![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
[ week six ➝ hannibal ]
[ Will dies by Percy's sword and there is nothing more fitting when it comes to his entire experience here. There is nothing else Will could have wanted more than that.
But then he wakes in a room on a train, jerking upwards and scrambling back to grab the sheets on top of him. He is -- he is clean. He is blood free and his hair is shorter and his beard is lighter. He is in a white shirt and black slacks and his heart is pounding because he smells the ocean again.
Then, the memories come flooding back and he feels himself choke, a hand moving up to cover his mouth as his eyes dart around wildly and his knees slowly pull to his chest. Hannibal, he thinks, must be out there but all he can do is listen to the screaming static in his brain as his eyes cloud over and overflow with heavy tears. He moves his arms to curl around his legs and his fingers dig into his own knees through the fabric and oh -- oh, he begins to sob.
It's been so long since he cried, he nearly forgot what a relief it was to do so. ]
But then he wakes in a room on a train, jerking upwards and scrambling back to grab the sheets on top of him. He is -- he is clean. He is blood free and his hair is shorter and his beard is lighter. He is in a white shirt and black slacks and his heart is pounding because he smells the ocean again.
Then, the memories come flooding back and he feels himself choke, a hand moving up to cover his mouth as his eyes dart around wildly and his knees slowly pull to his chest. Hannibal, he thinks, must be out there but all he can do is listen to the screaming static in his brain as his eyes cloud over and overflow with heavy tears. He moves his arms to curl around his legs and his fingers dig into his own knees through the fabric and oh -- oh, he begins to sob.
It's been so long since he cried, he nearly forgot what a relief it was to do so. ]
no subject
Hannibal's words soothe him in a way no one else can and he lifts his head then from where he was resting to look at Hannibal again, properly now that they're reunited. The last time he saw him, there was blood and he was unnaturally still, cold to touch. Now, he's warm and soft under Will and his eyes shine with amusement, with love. Will smiles back, the smile stretching at Hannibal's promise, and this is what he ached for -- this reunion.
He lifts a hand then to wipe the wetness from his eyes with a sleeve and leans forward a moment later to press his mouth to Hannibal's in a firm kiss. He would prefer to stay like this, he thinks, to stay here in their quiet moment together. The rest of the train has regrets and betrayal seeped into the walls of it and he does not quite want to face them yet. Instead, he savors Hannibal, the reunion of the two of them and the marvel that he could not stand three days after three years.
When he pulls away, he keeps his forehead to Hannibal's and his eyes take in his face, every tiny expression or emotion in his eyes. After a moment, Will gives a small sigh, a tired acceptance. ]
I love you. [ A pause after and he continues, quiet and soft. ] I've said it to others and with company, but I haven't yet said it to you. I guess it was easier to state plainly rather than face the acknowledgement of it between us.
But we've both died now, haven't we? So, there's no benefit in not voicing it and I want you to know. I love you back.
no subject
The kiss is just as pleasantly unexpected as it has been before, because even after a few weeks of deciding that what they have is something romantic, it feels like it'll be a surprise for a while. Having his love reciprocated is just such a warm, pleasant feeling that he doesn't even mind if it continued to be a surprise. The hesitation is only momentary, a beat more than anything else, but he kisses Will back briefly before he pulls back. Even for that moment, the appreciation and affection he feels is clear in his kiss.
But that's hardly anything compared to that incredibly straightforward declaration. It's not quite a confession, since Will is right. It's already been said, and they've already understood it. It almost hadn't needed to be said, because the love was always clear between the lines of their conversations, of their gestures, of everything they had finally accepted themselves to be. There was never any doubt of this for Hannibal once Will had helped him escape, but still—
His vision blurs, because the swell of emotion that comes with it is immediate. He was admittedly always more emotional when it came to Will, as he was one of the few to be able to pull this kind of reaction from him, and even though his soul is laid bare in all in front of Will, he still finds himself closing his eyes as if to hide it. Bashful isn't exactly a word you could use to describe Hannibal, but he feels the intensity of how Will is looking at him all the same. Even so, he's not bothered. He smiles, and it's easy and happy. ]
Is it too much to say "I know"?
[ Though even that comment is teasing, and Hannibal reaches up to cup Will's face in his hands as he opens his eyes again. Truly, he's here only in this moment, and he would be perfectly happy if this were it. He doesn't kiss Will again, not yet, since he's happy with the two of them like this for now. ]
You've killed for me, and we've died for each other. What more could I want than that?
[ With that said, he kisses Will himself. It's not as firm as Will's kiss had been, but it's deep and romantic. Again, appreciation and fondness rolls off him like something almost physical, but between a breath, he does say one more thing: ]
And I love you— It is why we will always find our way back to each other.
ok calm down gone girl
Unlike in town, where the ability to feel hung in the air to a point where Will could barely breathe with it -- here it's settled, back to normal. He sees the emotion on Hannibal's face rather than feels it, has to reach out a bit more to feel it himself and the warmth soothes him, makes him feel pleasant all over. As Hannibal cups his face, Will lifts his own hands to curl around his wrists, tilts his face to press a kiss to his palm. It's almost too easy to express the affection he has, almost absurd how he can just relieve it through soft kisses and light touches.
Once again, Chiyoh's voice rings out in his head. There are other means of influence than violence. He feels the urge to thank her for this every day and he is sure that when the return to the land of the living, he will have that choice. She is truly Cerberus in how she waits at the gates for Hannibal to return.
He isn't sure what to say in response, isn't sure what type of response would match Hannibal's declaration as much as he wants to. All he can think is -- of course, of course he would because the need for Hannibal is always going to be lurking in his subconscious. He knew it, even if he didn't want to acknowledge it, when he accepted Jack's offer to chase after the Dragon.
So, he says nothing and instead sinks into Hannibal's kiss. He feels the love down to his marrow and slides his hands away from Hannibal's wrists to clutch at his shoulders as he kisses. And kisses. And kisses. And keeps kissing. Of course, the kisses will grow more amorous as they go and there's no want in Will to stop it -- to put a pause on them -- because well, they're dead, aren't they? There's no pressure to do anything else here than indulge and after all of this, indulging in Hannibal seems like a good enough reward to him. ]