unusually, Hannibal hadn’t seen the new table in any of its stages of production. Will would have liked to have it just appear in the dining room one day, as a surprise, but he was honestly apprehensive about getting it into the house even with Hannibal’s help- and he hated having other people in their home. As it was, Hannibal got to see the table for the first time when it was still in Will’s workshop, but his reaction was exactly as Will had anticipated.
It was similar to their current table- classic, made with a darker wood. But it was the craftsmanship that Will knew Hannibal would appreciate, Will’s dedication to their home and the refinement in his woodworking due to years of experience making anything Hannibal requested. Will was proud of it looking at it by himself, but it was something remarkable to look at with Hannibal- who was as serious as death, eyes shining with attention and fondness. He looked over the table, spending time with it, before he came back to where Will was watching. Hannibal took his face in his hands and kissed him firmly before putting an arm around his waist and looking back at the table.
“It’s beautiful, Will.”
Will felt his throat catch at the words, and couldn’t even bring himself to feel embarrassed by it. He burrowed more into Hannibal for a few moments before quietly saying, “Thank you,” and then asking Hannibal to help him move it inside.
***
“Is there anything I can do to make you less concerned about our being found out while in the United States?” Hannibal asked. It was early in the morning, just four days before Will’s birthday. Three days before they left. Will was at their new dining room table, sipping at his third cup of coffee as Hannibal made breakfast.
Will blinked at the question. “Very considerate of you,” he said. Hannibal frowned at his tone, and Will sighed and thought about it. He didn’t even know specifically where they were going, or what Hannibal was planning on them doing- it was hard to ban anything when he didn’t even know what was an option.
He didn’t say anything until Hannibal joined him at the table, serving fruit and toast and some- porridge? Soup? Will started to pick up his spoon to see but was caught by a hand tight around his wrist.
“Will,” Hannibal said, imploring.
Will sighed. Breakfast smelled delicious, as always. “A degree of caution,” he finally said. “I trust your judgement- I know you don’t want us to be separated either.”
“I wouldn’t abide by it,” Hannibal said, eyes dark. He kissed Will’s hand before releasing it.
They ate.
***
Will fell asleep in his bed, in his home, in Portugal. He fell asleep in his husband’s arms, with their dogs asleep on piles of blankets on the floor beside them- a rare treat Hannibal had allowed since it was the day before their trip, and they wouldn’t be seeing the dogs for a couple of weeks.
Will slept deeply, and did not dream.
When he woke, he was in a bed he did not recognize, in a room he did not recognize. If there was any immediate fear response, it was calmed when Will realized Hannibal was near him. Will did feel shocked by his own lack of concern, but hoped that was the drugs as well. He shifted, stretching each limb. He felt foggy but aware of himself and his surroundings.
Hannibal was stretched out on the bed beside him, apparently just watching him sleep.
“You’re a creep,” Will said, voice hoarse. “Can I have water?”
“Of course,” Hannibal said, pointedly ignoring Will’s first statement. He brought Will a glass from the bathroom, which Will quickly gulped down.
“How did you get me on a plane?” Will asked, slowly standing up from the bed. He wasn’t even particularly dizzy- he wondered what Hannibal had dosed him with, but wasn’t concerned enough to ask. It didn’t really matter.
Hannibal gave him a vague, barely there smile, didn’t answer, and left the room.
The bedroom had large windows- Will looked out and frowned at what he saw. All beach, as far as he could see. Hannibal had said they weren’t going to the East Coast, and it certainly wasn’t the Gulf of Mexico. Will realized it was likely California, which seemed… odd.
The villa was decently sized but just luxurious enough to make Will uncomfortable, even after all this time. Will checked it out briefly before finding Hannibal on the patio, looking out toward the ocean. He looked perfect against the backdrop of the beach- fine linen shirt and gray slacks and gray boat shoes with dark blue laces.
“Do you want to go for a walk?” Will asked. He was a little hungry, but mainly just antsy.
Hannibal smiled and offered his hand in response.
It became clear they were on an island just off the coast of a major city- Will guessed San Diego. He and Hannibal were able to walk the width of the island easily, in just under thirty minutes, passing by all sorts of shops and an old fashioned movie theatre and even a small museum, all of which Will knew he would pulled into at some point. At the other end of the island, they stumbled upon a farmer’s market- though, knowing Hannibal, Will figured it wasn’t much of a coincidence.
They bought cheeses and crackers and olive oil and three cartons of the biggest strawberries Will had honestly ever seen in his life.
For as easily as Hannibal could find good food, Will was equally skilled at finding solitude- he led them to a quiet bench away from the bustling tourists and marketplace.
The weather was perfect, the food was perfect. Hannibal- well. It was Hannibal. Will felt relaxed, and extremely unknown and unworried, with salty wind in his hair and while taking a bite of some soft cheese.
“Happy birthday, my love,” Hannibal said, pressing a strawberry to Will’s lips. Will obediently opened his mouth and took a heaping bite of the berry, feeling the juice run down his chin.
Hannibal pulled the leaf of the strawberry away, only to lean in and lick the juice from Will’s chin, and then directly from his mouth.
It was obscene, but it just made Will grin which, in turn, always, made Hannibal smile in response.
By the afternoon, Will found himself clear-headed and rather hyper. The drugs were out of his system, but he had slept a long time, and not even the long walk had been enough to tire him.
The image of Hannibal’s mouth coated in strawberry juice was still seared in his head, and as soon as they were back in the villa and their food put away, he pressed Hannibal against the wall and kissed him hard, tasting strawberry and olive oil and Hannibal .
They kissed for a long time, Will feeling desperate for it. Eventually, wanting more, Will pushed both his hands up Hannibal’s shirt, running his fingers teasingly down Hannibal’s sides and digging in a bit hard to his stomach.
Hannibal tightened a hand in his hair and slipped his other hand down to squeeze Will’s ass. Will hummed, pulling away from Hannibal’s mouth to start pressing wet kisses into his throat.
“Will,” Hannibal said, squeezing him again. “I’m going to shower. Wait for me in the bedroom.”
Will nodded- it wasn’t exactly a question- and stepped away so Hannibal could go, but then Will caught his wrist before he could leave the room. “I want to fuck you,” he said, flushing despite himself.
Hannibal looked playfully conspiratorial. “I know.” He slipped out of Will’s grasp into the bathroom.
Will, feeling stupidly happy, went to the bedroom. He laid down on the bed for a moment, pressing his palm against his cock to take the edge off, and then deciding to attempt to distract himself by unpacking his luggage.
It more or less worked, and by the time Will had finished, the sound of the shower running a room over had ceased.
Will sat on the bed, anticipatory. He ran his palm along the wooden headboard, and then took a good look at it. It was ornate, obviously hand carved and antique. There were fragments of seashells pressed into the wood, delicate and elegant. He heard soft footsteps and sensed Hannibal standing in wait at the door of the bedroom.
“I want to make us a bed, next.” Will said, still touching the headboard, not looking back toward Hannibal. “When we get back. You’re not attached to the one we have right?” It was a metal thing- Hannibal had ordered it online without Will’s input, which had been fine at the time. But Will liked the idea of sleeping in something he had made. Of fucking Hannibal in something he had made.
He turned when Hannibal didn’t respond, and quickly realized it was something Hannibal found appealing as well. He was naked, looking at Will like, well, like he wanted to eat him alive. Which wasn’t new, certainly, but was always welcome.
It was heady, making Will feel heated all over. “Come here.”
Hannibal was over Will quickly, pressing him into the bed as Will scooted down so they were both lying down. Hannibal was fiercely kissing him- Will could imagine him, patient and wanting in the shower, and the idea made him smile. He ran his hands down Hannibal’s back over his ass, unsurprised but pleased to feel his entrance already wet with lube.
Will easily turned Hannibal over, hovering over him. Hannibal’s eyes flashed something dark in response, which only made Will smile more.
“You seem amused,” Hannibal said, voice rough, biting at Will’s throat half-playfully.
“Not amused,” Will murmured, pulling away to yank off his shirt and shove his shorts and underwear down in one. “Just happy.” He leaned in to take Hannibal’s mouth again.
Skin to skin, Will lost any patience he had left, and turned his attention to Hannibal’s chest, kissing and running his teeth down while he teased at Hannibal’s wet entrance. He bit lightly at Hannibal’s collarbone and pressed a finger inside him.
“I don’t need that- you can just have me.” Hannibal said, quietly, though he pressed down onto the single finger.
Will tutted a little, distracted for a moment by how Hannibal’s hair fell over his forehead. “I know what you need.”
At that Hannibal groaned loudly, and Will grinned and took the opportunity to slip another finger inside him, pressing inside until Hannibal twitched and grasped hard at Will’s hair. “Will.”
Will took pity on him fairly quickly- it wasn’t like he didn’t want it as well. He turned Hannibal onto his side and spooned up behind him- it wasn’t the most productive position, but Will loved the closeness of it.
Hannibal moved well for him, always looked so gorgeous under him, over him. Will told him so, words murdered into the nape of his neck as Will started to really fuck him.
“I want to see you,” Hannibal said, and the desperation of it made Will desperate in turn. He quickly rearranged them so he had Hannibal’s legs around his waist, one hand holding them in place as the other gripped Hannibal’s shoulder.
“Hannibal,” Will grunted, and Hannibal’s legs tightened around him. Hannibal had one hand around his own cock, lazy strokes turning quick to match Will’s harsh pace, and the other hand on Will’s neck, nails digging sharp into the back of his neck.
Will felt as if he was under Hannibal’s command and in control of his pleasure all it once, and it felt amazing, sacred, fucking hallowed to be able to know and have Hannibal in such a way.
Hannibal came on his own stomach, somehow digging his nails harder into Will’s neck, hard enough Will was certain he’d see red under his nails. Will came not long after, breathing heavy against Hannibal’s throat. Hannibal was petting his back gently by the end of it. If there was blood mingled in with the sweat, it’d be down his back now. Will didn’t care in the least.
He rolled onto his side, trying to get his weight off of Hannibal, but Hannibal quickly tugged him back so Will was half lying across his chest, pressing him into the soft bed.
***
On the eighth day of their trip, just after an early dinner, Hannibal told Will they were going to the mainland.
“Aright,” Will said easily. “What’s the dress code?”
Hannibal hesitated a little. “Walking through a forest in the dark,” he finally said.
“Oh.” Will had been expecting a show. Maybe opera. They’d mostly stayed on the island, walking the width of it daily, shopping and eating and spending an inordinate amount of time in bed.
“There’s something I need to show you,” Hannibal said, and the way he said it made Will realize that it was the something he had been brought to California for.
“When did you come to California before?” Will finally asked, wondering how much he would be able to get out of Hannibal before they arrived at their location.
“I had just moved to Baltimore. I needed to dispose of a body. At the time, it seemed wise to take it as far away as possible.”
Will blinked. “You brought me all this way to show me a dead body?” He asked, dryly, though his tone sobered when he saw Hannibal’s expression. That was exactly what Hannibal had done.
***
Will honestly thought he was probably getting too old for this, being led through a dark wood and then presented with a large- body sized- metal box. Will felt almost as if a cat had left a dead rat at his door- except he wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to be doing with whatever this was.
“Did- did you bring me here to show me the first person you killed in America?” Will asked, trying to keep his tone neutral. Hannibal had gradually shut down as they got closer to their destination, barely giving any clues to Will on why this was so important or how Will was supposed to react.
Hannibal didn’t respond immediately. It wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar position for Will, who had beared witness to many of Hannibal’s halting, uncharacteristically inarticulate stories of his life from before he was Dr. Hannibal Lecter, before his veil was fully formed. Will used to wonder if it would be easier if he said it in a different language, Italian or even Lithuanian- but knew it wasn’t the language that made Hannibal unable to speak, but the memories themselves.
“I was 23. I was exceptionally young and foolish.” Hannibal’s tone was full of disdain, deadly and derisive. This was not a murder that Hannibal was proud of, Will realized. Hannibal hated himself for this murder.
Will felt a sudden wave of genuine fear at what he would see when he opened the box, though he couldn’t imagine what it was that could be so bad that he would be scared of seeing it, with everything else he had seen Hannibal do.
Will opened the box. It was a simple skeleton, dusty bones and not much else. Will could have laughed in relief, and in shock. He was glad he didn’t, however, when he looked up and saw Hannibal’s expression. His eyes were dark, and the lines on his face heavy. He looked devastated. Will had the brief thought that if Hannibal were ever going to kill him, he’d look like that when he did it.
Realizing that Hannibal wouldn’t be able to tell him what he wanted Will to know, Will turned his attention back to the bones. Most of them were in one piece- at first glance the skull seemed to be missing, but when Will looked closer he realized there was a sizable collection of bone chips and fragments where the skull would’ve been.
“He didn’t understand,” Will said. He hadn’t reconstructed a crime scene in over fifteen years, and it didn’t seem as if that was what he was doing in the moment, either. It felt like empathizing with Hannibal, not as a murderer or an artist or even as his own husband, but as a Hannibal he had only ever seen glimpses of. A young, foolish man. “You didn’t understand either.”
The pieces fell together easily, sensations and images sliding easily into Will’s mind. Hannibal, young, relocated for the nth time in his life, painstakingly breaking down someone’s skull into the smallest possible pieces. Burying him deep but still finding it necessary to bring Will to him, years and years later. It was wrenching.
“Oh, God,” Will said, suddenly overcome by the realization. His hand went to his stomach, pressing against his scar, before he even realized what he was doing. “You told him, and he didn’t understand. You wanted to be seen. Oh, Hannibal-” Will took two long steps toward him, not feeling any fear anymore, and hugged him tight. Hannibal didn’t react in the slightest, but it didn’t deter Will. It was clear what had happened to the man in the box. It was very close to the same thing that had happened to Will, in Hannibal’s kitchen.
Eventually, Will began to shiver a little. They needed to be getting back. Will finally pulled back, only barely able to meet Hannibal’s eyes. He had an idea, but wasn’t sure how Hannibal would take it. It wasn’t exactly a prudent moment to be doing anything risky, but Will couldn’t deny what he wanted. “Would you mind if I take some of the skull fragments?”
Hannibal didn’t even react much at that, which wasn’t especially reassuring. He just nodded, and extracted himself from Will’s arms.
Will returned to the box and carefully collected the bits of skull. It would have been easy to think of whoever this young man had been as himself- someone who rejected Hannibal’s understanding. If this man had accepted Hannibal, then-
“Shit,” Will muttered, one of the bone shard slicing his left ring finger. It was a small cut, and the blood trickled down to his wedding band. Will stared for a moment, before shaking himself out of it.
The man in the box could have never accepted Hannibal. He hadn’t been Will.
Will quickly collected the rest of the shards, closed the box back up, and went to where Hannibal waited- not another thought for the man who was once made up by the bones they were leaving behind.
“I cut myself,” Will said, holding his hand out to Hannibal for inspection. Hannibal, still halting and entirely ungently, took Will’s hand in his own. He pressed his mouth to the bloody finger, as Will knew he would do. He licked up the blood, and then scraped his teeth against the cut until Will inhaled sharply and gritted his teeth.
Hannibal’s eyes were still dark, and expression still closed off, but he didn’t let go of Will’s hand.
***
Hannibal definitely wasn’t his usual self the rest of their trip, to the point where Will requested they return home five days early. Hannibal yielded easily, and Will got to find out how he’d been transported to California in the first place (a chartered jet with an extraordinarily well compensated pilot).
Even once back home, Hannibal was temperamental and on edge for longer than Will would have expected. They both kept to themselves during such times- Hannibal spent a lot of time with his harpsichord, and Will devoted himself to the dogs and to his next woodworking project.
Their ‘vacation’ had ended up being emotionally exhausting for the both of them (when Diana- a woman from the closest town who they had adopted their dogs from, and who they paid to watch over the dogs when needed- had come by to drop off the spare key and ask how their trip had been, Will had felt struck by the question- ‘Oh, just wonderful, Diana, my husband showed me a corpse he’d murdered 40 years prior.’ Will had told her it had been nice but tiring). As a result of the emotional fallout, Will enjoyed having a physical, manual task he could throw himself into.
Overall the bed frame was less time-intensive than even the kitchen table had been, but the headboard was a different story. Will, prone to perfectionism anyway, became obsessive over every detail of the carving, every inlay.
By the time Will had finished the bed- put together, it almost took up his entire workshop- Hannibal had been back to his old joyous self for a while. Will was almost tentative in showing Hannibal what he’d done, worried it would bring up negative feelings again- but he knew he would have to show him eventually.
He found Hannibal on the porch, looking introspective and scratching Maki’s head.
“Hannibal. I have a surprise for you.”
Hannibal was smiling as he turned to look back at Will. “Our new bed?”
Will nodded, and waved him to come over. He wasn’t surprised Hannibal had assumed it was the bed; he was certain Hannibal had no idea what else awaited him.
Hannibal made his way leisurely to the workshop, Maki being left behind to doze on the porch. Will let him in and they took in the bed together. Hannibal was obviously immediately pleased as he took in the craftsmanship of the bed- it was, Will had to admit, a beautiful bed.
Will watched Hannibal’s face carefully as he went to look at the headboard. Will hadn’t had enough confidence in himself to carve a specific image into it, so it was more abstract shapes and designs, but Will thought it had turned out wonderfully. Inlaid, were fragments of white, shining like the seashells had in their bed at the villa.
Hannibal stiffened as he noticed them. Here we go, Will thought. “Are these…” Hannibal began to ask, trailing off uncharacteristically.
“They’re definitely not seashells,” Will said, voice rough. Neither of them needed to hear him say it.
Hannibal hadn’t asked what Will had done with the bone shards, but it was clear he hadn’t anticipated this. “What did you intend by this, Will?” He asked, tone careful.
“I want you to understand that he doesn’t matter. He’s just bone now,” Will said, feeling the strength in his own conviction. “You and I are all that matters. Us, our family,” he said, knowing Hannibal liked it when he called them a family.
There was a dense pause, and then Hannibal moved quickly, hugging Will close to him. It was the return of Will’s embrace in the woods, when Hannibal was too lost in his own mind to accept it.
Will sighed happily, and wrapped his arms around Hannibal in turn.