𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐦

|| Matthew Brown my beloved.

It felt like murder.

If you feel so badly about it, I don't think you ever intended to do it.

Will slides his hands over Hannibal's shoulders and to the back of his neck, pulling him in to deepen the kiss.

( There's a part of his mind that is aware that there are only three ways his relationship with Hannibal will end - murder or marriage. Or both.)

I don't intend to kill unless I have to. I shot a man ten times to save his daughter. I. . . Am more content to move pieces into place and see what happens.

Did you feel badly about it?

I never wanted to. I was removed from homicide because I couldn't kill anyone. Until I did.

I have time for a long story. Who did you kill?

Never? I have. I'd have shot him, too, if I hadn't been stopped.

He framed his mentally ill client for murder and the client sewed him into the horse. Um. He deserved it. And I felt. . . Empathy for the client due to similar circumstances, so I almost shot the social worker.

Sitting outside in the rain with his dogs.

As an FBI agent, I get it. My experience with horses is a social worker climbing out of one.

Will shifts under Hannibal's hand, mouth parted on a soft noise. There's another thrill of fear that bubbles up in his stomach, erased by the way he just feels. . .

Content.

He relents, eyes on Hannibal's without wavering.

"Okay."

.....

I'm so curious about your life.

He woke up far before his alarm, and he's exhausted.

|| Nothing makes me click out of Hannibal fanfiction faster than Will calling Hannibal "Hanni". I just can't.

|| But it's also the episode Hannibal kills a homophobic doctor. So.

|| In my Hannibal rewatch and the worst thing about the ambulance eye fuck scene is that the episode also heavily features Franklin and I cringe.

|| Dr. Dilf.

|| I have such little impulse control that I watched Saw again and I want to write Lawrence Gordon.

Cut me open and make yourself at home in my chest.

He feels himself melting against Hannibal, leaning into him.

All Will can think to do is return the kiss with whatever effort he can manage. He enjoys the way that his brain has gone quiet, less of the torment of the thoughts that never seem to cease.

He puts himself into Hannibal's hands, places his life in his palms, and trusts Hannibal with it.

There's not enough coffee.

|| Yes!

maybe in another life, loyalty wasn't one -- sided and love wasn't convenience .

|| I, adult human, 29yo, with a full-time corporate job, bought myself juice boxes because I am allowed and there is no one to stop me.

|| He is too aware of what he does.

|| In recent news, @crimsonstaeg.bsky.social I cannot STAND this man.

|| Friendly reminder Will PAYS for therapy with Bedelia just to be petty that he won a man she doesn't even want.

God forbid I start walking around with the top buttons of my shirt open.

Hands find Hannibal's arms, fingers curling around his biceps tight enough that he leaves bruises against the skin. The pleasure is overwhelming, his head going fuzzy and cloudy. He whines softly, squeezing down on Hannibal's arms to try to refocus himself.