Chapter Text
"Hannibal." He whispered to the cold room, the echoes of barking in his memory keeping him wide awake dispite the drowsiness that comes with a full belly, that fancy soup was really delicious. Vegetarian, Hannibal had said, but his sense of taste had long improved, so has the hability to detect lies by omission. He nodded and smiled, making extra slurping noises and direct eye contact, just because he could. Huh, who would have thought, vegetarians tasted like chicken.
Back in the large bed, a few minutes passed by with not even a millimeter of movement or a change in the pace of breathing. Oh, but Hannibal was awake. Maybe even before Will thought about what to say. It was both amazing and horrible, how their blurring has progressed through the years. Ha, he did catch the son of a bitch after all, right? He knew how to make the yet terrifying Chesapeake Ripper agree to do pretty much all he wanted. It only took an ear down his throat, linoleum knife in his gut and jumping off a cliff to get the hang of it.
"Hannibal," He spoke again, this time turning on his side, breath close to the fine hairs of his nape, noticing how long it has grown, almost reaching his shoulders. "I know you’re awake so I’m gonna just pretend you agree to everything I say" Blink, ah, there it is, after a deep sigh his head turned, he got the staring needed for this conversation, maybe a little murdery, but it was just for show, or so he hoped.
"Will, we are not getting another dog, specially a senior one." That voice had not even a trace of sleepness, he knew it!
"You do realize I’m younger than you, so basically you’re saying i could just throw you on a alley when you get to hm… senior?" Grinning, but as soon as the joke left his lips, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he had pushed too far. Oh well, it was bound to happen from time to time and usually brought some fun consequences. Of course, depending on how you looked at them in the mirror afterwards, with an ice pack. One thing he learned about this crazy, crazy marriage (there was no other term for it on any language he knew and Hannibal was just too damn abstract, by default, to define anything) was that he could be rude. In fact, Hannibal found it endearing, only adding to his charm along with his mental instability. Still, there was a fine line somewhere around even thinking dumping his ass for a younger cannibal. The staring got “double murder you got in trouble” so he quickly amended.
"Don’t you go looking at me like that, as if I’m going back to cook my own meals. I’m just saying it’s an old dog for our pack, he is going to die soon anyway better to go up chewing on some animal abusing bastard’s thigh, right?" Then, he boldly booped the nose of a cannibal. Will Graham was never known for his self prevervation instict or overrall tact, but said cannibal was deeply obsessed with him, so it was almost harmless, he guessed. It was really amusing to see the minuscule grimace (barely contraction of lower lip) when he said “our pack” change to the smug “I’m so awesome I can make dog food taste good” look at the mention of a banquet to a dying mutt. He could even bet this sick beautiful mind was going to write some poetry about it. So easy, appealing to a psychopath’s narcissist traits.
Finally, Hannibal fully turned, facing his other, debatable better half, touching their cold noses and saying quietly "Very well, assuming his liver can take some cognac, I am not against doing justice to a senior dog and having a small feast meanwhile, for you only." Down his warm hand went, slowly tracing the smile on his belly "But as I always say, quid pro quo my dear Will..."
Oh, he should have seen it coming a long way, shouldn't he?