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Watching the TV, Will resolutely ignored Winston’s Sad Eyes, the eyes that said he didn’t understand why Will got so much more popcorn to munch on than he did. Will had already broken his resolve twice, throwing him two or three extra kernels before looking away again. If he had known Winston would turn into such a fiend for popcorn that first time he threw him a kernel while watching a movie, he never would have done it. All his other dogs showed polite interest in popcorn, but they would settle down once he gave them one or two, but not Winston. No, popcorn brought out the worst in Winston. Will was saved from further torment by the dogs barking excitedly and running for the front door, Winston leading the charge.
“Will?” he heard his name called from downstairs after a moment.
“Up here!”
Eager trotting preceded Hannibal, who came to stand in the doorway to Will’s bedroom. “I apologize for coming by unannounced, but you weren’t answering your phone.”
Looking towards his house phone, he saw the light that signaled it was dead and needed to be charged flashing red. He’d deliberately turned off his cell.
“Something wrong?”
“Jack has a murder he would like for you to look at. He called me when you didn’t answer.”
“Sorry he bothered you.”
Will took stock of Hannibal then, taking in the mini-crime scene his tuning out the world had caused. His hair was soft and unkempt, layers more apparent as they lay across his forehead. No cologne or aftershave perfumed the air. Crisp white shirt unbuttoned around the collar paired with black slacks. Simple black overcoat to protect him from the chill. A pang of guilt overcame Will when he realized this was the Hannibal equivalent of throwing on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt when you’re in a hurry. He had meant to keep Jack out if he called, but he hadn’t counted on Hannibal being pulled into his game of Keep Away the Empath.
“It’s no bother,” Hannibal assured as he pet Maxi on the head. “Although I must ask, what prompted your impromptu hiatus?”
Smiling at him in a manner he hoped was apologetic, inviting, and reassuring all at once, he scooted over to the left side of the bed, leaving Hannibal the right. “Come here and I’ll show you.”
Intrigued, Hannibal finally walked into the room, taking off his overcoat as he moved and laying it at the end of the bed. Will watched as he bent over to untie his shoes and then maneuver into a sitting position, back against the wall with his legs outstretched. The sight of his socked feet made Will appreciate the intimacy of the situation and he smiled at knowing Hannibal was so comfortable in his domain.
“Popcorn?” Will offered as he held out the bright red bowl filled with his favorite kettle corn. At Winston’s whine from the doorway, he added, “Not you!”
“It’s almost midnight,” Hannibal remarked as he looked from Winston to the bowl. “And I’ve already eaten.”
“Midnight snack.”
Conceding with a good-natured smile, Hannibal picked up a kernel between his fingers and popped it into his mouth. Seeming to enjoy it, he ate a second kernel. Inwardly laughing at the sight of Hannibal I-Make-Everything-I-Eat Lecter eating popcorn, he situated the bowl between them and turned back to the TV mounted on the wall.
“You turned off all means of communication in order to eat - admittedly delicious - popcorn in bed all day?”
“Like you said, it’s delicious.”
“Will,” he lightly admonished as he plucked another kernel from the bowl.
Will relented with a sigh. “Murder and suicide become a popular trend this time of year.”
“Yuletide cheer inspired desperation.”
“Yeah, and every year it starts happening sooner and sooner,” Will grumbled through a mouthful, manners be damned in the middle of the night when his favorite snack was at hand. “I’m surprised it hasn’t started ruining September.”
“So you knew Jack would call today?”
“No, but this is around the time when the first ones come in. I wanted today to myself. I love this time of year and I wanted to enjoy it for once in my adult life.”
Hannibal nodded his understanding as he chewed. “And what made today that day of choice?”
Right when he finished asking his question, the TV screen switched from a commercial for tooth paste to a young Jamie Lee Curtis walking across a street wearing high-waisted jeans. Will saw Hannibal’s eyebrows raise out of the corner of his eye.
“The Halloween marathon was on today,” Will happily informed him.
“Michael Myers enthusiast, are we?”
Will felt his own eyebrows raise at that and he turned to look at Hannibal, who looked just as happy as Will had been to surprise him. “You’ve seen Halloween!?”
“It’s a classic,” he reminded him with a smile. “Of course I’ve seen it.”
“There’s a difference between Gone with the Wind classic and Halloween classic.”
“Not really. It all comes down to taste and I have a very broad palate.”
A loud scream made Will turn back to the movie. “I’m having a hard time picturing the circumstances that made you watch this.”
“I was in medical school, at the time. I was taking a break from studying for exams and I went for a walk in a nearby park. When I came to the trail’s end at the other side, I saw a theater with a bright sign proclaiming that it was revival night and Halloween was the chosen movie. I had nothing better to do and as the saying goes, the rest is history.”
“Bored with nothing better to do. That’s about how I came across it, too.”
They sat in companionable silence until Laurie somehow managed to not kill the Shape for a second time, both laughing at the absurdity as they enjoyed it. When the credits rolled and the banner at the bottom of the screen said Halloween: Resurrection was next, Will rolled his eyes but knew he was going to watch it anyway. He had committed to this marathon and nothing was going to stop him from finishing it, even if it was one of the worst films in the series.
“What are you doing for Halloween, Will?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, looking forlornly into his now empty popcorn bowl. “Either investigating a crime scene for Jack or breaking my cellphone. I haven’t decided yet.”
“No trick-or-treaters?”
Chuckling softly, Will shook his head. “My closest neighbor is over a mile away and they don’t have kids. Safe to say I’m not getting any.”
“How would you feel about coming to my place? I get plenty of trick-or-treaters and we could watch a movie together.”
“Depends.”
“On?”
“Do you wear a costume?”
“Not usually,” he responded, sounding amused. Will looked over to him and was warmed by the twinkle in his eyes. “But I can make an exception this year.”
“Good, now I have an excuse to wear one.”
“You can bring the dogs, too, if you want an excuse to dress them up as well.”
Both laughed, mostly because the image of dressing all of his dogs up was ridiculous, yet endearing in the most absurd way possible. He probably hadn’t meant the last part, but Will thought he should take the opportunity while he could. A god-awful scream interrupted Will’s laughter, reminded him of why he and Hannibal were in his bed in the first place.
“If I’m going to finish this movie, I’m going to need more popcorn.”
Hannibal’s face contorted into a cringe. “This is the worst one, aside from H20.”
“Which is why I need the popcorn,” Will assured him. “Care to stay? Or too offensive to your sensibilities?”
“It offends every one of my sensibilities, but I’ll stay.”
Grabbing the red bowl, Will got off the bed. “Staying for the popcorn?”
“Definitely for the popcorn.”
~~~
Corralling all of his dogs towards Hannibal’s front door, Will pulled out his key, insurmountably grateful that they had exchanged keys a few weeks back. It meant Hannibal didn’t have to wait in the cold for him and he didn’t have to wait for Hannibal to come to the door when he had seven eager dogs pulling at their leashes. Once inside, he unleashed them, only for them to all run as a solid pack for the kitchen.
Following them after he put their leashes on the small sitting bench, Will was surprised to hear Huey Lewis and the News’ Hip to be Square playing. It was so far out of Hannibal’s musical realm that Will blinked in surprise. “Hannibal?”
No reply came and Will continued through to the dining room, where he saw the dogs sitting at attention in front of the kitchen island.
“Hannibal?”
Taking careful, controlled steps, Will walked towards his dogs, but before he could get to them, an axe came swinging at him from behind the wall in the kitchen. Will startled, nearly falling down as he stumbled back and lost his breath. Reflexively reaching for his gun, he realized in a moment of fear that he didn’t have it.
“Got you.”
Hannibal stepped out from behind the kitchen wall with his axe and smiled at Will. He looked so fucking proud of himself that Will coughed out a laugh as his body reeled from the rush of adrenaline.
“Jesus, Hannibal,” Will laughed as he clutched at his chest. He could feel his heartbeat against the palm of his hand. “Scared me half to death. Is that a real axe!?”
Swinging the axe up, he held it between both hands. “No, but it was real enough when you didn’t know.”
“We are not having a philosophical conversation right now about reality and its merits when I was nearly just killed by the concept alone.”
As Will regained his breath, he looked over Hannibal’s outfit. He was wearing a black pin-striped suit - American cut - which he was certain he’d never seen him wear. Baby blue shirt with a white collar. Ugly patterned red tie. Opaque painter’s coat. All that with the damn axe...
“If you have a business card on you, that is easily the best costume I’ve seen in years.”
Hannibal held up a finger to signal that he needed a moment. He sat the axe down to rest against the wall, popped open the buttons of his painter’s coat, and pulled a card holder out from the inside pocket of his jacket. Holding out one of the cards, Will took it.
The name PATRICK BATEMAN was embossed on it along with all of his contact information.
Will couldn’t help but grin as he looked at Hannibal’s pleased face. “Lithuania Psycho.”
“I am a naturalized American citizen.”
Not willing to surrender, Will glared at him until he nodded magnanimously. “Lithuanian Psycho it is.”
“Now because of your -,” Will found it difficult to label Hannibal’s entrance, waving his hand in his general direction to indict so. “- performance, I didn’t get to make a proper entry.”
“Shame. Although, not everyone can claim to have had the privilege of scaring Dracula.”
Looking down at his costume, Will felt quite proud of it. He’d had it made a few years ago for a costume party at the academy after Alana shanghaied him into going via one very strongly worded, though teasing, email. The all black suit with high-breasted jacket, black ascot, and a replica of the red pin worn in the movie would have been enough for the bells of recognition to ring, but Will did them one better. He had fangs made for the occasion, slicked back his hair, and donned a long black cape with red silk lining. It was with a measure of pride that he collected the prize for best costume. Coming to Hannibal’s, he knew the ensemble would pass whatever muster he put it through.
Wanting to test Hannibal’s horror movie knowledge, he pressed, “Which Dracula?”
“Christopher Lee. The fangs gave it away.”
“They’re also the reason I went for Lee’s Dracula. Lugosi’s didn’t have fangs. If I went with his, I could’ve just been mistaken as a well dressed European from the 1800s.”
“The fangs are a nice touch,” Hannibal assured him before turning around to face the dogs. Will walked to stand next to him. “And what are the dogs dressed as?”
Will beamed at his dogs, who were all excitedly wagging their tails at getting attention from both Will and Hannibal. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“I was hoping I was mistaken.”
“Come on,” Will balked, laughing at Hannibal’s sardonic tone. “Seven dogs. Seven dwarfs. How could I not?”
“Then why did you not dress as Snow White?”
“Because I’m not pretty nor a princess, sorry.”
“I happen to think you’re quite handsome,” he refuted. “And if you had married me for the evening, I could’ve at least made you a countess.”
Thankful Hannibal gave him something to focus on besides being called handsome, Will turned to him with a bewildered expression. “Did you just admit that you’re nobility by proposing to me?”
“It’s a minor title.”
“You’re a count?”
“Yes.”
“So you should’ve been Dracula?”
“Technically, I only have the title to make it more appropriate.”
Biting his bottom lip, Will resisted the urge to laugh outright. Figures Hannibal came from nobility, it certainly explained a lot. With a mischievous look, he smiled at him. “Does that mean I can call you Count Lecter?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Just once?”
“Let’s not and say we did,” Hannibal teased, picking up his axe and walking towards the island. He turned off Huey Lewis and the News and picked up a crystal plate with little bone shaped cookies on it. Only then did Will notice the mountains of chocolate treats and sugar candies in decorative bowls. Judging from the smell of the room, Hannibal had made them all himself.
“I knew it.”
Hannibal was making each dog perform a trick and wait patiently before giving them their treat. “Knew what?”
“You’re the neighbor all the kids love coming to because you have the good shit.”
Placing the empty plate back on the counter, he tossed Will one of the sugar candies. His mouth reveled in the taste of succulent blood oranges and cranberries. Hannibal smirked. “I am that neighbor.”
“You should probably make more. I’m going to eat all of those.”
“I’ll set some aside for you,” he assured, moving to the cabinets to pull out a bowl, heaping a little bit of everything into it. “Did you bring a movie?”
“I brought a few, yeah.”
“Then why don’t you go into the living room and put one in? I’m just going to put these bowls in the foyer for when trick-or-treaters come. I’ll bring in dinner afterwards.”
“Dinner in front of the TV? Horror movie aficionado? Who are you and what have you done with the real Hannibal Lecter?”
“Do you believe I am pod person Hannibal?”
“For the record, the ’78 one with Leonard Nimoy is my favorite.”
“Noted,” Hannibal said as he smacked Will’s hand after he attempted to nab another blood orange candy. “Off you go.”
“I changed my mind. You are the real Hannibal,” Will replied with mock hurt as he left the room with two dogs trailing after him, the other five leaving with Hannibal in the hopes of getting more treats.
For someone who rarely watched TV, Hannibal had one hell of a set up in his living room. Seventy inch TV, blu-ray player, surround sound, comfy couches Will would gladly sink into and never be seen again. Taking off the book bag he normally used to carry papers around at the academy, he looked down at the various titles inside. He’d brought Halloween (in case Hannibal wanted to watch it from the beginning; also, obvious choice), Poltergeist, the Shining, Friday the 13th, along with several others. One title in particular stood out to him and he put it into the player before relaxing on the couch, waiting for Hannibal to join him.
Five dogs came in before Hannibal a couple minutes later, joining the other two in front of the coffee table. Hannibal was carrying two bowls on one arm and two wine glasses in his other hand.
“What’s your favorite scary movie?”
Hannibal stopped in his tracks and tilted his head, radiating disapproval and amusement. “Not that one.”
“Scream’s not that bad,” Will contested, rising to take the wine glasses out of his hand so he could set the bowls down. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied as he sat down next to him. “And no, it’s not bad, but it is hardly my favorite.”
Will looked into the bowls and saw that they were filled with pasta. Lifting his up, he enjoyed the warmth of the bowl and the strong, mouthwatering scent. “Tell me what I am about to devour, Hannibal. This looks delicious.”
“Tagliatelle al ragù alla Bolognese. It is a fairly simple dish, but quite satisfying.”
“I once ate reheated ramen out of a Starbucks cup in college. That was simple and satisfying.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Hannibal take a deep breath and look towards the ceiling, looking as if God had personally betrayed him. He then glared at Will. “Let’s leave the horror stories to the movies.”
“It was the beef flavored kind.”
“Play the movie, Will.”
Not wanting to press his luck, Will started the movie. Hannibal hummed in approval at the title sequence. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“What?”
“This is my favorite.”
“One of the few movies where evil truly wins,” Will nodded as he spun noodles onto his fork. He had also always been fond of The Omen. “Kind of pleasing in that sense.”
“I figured you wouldn’t like it for that reason.”
Taking his first bite, Will moaned his appreciation. He doubted it was as simple of a dish as Hannibal had claimed, too many complex layers for it to be something that could just be thrown together without much care, but it was as satisfying as he had promised.
“My empathy doesn’t extend to movie characters unless I force it to,” Will explained after he swallowed and began spinning another forkful. “The horror in these movies is so far removed from reality it’s funny. Villains that can never die. Key targets being horny teenagers. Walking to catch up with running people. None of it makes sense.”
“And if the villains weren’t superhuman and the teenagers weren’t so horny?”
Will laughed, thankful he hadn’t taken his second mouthful yet. It was already difficult enough to eat with fangs in; laughter would have only made it worse. “Then I wouldn’t be so entertained. It’s like seeing the other side of the coin.”
“Real horror frightens you, whereas fake horror amuses you.”
“Yeah,” Will confirmed. “All grass is green, but seeing it in another light can make it look greener.”
They slipped into silence then, enjoying their pasta, wine, and movie. Will leaned back on the couch to get settle in, but was stopped by – of all damn things – his hair. He didn’t want the gel in his hair to stain the upholstery, so he tried to find another position that was just as comfortable, but wouldn’t risk permanent damage to the furniture. Hannibal stopped his struggle before it really began, touching two fingers to his chin to let him know it was okay to sit back. He leaned back as well, his hair – unlike Will’s – had far less product in it than usual so it mimicked Bateman’s haircut. Will liked the look on him. Smiling to himself, he took a sip of wine and propped his feet up on the coffee table like Hannibal had. Just when they had settled in and Damien’s nanny hung herself, there was a knock at the door.
“Sounds like that’s our first trick-or-treater,” Will remarked as he paused the movie.
Hannibal picked up their empty bowls as he stood. “That it does.”
“Do you want me to get it?”
“No, no. I need to put these in the kitchen anyway. I’ll be right back.”
Will listened to Hannibal moving around the house as best he could from the living room. Dishes in the kitchen. Opening the door. Screaming children.
Screaming children.
Screaming children that started shrieking with laughter. Will considered investigating when Hannibal came waltzing back into the room, looking pleased as he twirled the axe around his hand like a baton.
Will felt his jaw drop. “Did you scare those kids!?”
“It’s Halloween.”
“You probably scarred them for life if you used that axe.”
“How else would I have scared them?” he inquired as he sat back down next to Will.
“I don’t know... tell them that the boogeyman is stealing their video games while they’re out?”
“That might have done the trick.”
Starting the movie up again, they only got as far as the scene after Father Brennan warns the ambassador that his son may not be human when the doorbell rang.
“Want to take a crack at it?”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he said as he got up and walked towards the hallway.
“The plastic bags for the candy is next to the bowls,” Hannibal called after him.
“Got it!”
Standing in front of the door, Will got into character. He took a deep breath, moved his mouth around until he stopped smiling, and put on a serene, blank face. Opening the door, he saw an astronaut, twins dressed like one slice each of a PB&J sandwich, a mermaid, and Buzz Lightyear. They all looked to be in their young teenage years.
“Trick-or-treat!” they all screamed at once. Will had a hard time not smiling at that, they were all so happy and sugar high.
“What are you supposed to be?” asked the peanut butter half of the sandwich.
Spreading his fingers so he held them like Nosferatu, he lurched forward, flashing his fangs and making a hissing like noise at them. The move had been so sudden and unexpected that they all screamed and fell into each others’ arms. Dropping the act, Will smiled and laughed at them and they quickly joined him.
“You all deserve candy after that,” he told them as he filled plastic bags for them.
“Nah, man. That trick was worth it.”
After giving them their bags of candy, he went back to the living room where he found Hannibal waiting expectantly.
“Scare them?”
“It’s Halloween.”
Right when Will sat back down, the doorbell rang again.
“Probably going to be a steady flow for awhile,” Hannibal remarked.
Nodding, Will didn’t bother to pause the movie again as he stood. “We’ll just leave it going. Catch what we can.”
“Isn’t it my turn to scare them?”
“I have an idea,” Will said in a conspiratorial tone. “Go get the door.”
Will walked through the kitchen and stood by the door to the backyard until he heard Hannibal open the front door. He then walked out it and quietly made his way to the front of the house, using the shadows to hide himself from the trick-or-treaters. While Hannibal distracted them with their candy, Will snuck up behind them. When they all turned to leave, he lunged at them like he did with the first batch of kids. Hannibal winked at him when the kids screamed and started laughing.
“Very nice, Will. Two scares for them.”
“They’re the lucky ones,” he observed as he walked into the house and closed the door. “The others only got one.”
For the next three hours, they barely caught any of The Omen or House on Haunted Hill, the movie they put in after. They started waiting at the front of the house, plotting different ways of scaring the trick-or-treaters. Will was surprised to hear some of them remark towards the end of the evening that their friends had been right for them to go to Hannibal’s house. Hannibal got a kick out of learning that they had become famous for the evening, their scares becoming legendary for a hot minute.
“Time to shut down Hannibal’s House of Horrors?”
“Looks like it,” Hannibal assented when thirty minutes passed and no more trick-or-treaters came, making it possible to catch the end of House on Haunted Hill. “I’ll clean up the kitchen.”
“I’ve got here and the foyer.”
There wasn’t much to pick up after in the foyer, only the nearly empty bowls of candy and the box that contained the plastic bags. Gathering them in his arms, he walked into the kitchen, only to find it empty. Finding that curious, he made his way back to the living room and found that Hannibal wasn’t there either, along with the additional absence of Winston.
“What the hell?” he muttered to himself.
Looking down the hallway, he noticed that the door to Hannibal’s music room was slightly ajar. Moving towards it quietly, he heard murmuring inside. When Will soundlessly opened the door, he was shocked by what he saw. There was Hannibal, petting Winston and passing him a ball.
A ball made of fucking popcorn.
“Hannibal!”
Both turned to him looking shocked, like they had been caught doing something illegal. But Winston’s was more colored by apologetic smugness, the way one looks when they already got what they want so they don’t care if they have to apologize or not. Popcorn ball in mouth, he gleefully jumped, spun around, nuzzled Hannibal’s leg lovingly, and plopped down to begin tearing into his treat. The whole routine looked even more ludicrous because of his Dopey costume.
Getting up from his hunch, Hannibal smoothed his suit pants demurely. “I can explain.”
“I’d love to hear it.”
“He was good tonight. I thought he deserved a treat.”
“You already gave him and the other dogs a treat.”
“He loves popcorn.”
“I know,” Will strenuously assured him, pointing at the now half eaten popcorn ball. “Every time I watch a movie he’s on me like mosquitoes to a bug zapper.”
“You didn’t give him any while I was over.”
“Because I’d already given him some. Three times.”
Hannibal pressed his lips together, looking guilty but not knowing what to say. Ever since he had Hannibal feed his dogs that first time, he suspected he’d developed a soft spot for Winston, much like he had. Rolling his eyes, he huffed out a chuckle.
“Well, say goodbye to your new best friend. We’re going to have to be leaving soon.”
“It’s late. Why don’t you stay the night?”
Will felt a blush working its way up his neck. There were so many ways to read into that offer, so he stuck with the chaste explanation. “I appreciate it, but I wouldn’t want to impose anymore than I already have.”
“You wouldn’t be imposing at all. Please,” Hannibal assured before he added, with a lascivious tone, “And besides, wouldn’t you like to suck my blood?”
No way to mistake that offer for what it was, Will dropped his head to hide his face so Hannibal wouldn’t see how red it probably was. His face felt like it was on fire and anticipation started churning in his stomach. “Hannibal, even I can make an innuendo out of that.”
“You know that was the point.”
“Then, uh, yeah,” Will smiled as he scratched at the back of his head, still unable to make eye contact. “I’d, uh, like to suck your blood.”
The way their laughter chimed together was pleasing to Will’s ears and he looked up into Hannibal’s smiling face. Grinning back, he walked towards Hannibal, who cupped the side of his face, gently caressing his cheekbone with far more tenderness than he had expected.
“Should I take the fangs out?”
Hannibal maneuvered his thumb towards Will’s mouth, poking it on the closest fang. His leer carried with it promises that made Will’s blood sing.
“I’m sure we could find a use for these.”