This Is My Design.

Part 5: In Which There Is Underwear, And A Shark

Our continuing Hannigram story, written via Twitter every week before viewing the new episode of series 2. Because it's weekly, we're not following any series progression, but our own whims and desires. Mostly to get Hannibal and Will naked.

Will and Hannibal stood inches from each other. Will in boxer shorts, Hannibal in European-style briefs.

Hannibal's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. Will's voice was a low, unsteady growl. 'It's my turn to bring the meat.'

Just the the phone rang. 'Yes?' Hannibal never took his eyes off Will. 'Jack? A gruesome murder you say? On a boat?'

Will swore. And yet maybe this interruption was what he needed, to save him from his dark desires.

*Follow

The waters of Chesapeake bay were bitterly cold, and Hannibal was glad he had his clothes back on. He surveyed the crime scene.

There was a lot of blood. Will welcomed it. It was a reminder of what he had nearly just done…what he must never do.

'Will' Jack scowled. 'I didn't expect you and Hannibal.'

'Ah, Will is always with me.' Hannibal's fingers brushed Will's.

At the touch, Will couldn't help the images that swam into his mind. Hannibal's flesh. His eyes. 'What have you got, Jack?'

'Not much,' Jack said. 'Just the blood, and this head on a grappling hook. Looks like someone's been fishing... For shark.'

Will staggered back. Once again, a horrific murder was a metaphor for his own life. What was Hannibal, but a shark?

'Well you're the fisherman, Will,' Hannibal held Will's gaze. 'Perhaps we should go down below, and see what we can discover.'

'I've never fished with human flesh,' Will said. 'Although someone certainly tried to make it look as if I did.'

'Come, come, Will.' Hannibal said. 'Must you really keep accusing me? Even now, as you unfurl your wings in order to fly?'

'Remember,' Will whispered to him, with a brush of fingertips on his sleeve. 'With you, I can be truthful. It's…therapeutic.'

Hannibal closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling the scent of salty sea water and Will's warm skin. He could almost taste him.

When Will saw Hannibal doing this—savouring him—he felt a surge of power. Of tantalising control. Almost like a predator.

'Oh my God!' Jack pointed. Out of the grey still waters, a sharp shark fin sliced through the surface, circling the boat.

Instinctively, Will jumped back into the dubious safety of Hannibal's arms.

'Don't worry Will,' Hannibal whispered. 'I fricasseed the last shark I caught, and ate it with a nice Pinot Grigio.'