Back in the flat, Will feels calmer has since they began their wild
escape from the US, since the day he shot Garret Jacob Hobbs to death
in his kitchen in Minnesota. Over the months since that fateful day,
Will's been changing, transforming, under his own steam but more so
with the careful, precise guidance of the man stood across the room
from him now. There was a time when all Will had felt for Hannibal was
contempt, anger, and disgust, and the path from that to here hadn't
been a long one, but now all he sees when he looks at Hannibal is the
other half of himself. Put that way it's not so surprising; all of
those things he hated about Hannibal are things that Will has now
fully embraced as a part of himself.
In Hannibal's bedroom back in Baltimore their coupling had been an
exhibition of Will's submission and Hannibal's dominance, the first
action of proof that Will was serious about making a life with
Hannibal, about being a part of Hannibal's future. This, here and now
in their apartment in Paris, isn't a reversal of that. It's an
acceptance, it's Hannibal proving to Will their equality, his trust,
and his readiness for their entwined future.
Crossing the space between them, Will reaches out to touch the curve
of Hannibal's cheek with his fingertips, following the shape of it
down to trail along Hannibal's jaw. There's the slight texture of
stubble there, a reminder of how long they've been running, and Will
realizes he's never seen Hannibal when he wasn't clean shaven before
this moment. It's the first of many things they'll share in their
lives together, allowing each other to see imperfections and flaws,
letting each other all the way in, no secrets, no places uncovered.
Will draws a finger along Hannibal's lower lip, allowing it to slip
off the end of Hannibal's chin as he leans in for a kiss, sweet and
slow and shallow, just the first press, the beginning of what Will
hopes is a moment neither of them will ever forget.
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Back in the flat, Will feels calmer has since they began their wild escape from the US, since the day he shot Garret Jacob Hobbs to death in his kitchen in Minnesota. Over the months since that fateful day, Will's been changing, transforming, under his own steam but more so with the careful, precise guidance of the man stood across the room from him now. There was a time when all Will had felt for Hannibal was contempt, anger, and disgust, and the path from that to here hadn't been a long one, but now all he sees when he looks at Hannibal is the other half of himself. Put that way it's not so surprising; all of those things he hated about Hannibal are things that Will has now fully embraced as a part of himself.
In Hannibal's bedroom back in Baltimore their coupling had been an exhibition of Will's submission and Hannibal's dominance, the first action of proof that Will was serious about making a life with Hannibal, about being a part of Hannibal's future. This, here and now in their apartment in Paris, isn't a reversal of that. It's an acceptance, it's Hannibal proving to Will their equality, his trust, and his readiness for their entwined future.
Crossing the space between them, Will reaches out to touch the curve of Hannibal's cheek with his fingertips, following the shape of it down to trail along Hannibal's jaw. There's the slight texture of stubble there, a reminder of how long they've been running, and Will realizes he's never seen Hannibal when he wasn't clean shaven before this moment. It's the first of many things they'll share in their lives together, allowing each other to see imperfections and flaws, letting each other all the way in, no secrets, no places uncovered.
Will draws a finger along Hannibal's lower lip, allowing it to slip off the end of Hannibal's chin as he leans in for a kiss, sweet and slow and shallow, just the first press, the beginning of what Will hopes is a moment neither of them will ever forget.