unbent unbowed unbroken

“This is all I ever wanted for you,” Hannibal confesses. He cannot look away, his very sternum sliced open and torn apart to expose his naked heart to Will Graham. Again. As it always has been. “For both of us.”

“It’s beautiful,” Will’s breathlessly moving closer as Hannibal grasps his hip. Will’s arm goes around his neck. Hannibal remains still, so not to spook his wild yet skittish stag. He closes his eyes when Will rests his head upon his chest. His treacherous heart booms like thunder, and for the first time since he was a boy, Hannibal is overwhelmed.  

They’re embracing properly now, no room for space left between them with arms full of one another. Hannibal gazes down at dark curls matted with blood. Will tilts his head up, blue eyes open and searching. Hannibal leans in, and this time Will doesn’t turn away. They kiss. For all his promises of reckoning, Will is gentle. He strokes Hannibal’s face, his neck; leaving blood smeared in the wake. They keep kissing. The taste of Will’s blood is sharp and intoxicating.