Would you like to stay for dinner?

“H-How am I walking around now. I-I’m supposed to be dead… Why am I clean shaven? I remember having a beard before you killed me.” He spoke with spite in his voice.

Hannibal glances placidly down at the glass shank in Will’s hand then back to his yes.

“Hawthorn, my dear, not glass. Or dogwood. You’ll do nothing more than make you chest tight with that little shard.”

“H-How am I walking around now. I-I’m supposed to be dead… Why am I clean shaven? I remember having a beard before you killed me.” He spoke with spite in his voice.

Hannibal glances placidly down at the glass shank in Will’s hand then back to his yes.

Will pulls his hand close to his chest, rubbing at the area that Hannibal had grabbed to relieve the pain and tension. He apprehensively followed Lecter out into the Hall, trying to determine what Hannibal was going to say to him.

Hannibal steps around the table to retrieve another wineglass from the rack over the sink. He doesn’t answer until he pours himself an amount matching that of Will’s glass.

Hannibal stands serenely across the table from Will, his own glass in hand. He sips before answering, voice still even. “Yes, I did.”

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Will pulls his hand close to his chest, rubbing at the area that Hannibal had grabbed to relieve the pain and tension. He apprehensively followed Lecter out into the Hall, trying to determine what Hannibal was going to say to him.

Hannibal steps around the table to retrieve another wineglass from the rack over the sink. He doesn’t answer until he pours himself an amount matching that of Will’s glass.

He keeps his lips and teeth on Ciar’s throat for a time, until getting impatient enough to start removing the musician’s shirt. When it’s gone, he moves down again-kissing and sucking bruises to the younger man’s collar and shoulders.

“No!” He snarled, feeling the hunger pains hit him hot and heavy. “You’ll tell me here and now!” He needed to eat, to feed, he was starving and desperate. He could sense the authority and sternness in Hannibal and wondered if Lecter could smell his fear and apprehension.

Just as quickly as Will approaches and raises his hand, Hannibal takes his wrist in a crushing grip. He forces the hand down, turning it at an awkward angle to force Will into an unsteady stance.

“First, for you to compose yourself. Second, for you to come with me downstairs. I will answers your questions and explain everything-including your growing hunger and why we’ve left the US.” His tone is still low, dangerous.

“No!” He snarled, feeling the hunger pains hit him hot and heavy. “You’ll tell me here and now!” He needed to eat, to feed, he was starving and desperate. He could sense the authority and sternness in Hannibal and wondered if Lecter could smell his fear and apprehension.

Just as quickly as Will approaches and raises his hand, Hannibal takes his wrist in a crushing grip. He forces the hand down, turning it at an awkward angle to force Will into an unsteady stance.

Ciar was pleased to be flipped, and lay on his back, watching him almost hungrily, returning the kiss. “There’s the man I knew.” He whispered in between kisses.

He keeps his lips and teeth on Ciar’s throat for a time, until getting impatient enough to start removing the musician’s shirt. When it’s gone, he moves down again-kissing and sucking bruises to the younger man’s collar and shoulders.