Who: Hannibal and Will What: Sausages and sweets, some talking Where: Will's house When: Not too long ago Rating/Warning: Low/none, shockingly enough Status: Complete
Apparently there's a new dog in Will's small but inevitably growing pack. So Hannibal made sausages (pork, thank you) for Buster, Winston, and the new recruit, and a few pastries for Will's sweet tooth, and headed over to say hello to everyone.
Will is jolted into reality when he hears the doorbell. His mind is slipping away again, and he's struggling to keep a hold of it. The new dog helps. He opens the door with a vague smile, happy to see the only face that strangely makes sense in everything. "I wasn't expecting you. Come in."
Poor Will and his troubled mind. Hannibal is tempted to coerce Will into moving in, to keep him close and be able to watch him, but he does know Will's stubborn streak.
He kisses Will's cheek and takes his hand to squeeze it. "I thought I'd surprise you, and meet the new addition to your pack. How are you faring?"
"I'm ... Here." Which sounded better than saying he was alive, because sometimes Will just doesn't feel like he is. But he's mostly present. He closes the door behind Hannibal, whistling for the dogs to come join them. "I'm - Trying to move past the appearance of Dolarhyde. I'm trying to be the bigger man here."
"He doesn't know who he is yet, or if he does he holds it in remarkably well. He has no reason to come after you. And if he does, you know you have me by your side." The box of pastries is handed to Will, and Hannibal crouches to break up the freshly cooked sausages and hand them out.
"How is Audra fitting in? Well, I hope." He gives her a scratch behind the ears, grudgingly accepting the kisses he gets in return.
"I know. I know." Will runs his hands down his face. "It's not - I don't care. I don't care if he knows or doesn't know it's just the idea of him. The whole thing screwed me up. I don't want to be reminded of that on top of everything else." The first set of dreams had been horrifying. Will remembers that feeling of being scared. He thinks, maybe, in the new dreams he might not be so scared of it all. But the first dreams, that version of Will couldn't ever come back from that. And that lingers.
Will sets aside the box, watching Hannibal. This is nice. A picture of strange domesticity. "She fits in perfectly. The other two love her. Buster especially."
"Good. That's good."
Hannibal stands again once the treats are given out and pulls Will into his arms, nuzzling his hair tenderly. "You have things you didn't have in the dreams, the first time. You are stronger here than you were there. Braver. And you have me fighting for you."
Will breathes out, heavily through his nose. He's not unlike a petulant child. "Would you? Don't lie to me, either. If he starts to dream, and he will, and if he starts to wonder about that life, would you be able to stay away from that?"
"I will admit I would be curious as to his dreams. But if it came between you and him, you have my loyalty."
It's minimally comforting. Will presses his face into Hannibal's neck before stepping away. He gets the box of sweets to bring into the kitchen. "What's new in the life of Hannibal?"
"Not overmuch. My clients haven't changed, my days are largely the same. Perhaps I need a vacation." Hannibal follows, and looks at Will with an expression of suggestion.
Will's lips turn up in one of his smiles, the sort that look like they're not sure if they belong on his face or not. "You say that and all I hear is that you already have a vacation planned and you just want to feel out where I stand on it."
"If you don't wish to join me, I'd be disappointed, but I wouldn't hold it against you." That small little smile breaks Hannibal's heart and he kisses the corner of it. Trying to transform it into something sure and solid. "That said, you are invited."
Leaning back against the counter, he watches Hannibal, still looking amused. "Well, the funny thing about being a secretary for a personal practice means that when my boss takes vacation, I take a vacation. And it'd probably get boring for me if my boyfriend was out of town while I was on vacation."
"Your boyfriend?" The phrase makes him smile and he slides closer, their noses practically touching. "And if your boyfriend found a nice, secluded little place for rent in the wine country, would you join him for a week or two?"
"It is weird to say, isn't it? Partner? Gentleman friend?" Will's own smile settles into something more natural. "Is it dog friendly?"
"I've used partner in talking about you before. Whatever makes you comfortable." There's that smile he was looking for, and he kisses it, resting his hands at Will's hips. "I imagine it would be."
"Mm -" Will gives Hannibal a kiss in turn. "Have you?" He likes that, Hannibal talking about him like that. It's a good context to be a part of. "Then I say I think I could join my romantic interest for a week or two in wine country."
"I have. I feel as though I'm slightly past the age where one can use the term 'boyfriend'. You might still be able to get away with it, though." Hannibal likes this side of Will. The slightly sarcastic side. "Good, it's settled then. I'll talk to your employer so you can get the time off."
"I really probably shouldn't use it, either. I feel llike after you pass thirty-five it's not really acceptable. And don't worry about it, I'll save you the trouble." He smoothes his hands over the front of Hannibal's jacket, then rests his elbows on the counter behind him. "Hey, I was wondering if I could get some time off to go to wine country."
Will looks delectable like that, the way his shirt pulls against his chest. Hannibal leans with him, bracing his palms against the counter. "I suppose, if you have good reason to go, I could let you."
"I need to take some mental health days. As a psychiatrist I figured you'd understand." Will arches an eyebrow. "Also, the man I'm seeing isn't really the sort of guy you want to get on the wrong side of."
Hannibal laughs, a low chuckle in the back of his throat, and presses a kiss to that arched eyebrow. "Then I suppose I'll have to let you have your mental health days. Reluctantly."
Will just continues to watch Hannibal, perfectly content to be trapped between the edge of the counter and Hannibal's body. "So. First vacation together. That's a big deal, I've heard."
"I suppose it is, then. And I'm happy it's a step you're ready to take with me. I think it will be good for the two of us to have time away from the madness that happens here."
"In my dreams, Abigail followed me all the way to Italy. I don't think wine country is going to stop her." But it will be nice. Maybe it will offer him more distraction, get his mind on better things. "You can try and turn me into a wine snob."
Hannibal's mood and expression sombre in sympathy, "You're still seeing her, then. I'm sorry to hear that. I wish there was something I could do to clear her from your mind."
Will shrugs one shoulder. He leans in, cheek resting on Hannibal's shoulder, nose pressed to Hannibal's neck. "She'll go when I don't need her anymore."
His fingers automatically tangle into Will's hair and tug gently, making himself solid and present for Will. "Why do you need her? What does she give you, by being here."
"I haven't figured it out yet." He exhales, letting the weariness go. "For a long time she was the only thing that made sense, even when she wasn't really there. My voice of reason."
"Is that not what I'm meant to be? Your rudder?" Hannibal lets Will relax against him, taking his weight, supporting him with his body if he can't do so emotionally.
"You're not very good at it." Will doesn't care if he's being blunt. He always is with Hannibal. "It's easier to talk to someone who isn't you."
"No, I suppose not. I admit my bias will always have me trying to steer you back towards me, in the end."
"It's ... She says all the things to me that I can't admit to myself. Or makes me think about them. I think when she left in the dreams, it was because I was ready to stop denying. I'm not there yet."
Perhaps he isn't doing such a good job of helping Will as he had initially thought. Which is a shame, as he genuinely does want to help Will here, as opposed to his self in their dreams that seemed only interested in satisfying his own curiosity. "What are you still trying to deny, Will?"
"I don't know. I don't ... " He stands up, not wanting to seem like a petulant child pouting on someone. "It's three realities blurring together. This one, the dream one, and whatever secondary reality dream me seems to exist in. I don't know how to filter it all."
"I think some time away from everything will do you some good. A few days where you don't need to think so much." Hannibal steps up behind him, running a hand up his back to curve over his shoulder, gently soothing. "You could let me take care of you."
Will scoffs. That bleedover, the dream part of him finds that beyond amusing. He wants to make a joke about just how Hannibal takes care of him, but he doesn't. Because that's not this Hannibal. Yet. Or maybe never. "I don't think I have a choice in the matter."