Hannigram -Short stories -

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#Hannibal #WillGraham #Hannigram #shortstory

"I stopped counting the times I got lost in your body without having it near me and, even more, the number of stories I've written with you as the owner."

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Hannibal was sure he could forget who he was, what kind of life he had had and what it meant to be him. He might even forget his own name, the one his parents gave him one day and the only thing he keeps from them. He knows well that he could forget the smell of the world around him, the blood running down his arms as he sliced a life, the taste of the coffee in the mornings that he loved so much.

But he was also sure of one thing: he would never forget Will's body. His faint smile that screamed dare if you can, his beautiful blue eyes that were even more so in the right light, and how they darkened every time their bodies came together, not knowing how long they would last this time.
Hannibal knows that forgetting Will's unruly curls is an impossible task because if there was one thing he adored about the young man, it was just that. Trying to tame them was a waste of time, and yet there was a force in him that pushed him to do it as soon as they were within reach. They both ended up smiling in the process, and that alone was worth it.

Hannibal loved the little things, those details that didn't even exist in the eyes of the world. The curve of his body that invited him to bury himself in it and that he would gladly do it every time, loving every corner because he knew that even though it wasn't written anywhere, it belonged to him. Will often told him so and Hannibal, proudly, felt a pleasant warmth in his heart.

In his Mind Palace he had recorded all that, of course, even though he knew there might come a time when the doors would be closed.
There were also his drawings. He counted them by the hundreds, each one more precious. For Hannibal wrote on Will's body all the poetry that had long grown inside him and, with his fingers, made each moment eternal on paper where Will would always be young. Where he would always love him.

- Can I see it?

Behind him, chin resting on his right shoulder, the reason his life shines brighter. He closes his eyes and smells the aftershave he's come to love from hating it so much, ironies of a life that every day laughs at him as he feels so vulnerable.

- It's not over yet, mylimasis.

- I think it is. Is this how I sleep?

- Sometimes. Not always - he smiles - it depends on how tired you are after so many orgasms.

- I must stop pandering to your ego so much, Dr. Lecter.

- It's not like you're incapable of craving everything. You wouldn't be you without your appetite, and I wouldn't be who I am with you if you were any different.

Will wraps his arms around him and kisses him on the cheek, quick. Sometimes he did, not too often, lest Hannibal fall in love with him.

- How about going to bed? - he says in his ear.

And Hannibal, whose body is more instinct than anything else, rests his pencil on the buttocks of a Will he hopes is dreaming of him, and turns his face to meet the younger man's lips.

- What do you want from me, sex fiend? Stay away, for my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom as great, laughs Hannibal, quoting a movie.

Will breaks away from him without taking his eyes off him. He smiles, and his blue eyes sparkle with the knowledge that he has won.

- Will? Hannibal, there's no such thing between us.

And he reaches out his arm, and Hannibal takes his hand because in some defeats one can also find happiness.