Archive of Our Own

Sinatra is horribly overrated.

It's the observation that floats to Hannibal's mind as he takes a seat across from Doctor Alana Bloom. She's attempting small talk- gushing about this restaurant and its many fine qualities- but he's only listening enough to react appropriately. Mainly, he's taking in the surroundings.

It isn't an establishment he's ever visited. Classy but obviously marketed to the middle class of Baltimore society, popular but not revered, Italian but not authentic. Certainly not the destination he would've chosen. They're quite crowded, which does strike him as odd- particularly for a Monday. Then again it is the peak hour for dinner service. The lighting is warm and romantic, as is the music drifting through the building. Or at least, he assumes that was the staff's intention when feeding Old Blue Eyes through the speaker. To Hannibal it makes the scene feel that much more insincere.

By the time they've ordered drinks, it occurs to Hannibal that Doctor Blooms seems a bit...off, tonight. Nervous. She's made-up more heavily than usual, too, and the way she clung to his arm when they walked in had seemed rather forward. He knows, naturally, that she has harbored affections for him for some time. They aren't reciprocated, but he's done little to discourage them over the years. They may one day prove useful to him, after all. Still, he never intended for this to be a date, by any means. Doctor Bloom had offhandedly invited him out to dinner- on a Monday, no less, implying that she had no expectations of staying out late or spending the night- and he'd accepted. Just two colleagues having a meal. It's no matter. If she is to be disappointed, he can still enjoy the evening. Doctor Bloom is a decent conversationalist, at the very least the night will not be boring.

It shifts from being not boring to being decidedly interesting when Alana glances toward the front of the restaurant and grimaces slightly.

She nods in that direction, speaking softly. "You see that guy over there?"

Hannibal turns, following her direction

And there, sitting near the window, is the most breathtaking man he's ever had the pleasure of seeing.

"I do, yes."

She sighs, taking a sip of water. "We work together."

"An agent?" He asks. The man in question is devastatingly beautiful. His suit is a little loose on his body but Hannibal can tell that beneath it lies a landscape of hard planes and soft curves. His dark, silky curls occupy a space between tamed and untamed, as if he styled them then ran his fingers through his hair.

"If Jack Crawford has any say in the matter he will be," she mumbles. "He's a professor at Quantico."

Looks and brains, then. And dining alone. "Perhaps we should say hello."

"What? No!" Her tone attracts his attention, pulling his eyes from the mysterious man near the window back to her.

"Why not? You're friendly with him, aren't you?"

"Well, yes, but I still feel awkward about him seeing me, you know...here. With you."

Hannibal tries to keep his expression neutral. His gaze drifts back to the other man, drawn to him. "You say that the Behavioral Sciences Unit is interested in bringing him to the field. Why is that?"

She chuckles. "You've always had a keen eye for the peculiar, Hannibal," she says, her voice carrying with it a sickening sort of fondness. "Will has a particular combination of divergences that make him very skilled at solving crimes- Overactive Empathy, Overactive Imagination, Overactive...well, most of his thought processes seem to be cranked up to eleven. Aside from his social efficacy, that is."

"How fascinating." Will checks his watch, and yes- there he goes, running his fingers through those curls. He scans the restaurant anxiously before looking to the door.

"Hannibal."

"Hm?"

"You're staring."

Hannibal blinks, turning back to her. "My apologies."

Alana begins speaking of other things. He tries to focus on her words, and on his thoughts when that fails. He can't seem to stop himself from glancing over at Will every few moments. The man is fidgeting, now, still looking around the room like he's gotten lost. Hannibal watches as he pulls out his cell phone, types for a moment, pockets it again.

"Are you even listening to me?"

"I'm sorry, Doctor Bloom, what was that?"

She wrinkles her nose. "That's a bit formal, don't you think? I don't know if I've ever had a date use my last name."

"I wasn't under the impression that this was a date," he lies.

Alana scoffs. "You thought I asked you out to dinner on Valentine's Day as colleagues?"

Ah, that was a surprise. He lets out a slow breath. "It's the fourteenth," he says, the significance of the day suddenly clicking. He never paid much mind to Valentine's Day, as he never celebrated it. If he'd realized, he wouldn't have agreed to spend the evening with Alana.

"Yes, Doctor Lecter, it is. And I thought you wanted to spend it with me."

Will runs a hand down his face, visibly frustrated. A waiter comes to his table, and he waves them off.

"Alana, I'm so sorry. I feel terrible about this misunderstanding, truly," he placates. He's already standing. "Please, at least let me call you a cab."

She frowns up at him. "A cab? You won't even drive me home?"

Will is checking his watch again. Any moment now he'll lose his patience for whatever fool has stood him up and Hannibal will lose his opportunity.

"I wouldn't subject you to such an awkward drive. Really, I insist."

If looks could kill, her glare would put up quite the fight. "You know what? Don't worry about it. I am walking out of here, going down to that club the street, and having some fucking fun tonight."

She grabs her purse, making for the door. "Happy Valentine's Day, Doctor," she spits. "Have fun spending it alone."

He bows his head in an approximation of guilt. The moment the door closes behind her, he straightens his tie and absconds to the restroom. He checks his hair in the mirror, biding his time for a minute or two, and when he emerges he carefully weaves around the tables. When he nears Will's table, he feigns scanning the restaurant for a moment. He makes eye contact with the lovely thing, his eyes narrowed behind oval frames. Hannibal smiles and approaches.

"Will?" he asks.

Will looks him up and down, then nods. "You must be Nigel."

Hannibal smirks. "Guilty as charged."

He takes the seat across from Will, unfastening the button of his suit jacket as he goes. "I'm so sorry that I've kept you waiting," he says, and it's the first honest apology he's made all night. "I don't frequent this area, I hadn't expected traffic to be so hectic."

Will sighs. His mouth twists.

"I'm hoping I'll prove to be worth the wait," Hannibal bargains

And at last, the other man smiles. It doesn't meet those pretty blue eyes, but it's certainly encouraging.

"Hey, it's fine. It happens to the best of us." He runs his fingers through his curls again. Long, pale fingers, decorated with fine scars. "I won't lie, though, for a minute I thought you'd stood me up."

"And I'd have cursed myself for letting you slip away," he says. "You look stunning, Will."

He huffs dismissively, but the smile is growing. "Thank you, so do you." He tilts his head. "Bev sold you short."

"Did she?"

Will nods. "She said that you were a good time, but a bit rough around the edges." He looks Hannibal up and down again, the corner of his mouth quirks upwards. "Look like you clean up okay to me, though."

Hannibal chuckles. "Beverly sold you short, as well."

"Yeah?"

He holds Will's eye. So very pretty, those eyes. Clear blue, with long doe lashes practically bumping against the lenses of his glasses. "She said that you were likely to make a less-than-perfect first impression."

Will laughs. God, his laugh is lovely. "Yeah, that sounds like her, alright."

"Does that mean you're ordinarily 'rough around the edges,' as you put it?"

He shrugs. "I'm on a blind date on Valentine's day for a reason, aren't I?"

"So am I."

"Why is that?"

Hannibal thinks this answer over, choosing his words carefully. "I don't have many opportunities to make connections."

Will frowns at that. "Don't you? I imagine you meet plenty of people, in your line of work."

He blinks. There's something odd in Will's eyes. Something cold and analytical. Has he begun to suspect that something is amiss?

"No one who interests me, then."

"Am I interesting you, so far?"

He smiles. "Yes."

"And what if I don't find you interesting?"

The smile turns to a smirk. "Do you?"

The waiter arrives before Will can respond. When he asks for their drink orders, Will falters for half a beat.

"Tommasi Amarone, please," Hannibal says, and casts a glance to his companion.

Will just nods. "Sure, I'll have the same."

When the waiter leaves, Will looks pleasantly surprised. "I'll be honest- I don't know a damn thing about wine. But you seemed to know what you were talking about."

Hannibal nods in acquiescence, and Will chuckles, seemingly at a loss.

"Sorry, it's just- fuck, I can't stand first dates. It's the small talk, you know? I've never been good at the 'fine, how are you' routine."

For a reason he can't place, Hannibal finds that charming. "I agree. What do you say we move past the pleasantries and into the unknown?"

"Skip the small talk and have an actual conversation?"

Hannibal nods.

"Alright." The cheerful amusement leaks from Will's face, then, leaving him a wicked, cunning creature. Hannibal feels his heart fluttering.

"Let's start here- who are you, really?"

He blinks. "I beg your pardon?"

"You're not Nigel. I saw you over there," he nods to the corner of the restaurant. "With Alana Bloom. Or did you think I hadn't noticed you?"

Ah. "Doctor Bloom is an old friend of mine. I agreed to have dinner with her without romantic intent. And then she pointed you out to me, and I felt that I had to meet you. You were checking the time and ignoring the waitstaff so I assumed your date was running late. The fact that you were watching other guests even after they walked through the door indicated that you didn't know your date's face- a blind date, then. I saw an opportunity, and I took it. I won't apologize."

To his surprise and amusement, Will laughs. "You're out of your mind, you know that?"

"You saw me come in with your colleague, as well as her walking out before we could so much as have a drink; And yet when I introduced myself as your blind date, you played along." Hannibal shoots him a mischievous look. "And you still haven't left your seat. Why?"

The other man lifts his chin. "Maybe I was curious."

Hannibal's pulse flickers. What an appetizing man. Will opens his menu, looking it over as he speaks. "Anyway, I'm guessing that Nigel isn't coming, and anyone who would try a stunt like that is either shockingly desperate, shockingly stupid, or shockingly bored- any one of those sounds more entertaining than dining alone."

"And which am I, by your estimation? Desperate, stupid, or bored?"

Will snorts. "Honey, the way tonight is going, I'm starting to think you're all three." He reaches up, then, and slowly removes his glasses. He pockets them, and when he looks back up at Hannibal, he suddenly feels as though he's been punched in the stomach.

"So, this wine you've chosen- does it pair well with veal?"

-

"How fucking much?! For that kind of money, the tow truck should've been here before the fucker broke down!"

He sighs, pacing on the sidewalk as he takes a long drag of his cigarette.

"Well how long is it gonna be?"

An hour, at least. Fucking Valentine's traffic. Son of a bitch.

Nigel hangs up, kicking the front tire of his now useless Charger. Stupid piece of shit. Well, so much for finally having a good fucking Valentine's Day. Maybe this is his sign, he thinks. His sign to give up on getting back out there, once and for all. Hell, the last time he tried to settle down it nearly killed him.

He checks his watch. He was already late for his blind date to begin with, but he wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon. Scrubbing a hand down his face, he pulls out his phone and shoots a text to Darko's girl.

Nigel: [ Bad news, doll. Car gave out on me again. Tell your buddy that I'll have to take a rain check. ]

He takes one last drag before crushing the cigarette under his heel. He'd been looking forward to tonight, too. The kid Bev was setting him up with sounded like just his type- a little bitchy, with a lot of fight in him, but good for conversation and very easy on the eyes. Smart, too. Some kind of teacher, of something.

Maybe he'd be willing to give Nigel a second chance-

Either way, it probably wouldn't have worked out. Once that damn tow truck comes he'll call a cab and head home. Have a few drinks. Throw himself a little pity party. Fuck, that sounds pathetic.

His stomach growls. He should've been eating pasta with that feisty teacher right about now, and his body fucking knows it. He sees a couple restaurants when he looks around, but they're all packed. No shot of getting a table without a reservation.

A little diner catches his eye. It's small, it's open, and most importantly it looks completely fucking dead.

That'll do.

Tina's Diner, as the sign says, looks like a locally owned joint. He takes a peek behind the counter when he walks in and sees mismatched coffee cups that couldn't have been bought in the past decade. That's always a good sign. He sends a loose grin to the gal behind the counter- Sarah, according to her name tag. She tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and smiles back, telling him to sit wherever he likes. Sweet looking thing. About ten years too young for him, though.

Aside from Sarah and himself, the diner is mostly empty. Fella in the back, cooking up something that smells greasy and mouth-watering. Some old fucker at the counter, nursing a cup of coffee and reading.

And a fucking angel, crashed from heaven and curled up in a booth in the back corner.

Sit wherever? Don't mind if he fucking does. He makes a beeline for that booth. Christ alive, Nigel has to remind himself to fucking breathe just looking at the kid.

Nigel falls into the seat across from him. He's even better up close- smooth pale skin and curved pink lips and dark curls that he wants to get lost in. The angel stares at Nigel's hands where they rest on the table, frowning like he just dropped a dead bird across from his barely-touched mac n' cheese.

"Hello, gorgeous."

His mouth twists.

"There are dozens of unoccupied seats in this building. This is my table. Please move."

"And leave a pretty little thing like you alone on Valentine's Day? How would I sleep at night?"

"Lying down, I imagine."

Nigel laughs at that, slapping the table with his palm. Fuck, this kid's a trip.

His eyes flick up to Nigel's smile. Blue. Baby blue. Damn.

"Why are you interrupting my meal?"

He shrugs. "I like the view."

"There are other tables near windows."

"Not that view, gorgeous."

He frowns for just a moment, then his eyes go wide. Adorable. "Oh."

"So what do you say- can I keep you company for a while?"

The angel seems to think it over for a moment, rubbing his thumbs across the pads of his fingers. After a while, he sticks out a hand across the table. "I'm Adam."

Adam.

Nigel grins, taking Adam's hand and squeezing it as he shakes.

"Nigel."

-

"So, how do you know Doctor Bloom, exactly?"

"I was her mentor."

Will frowns around a mouthful of deep red wine. "Mentor? Oh God, don't tell me you're a psychiatrist."

"Is that a problem?"

"Yes."

Will looks up from his plate at Hannibal. There's a playful twinkle in his eye that makes Hannibal feel oddly daring. "Alright. This Nigel fellow, what line of work is he in?"

The other man shrugs. "Don't know. Bev wouldn't tell me, which probably means it's something I would find unattractive."

Hannibal tilts his head. "You made a comment earlier that implied you knew his career."

"And you were lying through your teeth. I was bluffing." He smirks. "You tell me, Not-Nigel: what sort of man am I missing out on?"

He smothers his amusement in wine and subpar pasta before speaking. "Nigel is a surgeon," he supplies.

"Someone with money, then. And smart. Sounds like it's a shame he didn't show."

Hannibal hums. "Yes, and he uses his surgical skills outside of work, as well."

"Does he?"

"He moonlights as a serial killer, you see." Hannibal grins. "The Chesapeake Ripper."

Will laughs at that. Not just a polite chuckle but an outright laugh. Hannibal feels his blood rush. He has a beautiful smile, even when slightly stained with wine. "I had a date with the Chesapeake Ripper?"

"I'm afraid so."

He thinks that over as he chews. "Well, then it makes sense that he's a surgeon," Will muses. "He must also be meticulous, theatrical, interested in spectacle and pageantry- none of which aligns with how Bev described him. So either his outward persona is a charade, or Nigel is not indeed the most prolific killer of our era."

"Or your assessment of the Ripper is incorrect."

Will chuckles. "You don't know me, but believe me when I say that I'm never wrong about these sorts of things."

Hannibal smiles. "What an arrogant thing to say," he says, but it sounds nearly like a compliment.

"It's only arrogance if I don't have the skills to back it up. I think of it more as being Self-Assured."

"Well, I can't fault you for that. Still, I am sorry that you won't have an opportunity to catch the Chesapeake Ripper this evening."

Will waves the comment away, draining his wine glass. "I suppose I'll have to settle for catching you, instead."

"Hook, line, and sinker," Hannibal says, and flags down the waiter for more wine.

-

"You aren't eating."

Adam shrugs, fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater.

"I'm not putting you off your food, am I? I know I'm not exactly Henry fucking Cavill but I didn't think my mug was that off-putting."

"It's not that. I don't find your face unappealing."

God forbid he lets that glowing compliment go to his fucking head. "Look, the neck tat was something I got when I was pretty fucking far from sober, I'm not in love with it either-"

"I'm depressed, that's all," He admits softly.

Nigel stirs two packets of sugar into his coffee. "Yeah? What's on your mind, gorgeous?"

Adam sighs. He pushes his plate away from himself, staring out the window. "There's a girl who lives in my apartment building," he mumbles. "Beth. She's very pretty, and she's kind to me."

Nigel tries not to let his disappointment show.

"I asked her to spend Valentine's Day with me. I wanted to take her stargazing, have a picnic in the park. She said that she was going out with her friends instead." He picks up one of the empty sugar packets, folding it over until it's a tiny, thick little square. "She invited me to come along, but they were going dancing and I don't like loud places. And I don't really like her friends, either way."

Nigel scoffs. "She must be fucking blind."

Adam frowns. "No, she can see."

His patty melt arrives then, and Nigel winks at Sarah when she sets it down. Sweet kid. He's gonna tip her so hard her head fucking spins. Might as well, he's saving a decent chunk of change eating at Tina's instead of Che-whatever-the-fuck.

"Adam, I'm not-" he chuckles to himself, shrugging his way out of his itchy fucking blazer so he doesn't get grease on it. He loosens his tie while he's at it. "Babe, I'm saying that the only reason someone would turn you down is if they couldn't see your fucking face. Because you're-"

"Gorgeous," Adam finishes, then frowns. "You really think so?"

"Absolutely. Might have to add Deaf to it, too, since you seem like a good guy. And those are hard to find."

Adam smiles, eyes tracing the tattoo on Nigel's neck. "Thank you...No one has ever called me 'gorgeous', before." He nods to himself. "I like it."

Nigel bows his head in thanks before digging in to his meal. Adam finally starts to pick at his mac 'n cheese again. After a few minutes of surprisingly-not-that-awkward silence, Adam speaks again.

"Why are you alone on Valentine's Day?"

"I'm not alone."

Adam huffs. His little quirk of being unfailingly literal seems to annoy him when it's thrown back in that pretty face. "You were, before you inserted yourself into my dinner."

Nigel dips a French fry into his ketchup before popping it into his mouth. "I had a date."

"What happened?"

He nods in the direction of the street. "Car's a piece of shit, that's what fuckin happened. Broke down on my way to the restaurant."

"Oh." Adam looks down at his food. "That's too bad."

Nigel shrugs. "Not too broken up about it. I didn't even know the guy. Just someone my best friend's new girl set me up with."

"A blind date?" Adam pales when Nigel nods. "I don't think I could handle something like that. I don't do well under pressure, especially where new people are involved."

He lifts a brow. "Could've fooled me."

That sweet little smile rises again, Adam's lips unfairly kissable even under the oppressive glow of the overhead fluorescents.

"Hey."

Adam looks up, his eyes falling on Nigel's forehead scar.

"You know, I'm starting to think it wasn't such bad luck, my car breaking down and everything." He grins, leaning closer. "Maybe that was just destiny's way of pointing me in your direction."

A line like that would've killed on anyone else, he's sure of it. Adam practically rolls his eyes.

"I don't believe in destiny. Or luck."

Nigel sighs, looking out the window. "Course not."

"But I like talking to you."

His heart skips a beat. Maybe two. "Happy to hear I'm making your night a bit less miserable, babe."

-

"So," Hannibal says, "am I paying the bill and releasing you at last, or am I holding you hostage for coffee and tiramisu?"

Will chuckles, eyes glittering with warm pleasure. His elbow is on the table, his chin cradled in his palm. Their plates have been empty for quite a while, the two of them instead gorging themselves on fine wine and finer conversation. Hannibal watches his lazy grin fall, his teeth catching his lower lip. Divine. What Hannibal would give to be worrying that lip between his own teeth.

"I probably shouldn't," he replies. His tone is a bit clumsy from the alcohol, and he makes no effort to hide how regretful he is.

"I won't be asking you to split the bill, if that's your concern."

Another smile. "Such a gentleman."

"It's the least I can do. Stealing another man's identity is generally seen as something of a faux-pas, where first dates are concerned."

"That so? I'll make a note of that."

Hannibal's smile is wistful. What an enchanting man. "Well, I suppose you've indulged me enough for one evening. It would be rude to ask for more of your time."

Will narrows his eyes as Hannibal sends for the check. "Meaning that you'd like to?" he prods.

"Your company did not disappoint, Will. I'll make no secret of that."

He grins. "I've enjoyed your company as well, Not-Nigel."

Hannibal tips well when their check arrives, and much sooner than he'd like he and Will are outside the restaurant, lingering on the sidewalk near Hannibal's Bently.

"I suppose this is where I leave you," he forces himself to say, though it aches to say it. "Have a pleasant evening, Will."

Will smiles softly. "Likewise. And- thank you." His breathtaking eyes flare with mischief. "You were very entertaining."

Hannibal smiles back, finding no need to force it. Before he can think better of it, he takes a step closer, smoothly entering Will's personal space. He catches the way the other man's breath falters and it lights his nerves on fire. He stills for a fraction of a moment, letting his warm breath ghost near Will's ear before ducking his head and kissing his cheek. His skin is soft beneath stubble, his cheek flushed with wine and flattery. Just a taste. Something to rest on the back of his tongue. Hannibal couldn't resist.

He moves to step away, and Will catches him by the arm. Will tilts his face upwards, his lips finding Hannibal's. A shiver rolls down his spine when they kiss, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as if he'd been shocked. Will doesn't pull away after the first brush of lips, nor the second, and Hannibal lifts a hand to cup his jaw.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Hannibal is aware that he is kissing a man he's known for a single evening, on the side of the street downtown. The sidewalk is crowded with lonely hearts, most of them drunk, and his nose detects the scent of cigarettes being smoked nearby.

Will makes a soft sound of pleasure against his lips, and they may as well be completely alone.

Their noses brush when Will pulls away, Hannibal's hand holding him in place. Will swallows thickly, breathless when he speaks. "I um-" he breathes out a small laugh. "I don't usually drink wine, I-I think I underestimated how strong it was. I don't know if I trust myself to drive."

Will looks up at him, eyes half-hidden under that dark curtain of lashes. He isn't just flushed, he's blushing. He licks his lips, and Hannibal follows the motion with his eyes as if in a trance.

"Do you... Do you think you could give me a ride?" Will's eyes flick down to Hannibal's mouth. "Back to my place?"

Hannibal pulls him close again as an answer, kissing him much more firmly than before. He echoes the action Will carried out, licking along the swell of those lovely lips. Will sighs.

"I'd be happy to," he murmurs.

"Are you sure? My house is kind of far, it'll take a while."

He looks down at Will and smiles. "Darling, there's nowhere I'd rather go."

-

"More coffee, Darlin?"

Nigel looks up at Sarah, coffee pot in hand. She cleared their plates from the table a while ago, leaving them with only Nigel's cup and an ever-growing pile of pink sugar packets. Adam is just fiddling with his sleeves, finding something to do with his hands.

"You sure you don't want some coffee, gorgeous?"

Adam shakes his head. "I don't drink coffee."

His heart sinks. He can't shake the feeling that Adam is bored out of his mind and is just too polite to say so- though he doesn't seem all that polite.

"Just the check, thanks."

When Adam reaches for his wallet, Nigel holds up a hand. "It's cool, baby, I got it."

"You're sure?"

"Consider it compensation for spending time with me," he says with a wink, and moves to the counter to settle the bill.

He doesn't look back when he heads out, walking straight for the exit. That was nice. Adam's a good kid, and talking to him felt a hell of a lot better than passing out at home. Fuck, that was really nice.

Nigel leans against the side wall of the diner, fishing a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it. The bell over the door rings cheerfully, and Nigel lets his head rest against the brick.

"Nigel?"

He sighs. "Yeah?"

Adam sidles up next to him, standing near the wall but not quite willing to press his sweater to the bricks.

"I thought you left, but then I remembered that you're stranded here."

He shrugs. "Tow truck should be here any minute now."

"I wanted to tell you that I didn't need to be compensated. I would spend time with you for free."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

Nigel smiles to himself, taking a puff of his cigarette and blowing the smoke toward the sky. Most of the stars are drowned out by light pollution, but some of them are still visible. "Say, didn't you say something about stargazing?"

Adam nods eagerly. "I love outer space. It's my greatest passion, it has been since I was little."

"I feel like there's a story there."

He hums. "My dad bought me a telescope when I was eight years old. He taught me how to use it and we stayed up past my bedtime looking at the sky."

Nigel casts him a sidelong glance. He's staring up at the stars, eyes wide and beautiful. "Maybe you could give me a tour sometime."

Adam grins. "Yes. I'd like that."

A horn honking nearby catches his attention. "Shit, the tow truck's here."

"Oh."

The truck driver offers to tow the old piece of shit to a nearby auto shop. They're closed for the night but someone will take a look at it in the morning and tell him the damage then. By the time they're driving off with the Charger, he expects to be alone, but Adam is still there.

"Not waiting up for me, are you?"

Adam chews his lip, arms crossed around his chest. "How...How are you getting home without your car?"

Nigel smirks. "I'll be fine. I'll call a cab."

"Okay."

"Why do you ask?"

Adam runs a hand through his curls, eyes on the ground. "I walked here," he blurts out. "It isn't far to my apartment. If you walked there with me, I could drive you home."

His heart flies to his mouth at that. "Yeah? That sounds good."

"Or, um-"

Nigel lifts a brow. Adam sighs sharply.

"Or...I could give you a ride to the auto shop. In the morning, that is."

He stares at Adam for a moment, his brain struggling to catch up with the other man's words. Once he does, he closes the space between them. Adam's eyes shoot up to Nigel's cigarette, wide and perfect as they watch him pluck it from his lips and lean in.

"Even fucking better."

-

Will parts his lips eagerly when Hannibal delivers a sharp tug to his tempting curls, producing a moan for him to gladly swallow. Hannibal's ribcage is pressed awkwardly to the Bently's center console, his body draped across the width of the front seat in a thoughtless grab for the other man's flesh. Will pulls the knot free on Hannibal's tie, sucking his lower lip into his mouth and nipping it playfully before releasing.

His hand cups Hannibal's jaw, both of them short of breath and flushed. Will smiles, his lips kiss-swollen and wet.

"Come inside," he whispers, and Will may be a siren, because Hannibal is helpless to disobey.

-

They're lucky they don't fucking fall over themselves on their way up to Adam's apartment. The pretty little minx had been completely chaste until they arrived outside his building, and then one innocent kiss set him off like a fucking firework. Not that Nigel was complaining. He's not even convinced Adam would stop if they did trip on the stairs. They might just end up fucking right there, a mess of soft skin and sharp teeth and the hottest sounds he's ever heard in his fucking life.

He's rock hard in his jeans by the time they arrive at Adam's door, still swapping spit like a couple of inexperienced schoolboys. Adam has Nigel's shirt in a death grip, pulling him closer and closer until Nigel's pinning him against the door. Adam gasps when Nigel's cock grinds against his thigh, their lips disconnecting and allowing Adam to finally get some air. Sweet thing is panting like he just ran a marathon, and they've barely fucking started. He's irresistible, pale skin blushing red and pupils blown and hair disheveled- and all of it is Nigel's handiwork.

Adam grabs blindly for the doorknob, wrenching it open and yanking Nigel inside by the front of his shirt.

-

Will's home is...interesting. comfortable but crowded, clean but cluttered. Hannibal manages to form a somewhat mixed opinion of the place before being stripped of all ability to create coherent thought.

Hannibal's back hits the mattress with a small amount of protest. It's a much firmer bed than he's accustomed to, but somehow he believes he'll be quite comfortable in it. 

Will is straddling his hips before he can register much else, his warmth and weight causing him to groan softly and grind against him. Will's jacket lands on the rug in a heap, his tie and belt rapidly following. In the back of his mind, Hannibal pictures the staggering number of animals currently milling about in the front yard coming inside and ruining the garments.

Fingers grip at his chin, lifting it until Hannibal is propping himself up on his hands. Will's spine arches when he bends forward to crush their mouths together once again, his hips rolling all the while. Hannibal reaches around and gropes Will's ass hungrily, pulling a sound of surprise and arousal from the man in his lap and forcing their clothed cocks together. His other hand clutches at Will's thigh, squeezing as he catches Will's tongue and suckles at it. Will shivers. Hannibal feels a swell of pride.

It's an understatement to say that Hannibal is a man who enjoys maintaining control. He's very careful to craft a persona that commands all situations, however subtly, that he may encounter. As such, it's an entirely new experience when Will clambers out of his lap, starts plucking at the buttons of a now wrinkled white shirt, and says "Take your clothes off." in a tone that leaves no room for argument.

Ordinarily, Hannibal responds to being challenged with violence. But the sound that leaves him is not, by any stretch of the imagination, aggressive. His hands are fumbling with his belt buckle in seconds, his blood rushing in his ears.

It clearly doesn't escape Will's notice. "Good boy," he purrs, and Hannibal bites his lip.

Will arches a brow, smile growing to show teeth. "Oh, you're fun."

Hannibal falls back into Will's bed the moment he's naked, drowning in the distinct, spine-tingling feeling that he's stumbled into much more than he'd bargained for.

The excitement that comes with the realization doubles when Will pulls a bottle of lube from his bedside drawer. Hannibal's cock twitches in anticipation, and Will reclaims his place astride his thighs. He indulges himself when Will plasters their bodies together, hands roaming and cataloging the other man's dips and curves, the lean muscle hidden beneath flawless pale skin.

Once he's finished ravaging Hannibal's mouth until he's dizzy, Will begins to kiss his way downwards. His wet, warm, supple mouth trails along Hannibal's neck, pausing to suck a deep bruise into his throat. The path winds past Hannibal's collarbones, drifting ever closer to his pectorals. Will glances up from his task, meeting Hannibal's eye. He winks, and wraps his lips around Hannibal's nipple, tongue curling.

Hannibal arches into it with a deep groan.

-

"Oh God, Nigel-"

Nigel steals the rest of that sentence from Adam's sweet lips with another sloppy kiss. Adam writhes beneath him, mewling into his mouth as Nigel thumbs at his nipples. He's so sensitive, it's hot as hell and it's doing fucking wonders for his ego. Blunt nails claw restlessly at his shoulders, begging for something to hold him down.

That's something he can definitely fucking handle. He pulls back just enough to grab Adam's wrists, pinning him to the bed with a wolfish grin. Adam's gasps, and he struggles in that half-hearted way that Nigel is experienced enough to recognize. Testing Nigel's strength. He bites his lip, pressing closer. Nigels knee is slotted between Adam's legs, giving some much-appreciated friction to the erection currently straining in his cute little khakis.

"Like that, gorgeous?" He huffs, and Adam nods, his dark curls bouncing in his eagerness. Fucking precious.

Nigel takes a moment to take him in, Adam blushing even darker under the attention. His sweater is pushed up his torso, giving Nigel an eyeful of the sparse hair trailing down his stomach, his perky pink nipples, the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He ruts against Nigel's thigh again, impatient and perfect.

His grip tightens around Adam's rushing pulse when Nigel kisses his neck. He sucks a patch of flesh into his mouth, smiles around it when Adam tips his head back in pleasure and exposes himself further.

"Let's get you out of these clothes- what do you say?"

Adam stares at his mouth for a moment, taking in a few shallow breaths, and then he's pulling his sweater over his head and letting his shirt join it in a neat heap on the floor.

Nigel's down to his boxers by the time he notices Adam fumbling with the button on his trousers, his fingers oddly clumsy. He's trembling.

"Don't pass out on me, babe. Fucking breathe."

Adam says nothing, hurriedly kicking his way out of his trousers.

"Hey."

His cheek is hot to the touch when Nigel cups his face. Nigel tries to make eye contact, but he hasn't been able to do that all evening so he settles for Adam staring at his scar.

"I'm serious, gorgeous- you okay?"

Adam smiles, and the relief that spills off Nigel's shoulders has him smiling back. He turns his head in Nigel's hold, pressing a kiss to his weathered palm.

"I'm alright," he says. "I'm just excited, that's all. I haven't had sex with anyone in a few years, and you...I think you're very attractive, Nigel."

Nigel kisses him again, takes him by the wrist and pulls him to the bed. "Well, I'll try to make it worth the wait," he purrs.

Adam lies across the sheets, and Nigel looms over him, kissing his lazy way down his body. When he reaches Adam's waistband, Nigel nips at his hip bone, smothering his grin against the skin when Adam yelps.

"Now," he says, hooking his thumbs into Adam's boxers. "You just lay back, and let me take care of you, yeah?"

Adam answers by lifting his hips, allowing Nigel to pull his boxers down and toss them away. Adam's cock is so fucking appetizing that Nigel forgets how to think for a handful of seconds- hard and twitching and fucking huge. Was this kid made in a fucking lab?

Nigel licks a slow stripe up Adam's cock, lapping at the head when he arrives. Adam grips at the sheets with a soft whine, his hips bucking greedily for more. He sprays one hand on Adam's hip in response, gently holding him still, and slowly begins to take Adam into his mouth.

"Oh," Adam sighs, his knuckles going white where he clutches the sheets. "Oh, Nigel- you are...ah- y-you're so-"

-

"-So fucking tight," Will growls, and Hannibal moans helplessly. He'd fingered Hannibal well, but impatience had gotten the better of both of them, and the pain of being stretched on Will's cock is a blinding supplement to the pleasure he's experiencing. "God, how long has it been since you got fucked, huh?"

Will bottoms out, and Hannibal can't seem to make maintain his composure. He moans, gripping the other man's shoulder for dear life. Will smirks. "Too long, I'm guessing."

Hannibal's legs wrap around Will's waist, and when he rolls his hips his cock sinks even deeper. Hannibal's eyes nearly roll back in his head.

Will grabs a fistful of Hannibal's hair, tugging his head back until their lips can connect in a loose, uncoordinated kiss.

"That's okay," he says, driving his cock against all the spots that make Hannibal nearly drool with pleasure.

"You just let Daddy give you what you need."

Hannibal can almost feel his pupils dilate. Once the haze of arousal has left his mind, he will likely be ashamed of his behavior. In the moment, though, Hannibal moans Will's name, moving his hips to meet Will's thrusts.

"You like that?"

Well, if the shame is too great when he at last finds clarity he could always slit his throat. All that feels important here and now is the way Hannibal almost came when Will referred to himself in that way.

"Yes. God, yes."

"You want to be a good boy for Daddy?" Will asks, growling into his ear. Hannibal shivers.

"Yes, Will."

Hannibal's hips start bucking desperately when Will stops cold, all but begging for more.

"What was that?"

Hannibal bites his lip, taking a breath. "Yes...Daddy."

The next thrust nudges his prostate. and Hannibal moans loudly.

"That's good," Will huffs. "That's...That's very fucking-"

-

"-good! Oh god, Nigel, that feels so good- mm!"

Nigel looks up at him through lidded eyes. He's biting down on his fist, eyes closed in ecstasy. Nigel tries to swallow him deeper, to take him all the way to the root. It's been a long fucking time since he's sucked someone off, though. He settles for stroking the length that he can't quite take, the excess saliva leaking from the corners of his mouth slicking the way for his hand. Adam doesn't seem to mind, though.

His thighs are shaking, his mouth a constant stream of praises and gasps of Nigel's name. He's close.

Nigel swallows around his cock, pressing his tongue to the underside, and Adam keens.

"N-Nigel, I- ha, I'm going to- oh my god, oh my god-"

It's pretty hard to look smug with a mouth full of cock, but Nigel gives it the old college try. He moans greedily around Adam, doubling down and digging his nails into his thigh.

For a heart-stopping second, Adam is frozen. Silent, still. And the next moment he's a live wire. He jolts in Nigel's hold, hips bucking as he cums onto his tongue. Nigel sucks him through it, swallowing and keeping him surrounded where Adam tangles his fingers into Nigel's hair and screams with pleasure. Nigel tries to savor every sound he hears.

"Shut the fuck up down there!"

Almost every sound.

"You shut the fuck up!" He shouts back at the ceiling. Adam's pissant upstairs neighbor- who's clearly just pissed because he couldn't manage to get his cock wet on Valentine's Day- stomps hard just above them. Nigel's about to tell him exactly where he's gonna shove that fucker's foot if he doesn't mind his own God damn business, but then Adam is tugging at his hair and pulling him up the bed.

Adam's tongue keeps him quiet, for now. Sweet thing's still coming down from the high as they kiss, his hands trembling and his heart pounding so hard Nigel can fucking feel it knocking into his own when they press together.

He groans low when Adam wraps a soft hand around his cock. Adam falls into a rhythm almost immediately, steady but gentle, pausing every few strokes to thumb at the slit or sweep his palm over the head. All the while, his onslaught of dizzying kisses never ends.

"Adam," he murmurs against the other man's lips, and Adam just moves to press wet kisses into Nigel's neck. "Adam, fuck-"

The sound he makes is embarrassingly high when Adam pulls his hand away. He almost misses the request spoken against his throat.

"Lie back, please."

He does so. trying to clear his fucking head for a moment. He can't seem to manage it, the only thing on his mind is Adam.

"Are you comfortable?" Adam asks, swinging a leg over Nigel's thigh.

Nigel laughs. "Baby, I don't think I've ever been more comfortable than I am right now."

Adam smiles, eyes fixed on Nigel's chest. He reaches out, pets the hair there slowly. "That's good."

His touch drifts back downwards, one finger trailing up his leaking cock. Nigel sighs to keep from mewling when Adam resumes his previous pace.

"I don't think I want to have penetrative sex with a man I just met," Adam confesses, and Nigel's cock throbs at the very mention of fucking Adam. "I don't generally enjoy oral, but since you did it for me, it's fair-"

"No," Nigel blurts, struggling hard to find his fucking head and actually think with it while he's at it. "D-don't- Fuck, Adam- don't do anything you don't wanna do. You can finish me like this if that's what you're comfortable with, I- I really don't fucking mind."

Adam smiles again, watching Nigel's cock glide through the tunnel of his hand with a lazy sort of fascination that actually makes him feel fucking shy- Christ, when was the last time he felt shy? What is this boy doing to him?

"Okay," he whispers, and Nigel sighs when Adam cups his cheek with his free hand and guides him into another long, heated kiss.

It doesn't take long for Nigel to start flinching at Adam's touch, his stomach clenching and his muscles going taut. Adam is just so attentive- one hand working his cock while the other skates along the flesh of his inner thighs, ghosts over his scars, plays with his chest hair. And his mouth, Adam hasn't gone fucking second without kissing him somewhere, traveling from his lips all the way down to his nipples before trailing back up. By the time he's coming, spilling over Adam's hand with a choked gasp of his name, Nigel is clinging to his back like he's fucking lost at sea.

And Adam- lovely, gorgeous Adam with his big blue eyes and his soft little smile- Adam holds him fast, kissing his jaw while he shakes like a damn virgin.

"Did you enjoy that?" Adam whispers in his ear, and Nigel's heart flutters.

He's so fucked.

-

"Yeah, just like that."

Hannibal throws his head back, moaning as much at the slight burn in his thighs as he is the pleasure striking him like lightning. Will's earlier assumption was correct, as all of them have been. Hannibal hasn't been fucked like this in far too long. He rides Will's cock, the other man's hands gripping his thighs and guiding his hips and squeezing greedy handfuls of his ass. Every place Will touches seems to buzz with energy, as if his body recognizes some electric potential in his touch. It's frightening. It's beautiful. It's new. So much of this evening is new.

Will smirks up at him, taking in his debauched state with obvious pleasure. "You look so good like this."

The praise warms him. Hannibal sighs blissfully, grinding the head of Will's cock against his prostate.

"That's good," Will breathes, eyes slipping shut. "That's fucking perfect."

"Thank you Daddy," Hannibal whispers, and he's momentarily shocked with himself. He blames the odd happiness in his chest on his mounting pleasure, tries to insist that it's nothing more than sexual. It's a side effect of the submissive headspace, making him feel so comfortable and safe in Will's arms. His increasing certainty that Will wants the best for him, that he cares for him, that Hannibal cares for him in return- he's been swept away in the moment, that's all it is. Lost on the current of this bizarre night. 

It doesn't change the fact that he goes eagerly when Will sits up, holding Hannibal steady in his lap, and says "Come here." Doesn't change the way he moans into Will's mouth when they kiss, how the motion of Will's hips has a bone-deep pleasure building at the base of his spine. It doesn't change the way Hannibal says "Please, Daddy," and holds Will close, or how spectacular his orgasm is when Will finally strokes his leaking cock.

Will isn't far behind, releasing inside of Hannibal and gripping his hips hard enough to leave prints. His forehead falls against Hannibal's, sharing hot, heavy air. Outside, there are paws nudging the front door and a few scattered barks seeking attention. Will laughs, pressing one long, lingering kiss to Hannibal's lips before patting his thigh.

"Two seconds," He says, and Hannibal falls out of his lap and into bed.

Hannibal watches Will, his features softened in the darkness, as he walks across the house toward the front door. He really is beautiful. Hannibal finds himself tracing the curve that lies at the base of his spine, the shape of his calves as he walks, the shift of his muscles when he lazily stretches his arms. His fingers itch with an urge to draw, an urge to kill, and a near insurmountable urge to touch.

His home smells of dog fur, and sawdust, and fire. The bed is warm. The floor is cold. Will is beautiful.

Seven dogs come clambering in from the night when Will opens the door, tails swishing and claws clicking on the wood. One of them makes a beeline for the bed, jumping onto the mattress and eagerly smelling Hannibal. Will hisses, snapping his fingers and pointing to the floor, and the dog hops obediently to the ground. Will smiles, a wide pretty thing that makes his eyes sparkle. His curls are wild, surrounding him like a halo. So very beautiful.

"Sorry about that," he says, making his way back to the bed. "I guess I should've asked if you were an animal person, huh?"

Hannibal smiles back, his chest going tight. "Do you believe I would have answered truthfully?"

Will laughs, crawling his way up the bed to loom over him. Hannibal welcomes it when Will kisses him again.

"That was...really, really good," he says, and Hannibal nods.

Will narrows his eyes, still grinning. "It was good for you, too, right?"

Hannibal kisses the corner of Will's mouth. "Yes. Very."

Will chuckles, moving to nose at Hannibal's jaw. "I thought so, but I try not to presume."

Hannibal reaches up, cards his fingers through Will's curls. He can't remember the last time he felt so comfortable with another person. They've only known each other a matter of hours, and yet Hannibal wants nothing more than to curl up here, in Will's bed, and never leave.

He freezes. His heart drops.

It occurs to Hannibal, then, that he is in very real danger of falling in love with this man.

"You need anything?" Will asks, playfully nipping at his earlobe. "Drink? A midnight snack? You can use my shower, but the water pressure is-"

"I believe I should be going now, actually," Hannibal interrupts, though it pains him terribly to say it.

Will sighs, hot breath ghosting over his neck. He doesn't pull away.

"...You could stay. I- I want you to stay."

Oh, he aches to stay. It's exactly why he can't.

"That's...very generous of you, but all the same-"

Will pulls back then, and the air around him feels freezing without the other man's presence. "Yeah. Yeah, no, I get it."

"Tonight was wonderful, though. Truly."

"Yeah." He pushes his curls away from his face, blowing out a breath. "It was. Um, thanks."

Hannibal pulls on what clothes feel worth the effort, gathering up the rest over his arm. When he moves to take his leave, Will joins him near the door.

"Hey."

"Yes?"

Will chews his lip, looking every bit like he wants to make Hannibal come back to bed. It would kill Hannibal to refuse him, but a part of him does want Will to try.

"You know, I never actually got your name."

Hannibal smiles, showing his teeth one last time. "Well, I suppose I'll have to leave you wanting for more."

Will laughs. Yes, Hannibal is very much in danger of falling in love.

"You certainly will," he says. "Happy Valentine's Day, Not-Nigel."

Hannibal nods to him, his lips buzzing with the need to kiss him. "Happy Valentine's Day, Will."

-

Nigel is woken from a very nice dream by a sudden movement beside him. Scares the shit out of him, until he sees that messy head of curls and remembers what the fuck happened the night before.

"Morning, baby," Nigel purrs. reaching out to pull Adam back into his arms.

"I slept through my alarm," Adam says. He springs from the bed in a panic, immediately rooting through his closet. "I'm late for work! I'm never late for work- My boss is going to be angry with me, and I'll have to skip breakfast, and-" he spins on a dime, looking at Nigel with eyes wide as dinner plates. "Your car. I was supposed to drive you to the shop before work, I'm so sorry-"

Nigel's already striding across Adam's bedroom, pulling him into his arms. "Easy, easy. It's alright. People are late for work all the fucking time, you're not gonna get in trouble for doing it once."

Adam is balling his hands into fists, over and over again. "But, your car."

He doesn't seem like the kind of guy who would appreciate a mouth full of morning breath, so Nigel presses a kiss to his forehead. "I'll take an Uber to the shop, don't worry about me."

Adam smiles up at him for just a moment before returning to his task, buzzing around his apartment like mad, getting dressed and gathering his things. Nigel throws his clothes back on, ready to slip out and let Adam get on with the rest of his life. Put last night firmly into the category of 'Good Fucking Memories' and leave it at that.

Adam catches him on his way out the door, though.

"Nigel, where are you going?"

Nigel smirks at him over his shoulder. "Heading out, babe. Thanks for the company last night, you were fucking fantastic."

"Oh. Well, thank you. So were you."

He nods, burying that compliment deep in his chest.

"When can I see you again?"

Nigel freezes. "You wanna do this again?"

"It doesn't have to be the same, but I'd like to spend more time with you. And have sex with you again. Soon, preferably, if you'd like it to be soon."

He looks Adam up and down. He's rubbing his fingers again. He's dressed smartly but his curls are still wild from sleep and sex, and there's a pretty pink hickey peeking out above his collar.

Yeah, he's fucked.

"Here."

Nigel fishes an old receipt out of his jeans pocket, jots down his phone number, and leaves it on Adam's coffee table. "You wanna see me again, just shoot me a text and I'll come running."

Adam grins. "Okay. Have a good day, Nigel."

He's in the auto shop about a half-hour later, arguing with the mechanic about the cost of fixing his piece of shit fucking car when his phone buzzes. It's a text, from an unknown number.

??? [  Hello, gorgeous. ]

-

Hannibal is trying very hard to keep from pacing. Any moment now, his life as he knows it is going to be altered- for better or for worse.

He still wasn't sure what he was thinking, agreeing to this. Love is known to make reasonable men stupid, he supposes.

Perhaps it was because in the weeks since meeting Will, Hannibal's thoughts dwelled on little else. Perhaps it was because it felt like a sign from fate, Agent Crawford coming to Hannibal of his own volition out of the blue like that. Perhaps it was simply because he hoped it would make Will laugh.

Whatever the reason, Hannibal circled the office, observing the evidence board on the wall. Eight missing girls. This Shrike fellow certainly was having a busy start to his year.

The door opens, and Hannibal tries to quiet the racing of his heart.

"Alright, let's jump right into it," Jack Crawford says, shutting the door behind them. Hannibal takes a breath. Dog hair, and sawdust.

"Will, I'd like you to meet the psychiatrist who will be assisting with the Shrike's profile: Doctor Hannibal Lecter."

Hannibal turns, then, responding to his cue. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to resist grinning like a fool.

Will's eyes are wide behind his glasses, a fetching blush flying to his cheeks the moment he sees him. He's only surprised for a moment, and then his eyes narrow in amusement. Clever, clever boy.

"Doctor Lecter," he says slowly, acknowledging him with a polite nod.

Hannibal can hardly contain his delight. "You must be Will Graham."

Will grins, quickly reaching up to remove his glasses.

"Guilty as charged."