Monster [malexmale]

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

I lost track of how much time we'd spent in bed.

Which was probably a bad idea because I had other things I wanted to do. Like contact Kristoff about the tea party or Blaine to see how he was doing and the baby too, or cook or-- Who, who am I kidding? There was nothing I'd rather do than lay in bed with Hannibal.

It was dark out by the time we woke up from a nap.

Hannibal was laying in the bed beside me, his face against my stomach, his arm draped over my waist. His sleep, as before, was so silent that it would've worried me if it wasn't for the twitch in his muscles that told me he was still alive. He was totally naked beneath the blankets, his black hair fanned out across the bed like an ink spill. His neck and chest was decorated in a colorful array of hickeys. One of my hands was buried in his hair, the other resting across my stomach.

I lifted my head and turned to see the clock on my night stand that indicated it was nine at night. I sighed and looked down at Hannibal, smiling lightly at the way he slept. How nice it would be to sleep so peacefully...

But then, I wondered... Hannibal was so good at hiding his emotions when he was awake. Was he that good while he slept? Maybe in his dreams?

No, don't you fucking dare, Akin.

I swallowed hard, squeezing my eyes shut and gritting my teeth. I couldn't do that to him. I had promised myself I wouldn't walk into dreams anymore, not after what happened last time. It was a horribly dangerous move on my part. I didn't want to end up like my mother. Thinking about it only hurt worse. I hated myself for even wondering for a moment.

But it still clung to me, no matter how much I fought it.

I wanted to know. I needed to know.

Before my powers could get the best of me, Hannibal woke up with a murmur. It was a language I'd never heard before. I looked down to see his eyes flicker open as he with drew his hand from me to rub the heel of his palm into his eye. I managed to push my earlier thoughts out the window as I smiled down at him, stroking the hair back from his face.

"Good evening, pet." I greeted him. He blinked a few times, then closed his eyes again and pressed his lips to my abs.

"Good evening, sir." He responded. I resisted the urge to smile like an idiot. Instead, I just pet Hannibal's hair affectionately until I decided it was time we got out of bed. Couldn't spend the whole day there.

Well, we could.

But it wouldn't be productive.

Well, maybe.

Damn it.

I shook my head and managed to force myself and Hannibal out of bed. I let him shower with me so I could wash his hair, awed by how long and soft it was as I ran shampooed fingers through his hair. I twisted it around my hand, but didn't pull. Just admired the way it slid around my hand so perfectly, like a glove. I let go of his hair to let it rinse under the water before I ran my hand down his side until it settled over his hip, just above the cattle brand on his hip. My smile melted as pain assailed me.

Maybe I couldn't figure out what happened between him and Abel, but maybe he'd tell me how this happened. I wanted to know, in case I ran into anyone else from his past, because friend or no friend, whoever did this to him was going to be bitchslapped to the max.

"Hannibal?" I asked gently.

"Yes, sir?" He asked, scrubbing soap down his arm. I watched the way he did it with a masculine grace that you rarely found nowadays. Something about it was almost ancient. How odd. I rested my head on his shoulder, stroking my thumb over the brand.