The first thing Will noticed about Hannibal was his hands, that and his stupid grin which told him beforehand that he was nothing but trouble. Even if he wasn’t a fisherman, Hannibal knew how to lure Will and he had done exactly that.
His hands were slender, moisturized, and held more strength in them than a psychiatrist should have or even a surgeon. At first Will doesn’t get to finish the thought because suddenly the hands in question are moving and Will is sighing.
“Not fond of eye contact, are you?”
“Eyes are distracting you see too much; you don’t see enough. And—And it’s hard to focus when you’re thinking, um, ‘Oh, those whites are really white’, or, ‘He must have hepatitis’, or, ‘Oh, is that a burst ‘vein?’ So, yeah, I try to avoid eyes whenever possible,” Will’s mood continues to sour when he realizes that he stumbled with his hands, but what irritates him the most is the smile that his response draws from Hannibal. Honestly, he should have expected to see it directed towards him more often.
It’s Hannibal’s mouth that distracts him next. The man’s smile is razor sharp and rarely makes an appearance unless he’s truly amused.
Now though, he has Will in a seat across from his and juts his balled-up hand against his upright one, as if stabbing someone. Hannibal ends with his open palm vertically swiping down where it stops in front of his chest, waiting for an answer.
“Killing must feel good to God too. He does it all the time, and are we not created In His image?”
The words are striking, much like the rest of Hannibal and sends a shiver up Will’s spine. He’s not too sure if it’s from the remembered image of Hobbs coming towards him as his target sheet a few days earlier or that he may be detecting something he doesn’t fully comprehend yet.
He’s still unsure and rattled and his hands are shaking as he signs, “Depends on who you ask.”
“God’s terrific,” Will may not be able to hear Hannibal’s voice but the rumble of it reaches him nonetheless and has the agent focusing on the signing hands and nothing else, his face and eyes would reveal too much. Hands may speak more than most realize but he can ignore it in this moment, or so he hopes.
“He dropped a roof on thirty-four of his worshipers last Wednesday night in Texas, while they sang a hymn.”
“Did God feel good about that?” This time Will risks the look at Hannibal’s face, still scared of what he might see reflected on Hannibal’s face, what he does see he will come to encounter again under the guise of fear, understanding, and beauty.
“He felt powerful.”
Will stares and he doesn’t understand but he doesn’t think he wants to understand either. It would reveal too much about his encounter with Hobbs and what he’s afraid of. He doesn’t understand when Hannibal is smiling at him through bars, or when he’s forced to watch Abigail die while blood spills out of from his side.
When it all finally clicks into place he’s covered in blood under the moonlight and feels just as Hannibal had said, powerful.
Once again, he is in Hannibal’s arms but there is a total and complete acceptance between the two of them and Will’s only desire in that moment is to stay in those arms. He cannot be bothered with letting Hannibal go so he makes sure to look him in the eye when saying, “It’s beautiful.”
His voice is raspy, he can tell from the feel of it as the words work their way out of his throat but whether it’s from their activities or lack of use, he can’t be sure. He can’t seem to care either because Hannibal is speaking again.
“See? This is all I ever wanted for you, Will.”
Will is close to tears in the moment; not being able to hear his own name come from Hannibal is part of it but the rest falls mainly on finally being able to be with Hannibal after everything they’ve gone through. Though he’d like to live in the moment Will is keenly aware of where they stand in the face of the law and so doesn’t question when Hannibal sways them over the edge of the cliff.
The fall hurts and does plenty of damage to the two of them; once again it leaves Will feeling useless on account of his disability. He had learned to live with it, to not let it hinder him but when Will makes it out of the Atlantic, he’s cold, bleeding, and dizzy. It takes too much effort to try and make out what Hannibal is signing and even if he was able to Will isn’t in the right mind to comprehend it.
Will ends up relying more on his voice than he has since his accident, but they make it work. They’re still synchronized, just as they had been when fighting against the Dragon so Will has no qualms about letting Hannibal carry him off.
At first, they end up in another one of Hannibal’s houses where they allow themselves just enough time to heal a bit before moving off to their next location. It is admittedly, more difficult to learn to move around one another as now there’s a curtain of unease covering them which leaves Will hesitant to touch and Hannibal irate over the smallest of inconveniences.
The minute changes to Hannibal’s face may not seem like much, but Will has learned to read even the most miniscule of changes in Hannibal’s face, so when one night the man settles across from Will pouting over brewed tea, it leaves Will doubled over with laughter and a curious eyebrow raised from Hannibal in return.
He barely manages to sign the words, but Will’s sure that through his laughter Hannibal is able to understand either shaking hands or wavering voice.
Hannibal’s responding smile tells all and after that night their sense of comfort around each other starts to return.
When they move to New Orleans, Will’s blood warms and his smile settles in faster than he realizes to which Hannibal is grateful. It’s a risky move coming here, it would be one of the first places Jack would search if he thought Will was still alive but it’s worth it all when he settles quicker than at any other of their past locations.
Will has turned to signing and speaking and with the warmth and humidity of the Louisiana air, his accent has made a return even if Will himself doesn’t realize it. Hannibal finds that the Louisiana air and soil do well for Will who even manages to convince Hannibal to go fishing and taking in a Beagle.
Hamil, as Will has named him, is at first annoyingly perceptual to Will’s needs; more so than Hannibal is on the rare occasion, he also seems to excel in keeping Hannibal in line. The mutt barks whenever Hannibal is doing something Will would normally scorn him for and Will can’t help but point out that he’s really living up to his name. Hamil, short for Hamilcar, his historical father.
It’s a wonder how Will has managed to convince Hannibal to allow the animal onto the couch alongside them or even the bed, but the shared smiles, touch, and kisses all make up for it.
Eventually, Will even finds Hannibal sitting out back reading a book with his right-hand scratching Hamil’s ears. It stops Will in his tracks and has him feeling overwhelmed, if only just for a moment. When that feeling of drowning has passed and Will is instead recollecting the look of blood on the both of them and how happy they are in a shared home, he strides over and settles in Hannibal’s lap and kisses him.
The kiss escalates and ends with the two of them stroking each other to completion but they’re smiling and leaning against each other so if a mosquito bites Will on the ass, he can always complain to Hannibal later.
They end up leaving New Orleans a month later, with Hamil in tow. Jack got too close to the scent for either of their likings and so they left for Greece. The air is less humid, but the sun is still warm and the access to the ocean is still there.
Hamil ends up digging in the sand whenever he gets the chance, which seems to be everyday to Hannibal, but Will notices that he still never denies the dog the opportunity. In fact, Greece seems to be permanent with every day that goes by.
Hannibal practices his Greek, which Will insistently teases him about, and they get to know the locals and their neighbors. The couple has taken color to their skin and Will’s hair is long enough now that he’s more likely to have it up and out of his face than anything.
Together they still go hunting, not as often as they did in the states but enough to satisfy that carnal want from inside them both. It’s on one of those nights that they both lose themselves and Will ends up on his side with Hannibal fucking his thighs. There’s more lube than they need but Will is so caught up getting to feel Hannibal stroke him and pinch at his nipples that he doesn’t have enough within him to care. Briefly, he wonders what his voice must sound like but there’s also Hannibal’s chest pushed up against him and the rumbles that carry on from Hannibal’s moans is much more distracting. He tells him as much when they’ve moved positions and ends up with three fingers curling inside him.
“I get caught up in these moments with you, wondering how I sound and how much I wish I could hear you but then your voice resonates throughout my body and I forget.” The sentence takes a bit longer to form because of how it feels heavy in his mouth, but it can only be blamed on Hannibal for taking him apart so well.
“You’re trying to stir me up mano meiliė,” the open hands that lay over one another at his chest with his thumbs up rather than in fists make Will blush. It had taken him a while to get that the other had crossed over to his native tongue only to deliver it to Will in sign. Now though, it floods warmth in his chest and has Will clutching at the sheets in pleasure.
Will comes with Hannibal’s name spilling from his lips and Hannibal speaking into his skin. The vibrations comfort him and let him hear his voice even if it cannot be done from his ears. It doesn’t matter anymore because he’s always going to have Hannibal now, of that he’s certain. If not, they’ll each follow each other into damnation or salvation.
Years pass, enough for them to feel comfortable in what they’ve built for themselves and to adopt a few more strays and a little girl. Her eyes match in color with Will’s hair and she’s much quieter than either of them had anticipated. She’s eager to learn the many languages that her fathers have to offer and even more enchanted with her pack of dogs. She ends up spending most days in the ocean, curious eyes and mind always asking questions, but they never share with her what she doesn’t need to know. In the end, Alyssa grows and the two of them age but never again does Will ever wish he could hear because he’s learned to listen, and he’s always been able to see.
He sees his daughter’s eyes that are large and brown, the freckles she develops from days spent in the sun. He sees the wrinkles that Hannibal develops and the sharp smile he shares every day now. Will sees the ring around his finger and the scars on his body that always remind him of what it took to get here in this moment of life.
When Will is old and Alyssa is grown, he is alone. He sees the home he built with his family and the pictures that show Hannibal and himself raising their girl. Though Hannibal has left him, and he cannot see him anymore, Will does not want because when he closes his eyes, he can remember him. Just as they had promised, they follow each other, and Will gets to open his eyes to a world where Hannibal greets him as he did before Alyssa came to them. Only this time he can hear his voice.