Yearn | Hannigram

harvest moon

They left for the airport a few hours later, Will's skin still covered in goosebumps and his mind swarming with images of a beast gnawing and kissing the bloody massacre of Will's stomach . He flinched when Hannibal's hand slid over his thigh, turning away from the man, unable to meet those maroon eyes. Even without eye contact, their connection was spreading. Wriggling like spores under Will's skin, exploding in bloody fungus and stunning lichen. He began to understand the diabetic coma of the mushroom murders. Hannibal and Will were connected organically and without sedation. The sweet rotting, unknowing flowing slowly into the blackest of streams. 

      Will had grown rather comfortable in his isolation. He could barely manage looking most people in the eye so intimacy was usually far off the table unless that table was stocked with whiskey; his oldest flame. He learned early, with a father stained in its stench and no mom to teach him better. A lifetime of self dependency meant Will's trust was hard to earn- impossible, even. But with Hannibal the trust was clear; Hannibal knew his darkest self and Will knew his. Their lives were tangled in flesh and mind.

      The flight was draining, fear was deep in Will's chest burning like a forest fire. He wasn't afraid of Hannibal, just afraid of what Will would let him do. The line between them has blurred so intensely Will is finding their murder of morals beautiful, Hannibal's murders erotic, his cannibalism art and lust in one. 

     Shame for the victims still burns, makes him feel guilt for being the one who Hannibal treasures. The ego of being an exception to the man's ideology meant Will was special. He'd always despised his empathy, the darkest parts of his being, his brashness. Hannibal's celebration of that was manifesting in Will. 

     He was learning to empathize with the dark stag. The one he spent years running from. It was so much more real than his old life- or more accurately his life before Hannibal. Now, after the cat and mouse game grew too dull, they were on the same team. Birth and death blended into a tableau of religious ranking. Two horned and hungry gods, seeking revenge on the rude and greedy. Finally together and ready for the reckoning.

-----

Hannibal had a car pick Will up at Glasgow Airport, it was nothing flashy but it still made Will feel out of place. The driver opened his door exposing black leather interior and a bottle of champagne addressed to 'Mylimasis'. 

      Will gladly helped himself to nearly the entire bottle while on the long drive through the Scottish countryside. Fog was filling the hills with pink sunrises, as the sun started to peak over the tree line. The ride was lonely without Hannibal, but his flight was scheduled with different layovers and Will was a few hours behind him because Hannibal's pilot friend had to cancel last minute. His mindless boredom was filled with sweet booze and his anxiety faded as the stars disappeared from the night sky. By the time he finally reached the property, he was rosy cheeked and giggling with excitement like a damn teenager. This life was unknown to him but it made him feel so close to his luxurious monster.

     Hannibal met him at the gate and Will nearly flew into his arms once the car door was open. His face pressed into the cold fabric of Hannibal's overcoat, clinging to the man's chest like he wanted to drown in it. He did.

     "How was your trip?" Hannibal mused, wrapping an arm around the smaller man's waist and closing the door behind him with the other. He wiggled beneath his arms and began kissing the exposed skin of Hannibal's neck. "I see you enjoyed your gift."