A Shot In The Dark

"You're up early, mano meilė," Hannibal muttered, stepping into the kitchen and making his way over to the coffee machine that Will had long ago given up trying to make work.

"Couldn't sleep," Will answered from where he stood at the stove making the omelets that Hannibal had taught him to make when they had first started dating. "You know that this kind of stuff makes me nervous, Hannibal." Will glanced up from his work and gave a small smile as he watched Hannibal go about extracting coffee from the contraption from the 1800's that was far more complicated than it needed to be.

"There's nothing to be nervous about," Hannibal assured gently. "It's no different than any other year."

"We have some new rookie that barely passed his POST-certification. Not sure how I feel about him going up against your gang yet. He's a hot head, trigger happy."

"Maybe he should join my side. I could always-"

"No," Will said firmly with a shake of his head. "Stop trying to take my officers from me."

Will placed the second and finished omelet on a plate and turned off the burner. He wandered his way over to Hannibal and wrapped his arms around the older man's waist, kissing just below Hannibal's ear. A smile pulled at the older man's lips and he turned just enough to place a soft kiss to his husband's lips.

"It's our anniversary," Will announced, letting Hannibal go and moving to stand beside the man to watch him work. Will leaned against the counter, his chin in his hand. "Was there something you wanted to do tonight?"

"It can't possibly be our anniversary," Hannibal teased lightly. "I remember that being last year."

Will snorted with a roll of his eyes and lightly hit Hannibal's arm. Hannibal passed Will a steaming cup and Will took it, inhaling deeply before carefully sipping on it. "Two years being chained to your ass and you don't have anything planned?" Will asked between drinks. Hannibal smiled as he added cream to his own cup. "You celebrated the first time you captured me and held me hostage for a week. I figured our marriage would be just as, if not more so, important than how we met."

"I'm sure I can come up with something if you're that desperate to celebrate," Hannibal once more teased, pressing a gentle kiss to Will's forehead before taking a step back, allowing his hand to take Will's face. His thumb traced over a deep scar down the side of Will's cheek, one that still gave Will troubles with pain now and then. Hannibal sighed with a hurt half smile and leaned over, pressing yet another apologetic kiss to it.

"Stop that, will ya?" Will grumbled, pushing past Hannibal and over to where their plates were. "You know I don't blame you for it. I know you had to show your old man you could take over the family business. I don't hold it against you."

"The nerve damage-"

"Of course there was going to be fucking nerve damage." Will gave a laugh and held out one of the plates to Hannibal who took it slowly. "You stabbed my own hunting knife through my cheek. What did you expect to happen?" Will located two forks and passed one to Hannibal before cutting into his breakfast and shoving a rather unceremoniously large bite into his mouth, earning him a look of dislike from Hannibal at the rudeness of it. Will simply grinned through his mouthful, knowing it would piss Hannibal off more. "You're the one who went to medical school, may I remind you." The words were muffled through the mouthful. "You knew exactly what it was going to do to me."

Hannibal frowned as he dug into his breakfast, his bite much more proportionate than Will's had been. He said nothing as he ate and eventually Will sighed, causing Hannibal to look up at the young man with cinnamon curls that hadn't been brushed yet and sat unruly on top of his head.

Will stepped closer, a hand reaching out to snatch up Hannibal's tie, pulling it from his waistcoat. Will tugged on it and kissed Hannibal, sighing into the touch. "Stop being so moody," Will whispered against Hannibal's mouth before pressing another kiss to Hannibal's lips. "Let's just get through today and then we can focus on each other completely tonight. Deal?"

"Of course, mano meilė," Hannibal whispered with a small nod. "Or we could let Uncle Jack handle the mess and," -Will let out a small squeak as Hannibal wrapped his arms around Will and picked him up from the kitchen floor- "I can take you back to bed."

Will gave a small hum and a nod in approval, legs circled around Hannibal's middle and arms around Hannibal's shoulders. "We have an hour or two before we need to split up," he whispered, peppering kisses across Hannibal's cheeks. "We could get a round or two in before then."

"Don't make our intimacy sound like a boxing match, William," Hannibal scolded, carrying the boy from the kitchen, food and coffee left to cool, forgotten. "I already get enough grief when you quote the Godfather at me."

"It was your fault for wearing a pinstripe suit and inviting your goons into our house," Will shot back with a smile, nipping at Hannibal's jaw as he was supported up the stairs and towards their bedroom. "I told you that we don't bring work home."

"It was one time."

"Only don't tell me that you're innocent. Because it insults my intelligence and it makes me very angry."

Hannibal rolled his eyes at the shoddy Italian accent, but chuckled lightly. "Don't quote that movie when I'm about to make love to you."

"Oh, is that what we're doing?" Will taunted, nuzzling his nose against Hannibal's. "Then we might only be able to go once. I want you to take your time with me."

"Don't I always?"

***

"Look who got some," Beverly teased as Will stepped into his office. Will shot the woman who sat on his desk a sharp look, but she just gave him a toothy smile in return. "Will we ever get to meet your husband?"

"Off the desk, Bev," Will muttered, pulling his jacket from his shoulders to hang up on his coat stand.

"We don't even know his name!" Beverly tried once more, hoping from the desk and reaching out to straighten Will's black tie. "He never comes to the Halloween or Christmas parties. He's never here for the Fourth of July and I am not buying your bullshit about him being from another country."

"But he is from another country," Will argued, pushing the woman's hands from his tie that Hannibal had already straightened for him. "Holidays aren't really his thing."

"You don't even have a picture of him in here."

"Do you have your reports for me?" Will questioned, trying to change the subject as he sat begins his desk, straightening his uniform slightly, trying to make the uncomfortable fabric more forgiving.

"On your desk," Beverly answered. "And I've been bothering Zeller about getting you the reports on equipment upkeep, but he's slacking, as usual."

"And Price?"

"Still on that stakeout from yesterday. Been watching that warehouse like his life depends on it." Beverly gave a snort of laughter. "He's so cute. No updates from him."

"Great." Will nodded and looked over his desk for a moment in silence before looking back up at his friend. "How could you tell?" Will finally asked back and Beverly gave a smug smile and a tip of her head, arms folding over her chest, her uniform looking just as stiff as Will's felt. "I don't want to know."

"You glow, if you must know. Look happier." Beverly leaned back up against his desk. "Aren't quite as big of a hard ass."

"I am not a hard ass," Will shot back, brows furrowed, a frown in his lips.

"You run this department like the marines. You're a hard ass."

"I'm going to write your ass up if ya don't get back to work," Will warned, though he gave a smile at Beverly's bright and crooked one. She gave a nod and turned towards the door. "Was there a reason you were in here? Other than trying to find out who my husband is, which is absolutely none of your business."

Beverly looked over her shoulder with the same dazzling smile. "Nope. We'll keep prying until we finally meet him."

"That's highly inappropriate."

"Then invite him to the company dinner tonight." Beverly turned back with a shrug. "I promise we'll leave you alone about it if you do."

Will bit his bottom lip in thought, trying to picture the department's reaction when the Chesapeake Syndicate Mob Boss Hannibal Lecter stepped into a poorly funded company party full of CPD officers on the police chief's arm. Will shook his head.

"No. Not happening," Will answered. Beverly opened her mouth, but Will quickly spoke up to keep her quiet. "It's our anniversary and I am not spending it in the middle of a company party where Alana and Margot are going to get drunk and make out while Freddie strips for the rookies to get information for her blog. No thank you. Not again."

"Your anniversary?" Beverly gave a laugh. "I'll have to let the boys know."

Will's eyes widened and his heart sank. "If I find lingerie on my desk again, you three are out of a job."

"Did your hubby like it though?"

"Get the fuck out of my office!" Will snatched up a stack of sticky notes and threw them at Beverly who gave a laugh, jumping out of the way. Will laughed and rolled his eyes as Beverly made her way to the office, sticking out her tongue at him like a child. "What a pain in the ass," Will grumbled as he went to work looking over the different stacks of paperwork on his desk to start organizing it. There was a knock at his door and Will glanced up to find Jack standing in the doorway. Will tipped his head to the side with a deep breath. "Well?"

"Price said that the drop has been confirmed. If we're quick about it, we can get rid of those two timers for the boss," Jack answered with a small shrug.

Will nodded. Their set up wasn't a horrible one. In fact, it was quite beneficial. Every now and again when Hannibal had some unruly or unneeded personals in his numbers Will would help clean them out. It made for less bloodshed and issues. Hannibal was able to keep his work further under the table with the snitches behind bars and Will was able to keep his high ups off his back by giving them enough of Hannibal's gang to keep them satisfied without his husband ending up behind bars.

Today was just another one of those days. Another one of those moments that dear Uncle Jack helped choreograph. Jack had been working for Hannibal's family for years, but he was good enough at his job as a police informant that the law turned a blind eye to his work. It was useful when either Will or Hannibal found themselves in a tight spot. Jack could talk his way out of anything and was excellent at getting results when they were needed, though sometimes Will didn't much care for the methods in which Jack went about getting said results, so he thought it better not to ask.

"Let me gather up the units then. We'll head out and be there for the drop," Will said, getting to his feet and reaching for his duty belt to strap around his waist.

***

Hannibal glanced around the warehouse, taking in all of the men behind Will. It was a clever set up. Selling guns to Hannibal's men. All men that Hannibal wouldn't be upset to lose. Men that either weren't cut out for the job or men that were more trouble than they were worth. Tobias was one he absolutely wouldn't be sad to see with a bullet in his head, but he did his best to refrain from getting his hands dirty for Will's sake.

Hannibal had no qualms with pulling the trigger himself, enjoyed the rush even, but Will was delicate. Will would force him into one of the guest rooms for weeks and eat TV dinners instead of anything Hannibal made. He would play petty games of leaving dirty laundry around and dishes in the sink and wouldn't take the garbage out. He had also gone so far as to cut up one of Hannibal's most expensive Armani suits and hung it back up in the closet for Hannibal to find. As soon as Hannibal apologized, he was welcomed back with open arms, but sometimes even Hannibal found it difficult to fight his pride. Sometimes business was just business and a little spilt blood was needed.

Will had changed from the uniform he had left the house with and was in a beautifully tailored suit. One that Hannibal had never seen before. It wasn't often that Will had clothing that Hannibal hadn't personally bought, but with how it fitted the man, Hannibal knew he would be seeing the bill sooner rather than later. He couldn't help but be curious if it was meant to be a surprise for their anniversary or not.

The deep blue of it made his knees go weak as he stepped up to several large wooden crates that were covered with a thick canvas tarp. Hannibal stopped and looked over his husband who pulled off darkness so beautifully, it was a shame that he held to the light. Will embodied shadows with such strength that Hannibal felt small beside him. Not lesser. Will would never do that to Hannibal, but smaller, yes.

Hannibal looked around the men that Will had beside him. New faces that Hannibal didn't recognize and he was curious which one was the trigger happy one that Will had mentioned that morning over breakfast.

The rest of Will's main unit must have been stationed outside, waiting for the say to move in. Hannibal had no sites on Katz, Price or Zeller, despite the fact that Uncle Jack had informed Hannibal that the three of them would be in attendance as well. All that truly mattered was that the men on either side didn't realize that Will and Hannibal were close and so far no one had. Their little plays back and forth seemed to be keeping the peace well enough.

Will's brows rose curiously as he regarded Hannibal's men as well, a hand reaching up to push one errant curl, that hadn't been gelled back, from his eyes, only to have it fall across his forehead once more. His glasses were gone and left in their place was steely, ice blue that Hannibal had bitten the frost of multiple times.

"Welcome," Will said in greeting, his Louisiana drawl so utterly pronounced that if they had been alone, Hannibal would have thrown Will to the ground and had his way with Will. "To business?" Will didn't wait for an answer and instead made a spectacle of pulling the tarp from the wooden crates.

It fluttered to the floor and Will stepped back, silent as he let Hannibal and his men inspect the goods. Hannibal's eyes rested on a CPD marking in the wood of one of the crates, nearly hidden behind the other. He stepped in line of it, to block the mistake from his men, sure that none of them had seen it. They weren't that incredibly bright if Hannibal were honest. If they were, they wouldn't be selling secrets to another family and letting themselves be caught by Hannibal.

Hannibal stared down at the collection, a huge smorgasbord of guns and ammunition. Black gun metal gleamed up at them. It would be a lie to say he wasn't impressed with the amount of cargo that Will had gotten away with obtaining for them from his superiors.

"Only the finest," Will continued on, motioning in turn to each weapon as he spoke. "Berettas, Smith & Wessons, Glocks, Kimbers, Colts, Heckler & Kochs and Remingtons. Not to mention all the bells and whistles to go along with them."

"Perfect," Hannibal said, a smile coming to his face as he met Will's eyes, sharp in their coldness. "Everything looks to be in place."

Will grinned, something smothering in his smile. "Excellent. And how will you be paying?"

"Do you take bullets?" Tobias' voice asked from beside Hannibal.

The thrust into action was nearly immediate. Will dropped down behind the crates as Tobias opened fire, the sound of his firearm loud and echoing in the warehouse. Before Hannibal could speak, not that any of these particular men would listen to his instructions, the others joined in as did the officers.

Tobias must have seen the police department branding on the box. Nothing else would have given Will away. Everything had been put together flawlessly in every other aspect, Jack had made absolutely certain of that. Just this small slip up and they were trapped in a hail of gunfire.

Hannibal pulled his handgun from the shoulder holster under his suit coat and made his way the short distance to a pillar, using it for cover. His hand pulled back the slide, it clicking into place and he glanced around the metal shield to hear a loud ding. The metal just above his head dented from the impact of a bullet and Hannibal's eyes trained to a younger looking man with a cocky smile on his face. Hannibal was more than certain that he was the trigger happy rookie.

Hannibal inhaled deeply, aimed and pulled the trigger. The gun jumped comfortably in his hand, bullet hitting exactly where it was meant to go. Right into the kid's body armor. His ribs were probably fractured with the way the kid doubled over, but he wouldn't die.

Hannibal jumped back behind the pillar in surprise as the kid straightened up with another extremely accurate shot, the ding off the pillar ringing above the other shots in the room. Strong kid. If Hannibal could just get him off his feet, he could deal with the mess that Tobias had so ungraciously begun.

Hannibal took aim once more, firing the gun. The gun jumped again, recoil tamed in his grip. It was a good shot, a great shot, a perfect shot, but one that Hannibal desperately wished he could pull back the moment a dark blue figure moved.

Hannibal could only watch with wide eyes as Will's body tackled the kid to the ground, the bullet not hitting it's mark, but hitting something. Will's body curled up on the ground and there was a moan of pain, one that Hannibal could pull out of anywhere.

"Christ," he muttered under his breath, hiding his body behind the pillar once more. He closed his eyes and licked his lips. "I'm never going to hear the end of this."

A body hit the ground beside Hannibal, Tobias' dark eyes lifeless as they stared up at Hannibal. Good riddance to the man, especially since he was the reason that Hannibal would be in trouble when he got home.

***

"Damn it," Brian's voice said somewhere behind Will. Will pushed himself up on his good arm, hand slick and hot with blood and slipping across the warehouse floor. His left arm throbbed horridly, the pain nearly blinding. He glanced over to where Zeller was now kneeling down beside Beverly who was laying out on the warehouse floor. "He got away."

"Again?" Beverly groaned, her hand clutching tightly to her leg. "How the hell?"

A pained moan pulled Will's attention away from Beverly and to where Matthew Brown, the new kid, lay curled up in a ball. Will rolled his eyes. "I told you to leave Lecter alone," Will muttered to the kid who simply shook his head, the moan continuing on. "I told you I would handle him."

"I just thought-"

"I know what you thought," Will interrupted, catching sight of Price wandering into sight from where he had helped Beverly to her feet. Zeller had a firm grip around her waist as he limped towards the exit where Will knew there were medics waiting for the all clear to enter the warehouse to go to work. "Price, help me get him out. He got one in the vest."

The older man winced with a sharp breath through his teeth as he stepped over. "How's your breathing?"

"Can't breathe," Matthew gasped out through his moans.

"You're speaking fine," Price chuckled, reaching down to take Matthew's arm. "Probably a few bruised ribs. Let's get you out to get looked over." He helped Matthew up and to his feet, Matthew hunched over. "You good Boss?"

"Fine," Will answered, doing his best to ignore the hot stickiness that was running down his arm and onto his hand. He pushed himself to his feet and his hand took up his arm again in some hope that the added pressure would help relieve some of the pulsing pain.

Will followed carefully behind Price and Matthew's slow movements and once out into the mid noon air, he wandered over to where Beverly was being looked over in the back of an ambulance. She was taking a rather decent size piece of gauze and pressed it over her leg with a small grimace that turned into a bright smile as Will wandered over.

"Hey, hot shot," she said in a sing-song voice, waving away the medic who was just trying to do his job. Her eyes landed on where his hand was clutching to his arm and her smile fell. "Someone get you too?"

"Lecter," Will muttered, nodding at the medic to look. Will pulled his suit coat off carefully and sighed at the rip in the fabric. "Shit." There was something a bit depressing in the fact that the suit was ruined. Will really had tried hard to do something special for Hannibal and it had come back to bite him in the ass. He hopped up onto the ambulance beside Beverly and began working on the buttons on his shirt.

"I might need to go to HR if you keep-"

"Don't even start, Bev," Will warned with a small chuckle, doing his best to ignore the red that was staining each of the buttons down his front. "Your leg-"

"Fine." Beverly nudged Will with her elbow. "Lecter, huh? Don't tell the higher ups, but he's pretty hot."

Will did his best to make his eye roll as sarcastic as he could and it must have passed because Beverly laughed. Will pulled his shirt fully off, and did his best to ignore the way his arm was being cleaned and prodded.

"It's just a flesh wound, but you need some stitches done," the young man said, keeping some gauze pressed to Will's arm.

"Great," Will muttered, glancing around the back of the ambulance. He was more than well aware of everything held within the vehicle, especially after being stabbed back in New Orleans before he was transferred to Chesapeake. "Let's get it done. I have a meeting in about half an hour."

"A meeting?" Beverly snickered. "You're insane. I would go home and sleep the rest of the day away."

"Don't want to go home at the moment," Will grumbled without further explanation. Home was the last place where Will wanted to be. Home with the man who had shot him. They were going to have words. Hannibal knew better than to pull his gun when it involved Will's team.

"Here?" the medic asked, worry lacing his voice and calling Will's attention to him. Will didn't recognize the kid but seemed to recall Price speaking about some new hires. This must have been one of them. "It's not protocol to perform-"

"I'm not going to snitch on you," Will said with a small laugh. "Just stitch me up."

The young man licked his lips and shook his head. "I've never had to stitch someone up before. I-I don't think-"

"There's not much you could do to him," Beverly interrupted teasingly. "He's the luckiest bitch I know. Gets out of everything with scrapes and bruises. You can practice on him.

"I don't really feel comfortable doing that," the kid said. He glanced between the two officers who both had brows raised in disbelief. "You need to go to the ER too, miss. You two can go together."

Will was about to argue back, but stopped at the sight of Price. "Jimmy!" he called, causing the man to begrudgingly come over to the ambulance. "How's Brown?"

"That's not what you want," Jimmy grumbled with a deep sigh, folding his arms over his chest. "Out with it."

"I need stitches," he replied. "Come do them."

"No," Price argued with a shake of his head. "If you get infected or something I am not being held accountable by your insurance."

Will nearly laughed at the idea of his insurance. It came with his own personal physician and a gun with a nearly unlimited amount of money to take care of anything he could possibly need. Price wouldn't let such a thing happen though. Price knew exactly what he was doing medically and had Hannibal's approval, which Will had learned was extremely difficult to achieve.

"Just go to the ER," Price pressed with a shrug. "I'm not-"

"He can't go to the ER," Beverly cut in with her brilliant and crooked smile. "He has a hot date with his mysterious husband that he can't miss."

"No," Will said quickly. "I have a lunch meeting I'm late for. Price, come stitch me up."

"Why me?" Price groaned as he stepped closer and pushed himself up into the vehicle to obtain the items that he needed, causing the other medic to step out of the way. "A date isn't worth-"

"I don't have a date," Will corrected once more. "I doubt I will ever have a date again."

Will could see the question playing across Beverly's face but before she could ask, Price continued on in his complaining.

"It's not protocol to do this at a scene, Will."

"Has that ever stopped you before?" Will asked.

Price didn't answer, simply dropped back down beside Will with the tools needed set aside so he could look over Will's arm. Will removed the gauze and Price sighed as he pulled on blue gloves. Will ignored the way that Price began the same process that the kid had earlier, poking and prodding at his arm before getting to work.

"Do you want it numbed?" Price asked.

"I don't have time, Price," Will said. "Please just get it taken care of. I have shit to do."

"You're so impatient," Beverly said with a roll of her eyes. "Your hubby will still be home when you get there."

"That's what I'm afraid of." Will jumped with a hiss at a sharp prick in his arm and he shot Price a dark look. "Damn it, Price. Watch it!"

"Stop being such a baby," Price said with a small laugh as he looked over Will's arm. "It just grazed you."

"Fuck you," Will hissed through his teeth, hand clutching tightly to the knee of his dress pants. His other hand held his ruined button up and suit coat. He didn't often like to show off, but he had been rather impressed with himself and the fact that he had gone about getting a suit on his own without Hannibal's help. He also thought that Hannibal would have enjoyed the jab at how Hannibal wore absolutely ridiculous suits as well.

It had cost a fortune and Will was nearly certain that he was in for a scolding when he got home of having been so careless with money, careless enough to ruin something as stupid as a suit. But Hannibal was who he had decided to marry, it came with the territory.

"Graze my ass."

"Awe, is poor Chief Graham in pain?" Beverly teased, lifting up the gauze from her leg for a moment to look over the nick she had received. It looked more like she had caught her leg on something rather than having been shot. "Suck it up, buttercup."

Will shot her a dark look, but it quickly melted into a smile with a small laugh. "Where's Zeller?" Will gasped at a sharp pain in his bicep and looked back at Jimmy who avoided Will's glare.

"Body duty," Beverly answered, nodding to where a stretcher was being wheeled out with a dark body bag on it, Zeller pushing it.

"How'd the bastard not get hit?" Price asked back. "It was like Michael Bay had decided to direct the Godfather or something."

Will snorted at the comment and shook his head. "You didn't get hit either," he pointed out, jumping slightly at a more painful prick of a needle. "Watch it."

"I could have numbed it first," Price pointed out boredly. "But no, you had to be manly."

"Shut up," Beverly threw out with a laugh. "You can't even handle a papercut without lidocaine."

Price gave an indignant huff. "That's not entirely-"

"She's not wrong," Zeller said as he stepped over to the small group. He reached out and purposefully patted Will on the shoulder causing Will to gasp in pain. "Neither of you have any pain tolerance."

"I swear to fucking Christ, Zeller," Will groaned through his teeth. "I am going to need your resignation when we get back to the office."

"Oh, come on chief." Zeller rolled his eyes, trying to pat the same shoulder again, but Price caught the man's hand and pushed him away so that he could keep working on Will. "How many people get shot by Lecter and live?"

Will lifted a hand up to his face and traced the scar over his forehead, then down his cheek with a deep breath before his hand dropped to his shoulder to feel out another long ago bullet wound from his now husband. He didn't dare drop his hand lower.

"Yeah, what a great story," Price added on. "You could tell your kids it someday."

"Kids?" Will asked back with a shake of his head. "My husband is enough of a child. I don't need any children."

"Happy anniversary by the way," Zeller said with a wicked grin.

Will quickly shot a look at Beverly who shrugged innocently. "I had to give them something. They wanted to break into your file and figure out where you lived."

"If I find out that any of the three of you are sneaking around my house, I will press charges and drag you through the court process with extreme prejudice," Will warned harshly. "So help me God, if I have to install a new security system I am going to-"

"You have a gun," Beverly teased. "I don't think any of us would want to come after you with how good of a shot you are."

"It's not me you need to be worried about," Will muttered under his breath, though it obviously wasn't quiet enough.

"Oh," Price said with a knowing nod as he cut the last suture. "So your husband is childish, but good with a gun?"

"Not only good with an actual gun," Beverly quickly jested, causing Will's cheeks to go pink and he bit his tongue. "He was glowing this morning."

"Been a while since I've had fun with that kind of a-"

"That's more than enough!" Will called, interrupting Zeller. "Price, hurry up. I was supposed to have a lunch meeting that I'm late to."

"I think they would understand the fact that you were shot," Price said as he wrapped up the stitches.

"You'd be surprised," Will said with a deep breath. "Besides, Bev needs help too."

"It didn't hit anything major," Beverly said with a shrug and a smile on her face. "With the shitty pain I deal with once a month, this is nothing."

"Bev," Zeller groaned.

"Until you can take a baseball bat to the gut repeatedly for five days in a row, I don't want to hear it." Beverly gently nudged Will with a small smile. "Maybe you should call your hubby and let him know you're ok."

"I am sure he is more than well aware of what kind of state I'm in." Before anyone could ask for clarification, Will lowered himself from the back of the open ambulance and started pulling his dress shirt back on, the white stained crimson and torn across his arm. "I expect your reports on this on my desk by the end of the week," Will said, pulling on his suit coat and turning away from the group. "Have a good afternoon you guys. Don't drink too much tonight."

"Afternoon," the three echoed back to him.

***

Will rubbed at his tired eyes as he parked his car outside of his house. His arm was stiff and sore and he hoped that the medicine that he had taken before driving home would kick in sooner rather than later.

He climbed from his car and gathered up his uniform that he hadn't much felt like changing back into. He passed by Hannibal's car in the driveway and he inhaled deeply, trying to keep his annoyance at bay.

Hannibal was absolutely the last person he wanted to see at the moment. The absolute last person he wanted to speak to or have any interaction with. All that Will wanted was to go take a shower to get the ridiculous amount of gel from his hair and drink whiskey until he fell asleep and woke up with a hangover.

Will stepped into the house and closed the door, stopping at the silence in the house. The lights were on in the study so Hannibal was home, but there wasn't any music playing like there normally was when Will returned home from work. No Bach or Vivaldi or Locatelli. And there was no scent wafting out from the kitchen. No fresh herbs or spices. No wine being used to braise whatever cuts of meat Hannibal had procured, no butter or salt and pepper. The house felt oddly cold.

Will made his way to the study to find Hannibal stretched out across the settee with a book in hand and a glass of wine in the other. His suit had been replaced into something a bit more casual, much to Will's surprise. Leather jacket over a black dress shirt and a pair of dark washed jeans over work boots.

"How was your day at work, mano meilė?" Hannibal questioned, closing his book and sitting up, feet firmly on the ground. He set his wine aside and rose to his feet, merlot red eyes flickering up to Will with all the innocence in the world in them.

Will's eyes widened and his blood rushed in his ears, the anger he had been trying to hold at bay manifesting instantaneously. "You fucking shot me! That was my day at work!" The uniform was thrown from Will's hands and to the ground. "How was my day at work? Are you fucking kidding me, Hannibal?"

"Forgive me," Hannibal answered simply, straightening his jacket and tipping his head to the side as he took in Will's ruined, but still wonderfully cut suit in a blue so devastatingly deep that it made the man's eyes glow. "Happy anniversary."

Will scoffed, hand moving naturally and pulling his gun from the holster on his hip. He aimed it at Hannibal, finger on the trigger, safety off. Hannibal's brows rose in curiosity. "Happy anniversary," Will repeated through his teeth. "Fucking happy anniversary. Thought I'd get something a bit more romantic than stitches as a gift."

"If you intend to shoot me Will, I suggest you make quick work of it. We have a flight to catch and the pilot will not be happy if I call and delay it once more," Hannibal stated, unperturbed by the loaded weapon in his face. Instead, Hannibal simply picked up his wine glass and finished off what was left in it before moving past Will. He paused beside the frozen Will and looked over his husband for a moment. "You look even more handsome all roughed up."

"I hope you know that you're paying for this suit. A suit you ruined, by the way," Will grumbled, lowering the gun back to his side.

"I'm paying for it now."

Will looked over at Hannibal who had a gentle smile teasing across his lips. Will frowned, a bitterness over his tongue. "Fuck you."

"Hmmm," Hannibal hummed with a thoughtful nod. "I fully intend on something like that occurring, but I must once more impress upon you our time constraint. We have enough time for you to clean up if you would like."

"Hannibal, I am not about to go-"

"I've already packed your things and had it approved with Bedelia," Hannibal interrupted calmly, a hand reaching out to gently caress Will's cheek. "Hurry now, mano meilė. We don't have all night."

"I'm pissed at you!" Will shouted, pushing Hannibal's hand away from his face. "If you think that I'm going to run off with you to some unknown-"

"You don't have to want to come or even want to speak to me, but you're going to be on that plane one way or another, William," Hannibal informed matter-of-factly. Will fell silent, blinking as he looked over Hannibal, unsure how to take the threat in Hannibal's words. Sometimes the warnings held weight and other times they didn't and Will was never certain on how to approach them and maybe that was just how Hannibal liked it to be. "As you so eloquently pointed it out today, I did go to medical school."

"You wouldn't fucking dare," Will got out, breath stolen from him. "You promised you would never drug me a-"

"Would we like to test that theory or would you rather be a good little boy and obey me?"

Will frowned, chest tight as he clicked the safety back on his gun and shoved it roughly back into his holster.

"Manipulative bastard," Will hissed, kicking his things across the floor to make more of a mess just to piss off Hannibal that much more.

He knew that Hannibal would never break a promise, especially not one like that, but he also wouldn't put it past Hannibal for the man to have some plan of how to get Will onto that plane. Even if it involved Hannibal picking Will up and throwing Will over his shoulder like a sack of flour, kicking and screaming, Will was going to end up on that plane so he might as well obey. The fight wouldn't be pretty. "You pampering me isn't going to make me hate you any less, you know."

"Of course. I wouldn't expect anything less from you."

Will closed his eyes with a deep breath through his nose. He let his eyes open and he leaned over, pressing a chaste kiss to Hannibal's cheek before turning from the study to head upstairs to their room.

"Do I get to know-"

"No," Hannibal answered from somewhere behind Will as Will made his way up the stairs.

"A hint?"

"No."

"More romantic than stitches?" Will questioned, glancing over his shoulder and down the stairs to where Hannibal still stood at the foot of them.

His crooked teeth sparkled at his smile. "More romantic than stitches, I promise," Hannibal assured with a nod.

***

It had taken Will a long time to settle into Hannibal's money. Hannibal had been slow with it, knowing exactly how a man like Will, who had grown up with hardly anything to his name, despised charity. The whiskeys and the dinners had been easier to suck Will into. Slowly the house and the clothes had come along. Next was the car and the boat. The boat had nearly gotten their engagement broken off, but it was nothing compared to the discomfort that always came from Will whenever they got onto Hannibal's private plane.

Flying wasn't the issue. Will traveled occasionally for work and Hannibal had never heard anything about Will having panic attacks on planes. It was the fact that there was an open bar, couches to rest out on, a full dining area and even a bedroom for longer flights that bothered Will. It was the fact that the pilot of the plane was a family friend and employee of Hannibal's. It was the reality that Hannibal owned his own plane. That was the problem.

And the fact that Will was holding onto his grudge with tooth and nail didn't help the situation in the slightest. Will was cranky when it came to a common cold. This was an entirely separate level of upset that Hannibal didn't often have to navigate, but found it best to just give Will his space and Hannibal had been more than ready to offer the man the space until Will pulled off his jacket and lied himself out on the couch, allowing the wrappings of their altercation to be seen.

Hannibal waited for the plane to take off and an hour to slip by before he finally got to his feet and moved over to Will, who had his other arm draped over his eyes to hide away from the cabin lights. His breathing was deep and slow, but nowhere near sleep. Hannibal knew that pattern like the back of his hand.

He knelt down beside the couch and didn't miss the way Will's lips tipped into a frown. "I don't want to talk to you," he muttered.

"You don't have to," Hannibal assured gently, brushing wonderfully disobedient curls behind Will's ear. "I just want to take a look at your stitches."

"Price did them. You've approved his work before. They're fine."

"May I?"

Will groaned and tipped his head to the side, one of his eyes still hidden by the back of his hand, the other annoyed as it looked over Hannibal. "Will it get you to leave me alone?"

"Yes, mano meilė," Hannibal answered softly. "Then you can rest. We have a good eleven more hours before we land."

"Where the hell are you taking me?" Will asked, unable to keep a small smile from covering his face. Hannibal shook his head, hands reaching out to maneuver Will's arm into the position he needed to undo the wrapping around it. Will's eyes slid closed and he let Hannibal work. "Just a hint?"

Hannibal let himself smile as he pulled the gauze from Will's arm and looked over the sutures there that were angry and swollen, but looking professionally done. If anyone was going to touch his husband, Hannibal preferred it to be Jimmy Price. The man knew had proven time and time again that he knew what he was doing when it came to medical care.

"Please?" Will asked again.

Will was always so demanding. He couldn't stand surprises and Hannibal had learned that rather quickly. He had to give Will a small something or other or the man would come to resent whatever it was that Hannibal had planned.

"A picnic," Hannibal provided as his fingers carefully touched the skin around the stitches. "You need some disinfectant. I'll be back in a moment."

Will hissed sharply, a wince taking over his features, but it evened out with a deep inhale. "You're taking me thousands of miles from home to go on a picnic?"

Hannibal rose to his feet and wandered his way over to some storage above the dining area, digging through it until he located his med kit.

"Does that bother you?" he questioned as he dug through the kit.

"It's not like it's the middle of winter. We could have just gone out to the beach or the state park. We didn't-"

"I won't be so frivolous next year," Hannibal cut in with a tight smile thrown in Will's direction. He pulled a small tube from the bag and made his way back to Will, kneeling down and once more taking up Will's arm. Will closed his eyes with a hurt moan at Hannibal's careful touches as ointment was gently spread over the stitching. A kiss was pressed to Will's shoulder before Hannibal began slowly wrapping up Will's arm again, the ointment set on the floor to be forgotten. "Forgive me." Hannibal glanced up to see guilt twist Will's face and Will let out one of those annoyed sighs that meant that Will's resolve was slowly breaking. He wouldn't stay angry much longer.

"Bastard," Will grumbled. "I hate when you do that."

"Do what?" Hannibal questioned back, tying off the wrapping.

Once Will was free, Will sat up and looked over Hannibal with furrowed brows and downturned lips. "Act like it's my fault that I never let you do anything fun."

"Have I ever said-"

"Stop," Will begged, leaning over, elbows on his knees and bent at the waist so his hands could shake out his curls. Instead of sitting up, he stayed there, face hidden in his hands. "You're not turning this on me. You don't get to play doctor and act all sweet and buy me expensive vacations and think that I'm just going to forgive you for what you did."

Hannibal inhaled deeply and settled himself into a more comfortable position than on his knees, back leaning up against the couch. He reached out carefully, a hand taking Will's forearm and gently caressing it. When Will didn't pull away, Hannibal added a bit more weight to the glide of his fingers up and down Will's skin.

"I didn't expect you to jump in front of the kid, Will," Hannibal explained softly. "I wasn't going to hurt-"

"You cracked three of his ribs and bruised his lungs," Will shot back.

"I didn't intend on killing him," Hannibal corrected lightly, hand still trailing over Will's soft skin, feeling the way the muscles in his arm shifted as his fingers once more carded through his curls.

"You know how quickly body armor integrity declines."

"Are you alright, mano meilė?" Hannibal asked into the plane, calling blue eyes to meet his gaze. "That's what I should have asked when you got home. Forgive me."

Will straightened up, the multitude of sharp answers clearly set in Will's jaw, but none of the bitterness came for Hannibal, much to Hannibal's surprise. "No. I'm not alright," he whispered. "None of my officers died, but..." Will trailed off with a groan.

"But?" Hannibal pushed, letting his hand slip into Will's, who tangled his fingers with Hannibal's without a fight. Will gave Hannibal's hand a small squeeze.

"What gave it away? None of your men should have known who I was. We've been setting that up for months."

"Maybe generic plastic bins from a retail store would be more preferable to items marked with Chesapeake Police Department on them," Hannibal offered out with a grin. Will groaned and rolled his eyes.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" A small laugh left Will. "I didn't even notice."

"I didn't think anyone else had either. I'm sorry, dear boy. It wasn't meant to go down like that."

"I was so worried you got hurt," Will blurted out, the words quick and worried, causing Hannibal's expression to change to one of surprise. "Of course Matthew Brown had to pick you out of everyone else."

"Trigger happy rookie?" Hannibal asked back. Will gave a nod and Hannibal added the name to the face in his memory palace. Someone to keep an eye on in the future as soon as he was mobile again. "You didn't jump in front of him to protect him, did you?" Will's brows rose and he quickly looked away from Hannibal, shaking his head.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Hannibal chuckled and pushed himself onto his knees and between both of Will's. He reached out, taking Will's cheeks into his hands and pulling Will to look at him. Those dazzling blue eyes danced with the wetness of phantom tears that would never fall, but that didn't make the sentiment any less real.

"You knocked him over because you thought he'd hurt me," Hannibal explained softly. Hannibal couldn't stop smiling as Will sarcastically rolled his eyes and snorted out laughter.

"You're being narcissistic again," he swiftly excused.

Hannibal hummed softly with a shake of his head. "Mano meilė," Hannibal whispered, hands gentle as they guided Will closer to him. "You devastatingly perfect little boy." Will's cheeks flushed a brilliant pink and Hannibal leaned closer, nose nuzzling at Will's. "Come here."

Will obeyed without question, lips meeting Hannibal's. Will's hands instantly tangled themselves up in Hannibal's ashy blond hair, pulling the criminal closer. He breathed out a sigh against Hannibal's lips, body fluttering at the soft touches of Hannibal's hands in his curls and at the nape of his neck.

"I hate having to play this game," Will muttered between their kisses, letting himself be pushed back and spread out on the couch, the weight of Hannibal pressing warm over the top of him. "Damocles' sword is a cruel psychological trick to play on a person. I don't want to keep putting you in harm's way just to appease my superiors."

"You do pay attention when I read to you," Hannibal mused, kissing Will deeply. Will moaned against the kiss, a leg wrapping around Hannibal's waist to pull the man closer still. Will nodded in answer, tugging lightly at Hannibal's hair. Hannibal broke the kiss and pressed another to Will's forehead. "Our lines of work are not without the sword of Damocles."

"Let Uncle Jack take over the family business," Will pleaded, the begging not the first time Hannibal had heard it. It was an argument Will made often and it was a solution to one of their issues, but that would only raise more and add more strain to Will's job, not to mention damage the Lecter name. "Or Mischa?"

"Mischa?" Hannibal asked, pushing himself up a little more to better look over Will's face. "I wouldn't dream of dragging my little sister into something like this. She's in deep enough as it is running our front. I couldn't possibly ask her to take more responsibility. If anything were to happen to her it would kill me."

Will sighed. "I know," he grumbled, a finger trailing down Hannibal's jaw. "She's not as delicate as you make her out to be, Hannibal. She could handle it."

"I don't doubt that, but it is not her place." Hannibal's tone was firm, but not unkind. "My father left it to me for a reason. I'm meant to protect her, not include her."

"Yeah," Will whispered defeatedly. "Silly me."

"You could always come run it with me," Hannibal said, the offer also not the first one made. Will always seemed taken aback by it though each time Hannibal brought it up. He looked over Hannibal's face curiously before shaking his head. "With you by my side, dear boy, we could bring the city to its knees. We could make that small piece of the world ours, exactly what we want it."

"You and I have very different ideas and wants when it comes to the world," Will reminded with a smile. "I picked my line of work for a reason too, you know."

"The thought had never occurred to me, William."

Will laughed and pushed at Hannibal's shoulder. He leaned up and stole a quick kiss from Hannibal's lips, the back of his hand tenderly skimming over Hannibal's cheek. "Do you remember how we met?" Will asked, head tipping to the side, eyes lost in thought.

Hannibal grimaced at the memory, but nodded in answer. "You had intel on where our front was located and I was supposed to pick you up, torture you until you told us who your informant was and then dispose of you."

"Do you remember what you called me when I explained how I figured it out?" Will pushed, fingers now tracing the cupid's bow of Hannibal's upper lip. "When I explained my empathy disorder to you."

"Cunning boy."

Will nodded, biting his bottom lip between his teeth. "Your shoes were terrifying to walk in, Hannibal. The demand from your father, the expectations, the punishment if you failed. I could never hold up that level of cruelty if the work demanded it. We wouldn't run the city. I would crumble it."

"Maybe I should let you crumble it."

"What?" Will gasped out in shock.

"It's my father's empire, not mine. I didn't want it. There was a reason I went to medical school. I didn't want to run an underground gambling, drug, weapon, union corruption and prostitution ring."

"Thank you for not running a prostitution ring anymore," Will muttered with a hint of dislike in his tone. "I hate the idea."

"Me too."

"So what, you want it to crumble so you can go legit and be a doctor?" Will gave a laugh at the idea, but his smile fell when Hannibal's face stayed blank. "Oh," he whispered. "That is what you want, isn't it?"

"Doesn't sound quite so bad, does it?" Hannibal leaned down and kissed Will once more. "I'd be out of harm's way and then if you got hurt at work, I can take care of you."

"You already take care of me."

"I shot you," Hannibal reminded teasingly.

"That's right." Will nodded, a hand tugging painfully at Hannibal's hair, but the man didn't argue. "I'm supposed to be mad at you."

"You're not doing a very good job."

"It's difficult when you kiss me. It makes me forgive you instantly."

"I'll have to remember that for future disagreements," Hannibal noted, causing Will to chuckle.

"You didn't already know?" Hannibal's brows tipped up in question. "Those five days tied to that chair in that basement were the absolute worst days of my life." Hannibal frowned at the explanation, a hand coming up to once more trace over the scarring down Will's cheek. "And I'm so sick for falling for you in those five days. The moment you kissed me I was yours. Those days were washed away in a second."

"I didn't- I couldn't..." Hannibal struggled for the right words and was met with an expectant smile. "I wouldn't let anything hurt you, cunning boy."

Will bit his bottom lip again and nodded, pulling Hannibal back to him. "Of course not. You'd just shoot me." Will laughed at the frown over Hannibal's lips, leaning up to try to kiss it away. "I thought I told you to stop being moody."

"So you did." Hannibal let out a deep breath, eyes looking over Will lovingly.

"Hannibal?" Will's call of his name was barely audible as a flush covered his cheeks at the absolutely animalistic glint in murky amber eyes. "It's still our anniversary."

"So it is."

"I meant to surprise you with that suit and dinner, but that didn't quite work out." Will laughed once more. "Was going to take you to Steinhilber's."

"I'm sure we can come up with something else to sate your hunger, Will." Hannibal pressed a kiss to Will's jaw and didn't miss the shiver that raced through the man trapped under him. "Is that what you're trying to tell me you want? You know English isn't my first language."

Will groaned. "You just want to hear me say it, you bastard."

"Maybe."

"What's the point of this plane having a bed if you aren't fucking me into the mattress, Hannibal?"

There was a growl from Hannibal and Will jumped at the speed in which he was dragged to his feet. Hannibal's hands snatched up Will's hips and pulled the man to him so he could kiss Will hungrily. Will moaned into the roughness of the touches and let Hannibal's hands guide him to the back cabin that Will usually avoided due to feeling like he would somehow make the value of the room drop by just stepping foot in it.

Will's knees hit the edge of the bed and he fell back onto it with a small gasp, a dull pain radiating up his arm. But he didn't have much of a chance to take note of it because Hannibal was straddling his hips. Will's hands were seized and pinned into the bed above his head, the pain mixing wonderfully with the fogginess of Hannibal's kiss.

A bite graced Will's pulse and Will couldn't hold back the groan even with the idea that the pilot might be able to hear them. But maybe that was exactly what Hannibal wanted. Hannibal had a habit of enjoying making Will embarrassed in public whenever he had the chance. It still hadn't ceased to amaze Will how utterly filthy Hannibal could be in the bedroom. For a man so tidy and composed and clean, his bedside manners were anything but. The first time Hannibal had begged Will to come all over his face, Will had nearly choked and then cried out in a strangled voice from the force of his orgasm.

"Hush, mano meilė," Hannibal instructed, breath hot against Will's neck before another unforgiving bite marked up Will's pale skin. "You're going to be heard if you aren't careful."

"That's exactly what you want," Will pointed out, eyes rolling back as the harshness of teeth was soothed away with a smoldering tongue and then cooled with a breath of air. "Hannibal..." Will whined, being given a few seconds to appreciate the rows of teeth and the sucking on his neck before Hannibal's hands released their grip on Will's wrists and began to pull at the hem of his t-shirt.

"Do you ever take this thing off?" Hannibal teased, hands working at Will's belt the moment that the fabric of Will's shirt wasn't blocking it any longer. It took a bit more time than Hannibal would have liked, having to pull Will's holster free from the leather and not just the leather free from the belt loops of Will's jeans.

"The moment you eat McDonald's with me is the moment I will stop carrying," Will answered, watching as Hannibal carefully placed the gun on the floor. Hannibal's eyes were dark as they met Will's again, but Will only smiled. "Hurry up. I want to be part of the mile high club."

"You're impossible," Hannibal hissed, motions not gentle in the slightest as he ripped the leather the rest of the way free and let it fall to the ground. "Crass and-"

"Shut up," Will ordered, free hands taking up Hannibal's leather jacket and pushing it from his shoulders. Will nearly laughed at the leather that graced either side of Hannibal's body from his shoulder holsters, both of which were loaded with their appropriate gun and magazines. "Oh, because you're any better than me."

"I think we're normally much more naked at home," Hannibal muttered as he worked the leather straps from his body and let it join Will's discarded weapon on the floor. Hannibal leaned over, pushing the hem of Will's shirt up higher, kissing along the large scar over Will's abdomen. It was another horrible gift that Hannibal had given to Will on the last day of their five day torture session when Will had finally spilled the truth before instructing Jack to take Will to the hospital. Before their first kiss.

Will sighed, fingers tangled back into Hannibal's ashy locks that he couldn't wait to see turn grey when they finally grew old together. Hannibal's lips, heavily-saturated with ardor, mapped out Will's toro and chest like they had a million times, every night that they were able to. Will pushed himself up enough that the fabric of his shirt was finally pulled from his body and tossed aside to be forgotten.

Will rolled his eyes as kiss after kiss was placed to the scar left in Will's shoulder from a bullet to the one across Will's forehead that was made with a circular saw and then an apologetic one to the bandaging over his bicep. The annoyance turned to a shudder at the observant way his husband regarded him. Hannibal always knew what made Will's heart pick up, made his eyebrows scrunch up in delight, what made the whimpering a constant pendulum swing.

Hannibal pushed himself back onto his knees and moved off of Will to begin working Will's shoes from his feet, both being dropped to the ground with dull thuds, before one sock met the same fate. The other was grasped, but Hannibal once more stopped, brows raised.

He sighed, pulling the knife from the lining of Will's sock, though there was a smile in those red eyes. Will watched as the item was added to the slowly growing pile of weapons on the floor and Will was curious if Hannibal would find the others that were still hidden on his body just as amusing.

A kiss was pressed to the arch of Will's foot when the other sock was removed and then slowly up to the hem of his jeans. Hannibal leaned back over and his hands worked on the button and zipper on Will's jeans, hands stopping when his wrist hit something hard in Will's pocket.

Will covered his mouth to keep from laughing at the incredulous tip of Hannibal's brows as Will's hand cuffs were pulled free from his pocket. Hannibal held them up, the cool silver metal dangling from his index finger.

"We play with these far too often, don't you think?" Hannibal teased and Will was grateful for the lightness of the situation.

Will laughed fully with a small nod. He was no stranger to the burn and his skin being rubbed raw from his own cuffs. In fact, he enjoyed the markings that were kept alive much longer than they probably normally would with the stiff cuffs of his uniform shirt rubbing against the wounds day in and day out.

They clinked as they made contact with the floor, spurring Hannibal back to work, discovering another knife in the waist line of Will's pants before the fabric was finally removed from Will's body, only causing Hannibal to roll his eyes, a gesture that Will didn't often see from the man.

"Honestly, William," Hannibal scolded lightly, a single finger trailing over the taser that was strapped to Will's thigh. "You're worse than me."

"I promise that's the last of it," Will assured, earning him a small smile from Hannibal.

"Then I better make something special of it."

Will's brow arched in question, but before he could get a word out, Hannibal's hand guided Will's leg up and over his shoulder. With no less grace than he did anything else, Hannibal's tongue trailed over Will's thigh and up and over the taser. Will groaned, head falling back onto the bed, hands clenching the silk duvet. Something tight pulled in his gut as Hannibal's teeth skimmed over his skin before tearing at the velcro that held the holster to Will.

"Hannibal," Will gasped out, only able to hear the way that the taser was met with the same fate that everything else had been. Kisses were placed up his inner thigh, the skin nipped at in some places. "I want to feel you."

"Patience is a virtue, dear boy."

"The plane's gonna land before you're finished at the rate you're going. Please!"

Hannibal sighed, but there was a fondness to the sound. Will's leg was lowered back to the bed and Will opened his eyes to watch Hannibal begin working at the buttons on his shirt. Will, impatient as ever, jumped to his knees and snatched up Hannibal's hips, dragging the man closer. Will pushed Hannibal's hands from his shirt and went to work at the buttons instead.

He didn't dare rip the shirt open, but he didn't have to be gentle. He had done that once upon a time and couldn't sit right for a week due to Hannibal's angry thrusts. Will hadn't honestly cared, but he wanted to enjoy this trip as much as he could and being unable to sit or walk wasn't going to help him in the slightest.

Will tugged the shirt free from where it was tucked into Hannibal's jeans and pushed it from Hannibal's body, mouth kissing over Hannibal's strong chest. Will's fingers went to Hannibal's jeans, pulling at them until they were open and he could force them down over Hannibal's thighs.

"Just a moment," Hannibal whispered, gently tugging at Will's curls to guide the man back.

"No," Will groaned with a shake of his head, kissing over Hannibal's heart. "No more just a moments, no more waiting. I want you now."

Hannibal sat at the edge of the bed, leaning over to pull at his own shoes, kicking them off when they had been untied. Hannibal guided his jeans off and to the floor and Will grinned as he looked over both of Hannibal's ankles.

"I knew you were packing more," Will shot at Hannibal, dropping himself to his knees on the ground to pull at the gun strapped to one of Hannibal's ankles. He pulled the smaller weapon free and looked over it. "Cute, Hannibal. Really cute."

"Paper weight."

Will snorted loudly and shook his head. "Of course." Will placed the gun and the freed holster aside, along with Hannibal's sock before he moved onto Hannibal's other ankle. He pulled the knife from Hannibal's sock, something they apparently had in common, and the sock was tossed to the floor. Will was about to add the knife to the pile, but stopped as he looked over the blade he recognized. He flipped it open with a deep breath and looked over the engraving on it. "You kept it."

"Of course I did," Hannibal said firmly with a nod. "It was an engagement present you got me. Why wouldn't I keep it?"

Will looked over the Italian he had had engraved into the blade, something he had thought was incredibly cheesy and stupid at the time and honestly still found them as such, but Hannibal hadn't seemed to mind them at all.

"Nella prima pagina del capitolo che è il giorno in cui ti ho incontrato per la prima volta, appaiono le parole, Qui inizia una nuova vita," Hannibal quoted softly, a hand reaching down to brush at Will's curls. "Here begins a new life."

"You're a sucker when it comes to Dante," Will admitted with a small smile. "You used to keep it on the bedside table and then one day it was just gone."

"I've kept it on me every day since the day I was tossed in the river and you used it to cut at the ropes that held me to the concrete blocks."

Will looked up from the knife in hand and pushed himself back up onto the bed, trapping Hannibal in a heated kiss. "God, I love you," Will muttered between their lips, forcing Hannibal back and onto the bed.

"All is forgiven?"

Will laughed loudly, the blade of the knife being pushed against Hannibal's throat. He looked over the man he was so dangerously tangled with. "Absolutely not," Will said, kissing Hannibal again. "This is just being added to the list of all of the other things you've done to me so I can use it against you later."

"That's highly unnecessary," Hannibal pointed out lightly, his adams apple catching on the blade of the knife when he swallowed. "You only need ask for what you want. You don't have to threaten or blackmail me."

"Where's the fun in that, Hannibal?" Will taunted, breath hot against Hannibal's ear before Will bit down on it, sucking it into his mouth. It took a lot to break Hannibal's composure and normally it was Will's goal to finally get the man to be anything but silent, but there was something about Hannibal's ear that let Will win. There was a whine from Hannibal, a sound so uncommon but so welcome from the man. Will sat up with a smirk, eyes on the knife blade as he slowly trailed it down Hannibal's neck. "Blood tonight?"

"You'll ruin the duvet."

"I think it's only fair."

Hannibal smiled and let his eyes close in surrender, giving Will all of the permission in the world to do whatever he could possibly want. A luxury that Will was not often rewarded with. Hannibal was always the one in control, always the one who had the last say and won every battle. Will enjoyed that in the man, but sometimes the submission was just as glorious as the victory.

Will let the blade dance feather light over Hannibal's collar bone and Will gave a playful hum. "Where tonight, darlin'?" he asked, letting his accent fill the room, thick and sweet like molasses, just in the way he knew Hannibal loved it. Hannibal's shiver was enough of a reinforcement on the idea for Will to push it further. "I think we should match, don't you?" Hannibal's only answer was to lick his lips with a small nod. "Here?"

Will picked up the knife and let the blade push back Hannibal's bangs before it settled against his forehead. There was a hint of dislike over Hannibal's features and Will couldn't stop the grin from overtaking his lips.

"No?" Will teased breathlessly. "What 'bout 'ere?" The knife slowly trailed over Hannibal's temple and down to his cheek. Will added a touch more pressure to the blade, but Hannibal didn't even flinch, simply shook his head in reply. "You're right," Will cooed, kissing Hannibal's forehead. "I reckon yer face is far too pertty to be markin' up, ain't it darlin'?"

"Will," Hannibal whimpered.

"Oh, shh..." Will nuzzled at Hannibal's nose with his own while the knife slowly slipped down to Hannibal's shoulder, pausing there for a moment in echo of the gun shot in Will's own body. "I don't think ya need to be speakin'." The knife continued its drag downwards until Will was sitting up with the metal pressed to the slight softness in Hannibal's stomach from a man who ate well all while trying to take care of himself. "We wouldn't be able to have fun if I matched this one, would we?" Hannibal shook his head and Will hummed.

He let the knife lower until it reached the line of Hannibal's boxer briefs and he added enough pressure to the pull of the fabric that it tore. The sound filled the room and Will could only grin at the sharp look from Hannibal at the disrespect for the material. Will pulled at the torn fabric, the shredding sound only louder at the harshness at which Will tugged it from Hannibal's body.

"Lube?" Will asked softly.

"Suit pocket," Hannibal answered weakly.

"I should cut you just for being such an ass hole. Thinking you were going to get lucky when we were in the middle of a fight." Will gave a huff of air as he removed himself from over the top of Hannibal and snatched up Hannibal's dress pants, digging through the pockets to find a small bottle. Will reached for the hem of his boxers, but stopped when Hannibal sat up. "Uh," Will warned, tutting. "You don't get to touch. Lay back down."

Hannibal inhaled deeply, looking over Will for a moment, taking in the younger man like a glass of fine wine. Will flushed hot, the pink extending to his hairline and down his neck and over his chest.

"I'm not even naked yet," Will grumbled embarrassedly. "Stop looking at me like that. I'm not your next meal."

"You could be."

"Shut up and lie down."

Hannibal gave a smirk, but obeyed, though his eyes didn't for a moment leave Will as Will finished removing his boxers. Will rolled his eyes at the smirk over Hannibal's lips and climbed back over the top of Hannibal, straddling him. Will's action was immediate, the knife back at Hannibal's throat as Hannibal tried to reach out to take Will's hips.

The smile pulled at Hannibal's lips a little more as he let his hands fall back to the duvet beneath him. Hannibal couldn't help but love the darkness that Will so desperately tried to deny and hide away. Hannibal had seen it the moment the first needle had been shoved underneath the first fingernail, the moment that Will glared and clenched his jaw rather than make any sort of sound.

He had seen, deep in Will's hauntingly blue eyes, the craving for violence and the hate that came with it for wanting such a thing. And it had grown in those next few days. The further Hannibal pushed, the further he saw Will's monster, the longing to return every last ounce of pain right back at Hannibal. How Will had hated himself and now Hannibal saw the same hate. Not as strong, but the hate of wanting something much worse and Hannibal knew that much worse thing was himself.

Hannibal was the absolute opposite of everything Will should have found in his life. Hannibal was a man who wasn't afraid to share all of his darkest desires and then act on them without shame. Will was slowly becoming more comfortable with the idea, but that strong streak of justice held him back. Hannibal would never dream of stealing that from the man. Will's fight and struggle with the light and dark inside was beautiful on its own and Hannibal would love Will no matter the path the man chose, be it against him or at his side.

Will pressed the small bottle of lube in one of Hannibal's open palms, eyes intense with their order. An order that didn't have to be vocalized. Open it. Hannibal did just that. He obeyed. Hannibal had told Will outright multiple times that Will could make Hannibal do whatever Will wanted. He only had to ask. But Will never seemed to grasp the concept, or he only liked to play with it when he was upset.

He placed some of the slick over Will's fingers that were out stretched and closed the bottle back up, setting it aside on the duvet. The knife blade was no longer cold, but the pressure added to it caused Hannibal to shiver.

"Don't touch," Will instructed once more. "You're dealt enough pain for one day."

Hannibal nodded in answer and watched as Will's hand reached behind him. Will's eyes slipped closed and a sigh escaped his mouth and Hannibal had to dig his fists into the blanket beneath him so that he wouldn't reach out for Will who was slowly working himself open with careful fingers.

"This should have been you, Hannibal," Will got out through his teeth on a groan. "These should be your fingers, your tongue." The flush only seemed to drift down over the empath's chest the more he touched himself and Hannibal's eyes followed the color that Will was no longer embarrassed by. "You should be touching me, Hannibal, but you can't."

"Please," Hannibal whispered, causing heavily lidded eyes to flicker open and look over him smugly. "Let me-"

"Punishments, Hannibal," Will interrupted, words slurring and once more slipping into a southern drawl at the pleasure. "How will you ever learn if I reward you for your mistakes?"

"I can make you feel good, silly boy," Hannibal once more tried to bargain, the strain between his legs nearly painful as he continued to take in the show above him.

"The problem, darlin', is that..." Will gave a small gasp, the sound higher than the others and Hannibal had to close his eyes, chest going tight at knowing exactly what Will was doing to himself. "...I can make myself feel good too, without yer help." Will's lips tipped up into a lazy smirk. "Shame, ain't it?"

Hannibal let Will's mewling sounds wash over him, feeling the way Will's body shifted every now and then over the top of him. It was maddening and Hannibal couldn't bring himself to open his eyes until another command came from Will's bitten lips.

"Slick yourself up, darlin'. Come on."

Hannibal's hand struggled to locate the small bottle of lube again, but once he did and his hand was coated, he took his cock in a loose grip and stroked it from tip to base, trying to keep the groan trapped somewhere in his chest rather than out in the open.

His mind went hazy and his breathing weak when he met Will's gaze. Will smiled, knife trailing down over Hannibal's chest, stopping at his sternum. Will hummed with a small laugh at the way Hannibal's hand stuttered and before Hannibal could concentrate on the movement, Will's hand replaced his.

"Let me," Will sighed softly. Hannibal moaned, head tipping back at the touch. A sharp pressure and brilliant pain at his sternum forced Hannibal's eyes open. Heat welled up under the knife, just a bead of crimson, but enough to gain Hannibal's undivided attention. "Eyes on me. Keep looking at me." Will released the pressure on the knife and Hannibal let out a breath as the pain ebbed away and quickly made way for the pleasure from Will's hand. "Just like that."

Hannibal wasn't certain if Will had ever been more beautiful. He sat above Hannibal like a sculpture of marble, powerful and stoic. Shoulders and arms strong and chest flushed a lovely pink that matched the man's cheeks.

"Hands on my thighs."

Hannibal's hands obeyed instantly, sliding up over Will's knees and to his thighs that have been trained, muscles made to run hard and fast. His grip tightened over Will at another harsher drag of the knife over his chest. The cut was once more not deep enough to leave any scarring, but blood beaded up along the length of it, glittering in the dim cabin lights.

"Keep looking at me, Hannibal," Will ordered once more and Hannibal licked his lips with a nod. Merlot stayed locked with blue as Will's hand stopped its stroking. Hannibal bit back a sound of complaint, but Will only chuckled at the way Hannibal sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. "It's ok, darlin'. Tell me what you're feeling."

Hannibal released his lip slowly, praying that his words would come out even and steady as Will pushed himself up onto his knees and pushed forward.

"Want you," was all Hannibal could mutter.

"Shhh," Will hushed once more with a knowing nod as he angled himself so that when he lowered himself back down, Hannibal's cock pressed into him. "I know," he soothed, leaning down to place a kiss to Hannibal's forehead. Hannibal's groan strangled somewhere deep in his throat as Will's wet, tight heat surrounded him. Will's slick was a consuming burn and Hannibal let out a harsh breath, the sound eager as Will, trembling and thighs tensed under Hannibal's flexed fingers, let himself sink fully onto Hannibal.

"Will," Hannibal gasped, nails biting as they dug into Will's legs.

Will simply smiled and rolled his hips, eyes shutting tightly with a moan. "You fill me up so good, darlin'." It was hardly a whisper, a dazed look taking over the smugness the same way that pleasure always did. Hannibal had always found it angelic when Will's face would smooth out into nothing but bliss, the stress of the day fading away. "Fuck."

"Vėlgi," Hannibal begged.

"No." Hannibal gasped at a harsher nick of the knife at his collar bone. "English, Hannibal. You know the rules." The smirk had returned to Will's face and Hannibal's jaw clenched. Sticky heat rolled over his shoulder and down his back into the duvet. "English when we fuck. Lithuanian when we make love."

"Again," Hannibal translated weakly, earning him a chuckle.

Will's hips rolled once more and he tensed up so tightly that it made Hannibal's breath catch in his lungs. It was thrilling to feel Will like that, hear him talk like that, exhilarating to have Will be in control. Hannibal knew it wouldn't last long, that Will would go complacent when he got close to orgasm as he always did, but Hannibal didn't mind. He could take care of the boy when the time came. For now, he was happy to be under Will's dominance.

Blue looked down over Hannibal, taking in the scarlet painting the older man's body. Hannibal belonged in red, draped in blood, dripping crimson. There was something about the image that was... beautiful. All that Will had ever wanted for them wrapped up in a sick mixture of pain and pleasure just as it always had been.

Will leaned down over Hannibal, the angle shift enough to cause Hannibal's hips to buck unconsciously up, seeking out more of Will's heat. Will let out a warning growl, the knife again at Hannibal's neck. He tilted his head, parted his lips and placed his mouth to the cut in Hannibal's collarbone, sucking a deep, blooming bruise against the torn skin.

Copper coated his tongue. It was a flavor that Will had become accustomed to over the years, whether it was his own from a busted nose or split lip, or if it were Hannibal's. An acquired taste that he had come to expect with the man under him, just as he had come to appreciate the large array of wines that were paired with dinner. Blood paired with love when it came to them and Will didn't want it any other way.

His hips kept rocking lazily, forcing Hannibal to feel every last movement. He knew the man beneath him had little patience when it came to something like this. They could stretch it on for hours and Will loved when they did, but it was never soft and gentle, not when Hannibal had his way. Hannibal was a different creature entirely and the slowness was the greatest form of torture that Will had found to grant his husband.

"Touch me," Will said against Hannibal's collar before pressing kisses down his chest and over his heart. A shiver racked up his spine as Hannibal's hands slid up his thighs to grip Will's hips, though they didn't dictate the speed, simply rested there, letting Will move however he wanted. One of his hands lowered and took Will's length, following the length of it slowly, matching Will's movements. Will inhaled sharply and nodded, forehead pressed into Hannibal's chest. "Like that."

Hannibal's free hand carefully made its way up Will's back before it cupped Will's neck. His fingers threaded through Will's unruly curls and Will hissed, hips stuttering in their pattern.

"Does it feel good to be inside me?"

"Yes," Hannibal got out tightly, hand fisting tightly into Will's hair. Will lifted his head, blue eyes hazy, but a brow raised for a better answer. Of all of the words that Hannibal knew, in every language he knew them in, he couldn't possibly find a single one to answer Will with. There was nothing that perfectly captured the moment, nothing to fill the situation, nothing to encapsulate the raw desperateness that was between them. "So good," Hannibal settled on, knowing it would be less than satisfactory.

Will smiled. He understood. Understood exactly what Hannibal meant. He had always understood exactly what Hannibal meant without Hannibal having to utter a single word. It was what had drawn the two of them so close together. The ability to see with extreme clarity.

"You feel good too," Will hummed, pulling the knife away from Hannibal's neck to kiss up the column of it, doing his best to not lower himself any further into the crimson mess across Hannibal's body. "You wanna cum?"

All Hannibal could think to do was nod, all other words stolen from him. His knuckles ached with how tightly they grabbed at Will's hair and he desperately tried to keep his other hand moving over Will, but when his mind would finally focus on it, he realized that he had stopped moving, far too lost in Will's movements.

He whined when Will pushed himself up fully and out of Hannibal's grip. The hand from his curls fell back down to Will's thigh, nails dragging over Will's skin, breaking it. Will winced at the sharpness, but smiled.

"Then you need to do something for me." Will's hands rested on Hannibal's chest for balance as he continued to gracefully roll his hips, a bit more fever to them now. "If you can make me come, I'll let you finish inside me." Will's nails dug into Hannibal's chest and Hannibal groaned. "Would you like that?"

"Yes," Hannibal answered, unable to hold back any longer.

He snatched up Will's shoulder and forced Will over and onto his back in the blood stained duvet. His feet planted on the floor and his hands pressed Will's legs into Will's chest to thrust as deeply as he could into Will. He knew exactly how to please Will, knew exactly how Will liked to be fucked.

Will moaned loudly, his hand clapping over his mouth to stifle the sound, the other clutching to Hannibal's arm, the knife trapped between Will's palm and Hannibal's bicep.

"Jesus," Will hissed behind his hand, his accent coming out again, drawled and deep. "Yes, like that. So good, Hannibal. So good."

Hannibal's hand seized Will's wrist, pulling Will's hand from his face and replacing Will's hand with a kiss, all tongue and teeth. Hannibal bit down harshly on Will's bottom lip, pulling a squeak from the man as blood spilled between their mouths. Hannibal's legs shook, spine tensed as he tried to hold back his release. He knew he would be punished by Will if he finished first and the punishment would be glorious, but Hannibal wanted to satisfy, wanted to desperately, desperately make Will call his name when the man came.

A searing pain tore through Hannibal's arm and he gave a pained moan, breaking the kiss between them as warm red dripped over his elbow and down onto his hand. The knife fell from Will's hand, lost somewhere now to the duvet so that Will's hand could tangle into Hannibal's hair. He drug Hannibal back in for a kiss and Hannibal's mind went dizzy at the pain teasing at the rapture.

Hand slick with blood, he yanked Will closer, under him. He was stronger, larger than Will and Will was nothing but a weak and moaning mess beneath him, but Hannibal didn't doubt for a moment who was in charge, whose control he was under, whose hand was tangled up in his hair.

"Touch me," Will begged between the kisses. "Please, Hannibal. Please."

Without a thought at the order, Hannibal's hand once more found Will's length, stroking it in time to his brutal thrusts, causing Will to tremble. Fragile and needy sounds came from the empath, his body tensed and clenched up.

"Fuck," Will growled, ripping his hand free from Hannibal's grip against the bed so he can grab up Hannibal's arm, nails marking bruises into Hannibal's skin. "Make me cum for you, darlin'."

Hannibal released Will's leg, free hand fisting into Will's curls to wrench Will's head to the side. Will let out another curse, legs wrapping around Hannibal, heels dug deep into Hannibal's spine. Will arched with a whine at Hannibal's greedy teeth against his pulse, biting and sucking to leave an angry purple mark behind for everyone to see.

Will came between them, Hannibal's name repeated over Will's bitten and bleeding lips, the words too weak with relief to be a moan. Hannibal buried his face into Will's neck, thrusting into Will to chase his own pleasure.

"Come in me, Hannibal," Will coaxed, voice wrecked and scratchy. "Please."

A hand trailed from Hannibal's hair and over Hannibal's back, taking in the strength of the muscle beneath his fingertips. Again, Hannibal was helpless. The heat in his spine was overwhelming and the coil in his gut finally snapped. Will moaned, dragging Hannibal down into a tight embrace as Hannibal flooded him.

Will's legs released their iron hold around Hannibal and fell weak to either side of Hannibal's thighs. An emptiness encased him when Hannibal pulled free and Will wondered if he would ever get used to the sensation of losing Hannibal's heat from inside of him. He greatly doubted it.

Hannibal collapsed into the bed beside Will, eyes staring unseeing up at the ceiling of the plane, the low hum of the engines slowly settling back into the space. Will's breathing was deep and heavy beside him and Hannibal's eyes slid shut as one of Will's hands took his, their fingers tangling together.

Will's other hand ran through his sweat damp curls, his heart racing in his chest. His grin was wide and pleased and he couldn't help but drop his hand between his legs to feel at the mess left behind. A moan of pleasure escaped him and Hannibal opened his eyes with a small chuckle.

"We should get you cleaned up," Hannibal muttered.

Will sighed and turned onto his side, eyes heavy with sleep, a dull ache finally settling into his arm. He gave a small laugh, a hand reaching out to Hannibal. Will let a single finger drag along the deep marking in Hannibal's arm that was still flowing freely. Hannibal winced, a sharp breath through his teeth, but when his eyes opened again they were full of love.

"I did make us match, didn't I?" Will asked tiredly and Hannibal gave a small nod.

"It's only fair, mano meilė." Hannibal leaned over, kissing at Will's tattered lips, tongue licking into one of the splits there. Will groaned into Hannibal's mouth, a hand caressing over Hannibal's cheek. "Happy anniversary."

"Still waiting to see how this picnic will be more romantic than stitches.''

"Deplorable boy," Hannibal scolded lightly, a smile on his face. "Let's get us cleaned up and you into bed. You should rest before we land."

***

The plane landing wasn't bad. In fact, Will's ears popped and didn't ring like they normally did, so that was nice. What wasn't nice was the fact that before Will even had a chance to look out the plane window, Hannibal had cornered him and forced a blindfold over his eyes.

"This is completely impractical, Hannibal," Will grumbled as he was led blindly down the stairs of the private plane, one hand clutching tightly to Hannibal's, the other out for balance as the feeling that he would fall at any moment leached into his blood. "I'm gonna trip and impale myself on something."

"Nonsense," Hannibal's voice assured. "Last step."

Will's body leveled out as he hit solid ground, but it did nothing to stop the way he might as well have been walking a tightrope. Hannibal's arm wrapped around Will's waist and guided him forward, though towards where Will didn't have a hope of knowing.

Will was ushered into a car and paused at a language he didn't recognize from whoever was driving. Hannibal didn't seem to have an issue with it though. The man answered back with confidence and Will's brows furrowed under the blind fold as he tried to place where they had exactly gone. He knew Hannibal was a wiz when it came to languages. He picked them up so much easier than Will ever could, but there was a limit to the ones he was fluent with.

"You don't know Spanish, do you?" Will asked into the void in front of him that had begun to move. His hand reached out to the side of him and felt his way to his husband's hand, taking it tightly in his own.

"No," Hannibal answered. "Though I'm sure it wouldn't be too terribly difficult to learn."

"We're in Italy then," Will announced, a smile coming to his face, rather proud of himself.

"Astute as ever, dear boy."

The car ride was silent after that. Will didn't need more than that. He knew Hannibal wouldn't tell him anymore until they finally reached their destination. He had to adjust quickly to the hopeless romantic that Hannibal could be.

Will tucked himself into Hannibal's side, head resting against Hannibal's shoulder. Hannibal's thumb kept a steady brushing over the back of Will's hand until they finally came to a stop.

Will was pulled from the car and rolled his eyes beneath the blindfold when he reached up to try to take it off, but was stopped by Hannibal's swift hands.

"I know we're in Italy and we're having a picnic," Will sighed in annoyance, though he let his hands be lowered and his waist taken again. "Do I really need the-"

"I thought you liked playing games with me," Hannibal teased against Will's ear before he kissed Will's temple. Will sighed, his feet moving as Hannibal tugged him along. "Play a little longer."

"Hannibal," Will grumbled, impatience fluttering in his chest as parts of him brushed past people around them. Will once more found himself uneven ground, the decline sharp on his knees, something rocky under his dress shoes. The ground once more leveled out, though it was obvious they were no longer on payment. Will was stopped and a pair of hands on his shoulder pushed him to the ground. He gave a confused smile, hands out to feel a warm softness as grass tickled at his fingers. "Hannibal."

"Just a moment longer," the accented voice said from somewhere in front of Will. Will gave a dramatic and sarcastic sigh that he knew would get Hannibal's annoyance up, and settled himself out on the blanket that his fingers found next. Will tugged at the grass in front of him, feeling and listening to the way it ripped apart all while listening to the bustle of what he assumed was a city. People speaking, car and bike engines rumbling, plastic bags, but under it all Will could make out the familiar sound of water. Flowing water. He tipped his head to the side curiously as the grass twisted between his fingers. "You may remove the blind fold."

Will didn't hesitate. He pulled at the hindering fabric and blinked into the bright sunlight that blinded him. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but when they did he couldn't help but smile as he took it in.

"A picnic," Will said slowly, looking at the spread of a charcuterie plate. There were two glasses for wine and a bottle opened to breathe. "I didn't think you were serious." Will looked over the man who sat beside him, quickly going about pouring Will a glass of deep colored liquid.

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"Surprisingly, no," Will answered slowly, taking the glass before finally glancing around to take in his surroundings.

They sat on the bank of a river. Something lightly flowing with the late afternoon sun flickering over the surface like dancing firelight. The city around behind Will, with tall apartment-esque looking buildings on both sides of the river, but what caught Will's attention was the bridge across the lake that looked like a floating shopping center. The buildings were dated and the rock beneath the buildings was dirty with age, but there was something so absolutely stunning about it that Will couldn't bring himself to look away from the arches where he could see people walking to the oddly colored windows. The sky behind the building was slowly becoming dusted with purples and pinks as the sun began to set, adding a brighter yellow and orange hint to the buildings.

"Where are we?" Will asked softly, pulling his eyes from the view and to his husband who was sipping on his own glass of wine.

"Ponte Vecchio Bridge, Florence," Hannibal answered with a small smile. "I used to study here when I was attending university."

Will gave a small laugh as he looked over Hannibal who looked so completely at home in his jeans and leather rather than the suits he stuffed himself into for work. The sun colored his hair a bit lighter than it normally looked and there was a healthy glow to his skin. The smile dancing across his lips was breathtaking and Will found himself sighing lightly at the sight.

Hannibal's deep eyes flickered over and he chuckled at Will's expression. "What is it?"

"I love you."

Hannibal's smile ticked up. "I love you, too."

Will pulled his eyes from his husband, heart filling his cheeks and he tried to hide his embarrassment in a drink of his wine. "More romantic than stitches," Will whispered, his lips still pressed to his wine glass and his eyes trained on the water.

"I'm glad."

Will opened his mouth to speak, but found himself struggling to come up with anything worth voicing. Not that Hannibal would mind. Hannibal always listened to anything Will had to say, even if it was some stupid obsessive, gushy outburst about a serial killer that Will found fascinating. Hannibal had never interrupted him or lost interest in the conversation and the attention always sent Will into a blushing fit because he was so used to having people dismiss him or tell him that no one cared about what was being said.

"I didn't expect you to be someone to study," Will finally said. Hannibal's brows rose in question, head tipped to the side curiously. "I just thought that you'd be one of those people who could just retain information and never have to study."

"Your photographic memory rivals my own, dear boy," Hannibal offered out. "And I would never be so cocky, especially in subjects that I found dull. Those were the ones I had to focus on. My mind wouldn't retain any of that information because I didn't find it important."

Will hummed with a small nod, taking in the words for a moment. "Young Hannibal Lecter sitting out in the middle of Florence, reading textbooks and drinking wine? What subjects did you have to take that you found so boring?"

"Statistics," Hannibal answered with a laugh. "They are needed and relatively important, but I wanted to be more hands on than digging through research."

"Well, you definitely are more hands on," Will teased, leaning back against Hannibal who held up Will's weight dutifully, a kiss pressed to Will's curls. Will gave a deep exhale, a finger trailing the rim of his wine glass. "Hannibal?"

"Hmm?" Hannibal hummed in answer, reaching out for some grapes from the charcuterie plate. He pulled a few of the light green fruit from the bunch stem and ate one before holding out one for Will.

The corner of Will's lip pulled up and he leaned over, his teeth taking the grape from Hannibal's fingers, his lips closing around the tips of Hannibal's fingers for a moment before he pulled back with a smirk at the slight surprise on Hannibal's features. Will leaned back against Hannibal, taking in the bustle over the bridge that seemed so far away from their safe little spot on the bank.

"I was thinking..." Will began slowly.

"Never a good sign," Hannibal teased, giving a small wince when Will gently elbowed his chest, hitting one of the bandaged cuts.

"Shut up," Will snorted out with a shake of his head. "I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you."

"Forgive me."

Will let his eyes slide shut at a kiss against his curls. "I've been giving it a lot of thought recently and after yesterday I..." Will's grip tightened around his wine glass and Hannibal frowned at the tenseness in his husband's body. "Do you really want your operations to crumble?"

Hannibal's brows furrowed with a small groan. "William."

"I'm serious!" Will said, sitting up and turning to look over Hannibal who ate another grape as if he were trying to distract himself. "Do you want to break down your family's empire?"

"When you say you've been thinking about this a lot...?" Hannibal pushed with a hint of hesitancy to his tone that stuck Will as odd.

"More than a lot," Will admitted sheepishly. "I've been... going through your books and your-"

"William," Hannibal scolded again.

"Listen, please!" Will begged, his free hand reaching out to take Hannibal's cheek, calling amber eyes to his face. Hannibal gave a small nod, the arguments dying on his lips. "Your front alone makes enough money to support your sister and you without laundering any of your other money. Mischa can keep running the restaurants, it's what she loves anyways. You could help her run them or you could even go back to school and finish your medical degree. You would still have enough to live comfortably or a long time even if you lost all of your underground funds. You wouldn't have to do anything right away."

"And what about the rest of my family and family friends? They look to me for support," Hannibal grumbled, though he didn't deny what Will had said which Will took to mean that he had a grip on Hannibal in this matter.

"They can work in the restaurants too, Hannibal. There's more than enough work for them. Legal work for them," Will pressed. "If they don't like it, then they can move on. Breaking this apart won't be easy, but we could."

Hannibal's eyes narrowed. "Jack's been helping you with this, hasn't he?"

Will gave a small shrug and a nod in answer, thumb gently caressing over Hannibal's harp cheekbone. "You've been working later lately. He started coming over for dinner after Bella passed away. I didn't have the heart to turn him away, even if you weren't there."

"How long has this been going on?"

"A few months?" Will replied, voice a bit higher pitch than normal as if he were waiting for the fight to be coming, ready for Hannibal's lecture that normally came for him when Will tried to insert himself into Hannibal's work. "I can help you do this, if this is what you want. Your sister and mother will be perfectly fine. Your father left them more than enough to live on when he died."

"And how would you help?"

"Make me your right hand man," Will suggested. "I can be your police informant. And once everything is taken care of we can move, move anywhere you want and you can be a doctor just like you've always wanted."

"And Jack agreed with you?" Hannibal pushed with a steadying breath, eyes carefully searching over Will's face. Will didn't need to answer. Hannibal already knew the answer to the question. "What about you?" Hannibal turned his face and kissed the palm of Will's hand, long and gentle. "Your job is there, your friends, your dog."

"Dog?" Will asked with a laugh, shaking his head. "You know I haven't had a dog in years, Hannibal." He pulled his hand free from Hannibal's face and reached out for a cracker from the plate, munching on it. "We both agreed after Buster passed away that we both worked too much for a dog. Not to mention I couldn't see a dog anywhere in your house." Will gave a brighter laugh at the thought. "You would lose your shit if a dog got a hold of one of your Italian loafers."

Hannibal stayed silent, brows cocked and eyes dead set on Will as he finished off his glass of wine. Will's smile dropped slightly as he took in Hannibal's expression, his heart starting to pick up in his chest.

"Hannibal, what dog?"

Hannibal's lips pursed and he went about pouring himself another glass of wine. "Is a picnic in a foreign country enough to render your observation skills obsolete?" Hannibal asked back, though a grin teased his eyes.

Will blinked and slowly glanced around them once more, locating a decent sized box with a lid and bow that he had failed to notice earlier, so caught up with the city to focus on much else. He pointed to the box and Hannibal simply nodded. Will reached for it, pulling it across the blanket and closer to him, the box moving unnaturally under his grip.

Will pulled the loosely fitted lid from the box and was met with a pair of large eyes and floppy ears with a tipped head. Will blanked several times, trying to take in what he was seeing. It was a puppy, something fluffy with a nearly red coat, though he was so mixed a breed that Will wasn't sure if he could place what he was.

Will glanced back up at Hannibal who was innocently sipping his wine. Will's movements were slowly, but he reached into the box and pulled the quiet little thing from its confinements, holding the dog on his lap.

"Hi," Will whispered, petting the puppy whose tail wagged happily. There was a small flicker of hope in his chest, something that Will didn't want to grow, afraid that maybe it would be ripped from him somehow. But a smile split across his face as front paws met his chest and a little tongue licked at his chin. "Hi," Will repeated with a laugh, ruffling the puppy's ears. He looked back up at Hannibal who was waiting patiently. "How-When?"

"I picked him up from the shelter yesterday. He's up to date on all of his medical needs and about twelve weeks old. They couldn't tell me what he was exactly, but I didn't think you would mind."

"Not at all," Will replied, eyes once more dropping to the squirming body in his lap. "Did he have a name?"

"No."

Another smile covered Will's lips and he nuzzled his nose against the puppy's head. "Winston," he said. "His name is Winston."

Hannibal grinned with a nod in acceptance. "Do you still want to help me break down my operations?"

Will tucked Winston snuggly into his torso so he couldn't escape, hand petting over Winston's head as he focused his attention back on his husband. "It was just a suggestion. We don't have to do it right away or at all. I just wanted you to have the opportunity to do what you wanted to do rather than what was expected of you," Will explained, looking down at a small nip from the dog at his finger. "If you don't think that you can-"

"It'll be dangerous."

Will was greeted with a murderous glint in Hannibal's gaze and Will smirked.

"Nothing could be more dangerous than being married to you," Will shot back, only causing Hannibal to chuckle. "I think I'm up for the challenge if you are."

"Absolutely."

"Thank you, Hannibal."

"You're welcome," Hannibal assured softly, shifting onto his knees, a hand taking Will's cheek. He leaned forward, kissing Will deeply. "I love you."

"I love you too," Will whispered breathlessly. "Happy anniversary."

"Happy anniversary, mano meilė."

***

mano meilė- my love

Nella prima pagina del capitolo che è il giorno in cui ti ho incontrato per la prima volta, appaiono le parole, Qui inizia una nuova vita- On the first page of the chapter which is the day I first met you, the words appear, Here begins a new life

Vėlgi- Again