caveat_lector: alana bloom in hannibal's kitchen looking gorgeous (alana in sorbet)
caveat_lector ([personal profile] caveat_lector) wrote in [community profile] fan_flashworks2016-10-29 06:23 pm

Purgatory Challenge: Hannibal: Fic: Purgatory

Title: Purgatory
Fandom: Hannibal (TV)
Characters: Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter
Rating: General
Length: 450
Content notes: None
Author notes: purgatory: a place or state of temporary suffering or misery
Summary: Hannibal and Will are on the run, but not going anywhere.



Will paced from the fireplace to the windows and back again. He was aware his frustration was growing more evident and probably more irritating with every step, but he couldn't make himself stop.

Hannibal put his book down next to him on the sofa. "If you're restless, Will, why don't you go fishing?"

"If I was looking for me, I would start with fishing. Or boats." Will rubbed a hand across his forehead. "Maybe I need to find something new to keep busy."

"The house owners left some yarn and knitting needles."

Hannibal's voice was even, no sign of teasing. Will ignored him.

Hannibal picked up his book and flicked through looking for his place again. "I could teach you."

That annoyed Will enough to stop pacing, because of course. Of course Hannibal could knit. He was probably whatever the equivalent of gourmet cook was in knitting circles. "Just because you haven't seen me knit, doesn't mean I don't know how, Hannibal."

"You can't knit, Will."

"You're very sure of yourself."

"I'm sure you wouldn't have kept it from me."

Will leaned down over Hannibal, gripping his wrists and pressing them hard into his thighs until he let go of his book once more. "Maybe I was embarrassed?"

Hannibal glanced up at him, a smile hovering around his lips. "You don't care enough about conforming to be embarrassed. Your few recreational pursuits are perceived as masculine because those are the things you learned from your father, not because you think they are appropriate."

"He didn't care what people thought of him either."

"But he cared about what people thought of you."

Will loosened his fingers and looked at the dents he'd made in Hannibal's skin, the pale lines where his grip had been too tight.

He wanted to move his fingers to Hannibal's face instead, to his hair. To the long line of his neck, to the crease of his lips. Parts of Hannibal he didn't think he had ever touched before. He hadn't really known he'd wanted to, but he did. Oh god, he did.

He wanted to dare to let his knee slide next to Hannibal, to push him back against the sofa cushions as he straddled him. He wanted to ask Hannibal if he cared what people thought.

It was an opening.

Then-- then it wasn't. Hannibal picked up his book again, with what might have been a quiet sigh.

And Will paced from the fireplace to the windows and back again.

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