Palatial Intimacy

XVIII- The Coffee

April 22, 2030

The two men didn't surface from their deep sleep until half past noon. They'd had a long night, and Will's body was much too heavy for him to want to get up. The only thing that stirred him from laying in bed forever was the opportunity to learn what had happened between him and Hannibal. He wanted to skim through the memories. He wanted to remember.

Being hungover didn't help his exhaustion, however. The sunshine streaming through the curtains was blinding, and he felt a migraine coming on. He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temples, sighing.

"Are you alright?" Hannibal asked softly. He'd propped himself up on his elbow, looking at him with a sleepy gaze. It made his almond eyes look even more thin.

"Hangover."

"I told you to stick with just one. That brand is much stronger than what they give you here in America."

"I needed it after everything that happened last night." He sat up, wincing as a rush of pain spilled out to surround his brain.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I definitely can't use the LOOM today. Not with my brain in this state."

"Of course. We don't have to talk at all, if you don't want to."

"I can't ignore everything that's going on." Will reached for the bedside table where he'd placed his phone. He knew that he was about to be overwhelmed with notifications from Molly and Jack, wondering where the hell he had disappeared to this time. He might not be able to come up with an excuse. Once was already tricky enough; twice would be impossible to uphold.

"What are you going to tell your wife?" Hannibal asked. It was a surreal question; Will never expected to be sleeping shirtless beside another man, making up excuses to his wife. He glanced up at Hannibal's face from behind the phone screen, the look in his eyes distracting him from the array of texts with his wife's name on them. Hannibal was much more magnetizing, and Will was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He had some inescapable urge to be near Hannibal, and that was part of the reason why he believed this entire story. The altered memories made things difficult; Hannibal could easily be manipulating him, making things up to bring him closer, but nothing could explain that urge. Hannibal could alter memories if he wanted, but he couldn't alter the entire brain chemistry, the primal parts of Will that had been written into his genes.

"I don't know," Will said. He looked down at the screen again. Dozens of missed calls and many unread texts from Molly.

You fucking left again?! I didn't hear you leave. Where did you go?

Fuck you Jack says you're not at work. Where did you sneak off to?

I can't believe you. What am I supposed to tell my son? That his second father figure is going insane, or cheating on me? This is your responsibility. Come home and fucking talk to me.

You need to learn some fucking respect. Do you know what this is doing to the people you care about? You'd better have a damn good excuse for this, or we are done. I can't do this anymore.

Where are you? I'm worried about you. Just tell me where you are, or that you're okay. I can be mad after that.

Will? You turned off your location. Or something's wrong with your phone.

Where are you? Will, please come back. We need to talk about everything without fighting.

Will narrowed his eyes. "I don't think I turned my location off."