Surprisingly, Will has visited Nevada once before.
During the short phase in his life where Molly’s friends tried to reach out to him in an attempt to form some kind of a connection, he’d been invited to a weekend bachelor party. From the day they met, Molly made it very clear to Will that she considered her close friends as family. Being that Will had retained neither friend nor family up until that point in his life, he’d found it hard to relate.
Regardless, Molly’s best guy friend took Will under his wing and invited him along to a weekend in Vegas. Will spent the next two days drunker than he’d ever been in his life. Somewhere on Facebook there are still untagged photos of him, red faced and miserable.
Needless to say Will was not invited to the wedding.
Driving through Nevada with Hannibal is a different beast entirely. It’s like seeing the state again for the very first time, in the way that it was always meant to be seen. Will falls in love with the barren desert countryside because the landscape is the color of gold and rust and Hannibal’s eyes.
In a small town just over the Utah/Nevada border, Hannibal counts out enough cash from their reserve to get them one last night in a dumpy motel.
“We check out at 10 tomorrow,” Will announces, closing the passenger side car door behind himself with their new room key in one hand. Hannibal has been circling the block a ten minute drive away from the motel to ensure their license plates aren’t caught on camera; they can’t afford to be reckless now. “I’ve never heard better news in my whole life.”
As much as he’s come to find comfort on the road, it will be nice to stay in one spot for more than a few hours.
“I believe this calls for a celebration,” Hannibal agrees. “We will have to stop for food and drink.”
At the mere suggestion of Hannibal’s cooking, Will feels himself practically begin to salivate.
“What’s on the menu for tonight, Dr. Lecter?” He finds himself asking, the question a habitual response.
Of course, broaching the subject of who will be on the menu once they’re settled in Oregon is sure to be a different conversation entirely.
“As much as I find myself craving foie gras, I believe we will have to keep it simple,” Hannibal replies easily, in that tone of voice where Will can’t quite decide whether he’s joking or not. “I am planning seared steak and friseé.”
Smiling, Will looks at the warm expression on Hannibal’s face, and replies, “Sounds delicious.”
Hannibal does the grocery shopping.
Before leaving the car, Will makes him promise that he’ll use the self checkout. Once they’re settled in Oregon, Will finds himself fantasizing about home delivery and online ordering.
It takes Hannibal twenty three minutes, from the moment he leaves Will’s eyesight, to the second he walks back through the automatic sliding doors. Will knows this, because he uses the clock in the car dashboard to time Hannibal’s trip.
Had Hannibal reached thirty minutes, Will would have gone in after him.
“Everything go okay?” Will asks, as Hannibal gets back into the car with seven minutes to spare, and two bottles of wine alongside his bag of groceries.
Hannibal tugs his seatbelt on, and then leans forward to steady the bags between his feet.
“My trip was uneventful,” He promises, retrieving a fresh bottle of water. “You need to relax with yourself, Will.”
For a split second Will swears he feels his heart stop.
The memory is so crystal clear that Will is surprised he doesn’t hear it shatter over his head like a pane of broken glass. In the forefront of his mind he sees Hannibal perfectly, standing roadside in his pale jumpsuit from the BSHCI, face lit up from the sun like even the universe was in on their escape.
“Hannibal,” Will manages to say, still drowning in the memory. “Do you remember saying that?”
Mildly amused, Hannibal twists the plastic cap back onto his bottle of water, and replies, “I may not remember everything, Will, but please give me the benefit of knowing at least the last few minutes of our lives.”
“No, I don’t mean that, I - fuck,” Will swears, cutting himself off as he drives right past the overnight parking lot they shortlisted earlier. “Sorry, I’m distracted. I’ll circle the block. You just - you said the same thing to me a few weeks ago. I just thought. I, nevermind. It doesn’t matter.”
Shaking his head, Will takes a right and tries to pull himself out from beneath the wave.
He can’t yet quantify why such an unimportant fragment of their history manages to reduce him so thoroughly. Hannibal will just always cut him down at the knees, it seems.
“Perhaps the same memory is buried in my subconscious,” Hannibal offers. He adds, softly, “Perhaps it is simply a coincidence.”
Will frowns as their target parking lot comes back around. This time, he manages to pull the car into it.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” He sighs. It has to be nothing. Anything more than that would be getting his hopes up. They’re both quiet as Will pulls into a parking spot near the exit. He turns the engine off, presses his face into his hands, and manages to say, “Tell me it’s nothing, Hannibal.”
From his spot in the passenger seat, Hannibal watches silently.
When Will tips his head back to blink up at the felt covered ceiling, Hannibal says, “Will.”
“What?” Will replies automatically, sounding miserable. His eyebrows raise up into his hairline before he can even manage to get his eyes back open.
Sighing softly, Hannibal reaches across the short distance that separates them from one another, and holds onto one of Will’s hands. Will automatically tightens his grip around Hannibal’s fingers, trapping Hannibal’s thumb against the curve of his palm.
“We are very close to the end,” Hannibal murmurs. “Please do not leave me now.”
Will opens his eyes with a frown, and looks over at Hannibal sadly. He knows he’s been a little wound up lately, but he hadn’t realized he’s been so transparent.
“I know we’re close,” Will whispers back. He finds himself crumbling beneath Hannibal’s close attention as he sighs and unbuckles the seatbelt with his free hand. “Now there’s more to lose than ever, Hannibal. And if your memories don’t come back…”
With a quiet sound scraped from the back of his throat, Hannibal replies easily, “Do not be scared, mon bibou. I am always beside you in the dark.”
“Ah,” Will laughs, gripping Hannibal’s hand tighter. Suddenly his teeth feel much too sharp for his mouth, and his heart begins to beat recklessly inside the cage of his chest. “That’s reassuring.”
He meant for it to be a joke, but when the words are out, there is no ignoring the desperation beneath them.
“Yes,” Hannibal murmurs, lifting Will’s hand to his mouth. There is no hesitation in his voice as he adds, “It is.”
It takes forty minutes to pack up the car and walk back to the motel.
Inside, Will has a shower to clear his head.
Afterwards he finds Hannibal in the main area, sitting at the kitchen table and studying his textbooks. Without saying anything, Will walks up behind Hannibal and wraps his arms around Hannibal’s shoulders.
He’s still damp from his shower, wrapped in nothing but a threadbare towel. Hannibal doesn’t seem to mind; he makes a soft noise in the back of his throat when Will crosses his hands against Hannibal’s collarbones, and rests his mouth against Hannibal’s shoulder.
They lean against one another in silence as Will reads the page over Hannibal’s shoulder for a few quiet moments.
“This text compares recovering from amnesia to waking from a dream,” Hannibal murmurs, breaking the silence. At the interruption, Will finds himself pressing his nose into the warm juncture of Hannibal’s neck as Hannibal adds, “It indicates that a patient who recovers most of their memories may not remember what happened when they were amnestic.”
Exhaling sharply, Will opens his eyes and comments, “That’s strange.”
“Indeed,” Hannibal agrees. He moves his hand away from the page, and raises it to begin tracing his fingers up and down the muscles of Will’s forearm crossed over his chest. “The brain is a very complicated organ.”
Will makes a small noise of agreement in the back of his throat, and bites back the urge to say something like, I have an uncomplicated organ for you here to study.
After a few moments of quiet, companionable reading, Hannibal leans back and tilts his head to rest directly beneath Will’s jaw.
“I am assuming you have not wrapped yourself around me simply to study the brain,” Hannibal guesses, amused as Will automatically moves to rest his cheek against Hannibal’s chin. Will makes a soft growling sound of discontent, and palms at Hannibal’s shoulder. “I believe I have assumed correctly.”
Laughing quietly, and without saying anything else, Will begins tugging Hannibal’s shirt up by the bottom hem.
Neither of them say a word as Will pulls Hannibal’s shirt off with a wide, sharp, grin. When it’s off, Hannibal’s short hair standing fluffy in the aftermath, Will balls the shirt up in one hand, and drops it on top of Hannibal’s open textbook. He steps close, and leans in to bite at the side of Hannibal’s face.
Amused, Will feels Hannibal’s fingers curl against either side of his hips in response. Hannibal tugs Will’s bare body between his open knees, and arches up, trying to get to Will’s mouth with his own. Will grins and dips away from Hannibal’s lips. His hands trail down his own body until he knots them with Hannibal’s, still resting against his bare torso.
When Will leans down to brush their lips together, he finds himself content to simply breathe against Hannibal’s open mouth, moving incrementally until he finally gives into himself and presses his bottom lip between Hannibal’s own.
They both groan at the kiss, an automatic reaction to the sudden spike in sexual tension between them.
It’s easy to stay just like that, with Will between Hannibal’s open thighs, until Will begins to dip away again, unable to stop himself from grinning. He teases Hannibal by easing backwards after every kiss.
Hannibal gives up on kissing Will on the mouth, and goes for his chest instead.
As Will leans backwards, smirking, Hannibal sinks his teeth into the fatty flesh around Will’s nipple. Tongue sliding against the soap damp skin, Hannibal also trails one hand down the flat plane of Will’s stomach until he can tug the towel away from Will’s waist.
“Ah,” Will inhales sharply, gaze narrowing. He rests one palm on the crown of Hannibal’s head to steady himself, and tugs his bottom lip into his mouth as he watches Hannibal bite at his skin.
Dropping the towel to the ground at their feet, Hannibal brings his hands back up to rest at Will’s sides.
“Have you always undone me so completely?” He murmurs, looking up at Will’s face. He palms at Will’s flanks and then slides his hands down and around, until his fingers dig into the muscles at the tops of Will’s bare thighs. Will presses back against Hannibal’s grip, which is close to his rear but not close enough.
Grimacing, Will presses his thumb into Hannibal’s mouth, and breathes, “Yes.”
“Yet it seems that I would have it no other way,” Hannibal replies, before dragging his mouth away from Will’s fingers. He stoops down, hair brushing Will’s belly button, and presses his lips against Will’s lower stomach instead.
Will inches forward to rest more of his weight against Hannibal. He can’t stop himself from touching Hannibal’s body; just the feeling of his palm coasting back and forth between Hannibal’s shoulders is enough to keep him on edge as Hannibal begins to kiss and lick down his stomach. Will’s breath starts to come so fast, he’s sure he’s hyperventilating for a second.
Suddenly his body remembers what it means when Hannibal is bent before him like this.
He finds himself unable to hold back the soft noises that unendingly spill from his mouth. With his animal brain drunk on the feeling of having Hannibal so close, Will finds himself rhythmically curling his fingers against the marred skin of Hannibal’s back.
Will hasn’t had his cock in Hannibal’s mouth for years; his body has begun to vibrate at the promise of it so close again.
“Tell me what I would do,” Hannibal murmurs, glancing up at Will before pressing a kiss below his stomach.
Without meaning to, Will reaches down to give his dick a squeeze. The resounding pleasure that rolls up his body makes him swear and jerk.
“You,” Is all that Will manages to say, as a whirlwind of images parse through his brain. Hannibal deepthroating him, Will’s fingers twisted into the dark silk bed sheets; Hannibal sucking a deep bruise into the skin at the base of his cock; Hannibal with him bent over the dining room table, eating out Will’s ass until he was overstimulated and desperate. “Suck it, put me in your mouth. Please, Hannibal.”
Hannibal presses the tip of his tongue between his lips, and holds it there for a minute as their gazes lock.
After a long moment where all Will can hear is the rapidly increasing rhythm of his breathing, Hannibal leans down and sucks a wet kiss into the base of his cock.
“Fuck,” Will breathes, high pitched and desperate, as he braces himself against Hannibal’s shoulder. The click of his throat is audible as he swallows and breathes, “Hannibal.”
Hannibal begins to touch him relentlessly.
He wraps a hand around the shaft of Will’s cock as he sucks at the base, laving his wet tongue over the soft, sensitive skin there. Will’s short fingernails dig into Hannibal’s bare shoulder as he stares down at what Hannibal is doing to him, hips jerking and breath short. He lets out a surprised groan when Hannibal begins to jerk him off and suck at the head of his cock.
Will is driven crazy by the lingering sensation of Hannibal’s spit dripping down over his balls.
All of a sudden, Will can’t remember a single one of their problems. Hannibal’s incarceration, the jump, and resulting memory loss are all a thousand miles away when he’s on his knees in front of Will like this.
This is the only position that Hannibal has ever worshipped in.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Will begs, panting, as Hannibal swallows him down. He tries to take a step back, but is immediately stopped by the solid rein Hannibal has on his hips.
He stares down at Hannibal, panting, and watches the way the front column of Hannibal’s throat fills out when he deepthroats Will’s cock. Will makes a quiet noise of relent against the heat creeping up his thighs and then laughs a little, desperate with the way Hannibal is making him feel.
Without thinking, he reaches down and holds onto the base of his dick as Hannibal begins to set up a harsh rhythm, gaze coasting up to look at Will’s reaction.
Will licks his lips and then bites his tongue as he stares back into the baseless pool of Hannibal’s eyes.
He’s looked into those eyes a thousand times, but even his intimate familiarity with the heat he encounters there can’t stop the way his guts twist. Will groans, endorphins flooding through his body at the way Hannibal looks, and props himself up with one shaky hand against Hannibal’s shoulder.
When Hannibal pulls back to catch his breath, his throat and chest are flushed pink, lips swollen.
He wraps his hand around Will’s own, still rested on his shoulder, and tugs their joined hands down to wrap around Will’s cock instead. With Hannibal’s palm rested against Will’s knuckles, Hannibal squeezes, tightening their joined grip until Will is holding himself in the way Hannibal wants.
Will lets out a little noise at the suddenly tight sensation, and bends down to suck a misplaced kiss against the corner of Hannibal’s mouth.
“What comes next?” Hannibal murmurs, voice rough, fucked raw. He automatically closes his lips into a kiss when Will’s hips thrust forward, rubbing his dick against Hannibal’s mouth. Fucked up on oxytocin, Will misaims, and smears precum across the stubbled skin below Hannibal’s bottom lip.
Panting, Will uses his thumb to rub the precum off, and then dips it into Hannibal’s mouth, resting there until Hannibal presses his lips together and sucks.
“There’s nothing you haven’t done to me already,” Will manages, as he pumps his hips against the tight circle of his own fist. Hannibal stares up at Will’s face, raptured. “You’ve been inside me in every way that counts.”
Their gazes both flicker down to the scar marring Will’s lower stomach.
Will hasn’t said it out loud yet, but somehow the cells that make up Hannibal’s body alone seem to know that this strip of skin belongs to him.
“Is there anything I would not do for you?” Hannibal asks, moving his hand to resume jerking Will off slowly. He is unable to look away from Will’s face.
Breathing heavily, Will pulses a sharp, short grin, and thrusts against Hannibal’s palm.
“No,” He says simply, short of breath.
Hannibal’s expression twitches, muscles pulsing, and for the first time, Will realizes that Hannibal is jerking himself off inside of his pants with his free hand.
Groaning, Will grabs Hannibal by the back of the neck and tugs him down, until he can press his cock back inside Hannibal’s mouth. He begins to thrust recklessly, hips stuttering and shaking off rhythm.
“Hannibal,” He pants, stuck between Hannibal’s name and gritting his teeth together tightly.
The overwhelming urge to simply fuck and come begins to creep over Will. When Hannibal moves one hand back to slide down beneath Will’s balls, that’s it - it’s game over. Will feels his stomach muscles contract and then he’s coming, gripping onto Hannibal with one hand as the other clutches at nothing.
Knees trembling, Will pushes Hannibal back by the throat and then leans down to kiss him sloppily, tasting himself on the skin at the edges of Hannibal’s mouth.
Hannibal holds onto the back of Will’s head, fingers buried in his curls, and inhales sharply when Will pulls away to wrap his hand around Hannibal’s cock. Will sucks a bruise into Hannibal’s collarbone and jerks him off relentlessly, until Hannibal’s hips fuck back and he comes.
“Weird,” Will pants, breathing heavily against Hannibal’s chest. “Studying with you ends the same way my psychiatry appointments used to.”
Laughing despite himself, Hannibal pulls Will closer by the back of the head, and kisses him one last time.