As he turned to turn the machine off and then back to her, her eyes sparked as she realized his intention. She slid her arms when he moved them, bracing her hands behind him and then hopping up as he grabbed her legs to make it easier for him to lift her. One of her hands braced on the table when he set her down, then moved to pull her hair aside when he began kissing across her jawline. It all happened rather quickly, before she could really think any of this through, but if she was being honest she didn’t really want to.

A soft whimper escaped her as he sucked on her neck, progressing to a moan at the pressure of his teeth. Her hands moved to pull at his clothing, pushing him off just enough to peel his shirt off. She took a moment to look him over before she ran a hand over his chest, up to cup his face. She ran a thumb over his scar, her eyes lifting to look into his before her hand slid back into his hair and pulled him into a kiss.

𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐏𝐓 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 when she pulled his shirt off; the feeling was followed by a coupling of dread and lust. Finally, he felt pleased when her wandering hands avoided the large scar across his abdomen altogether and instead explored his face before settling on the back of his head.

Will melts into her kiss, allowing his tongue to move expertly over her own, hoping to draw another moan from her mouth. Nimble fingers, unbutton and unzip his own jeans before moving on to hers, he deviates from there once they unfasten and he snakes his eager hands up her blouse.

The touch was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Her face moved as he directed it, looking up at him even as she slowly continued. “Or there’s the Everglades…” He kissed her and she didn’t try to talk through it, or push him away. After a moment, in fact, she reciprocated it, her eyes fluttering shut and her teeth nibbling a little on his bottom lip as he pulled away. He lingered there, quiet for a moment as if awaiting her reaction.

Suddenly the toaster oven chimed and she started a bit, looking up at him and almost giggling, “The garlic bread’s done.” She tried standing up again, this time not hesitating in grabbing his arms for support. “I’m starving.” From her tone, and the way she looked over him, it no longer seemed like she was talking about food.

𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋’𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑. Without so much as a glance at the toaster oven, he reaches back instinctively and switches it off. The bread would have wait (burn). His hands return to Starling, her grasp only holding him somewhat. He decides then that he wants her to hold him completely.

He takes her arms and hangs them over his shoulders, then bends again, this time hooking his hands behind her knees and lifting her up so that her legs wrap around his waist. He carries her over to the edge of the table, setting her down as he places a quick peck on her lips then trails a line of kisses down her neck.

She snorted, “What inconvenience? You’ve got a boat and you’re only a couple miles from the Atlantic current. It’d take you less than two hours to make me disappear.” Her filter was slowly disappearing, every thought in her head spilling out, and that was treacherous territory to navigate. “You’re right, though. Probably should sit down.”

She seemed reluctant to let go of him, but eventually did, moving to spin her chair around and sit down in it so she could face him and the toaster oven. “The blood would be a bit of a mess,” She said softly, almost entirely to herself. “But some peroxide and elbow grease, wouldn’t be too much. Hell, this kitchen could use a good cleaning. Everyone always thinks bleach but…” She made a scoffing noise. “That leaves residue. Peroxide breaks blood down at the cellular level.”

𝐒𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 and he finds it attractive, more than he should. Will frowns and his brows knit, though his eyes focus on Starling, as she details a quick and easy clean up of a crime scene.

Before he realizes it, Will is stretching out his hand and letting his fingers brush lightly along her soft jawline. He tilts her head upward till they’re eye to eye again. If he’s read all her clues correctly, then a kiss from him would be more than welcome.

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘; with its cobblestone streets, plethora of fine arts and beautifully severe architecture. It was unlike anything Will had ever imagined and now with their new life underway in the city, he found himself angling to carve out an identity for himself.

In the meantime, he kept himself busy with his hobbies and searches for potential job roles he could fill. Hannibal had virtually hit the ground running, as Dr. Roman Fell, curator for the Capponi Library. The job suited him fine, though Will found the social requirements of his husband’s job banal.

Having just returned from one of those social requirements, terribly emotionally drained and on edge, Will ambled toward their shared liquor cabinet to help himself to a healthy amount of whiskey. He filled his glass to about half way, before downing the contents immediately, his eyes trained on the back of Hannibal’s head, whom is engrossed in a text while sat at one of his comfortable chairs. Will poured himself another helping, gulping it down in much of the same fashion, before setting the glass down in the cabinet.

He walked over to his husband then, scanning him briefly before pulling the text from his hands and tossing it on the floor. His fingers snaked their way into Hannibal’s hair, slow yet deliberate, before stopping abruptly. Will closed his hand over a good amount of his husband’s locks, then pulled the strands with unmistakable voracity.