Criminal Couture - Chapter 9
After the workshop tour, the murder couple moves to the house for lunch. Will opens the door and is immediately ambushed by the dogs, who jump up around him and lick him silly. Will nearly combusts on the spot when Hannibal joins him, bending down to greet each of them individually. He is also pleasantly surprised when they offer their heads for petting instead of growling at him, as they sometimes do at strangers. The sight of Hannibal fitting so seamlessly into his life makes his heart feel full.
Hannibal walks around his living room like he owns the place. Will envies Hannibal that effortlessness — he could be in a swamp or horse farm, the fluorescent-lit halls of the FBI or under glittery chandeliers in Florence, and still strut around like he belongs there.
Will brings out some wine to have with the food as Hannibal unpacks each Tupperware and lays out the feast on Will’s dining table. While Will is busy pouring, Hannibal goes to fetch cutlery from the kitchen, and he must have some crazy chef intuition because he opens the correct drawer on the first try. He also avoids stepping on the loose floorboard in the living room, and dodges the dog-beds in his way without missing a step.
Ha, that’s weird. Almost like he’s… been… here… before.
Wait.
“Hannibal. Have you already been to my house??”
Hannibal smiles. “It was nice of you to clean up for me. The living room was a tad messier last I visited.”
“What!? When?”
“The day after you visited my home, of course. I had to… plant certain things. In certain places. Just a protective measure, you understand.”
“What the— Hannibal. If I were to look really hard, would I find evidence of dead people in my things?”
Hannibal smiles warmly. “What a clever boy you are.”
Will blushes and preens. “That I am.”
Hannibal pats his head. Will hums appreciatively. They stay like that for a while.
Suddenly, Will frowns. “Whoa, whoa, wait! Don’t think you can distract me by head pats. I’m not done interrogating you.”
Hannibal nods and clasps his hands behind his back. “Very well. What would you like to know?”
Will glares at him. “Did I say you could stop? Get those illegally magical hands back on my head. We can talk while you pet me.”
“I’m starting to think I don’t need to frame you to commit you to an asylum,” Hannibal mutters.
“YOU WERE GOING TO FRAME ME? Wait, I don’t know why I’m acting so surprised. That tracks, actually.”
“Relax, Will. I removed the incriminating items from your home that other time I came here.”
Will sighs. It’s not even shocking at this point. “And when was that.”
“After we officially started dating. I realized I’d much rather cage you with my arms than behind bars.”
“That was sappy and terrible.”
“And yet you’re currently grabbing both my wrists to prevent my hands from leaving your head.”
“It’s impolite to draw attention to your guest’s touch starved-ness, Dr Lecter, you should know better than that.”
“This is your house. I’m the guest.”
“And I would’ve agreed, if you hadn’t pulled out that brand-new skillet and expensive China — that I certainly do not remember purchasing — from my cabinets.”
“I just don’t like dining without my essential kitchen equipment!” Hannibal whines.
“In retrospect, I should’ve been suspicious when my dogs welcomed you with open arms. Or, well, paws.”
“You’d be surprised what wonders a bribe of endless supply of sausages does.”
Will crosses his arms and glares at Hannibal, briefly wondering why he ever went to all that trouble to get a boyfriend. This is what he gets for it: a house full of traitors. “If you’ve seen everything already, why did you make me give you a tour of the workshop?”
“Not everything. The workshop was, indeed, new to me. It was soundly locked on my previous… visits, and in any case I wanted to see it for the first time from your eyes. It is the place that contains the essence of you, after all.”
“Commits multiple B&Es and calls them visits,” Will grouses.
“Commits various murders and calls them research,” Hannibal retorts.
“I— Whatever. Just give me the damn food.”
》 Full fic on AO3
