Fandom: Red Dragon/The Silence of the Lambs/Hannibal

Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham

Rating: R/NC-17

Beta: Malakai_Amlug (thank you very much)

Summary: Sometimes running is not possible as the past catches up with you.

Notes/Warning: This is a slash story which means that it features two grown up men in love with each other and physically expressing this emotion in various forms. If you are in any way or degree homophobic, disgusted, disturbed, feel threatened or weirded out by such a relationship, please do not read any further and don’t write me any stupid e-mails to preach about the wrongs or rights of homosexual relationships.

Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are by no means mine and belong to Thomas Harris. If you want to have some picture as a guideline for what these guys actually look like I would strongly suggest watching the movie versions of the books, which were done by DeLaurentis Pictures. As for the musical help I had with this story. The chapter titles and the paragraphs of lyrics in each chapter are songs composed and performed by Placebo. Therefore they are not mine either. I am not making any money with this and purely do it for my own amusement and entertainment.



CHAPTER FOURTEEN - Sleeping with Ghosts


“It seems it’s written
but we can’t read between the lines”


The air was fresh and smelled of the rain that had drenched everything for the last couple of hours. There was an uncharacteristic silence as everyone was still inside their homes and even the wildlife was still staying in their shelters.

Hannibal sat on a garden chair on the terrace. He enjoyed the cool evening breeze and the for once acceptable temperature. The glass sliding door behind him was open and allowed fresh air to waft into the stuffy room. It helped to clean out the room from the smell of cooking but it also cleared the stuffy scent from their lovemaking.

Will had fallen asleep soon after their mutual climax. He had been exhausted from all the stress and exertion of the day. For the first time since Hannibal had taken to watching the blonde, his face had softened when falling asleep, no trace of fear from a nightmare. It was a sure sign that the younger man was finally coming to terms with himself and that he was accepting his inner demon as well.

The willingness with which Will absorbed everything that Hannibal added to their relationship was a joy to behold. It seemed like the blond was a dried out sponge who now soaked up all of Hannibal’s attention and tenderness.

Once the blonde had fallen asleep Hannibal had left the younger man lying on the couch. He had gone upstairs to Will’s bedroom and headed for the shower in the adjoining bathroom. Although the smell of Will and sex was not an unpleasant one, the smell of his own sweat was not really something that he was overly fond of.

The room was cool and dark because of the drawn curtains. They had forgotten, though to close the window when the rainstorm had started and now the floor beneath the window as well as the curtains were drenched in water. The bed and the clothes from the unlaundered basket where an untidy heap because of the wind that had blown through the room.

Hannibal picked the clothes items up that were lying in his path and put them back in the basket. He found a clean bath towel at the bottom of the basket and took it with him to the bathroom. The floor was a tad clammy in the bedroom.

The bathroom still looked like it did when Will had abandoned it. The shower curtains were drawn back only partially and the bathroom floor had water stains on the polished tiles where the water from Will’s body had pooled.

Turning on the shower, Hannibal checked if the water was cool and, after correcting the temperature, stepped under the warm spray. He closed his eyes and turned the face towards the shower head, letting the cleansing spray hit his face.

He could feel the accumulated grime and sweat run down his body together with the water from the shower. But water alone was not enough to get rid of all the dirt. Hannibal turned away from the spray and cracked his eyes open to scan the shower cubicle for soap or some lotion to clean his body.

In the corner stood a see-through plastic bottle with a worn paper label on the front. The many showers had turned the paper wrinkly and grayish but it was still possible to read what was written on the label. There was the picture of a coconut and the name “Rosalia’s’.”

He picked up the bottle and flipped the cap open. The smell that greeted him was pure Will and he thought about the pleasant smell of the lotion combined with the younger man’s musk.

The bottle was almost empty and he decided to get a new one as soon as possible.

Since this was the only soap that was to be found in the cubicle, Hannibal poured some of it onto his torso and started to rub the white cream into his skin and over his stomach and lower abdomen. Four more helpings of the lotion were needed to soap his arms and legs as well and then he turned back to the shower spray and let the water wash the suds down from his body.

There was no shampoo in the shower and Hannibal just soaked his hair with the water cleansing them from the most dirt and sweat.

He switched the shower off and stepped out of the cubicle. Hannibal picked up the bath towel he had deposited on the wash basin and shook it out to open the terry cotton cloth. With efficient swipes he dried his body.

On his way from the bathroom he dropped the used towel into the basket of dirty clothes and padded through the cool bedroom and down the corridor to the stairs that led down.

Will was still the way he had left him. The blonde was curled up and his soft exhales were almost imperceptible. Hannibal stopped next to the couch and watched the younger man sleep before he took his clothes from the couch table. Stepping into the trousers he decided that he would look into the fridge and get some wine.

He zipped the pants and buttoned the little button on top close. Hannibal strolled to the kitchen. On the way there he slipped his shirt on and buttoned the bottom buttons close. The air was much cooler and lighter now that the rain was over. The biggest problem had not been the heat but the high humidity that had felt like a weight pressing down on everything.

Hannibal opened the door of the refrigerator and scanned the contents. On top of the top shelf was a rack for beverages and on there was another bottle of the wine they had had with the fish. It was a fruity white wine with a bouquet of apricots and slight traces of nutmeg. He had to go to the delicatessen and compliment the owner for the good recommendation he had made.

He took a small knife and cut off the plastic wrap around the cork of the bottle. Opening the drawer with the cooking tools, he took out the corkscrew. Hannibal uncorked the bottle and set the cork aside. It was a shame that white wine did not crystallize like red wine did.

Hannibal poured himself a glass and then corked the bottle again. He put it back into the fridge but this time he had to put it in the small larder with the milk and the orange juice bottle on the inside of the door.

Picking up the glass of wine, he crossed the living room and opened the glass sliding door that lead out to the terrace. The sky outside was of a dove grey and there were swipes of a lighter grey. Everything had a fresh look as if the rain had washed the colors of the plants and houses outside.

He stepped outside and at once the hem of his pants was drenched in the water that had puddled on the wooden boards of the terrace. The wood was slick but still warm from being heated up the whole day.

The chairs were all wet but Hannibal saw the folded tablecloth under the chair next to the sliding door. The wind had apparently torn it from the table and it had gotten caught under the wooden furniture. Setting down the glass of wine, Hannibal picked the cloth up and folded it up.

He put it on the seat of the chair and sat down on it. At least it was not that wet. He picked up the glass again and sipped at it. The wine was too cold to unfold its flavor properly. He would have to adjust the temperature of the fridge later on.

Settling back, Hannibal watched the early evening. He felt calm and content with the pace and the direction things were going. Hannibal spent the time until Will’s awakening relaxing.


“These clouds we’re seeing
they’re explosions in the skies”


The sound of padding feet from the inside of the cottage heralded the approach of the younger man. There was movement in the corner of his left eye and then Will passed him by, taking a seat on the wet chair next to him. Will grimaced slightly as the cold wetness was soaked up by the cloth of his pants and the fabric started to cling to his skin, but he did not move.

The younger man looked a little bit bedraggled with his hair tousled and sticking up in odd ways. Bed hair.

A yawn split his face and Will leaned forward, arms crossed on the table in front of him, head resting on top. His eyes were slightly puffy from sleep. He only wore his now come-stained trousers, which were loosely tied up and hanging dangerously low on the blonde’s hips.

The bare chest and upper torso allowed Hannibal to see the imprint of his teeth on Will’s shoulder. With time the marks would fade but at this moment they were a temporary, additional mark of Hannibal’s claim on the younger man. Just like the scar on his lower abdomen and the scar on his face.

Watching Will sitting comfortably close to him, Hannibal was convinced that, were the former FBI profiler a cat, he would be purring with content. The older man reached out to the resting head and carded his fingers through the sweat-soaked curls.

The only reaction to this was a slight movement of the head – leaning into the caress – and the blue eyes glittering through the lowered eyelashes.

“It’s no game.” The voice was hoarse and it sounded more like a croaking than real speech.

But Hannibal had understood it none the less. He did not say anything to confirm Will’s statement. It was not on him to reassure the blonde. The younger man had to be convinced about it without any influence or manipulation from Hannibal’s side. With time Will would understand where they were heading but for now he would continue to question the direction.

The hair felt still soft although they were sticking together in thicker strands from the sweat that had started to dry. Hannibal twisted a strand between his fingers, rubbing the sweaty hair until it was parted into thinner strands.

Letting go of the hair, he rested his hand on the table and looked from Will to the garden behind the blonde. It was not a very big garden but there was a gigantic palm right outside the fence and the walls and fence were overgrown with passion flowers and bougainvillea. The bright blossoms of the pink bougainvillea radiated in the grayish-ness of the rainstorm aftermath.

“The passion flowers always remind me of lion fish.” Will’s comment was contemplative. “When I came here and searched for a place to live I saw the garden with the passion flowers and knew that this would be where I was going to stay.”

Hannibal closely watched the younger man’s face as Will revealed something of his past. It was a sign that the other was slowly getting more comfortable with himself. It was not typical for Will to think about his past. Some more time and more tutoring from Hannibal and he would even be able to talk about his past in Baltimore and Florida.

The blonde head turned towards Hannibal and the puffy eyes focused on the older man. There was a calmness in the blue eyes that had not been there before. Not when they had first met, not when they had worked together, not during the visits during the incarceration and definitely not when they had come across each other here in Trinidad.

It looked like Will had finally found his inner center. The look suited him far better than the restless and haunted air he had possessed before.

The younger man reached out with one hand to the empty wine glass. His fingers wrapped around the frail stem of it and started turning it around, playing with it. His thumb brushed over the balloon of the glass.

All the time the blonde’s eyes were fixed on Hannibal’s face though as if he was trying to find the answer to some question there.

Finally the silence weighed too heavy on Will. “Are you going to stay?”

“Stay where, Will?”

There was no reaction. The glass continued turning and the younger man continued watching him.

A slight breeze wafted over the terrace and tousled the golden mop on Will’s head. The other blinked a couple of times as a strand of the hair was blown into his eyes but he did not reach up to brush the hair away.

Hannibal reached out and twisted the strand of hair between his fingers before he tucked it behind the younger man’s ear. The skin and the hair were a soft whisper against his fingers and he traced the shell of the ear to Will’s jaw. He could feel the faint trace of stubble there.

“Stay here in the cottage or stay in Trinidad?”

“You are thinking about going to a different country?” Will seemed to be surprised by Hannibal’s questions. “I thought…”

“I never said I wanted to leave Trinidad, although it is a possibility in the future.” In the near future if he had any say in that. Which he definitely had. “I was just trying to specify your question.”

“Are you going to stay with me?” The question was a soft exhale that ghosted over the underside of the older man’s arm.

“Now that is a question, Will, you’ll have to find the answer to yourself. Am I going to stay with you, Will?” The question was lightly asked but Hannibal watched Will carefully as the younger man decided upon an answer to the question.

Finally he seemed to have made a decision. “Yes. Yes, you are going to stay.”


”Soulmate dry you eye
‘cause soulmates never die”