#carvedeeper

"I wonder when we are ever gonna change." Obviously something was weighing on Mulder's mind. Something that had been bothering him for two decades now. It was always back there, waiting for him to close his eyes at night.

they sit in a room full of art, and the only piece that hannibal cared about was the one sitting across from him. even with the multitude of paintings and sketches hannibal has done of will graham ( hidden away in a separate room from where they are now ), he could not stop himself from wanting more. will had become his muse ; the man who had walked into hannibal's gallery and understood him and his art simply upon looking at it, staring into the parts no one else had noticed. leaning around the easel, brush in one hand and palette in the other, he gazes at will, and does not even try to hide the admiration in his eyes. they've chosen the golden hour for their session, rays leaking through the large windows, drenching will in sparkling sunlight, casting a glow to his features. the only reason hannibal doesn't point out how angelic he looks is because he knew will would get up and leave.

"mulder...?" will's voice is quiet, softer than usual, even given how rattled he'd been. usually once he's AWAKE, once he's grounded, the emotions didn't tend to last. no, from just the way his name is spoken, mulder must know this is coming from will and not his fear. he shifts under the spray of the water to turn towards him and— the water bounces off his body and splashes mulder.

"oh, shit," he laughs, "sorry." will turns off the water, but then it's too late, and it hits him hard, knocking the breath from him. something has him choked up. brows are furrowed. he's naked in mulder's bathtub, cold air creeping over him without the blanket of warm water, and tears are pricking his eyes.

he reads the concern in fox's body language, and he opens his mouth to say something. the words can only follow after another moment. he licks his lips, "everything you believe in," shuffling to sit as closely to mulder as possible, leaning against the edge of the tub, he braces himself to raise his gaze. will looks as tender as he's ever been. "...do you believe FATE?"

another wave of tears threaten him but he keeps them at bay, cracking a smile instead. "this world seems so large. so empty but LOUD." his jaw tenses. this is difficult for him to say. "and then there's you and with you, there's this... clarity." he stares at the tiles now, can't bear to watch mulder watch him as he says this. "and it's not because you'll sit here with me at two thirty in the morning, it's— all of it." all of YOU, he means to say. down to his sunflower seed addiction, he brings something out of will, something precious. even if will can't yet say the word for it.

nausea rises in his chest at thought of his confession, so foreign to feeling connected to another human that to confront this — so powerful, what he feels for mulder, so OVERWHELMING — is a challenge. he could take advantage of kindness. he could indulge in hospitality, even the comfort of another person's body. but to look at mulder now, melt at the sight of him, yearn for days ahead when things are SIMPLER for them both, feel excitement to make him eggs tomorrow morning— that was reserved for fox mulder alone.

"does it make me one of your x-file cases to think there was this gravitational pull to bring us both here?"

Make My Character Feel Loved!

Mulder can't just sit outside of the tub anymore.

In his shirt and boxers, he clambers his way in and pulls Will between his limbs to hold him close to his body. Fox curls around him, giving him his body heat and the comfort of being held. The grounding sensation of another body, another person, another mind beyond his own. Mulder raises his head against the water, pressing kiss, after kiss, after kiss to Will's head, his cheeks, his mouth. All soft. All gentle. All loving.

It's okay Will. I'm right here. I love you.

"There are forces in the universe I'll never be able to explain." He starts, smoothing some of those beloved locks out of the other man's eyes, "And what brought us together is one of those forces. It could be fate. It could be the random series of events that led us to be in the same universe at the same time. It could simply be the desire to find the self in the other."

He brings Will's head to his chest, keeping it tucked carefully so that the water doesn't get in his eyes.

"Whatever it is, I'm so happy you're here. With me. In this tub. At 2:30 in the morning."

It's okay Will. Just don't think about anything else. Let me hold you. Let me help you. I've got you. I've got you.

he likes his flippies, so very minimalist. ( yes, that's what he calls the flip phones. no, that's not standard british slang, it's just him making shit up. ) but when he's using the vestibulan device or someone else's smartphone, his first non-emergent move is always to download tetris and rack up the games like there's no tomorrow. he's a fiend for it. stacking the little blocks just re-racks his brain, somehow; gives him a blank slate against which to plan next moves. especially handy when chas is driving like his house is on fire. he would play other mobile games, but he's been banned from most forms of online gambling ( 100% win rate, thank you synchronicity wave traveling ) and sudoku just bores him.

Send me “💙 “ if you would ship our muses!

Like these two aren't immediately trauma bonding and bound at the hip.

send “☎️” to receive a midnight phone call from my muse

"Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you." To be honest, he knew that Will was probably already awake. It was better that the two keep each other company than stay strung out all night.

"I was uh..." The sound of stubble scratching can be heard, "I was thinking about dogs. ... Yeah, about dogs, but specifically in mythology and in superstition. In Bram Stoker's Dracula the lord of darkness was said to have been able to shift into a dog, or a wolf. And that the image of a black dog is often seen as an omen of death. A grim, I believe they're called.

"... Yeah. And you know the Hound of the Baskervilles? How it was coated in phosphorous? I always thought that was strange. My ex and I read that story together for Halloween one year, going back and forth reading the parts. Would you be into doing something like that? You can be Holmes, if you want. I don't mi- ... huh? Oh, right, dogs."

There's some sounds on the line that sounds like the opening of a fridge.

"Well I don't know how much you know about mythology but there are the classic like Fenrir, the wolf who eats the sun and brings about the apocalypse in Norse belief, and Cerberus who is the three headed dog of the underworld in Hellenistic Polytheism. Can you imagine? A dog, with three heads? That's a lot of mouths to feed." The conversation continues like this, and it's very clear that Mulder has been doing research on this specifically just to tell Will.