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Chapter Text

Count Hannibal Lecter stormed through the cobbled streets of London. It would be another month before the season began and London became crowded again. The damned social season was the reason for his thunderous mood. His sister, Misha, turned eighteen in July and was becoming much less tolerant with his constant attempts to delay her coming out.

Her friend Penelope Featherington, one of the few ladies Hannibal did not find unbearably dull, was to be presented the season after next at only sixteen. Misha was easily as intelligent as the younger lady presented herself to be, although Hannibal suspected she was a great deal sharper than her featherbrained Mother realised. Misha was also a stunning beauty, a most accomplished lady in all appropriate areas and much more sweet natured than her brother who had bloodied many a nose in and out of the boxing ring. Whenever she debuted Lady Misha Lecter was sure to be a sensation and therein lay his problem.

Money was discussed in a most unseemly way, it was his fortune that had ambitious mothers flinging their daughters at him season after season. He would dance with those who were having trouble finding a suitor but was borderline rude to those determined to ensnare him by any means necessary. Hannibal had been clear in his intention to never take a wife which left Misha as his only heir and thus made her all the more desirable.

Even without a dowry she would no doubt have a handful of proposals and since Hannibal could not embarrass her by offering less than five figures she would have scores of men of good breeding and fortune vying for her hand. Like most, Misha hoped for a love match but was not so idealistic as to reject anything but true love. If she was introduced in a month's time he had no doubt she would be married by the end of the season. Even if she could be talked into a long engagement it would barely delay the inevitable for more than a few months.

Then whichever unworthy man she chose, for in thirty years he had not met one who deserved her, would whisk her away to some family estate in the country leaving Hannibal to only have the pleasure of her smiles at balls. Despite the dozen years between them the two had become very close since the death of their parents and she would visit, at first. A duchess of viscountess had duties that would keep her away. That was the life Misha wanted and Hannibal could deny her nothing, he only hoped to delay it a little while longer.

His mood was so foul he did not bother to apologise when he bumped against a younger man who mumbled his own apologies and hurried away. It took Hannibal maybe a minute to notice his coin purse was missing. With a growl he turned on his heel and caught the young pocket by his threadbare sleeve. “Give it back and we can both be on our way,” he said through gritted teeth.

The thief turned wide swirling eyes towards him with a look of offended innocence. “I have no idea what you are talking about sir,” he replied curtly. Hannibal squeezed his upper arm hard and rolled his eyes. He yanked the brunette boy closer and reached into his coat, locating his coin purse quickly. The man looked down, his cheeks rosy.

Hannibal took a moment to examine the youth. His clothes were faded and didn’t fit him well, donated or stolen but once they were fine. They hung off his slender frame which looked a little too thin. His blue-green eyes were bright and stunningly beautiful and his tousled curls could do with a wash but the colour gleamed against his skin. When Hannibal did not release his tight grip the youth peeked up at him through thick long lashes, perfect pink lips parted. He was delicate and soft but still undeniably male. Hannibal prided himself on not ruining a woman’s virtue but he made no secret of his affairs with women already ruined and young widows. He was slightly more discreet with male partners out of respect for their reputation as well as his own. The sweet young creature was more desirable than any feathered, painted debutante. “What is your name?”

“I-I’m sorry, you have your purse, please, l-let me be,” the young man stammered as he struggled against Hannibal’s tight hold on him. Hannibal could detect real fear in his voice.

“What is your name?” He repeated raising his voice a touch.

“Will Graham,” he answered.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-one.”

“Now, why did you attempt to rob me?” Hannibal asked.

“Wasn’t personal,” Will almost whispered. Hannibal waited patiently for him to continue. Will glanced up at the grey skies above before speaking. “There’s a storm coming and I need money for a room,” he met Hannibal’s eyes with defiance for a moment before looking away again. A fat raindrop fell to the ground between them, and a rumble of thunder threatened more to come. It had been a hot summer and they were due a wrathful storm to clear the air.

“Join me at my club,” Hannibal commanded.

“What?” Will asked in surprise.

“The skies will open soon, you’d be better off inside,” he suggested more gently, moving his grip to Will’s elbow and letting it loosen some.

“Would they even let me in?” He asked nervously.

“Certainly, as my guest.”

The rapidly increasing rain made Will’s decision for him. “Yes, thank you sir,” Hannibal smiled and steered WIll along the streets towards his club. “Wait. Who are you?”

“I am Count Hannibal Lecter.”

Chapter Text

Hannibal's club was nearby and the warmth was more than welcome after the rain outside. For a moment the doorman looked like he might not allow entry but a cold look from Hannibal easily defeated him. He was not the only one, many eyes travelled over his ill-fitting garments as Hannibal led him to a private corner table with two deep leather arm chairs.

Hannibal ordered two bowls of wild boar stew along with a bottle of fruity merlot for the table. Will smiled when Hannibal filled his cup. "This is delicious," he said, licking his lips. They were even more lovely stained red. The stew was warm and thick and, though he tried not to show it, the boy was clearly ravenous, devouring his food eagerly.

"Is this state of homelessness new? He asked, eyes on Will as he enjoyed his own meal. 

"No. My dad passed away when I was fourteen, he was a tradesman and didn't have much to leave me. I steal when I need to, not for pleasure," he answered, eyes darting away at the last second.

"What about the days when you cannot secure a coin purse? I imagine it cannot be easy during the season when the streets are full of potential witnesses," he pressed.

"If you are asking if I provide sexual favours for money, the answer is yes," he responded boldly, leaning back in his chair with his legs slightly parted. "But I do require coins rather than food and wine, not that I am not grateful."

Hannibal shook his head. "You are very beautiful and I would love to have you in my bed, but I will not pay for the illusion of attraction or affection," he answered honestly.

"Most are only interested in pleasure," Will shrugged. "I do what I have to to survive, I am not ashamed."

"Nor should you be. I do not judge you. I was fourteen when I lost both my parents to sickness, my sister was only two. We were sent to relatives to keep us safe from the fever but, had we not been so lucky, I would have done anything to ensure our survival," Hannibal told him. "Now she is the only family I have and the most important thing to me."

"I don't have anyone important to care for," Will responded.

"It is sad that you do not consider yourself of importance," Hannibal observed. "Chloe, would you bring us some macarons and tea please?" The smiling woman behind the bar nodded and scurried away. Hannibal returned to observing Will. He was not sure why the young man sparked such an interest in him. He was stunning yes, but Hannibal had laid with several beautiful men and women, none were as captivating as this youth. There was something else in him. Perhaps it was his eyes, even when he did meet Hannibal's gaze it was swift, guarded. "Do you enjoy the company of men?" He asked bluntly.

"I'm not a… not homosexual," Will responded instantly, glancing around the nearly empty room. That response was to be expected. Who would openly admit to a hangable crime?

"That is not what I asked," Hannibal said, raising an eyebrow.

There were several quiet seconds before Will softly replied. "I like women as well," Hannibal nodded his understanding with a small smile. This pretty youth could solve his predicament and he would have the opportunity to satisfy the curiosity he inspired.

"In that case, I have a proposition for you," he said. "My sister, Misha, is eighteen now and has not been introduced to society yet."

Will was nonplussed, he did not know much about society but most girls he saw entering the palace in white silks and feathers were younger than eighteen. "So you'll be presenting her this year, unless she's not ready or something?"

"Misha is more than ready, she will be the perfect debutante, the star of the season," he smiled faintly with pride. "I wish to delay her coming out for another year. I have not met a single member of society deserving of her but by the end of her first season I am confident she will have received offers from a great many wealthy and titled men with great estates outside of London. That is not what I want."

"Don't they need your permission to propose?" Will asked.

"Technically no, although most will not go ahead without my blessing. I could refuse them all but my Misha desires a family and for that she will need to be married," Hannibal explained. "I could be content if I could ensure that she remains close by. That is where you come in."

"What can I do?" Will asked. Coming out, the marriage market, it was not his world, he saw ladies dressed for courting but only from afar.

Hannibal took a case from his inner pocket and opened it to reveal a small painting of Misha. "This is her," he said. Will examined the picture, he could not deny she was a beauty. She was lighter than her brother with wheat coloured curls and eyes the colour of honey. Hannibal's eyes were a darker shade of amber with an almost red tinge to their predatory gaze. Misha shared her brother's high cheekbones and pleasing mouth but there was an innocent kindness in her pretty eyes.

"She is lovely."

"Accomplished too. She would be quite the prize for any Duke or Viscount. Unless she agreed to marry you," he said calmly.

"What?" Will exclaimed. "Even with a dowry I can't support a wife. Believe me Hannibal, I am the last person who should ever marry or have children. You are a count and she is a lady used to the nice things, why would you allow her to marry someone like me?"

"I will take you in for a year as my ward. If Misha should like you then, once she is presented and after a short courtship, you will marry. I will increase her dowry to six figures, secure you a house in town and provide you both with a sizable allowance," he explained.

"What if she doesn’t like me?" Will asked, surely such a sweet young lady would see that there was something wrong with him, after a year Hannibal would see it too. 

"Then you will have a warm bed and plentiful food for a year without having to resort to pickpocketing or selling yourself," Hannibal said. "Though Misha has met precious few people she has not liked. She has a gift for bringing out the best in everyone."

"What if I don't like her?"

Hannibal chuckled lightly. "You will."

"I don't know," Will said, squirming.

"It is not so unusual Will. Many Fathers and brothers choose a ladies future husband before she has had a chance to meet him or any other potential matches," Hannibal pointed out. "If I am not certain that the two of you would be satisfied in a marriage I will not allow it," the storm outside grew in intensity and Will flinched when lightning flashed, turning the building outside into black looming silhouettes.

"I can't meet her dressed like this," Will answered. He had been allowed in this fine place but he was acutely aware of every scornful glance.

Hannibal's smile widened, the very image of the cat that caught a particularly fat canary. "Of course not. By the time we return home you will be drenched. There is one more condition, non negotiable," he added seriously. "I have medical training and I will need to personally examine you to make certain you show no signs of disease," his eyes flicked down to Will's crotch, making it clear what kind of examination he meant. Will's cheeks grew warm but he nodded in agreement. "Wonderful."

**********

The storm did not let up as they hurried toward Hannibal's large town house and when they entered the opulent foyer they were both dripping and Will was trembling. A woman in her late forties spotted them and her lips pursed at the puddles forming beneath them. "We appear to have been caught in the rain, Mrs Hobbs," he explained with a sheepish smile, Will mumbled an apology and she visibly softened. "This is Mr Will Graham, he will be staying with us for the foreseeable future. Please have a hot bath drawn and find him some dry clothing, no doubt we have something suitable in storage," her mouth twitched at the mention of storage as though trying not to laugh. "Place one outfit in my room and the rest in the azure room. Is Francis here?"

"I believe so, Lord Lecter," she answered.

"Send him to the study when you can, please, I need him to deliver a message to Mr Brown," Mrs Hobbs nodded brightly, looking pleased. "Go with Mrs Hobbs, Will," overwhelmed by the ornate surroundings and Hannibal's intimidating presence he meekly followed her, pausing in the doorway when Hannibal spoke. "Orange blossoms, I think," Will did not understand but Mrs Hobbs nodded and led him upstairs.

Once in the bathroom, Mrs Hobbs pulled a rope and before long two younger maids arrived. "Orange blossoms have a lovely scent, Mr Graham, and they have wonderful relaxing properties."

"Okay," he murmured quietly, awkwardly hovering in the corner as the copper tub was filled. 

"How is it you know Count Lecter, if it's not too bold of me to ask?" She asked politely.

"It's not but it's uh…. Complicated," he offered.

"Have you met Lady Misha yet?" He offered her a smile, grateful for her attempts to engage him in conversation.

"Not yet," he responded. "Count Lecter intends to introduce us at dinner this evening," his nerves must have shown.

"It will be good for her to have another young person in the house. The last visitor was Lady Gabrielle, Lord Roberto's god-daughter. There were rumours that he hoped she would make a good match for the Count but there was a large age gap. She and Misha became close and she visited often before she got engaged last year, she has married a self-made American, Samuel Weston, a second son too. Count Lecter spoke for the marriage as they were a love match and some of her relatives were very unhappy about it," she told him.

"I grew up in the countryside," Will lied. "I don't know much about society marriages."

"Lady Gabrielle certainly broke a trend but it is not unheard of for fortune or affection to be put before titles," she explained.

"Do you think Lady Misha would want a titled match?" He pressed.

"I couldn't say if it matters to her but if she gets her way she'll have a handful of titled suitors by this time next year. Lady Misha is the perfect lady, she could be a princess," she gushed with true affection. The maid finished filling the streaming tub and Mrs Hobbs scattered sweet smelling herbs and white blooms over the surface, the room filling with a floral scent with a faint hint of citrus. She placed soap and a towel to one side. "Just leave your clothing outside the door and they'll be washed and repaired for you. Count Lecter's valet is very talented and I am sure he will assist Mr Brown with any difficulties, " with a warm smile, she left him alone. Will peeled off his soaked clothes and did as he was bid. He sank below the steaming surface, the delightful smells and herbs making him feel like he was the main ingredient in a soup. He hadn't had anything but a cold wash in years and his muscles were delighted to unwind.

He was left alone for several moments and was on the verge of drifting off when he heard a soft knock at the door. "Will?" It felt somehow obscene to hear that accent when he was naked and loose. "I am coming in," Will sank lower into the water,  raising his knees to his chest, trying to hide his genitals. Hannibal entered. carrying a thick rose-coloured robe and an ivory comb dotted with blue and green stones. "I thought you may need assistance detangling your hair."

Chapter Text

Will raised a hand to his matted hair. It was badly tangled and filthy, he suddenly felt embarrassed of his appearance and meekly nodded. With a pleased nod Hannibal settled on a stool behind him, rolling up his sleeves before working his fingers through Will's greasy locks.

“I think it needs cutting,” Will said, needing to say something, curled up in a tight ball.

“I disagree,” Hannibal responded. “I'm sure once it is clean and rinsed you will look even more lovely,” he said kindly. “Lean forward and tilt your head back,” the maids had left a jug of clean water by the tub and Hannibal poured at least half over Will's hair, protecting his eyes with a hand at his brow. “If you are uncomfortable with the length we can discuss a trim once it is clean and dry. Are you attached to your beard?” He asked, stroking the short hairs at Will's jaw.

“No, I just don't often have a chance to shave,” he answered.

“Good. It would be a shame to hide any of your sweet face and clean-shaven is the current fashion,” he said.

“I think it would be nice to get rid of the hair,” Will said. “Itches in the summer.”

“Tomorrow morning then,” Hannibal's fingers sunk into Will’s curls, removing dirt and undoing stubborn knots with care. He soaped up a bar that smelt of red apples and cinnamon and massaged the suds through Will's curls, blunt nails scraping along Will’s scalp until he relaxed into the touch, eyes closed and almost purring, his body unconsciously unfolding.

Hannibal rinsed his hair and dragged the ivory comb through the wet tresses, twirling the curls around his fingers. The candlelight bounced off the jewels and Will watched the reflected lights dance along the wall. “Those are real,” he murmured softly. 

“What was that?” Hannibal asked.

“The stones, they're real jewels not coloured glass,” he repeated.

“Yes,” Hannibal said, lowering the comb so Will could see it more clearly. “Blue and green are the family colours. I have a feeling they will suit you.”

Will gingerly touched the bright stones. “I've never seen a real jewel up close before,” he admitted. 

“You shall have some of your own,” Hannibal said, returning to Will's hair.

“No, I didn't mean… I wasn't asking,” he stammered.

“I know,” he said softly. “But a broach would bring out your eyes beautifully,” Will let his eyes fall shut and just enjoyed the touch of his fingers, biting back a needy whine when he drew away. “When you are done please come to my bedroom, two doors down on your right.”

“Bedroom?” Will echoed breathlessly.

“A proper medical examination requires privacy. It is the most comfortable place,” he stated. “Take your time,” he shut the door softly behind him

Will let out a long breath he didn't realise he had been holding, his scalp still tingling a little. Will scrubbed himself clean, his nerves dancing under the skin. Despite his nerves he felt so much better now he was clean and he looked forward to losing his short beard. He dried himself off and wrapped the soft robe around himself but hesitated before leaving the warm steaming room. 

A medical examination made sense, though signs of a serious disease would be obvious and Will was not worried about that, he was as careful as he could be. But was that all that would happen when he entered Hannibal's private space? Will had never been with a man for pleasure, only payment and he had never felt the pull he felt towards Hannibal. He had experienced attraction to men before but he had never been even close to a man as handsome and as incredibly tempting as Hannibal Lecter. He believed Hannibal when he said he was not interested in purchasing Will's body, but he wanted him, that was clear. His intention could be to seduce him, Will wasn't sure he hated that idea. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

Hannibal's room was dark, dimly lit with a crackling fire and decorated with shades of blue and green with red and black accents, it was intimate and the space tasted of luxury. The kind of luxury that Will had never experienced before. His attention snapped back to Hannibal when he spoke. “You do not need to be nervous, Will,” he informed him gently. “You must have seen a doctor before.”

“Not that I can remember,” Will admitted.

“You need not be uncomfortable, I promise I will remain professional. Now, please take off your robe,” he instructed. Will did so, standing awkwardly by the fire. He could sense Hannibal moving closer though he did not make a sound. Will trembled when he felt Hannibal's finger traced the scar on his shoulder. “You did not see a doctor for this?” He asked

Will swallowed and shook his head. “I had enough for a room at an Inn so I washed it with boiled wine and sewed it up myself. I guessed it would be cheaper.”

“Impressive work,” Hannibal observed. “Very neat,” Will smiled a little at the praise. “You may have a hidden talent for needlework,” he joked. Will stood still as Hannibal examined his body, humming softly as he brushed his hands over his stomach. “No wonder you were so ravenous at the club,” he observed softly. 

Hannibal noticed that while his muscles were firm beneath his hands he was worryingly thin, ribs visible under his smooth skin. “You will feel much better with some more meat on your frame, stronger,” he promised, eager to feed the youth. Will had a few bruises that were almost completely faded but other than that and the shoulder scar he was free from blemishes, quite lovely indeed. His thick curls with the wheat colour of he and Misha's hair would look lovely on a small child.

He sank to his knees in front of Will. Taking his wrists in his hands he moved Will's hands to his side, revealing his member. Will's whole body was turning red and he focused on the ceiling, trying to keep himself from shaking. When Hannibal’s fingers moved along his shaft, lifting it to examine his balls, Will felt himself begin to react. Hannibal did not comment though his breathing grew heavier, he continued his examination and Will's body burned when Hannibal spread Will's ass cheeks to check for any damage around the hole. When he stood he nodded with a reassuring smile and washed his hands. Will waited for him to speak. 

“The clothes on the bed should suit you,” Hannibal said, gesturing to the fine garments laid out. Will quickly dressed himself, the clothes were not new but had been well cared for and fit him better than what he had worn before. Even Will could tell they were expensive.

Hannibal took a long moment to look at him, particularly enjoying the flush of his cheeks. He was pleased with Mrs Hobbs's choice. A cerulean jacket over an emerald green shirt and powder blue waistcoat, the off-white breeches clung to his firm legs before disappearing into gleaming black riding boots. The Lecter family colours suited him beautifully. The jacket was not as tight fitting on Will's shoulders as it had been when Hannibal wore it but by the time Will was introduced to the critical eyes of the ton he would have his own wardrobe. Hannibal intended to ensure it contained plenty of blue and green, those eyes deserved to be highlighted at every opportunity. “Are you comfortable?” He asked eventually.

“Yes, very comfortable. Thank you,” Will answered, relieved that Hannibal's piercing gaze was no longer pinning him in place.

“Good. I should be able to secure the services of a tailor in the next few days,” he assured Will. He opened his mouth to speak but Hannibal held up a hand. “You may feel it is unnecessary but I disagree. By the time Misha comes out you will have already been established in society and will pass for a perfect gentleman.”

“Tell me about her?” Will requested. “She cannot be as perfect as you say.”

“You are correct, please sit,” he gestured to a low sofa and presented Will with a cup of weak wine before joining him. “Misha is not flawless,” Hannibal admitted, taking a sip from his own cup. “I have no idea how she will handle the financial running of a household as her mathematical skills are terrible. Every plant she has ever cared for has withered and died in a surprisingly short amount of time. By the way do you have a sweet tooth?”

“Yeah, when I get the chance to indulge,” Will answered with a grin.

“Wonderful. Misha has a certain flair for baking sweet desserts but her cooking is dangerous,” he warned. “It is to be avoided at all costs.”

“That makes sense since she grew up with a cook,” Will said.

“Only on special occasions, large dinner parties. I cook the majority of meals myself,” Hannibal informed him.

“You cook? Why?” Will asked. “I don't have many reasons to come to this part of town but don't most of the houses around here have several servants?

“Yes but I enjoy cooking. My household staff consists of two maids, Gertrude and Sarah, one footman, Louie, Mrs Hobbs and her daughter Abigail who acts as Misha's ladies maid. Her husband was my gardener before he passed so now I have a man come twice a week. There is also my valet, Mr Dolarhyde and I have sent an offer of employment to a Mr Matthew Brown to serve you,” he lifted. “So seven, including my gardener. Not the most on the street but considerable.”

“I don't need a valet,” Will said, squirming.

“Matthew will be most helpful in suggesting the correct clothes and accessories for the correct occasion and he has an excellent reputation but, if you dislike him for any reason he can be replaced. Besides, fine cufflinks can be very difficult to attach without help,” Hannibal said, his expression suggesting that was the end of the conversation.

“Do you really think I can pass for a gentleman?” Will asked. “I don’t think I can.”

“Why ever not?” Hannibal asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Because I'm not,” Will said, looking down. “I'm a pickpocket and…” he trailed off.

“A whore?” Hannibal supplied. “What you have done is not who you are. You are a survivor and the only difference between a gentleman and a street urchin are clothes, which I can easily supply, and manners that are not hard to learn. Can you read and write?”

“Yes and I'm good with maths,” Will added.

“Good, and do you enjoy reading?” He asked.

“I think I would if I got the time,” he said.

“Then I'm sure you will enjoy my library,” Hannibal said with a warm smile. “One of the young ladies in the street often borrows books from me, she could recommend something if you wish. I mostly read medical texts and nonfiction.”

“The idea of free time is strange,” Will said. 

“I cannot imagine your days were packed,” Hannibal speculated.

“No,  but I was always planning for where I could spend the night or finding somewhere out of the rain,” Will explained.

“Our lives are very different,” Hannibal admitted. “Or they were.”

“Hannibal, why am I here?” He asked.

“I told you,” Hannibal said. “I would like to arrange a marriage between you and Misha, rather than leave her future up to chance.”

“But you don't even know me,’ he pressed.

“I have studied sociology and psychology and I am confident in my ability to read people. Have you ever harmed a woman, child or animal?” He asked.

“No, of course not, never,” he answered.

“Then I know more than I do about most potential suitors,” he smiled.

“That's pretty much the minimum requirement,” Will answered.

“You would assume so,” Hannibal said. “There are still men who believe a wife must be kept in line by any means necessary.”

“It's just the clothes and all, it seems like you are investing a lot of time and money in me,” Will said.

“I think of it as an investment in my family's future. I never intend to marry thus I will have no heir and everything I own will go to Misha and her husband,” Hannibal explained. “As I said before, if the two of you do not get along I will not push this match.”

“I won't be able to pay back anything if something goes wrong,” Will admitted.

“You are under no obligation to do so. Most marriages are based on friendship if the participants are lucky, I only expect you to try,” Hannibal said. “Will you do that for me?”

“Yes,” he answered.

“Thank you Will,” Hannibal said, placing his drink down on the low table. “I wish to make one thing perfectly clear. If all goes to plan and you and Misha become betrothed you will marry her, I will not have her humiliated by a broken engagement. Do you understand?”

“That's fair,” Will said. “I mean we can't even openly court for a year, we'll know eachother better than most.”

Hannibal nodded. “One more thing,” he answered, voice low and dangerous. “If you ever raise a hand to her I will kill you,” Will felt cold fingers twist his insides, he was pretty sure Hannibal was not kidding. “No-one will ever find you, I mean it,” he held Will's gaze for a long minute. “Tell me you understand me, Will.”

“I understand you, Hannibal.”

Chapter Text

They finished their drinks in silence. Hannibal seemed perfectly at ease, ankles crossed in front of him as he gazed at the flickering flames.

Will was gazing at him, trying to figure out the enigma before him. The same man that had combed through his dirty hair without hurting him once had threatened to brutally kill him. Most men would say they would kill for a beloved sibling but Will was certain that Hannibal was completely sincere. But he wasn't scared, the passion behind his words thrilled him.

Will understood people, he always had. He could spot the gentleman too distracted to notice his coin purse going missing and the man too ashamed to visit a Molly house who might follow him into the darkness. Even the most complicated people were easy to figure out, who they were and what they wanted. Sex, money, hate, love; the universal motivators.

But Hannibal was a mystery. It was surprising enough he'd noticed he'd been pickpocketing, his face suggested he was not in the present but he'd followed Will to get his property back. Then there was his reaction, he bought Will a meal and arranged a marriage. No medium could have predicted that. Will still wasn't sure if he believed Hannibal's words. It didn't make sense. Hannibal had been open about wanting him so why yoke him to his sister? He clearly cared a great deal about her reputation and Will did not think he intended them to have a loveless marriage of pure convenience.

Will knew of those marriages, many of the husband's sought out men like him. The wife had certain freedoms and more jewellery than most and they did not question where their husband went late at night. Newlyweds were riddled with guilt while those who had been married came to resent their spouses. On paper they made sense but they were not happy. It was unlikely Hannibal was planning to use his little sister as a diversion so he could slip into Will’s bed and while Will reciprocated his desire, the idea of carrying on an affair was distasteful. He had promised not to humiliate or hurt her and if she was everything Hannibal said Will wanted to treat her right.

Perhaps Hannibal found him physically attractive but found the idea of sleeping with a rent boy unappealing, even if he was not paying. Will would have slept with him for free, when Hannibal touched him the surge of want made his knees weak. Hannibal understood that Will needed to do things he was not proud of to survive but perhaps he judged him more than he claimed.

He had a year, one year before he could even court Misha. Would a causal physical relationship with Hannibal be unseemly under the circumstances? The fact that it was not required or even expected made the idea even more appealing. What would it be like to be with a man for no reason other than mutual want? Even nights with women had been few and far between.

Hannibal placed a warm hand over Will's and brought him back to the present. “You still seem concerned,” Hannibal observed.

“Do you want to…” Will blushed. Hannibal was facing him now and the words abandoned him. “You said you wanted me in your bed but if a broken engagement would humiliate her what would cheating mean? If you really want me to marry Misha then does that mean we can't ever…?”

“Would you want to?” Hannibal asked.

“You were clear about wanting me,” Will said.

“We really must work on your listening skills, William,” he said with a soft sigh. “Answer the questions you are asked.”

“Will,” he corrected quickly. “I prefer Will.”

“Will. I asked about your wants. Please answer the question,” he requested. “Remember I won't pay for lies, I want honesty between us.”

“Yes, but it would complicate things,” he admitted. “You're speaking about this whole idea of marrying into your family like it's very simple but it's not.”

“I believe it is, but sex does complicate things,” he admitted.

“If you simply want me in your home then say so,” Will said. “You don't need to set up a ruse to keep me close enough to seduce.”

“That is not what I am doing,” Hannibal assured him. “I value honesty and I expect it in return. If all I wanted was to seduce you I would have done so already, there are rooms upstairs at the club for the right price. Would you like me to fuck me or would you rather be fucked?” He asked. Will's mouth went suddenly dry and he took a deep gulp of wine. Hearing Hannibal's fine accent wrapped around such vulgar words made his blood rush south and his head spin, cheeks burning. “You are blushing like an innocent maiden,” Hannibal commented with fond amusement. “It's adorable.”

“Are you speaking in hypotheticals?” He asked cautiously.

“That is up to you,” Hannibal answered.

“Once Misha is out…” he started.

“Then it will stop,” Hannibal said firmly. “I do not understand society's harsh judgement of sodomites and I freely admit that I have frequented Molly houses on occasion. However, I do not believe a man should marry if he does not intend to be loyal. I hope you feel the same.”

Will nodded. “Is that why you don't intend to marry?” Will asked. “Because you couldn't be loyal to a woman or do you just not like them?

“I do like women, and could be loyal if I chose to be but I have chosen the life of a bachelor because I am selfish. I would rather not promise my unending loyalty to anyone, man or woman,” he admitted cheerfully. “I am much happier indulging in casual short-term affairs.”

“So, we would carry on an affair but stop before I start officially courting?” He asked.

“Yes,” Hannibal confirmed.

“And that is acceptable to you?” Will asked.

“If you do not feel it is then we will put the subject to bed,” Hannibal answered smoothly.

“No pun intended?”

Hannibal chuckled. “Pun always intended,” he corrected.

Will rested his head in his hand. “This day has been insane,” he said. “This morning I didn't even have a bed tonight.”

“Are you feeling overwhelmed?” Hannibal asked, placing a sympathetic hand on the back of Will's neck.

“Of course!” Will exclaimed. “You looked like an easy target and now I'm potentially engaged to your sister and discussing the possibility of an affair that could see us both hanged if we were discovered. It's a lot.”

“You look exhausted,” Hannibal observed. “This may not be the best time to have this discussion. Let me show you to your room,” he stood and offered his arm to Will. Will meekly accepted and let Hannibal lead him through the halls of the manor.

He noted the arm was unnecessary when they entered a room only two doors down. The room was nicer than any Inn Will had stayed in. The walls were blue with white lace curtains and a canopy bed with sky blue sheets. “Will it suit?” Hannibal asked.

“It's beautiful,” Will admitted.

“There is a washroom to your left and a dressing room next door,” he said. He released Will's arm and opened a wardrobe. “There are enough clothes here to last you until you have your own garments made.”

Will was wandering around the room in awe. It was more a suite than a bedroom. The bed was tucked in an alcove and there was a seating area with a small table in front of the window, in the summer it would be bathed with sunlight. There was even a white baby grand to one side and a small bookcase, mostly empty. Even with the storm raging outside he could see the view would be lovely, wide open fields lined with flowers and a small stable off to the side. “Do you like horses?” Hannibal asked, following his gaze.

“Yeah. I've slept in stables and sometimes I've got a few coins for mucking them out,” Will answered. “Horses are soothing.”

“I agree,” Hannibal said, placing a hand on the small of Will's back.

“We should finish our conversation,” Will said.

“Is there anything more to be said?” Hannibal asked. “We have established that we are attracted to each other, that any relationship would require secrecy and that it would end when Misha enters society.”

“New clothes and anything else…”

Hannibal cut him off with a scoff. “Are not payment,” he said firmly. “Tell me you understand that, please Will.”

“I do,” he answered.

“Would you turn me down were I to deny you things I can easily afford?” He asked.

“Definitely not,” Will answered confidently.

“Then why are they a factor?” He pressed.

“I don't know?” Will answered awkwardly and Hannibal smiled.

“Rest Will. I would feel better if you took some time to consider any arrangement between us,” he said, turning Will towards the tempting, luxurious bedding. He took a small step closer and brushed one of Will's curls out of his eyes, finger top grazing along the stubble that could not quite be called a beard. “I hope you will not insist on cutting your lovely curls,” he added. “I will check on you before dinner.”

Will fell back on the bed as soon as Hannibal left the room. Even with his mind full of swirling thoughts he noticed the bed felt like heaven. He pressed his hand down on the mattress, feeling it sink the perfect amount, it must be stuffed full of feathers, either that or clouds. Just laying on the soft covers that smelled faintly of lavender and lemons made him feel sleepy.

He stripped off the fine fabrics and carefully hung them in the wardrobe before slipping under the covers. He was intending to sleep in his underclothes but the fabric of the blankets was so much more sumptuous he slipped them off and closed his eyes.

Thunder rumbled in the distance and rain softly fell on the window panes. There was no reason to keep one eye open, no danger of someone trying to take what few coins he may have, Will felt completely safe and sleep began to settle over him.

********

There was still some time before dinner so Hannibal decided to take the opportunity to speak to Misha while Will slept.

He had Mrs Hobbs bring a tray of tea to the drawing room and found Misha reading in the library.

“Miela mergina, will you join me for tea in the drawing room?” He asked, smiling as soon as he saw her. Her mere presence brought him such joy.

“Of course Hannibal,” she answered with a smile. She spoke hardly any of their home language but understood minor endermeants from her brother.

When they were settled in the drawing room he began the conversation he had been slightly dreading. “We must discuss your coming out,” he said, grimacing slightly when her face lit up.

“Can I be presented this year?” She asked in excitement.

“No, mano brangioji, not this year,” he said.

“But Hannibal, Cressida Cowper is to come out this year and she is two years younger than I,” she argued. “

“That may be because her Father cannot wait to be rid of her, she is her Mother's daughter after all,” he replied.

“Hannibal, you should be more kind,” she chided him.

“Of course,” he conceded

“Why must I wait?” She asked again. “I have dedicated myself to my studies and been patient but I am ready Hannibal.”

“I know. I have taken a ward,” Hannibal answered. “A relative of a friend who requested our charity, I did not feel I was in a position to refuse,” he said. “The young man is from the country so I cannot guide you both through the season. You understand, miela mergina?”

“Yes Hannibal,” she was disappointed but accepted his reasoning. She trusted her brother to guide her through her first season and the rules of courtship. He was doing a favour for a friend out of charity and she could not be angry with him for that.

“However it is high past time we dropped your hems, would you agree?” He asked. She smiled brightly and nodded. “Good, I must arrange an appointment with my tailor for our ward but hopefully Miss Delecruix will be able to see you before she is drowning in debutantes and wedding dresses.”

“Thank you, Hannibal. Tell me about this ward?” She requested.

“His name is Will Graham. I am very eager for the two of you to meet.”

Chapter Text

Will was roused from his dreams by a polite knocking on his door. Will was used to nightmares filled with blood and wide dead eyes glaring at him in accusation and the monster lingering in the corner of his eye, its gaze hungry. He would've happily slept all night in the plush bed with dreams of wildflowers, horses and soft words whispered in his ear. Will felt better rested than he had in months and the bed was wonderfully comfortable. He slid from the warm cocoon and donned a satin robe before opening the door. Hannibal's eyes travelled over the bare skin of his collarbone before meeting his eyes with a smile. “Good evening Will, did you rest well?”

“Yes, thank you,” Will replied, slightly breathless and acutely aware of how little he was wearing under the thin robe. Hannibal's eyes travelled over the thin fabric before meeting his eyes. “May we come in?” He asked. Will noticed a shorter man stood behind him, watching Will with a kind smile.

“Of course,” Will said, stepping back to allow them to enter. He turned to the wall to secure his robe more tightly.

“This is Matthew Brown, your valet if you agree. Mr Brown, this is Will Graham,” Hannibal introduced them.

“It's nice to meet you,” Will said awkwardly.

“It's a pleasure sir,” Matthew replied, his smile growing wider. He looked more natural with a wider smile, less intimidating than Hannibal if not as handsome. Though Will didn't really know how to talk to the man.

“Dinner will be in an hour, assuming you are feeling up to it,” Hannibal told him. 

“Yes, I'm looking forward to it,” Will lied. He was refreshed from his nap but having digested the events of the day so far found himself feeling nervous of meeting Hannibal's sister, well aware of how highly Hannibal thought of her. Luckily his stomach chose that moment to growl.

Hannibal tilted his head, mouth tilted in amusement. “Then I will leave you to get ready, see you soon,” he said politely, his eyes momentarily flicking to Matthew, who was still looking over Will with interest, before he left them alone. 

“You seem uneasy my lord,” Matthew observed after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

“I'm not a lord,” Will muttered.

“I'm sorry Mr Graham,” he replied.

“Can you just call me Will?” He asked.

“If you would like, Will,” he said kindly.

“Thank you Matthew,” Will said. “I really don't know what I'm supposed to be doing,” he admitted. “I'm new to this kind of life, and I've never had a valet.”

“You'll get used to it soon, as long as you look the part. Society cares about how things look above everything else. Would you like me to help you select an outfit?” He suggested.

“Yes please,” he answered with a relieved sigh. He perched uneasily on one of the chairs as Matthew looked through the wardrobe. “You seem to understand this world. What did you do before this?”

Will asked.

“Servants see everything, I kept quiet and watched. I was a footman at another house but I was expected to valet for guests and the masters recommended me to Count Lecter when he had a guest, a Mr Weston I believe,” he answered.

“Did you not wish to stay there?” Will asked.

“Not since all the children of the home married and moved away,” he answered. “I was one of two footmen, with only two people remaining in the house I was pretty redundant. I'm happy with the promotion,” he said with a smile, setting some garments on the bed, looking between two dinner jackets.

“Oh, that's good then,” he answered.

“Are you uncomfortable, Will?” He asked.

“I'm nervous,” he admitted. “Hannibal has been kind to me but I know how highly he thinks of Lady Misha. I worry she won't like me.”

“I spoke to her once or twice, she is sweet,” he said with a shrug, clearly not as enamoured with her as everyone else he'd spoken to. “At least you can look great,” Matthew said with a smile. He returned a dark red jacket to the wardrobe and carried the rest of the clothes to the dressing room. “Shall we?” Will followed him into the smaller room as he hung up the chosen garments. The jacket he had settled on was a deep royal blue with black trim, his waistcoat and trousers were black velvet and the shirt beneath was a dark plum shade. The brightest part of the ensemble was a silk cravat of rose pink, similar to the shade of Will's cheek when Matthew slid the robe off his body. Matthew kept up a professional air but it was still strange to be nearly naked in front of a stranger.

He gestured for Will to sit at a vanity and knelt at his feet to slide a plum coloured stocking on each left, securing them above his knees with a slim ebony ribbon on each. He dragged his hands down the fabric, smoothing it down before rising to his feet and offering a hand to Will, helping him to stand. Will felt ridiculous clambering into the trousers that Matthew held for him and blushed furiously when Mathew loosely tied up the laces on either side of his hips. The trousers were tight and came to just below his knees, the fabric hugged his thighs, fitting him surprisingly well. 

The whole thing was uncomfortable for Will but Matthew kept smiling at him serenely, the expression soothing, and Will reluctantly let him guide his movements. He raised his arms obediently to allow Matthew to slide the dark satin shirt over his head but stepped away to tuck it in himself. Matthew followed him and took over once it was mostly down, making sure it was neat before tightening the leather ties of his trousers and kneeling to slide on a pair of low heeled black shoes.

He held up the waistcoat for Will to thread his arms through, smoothing the fabric over his shoulders, breath warm on Will's throat. Will noticed the way his body moved when he walked around to Will's front, carefully doing up the small sparkling buttons. His movements were less smooth and elegant than Hannibal's but there was still something predatory about him. It seemed restrained, like a bird of prey in a too small cage. Not frightening but oddly fascinating. He arranged the waistcoat in the correct placement and ran his fingers over the subtle patterns there. 

The pink scarf was the softest thing Will had ever worn. He smiled when the fabric was wrapped around his neck and Mathew caught his eye with a brief wink. His gaze stayed on Will's face as he folded the fabric over itself and pulled it a little too tight, loosening it a little when Will gasped. Matthew smoothed down the fine silk and tucked the ends into his shirt, fingers rough against his skin.

The jacket went on last, heavy and expensive. His dark curls were trapped under the collar and Matthew carefully freed them. “Dark colours suit you, Will,” Matthew told him. “What cufflinks would you like?” He asked, pointing out a glass box holding a selection of small cufflinks and other ornaments. “May I make a suggestion?” Will nodded. “The silver circles with the black onyx would go well with the embellishments on your jacket.”

“That sounds good,” Will agreed. He placed his hands on Mathew's forearm as he carefully attached the delicate ornaments. Matthew added a silver brooch adorned with gleaming black stones to keep the cravat in place. 

“We have a little time before dinner,” Matthew said gently, voice at odds with the familiar heat in his eyes, a burning desire Will recognised. His hands came up to run over the dark coarse stubble on his cheeks. 

“I was thinking of shaving,” Will said awkwardly. Matthew nodded and led Will by the arm into the small space of the washroom. After placing a towel around Will’s neck Matthew lathered up his cheeks with some sort of herbal scented foam and dragged a gleaming straight razor across his skin. Will held his breath as the sharp metal was dragged over his chin and across his Adam's apple. 

Once he was done, Matthew cleaned away the lingering soap and ran his fingers over the smooth skin with a smile. “A good idea,” he assured him. There was a selection of oils in front of the mirror. “Should I style your hair?” He asked, choosing a small bottle.

“Yes please,” Will responded, looking at his face in the mirror. Without the facial hair he looked younger and even… well pretty was the only word that came to mind. The soothing smell of lavender filled the intimate space as Matthew worked the scented oil through his hair, arranging the curls to fall neatly rather than in their usual fluffy mess. He tucked a couple of curls behind his ear and turned Will to face him, fussing with his accessories more than needed before stepping back. “Will I do?” Will asked with a forced laugh, unnerved by his scrutiny.

“You will more than do” Matthew assured him, stepping closer and fiddling with the brooch at his neck before meeting his eyes. “You look good enough to eat.”

“I quite agree,” Matthew took a large step back at Hannibal’s voice. Will had a similar reaction at the chill in his tone, Hannibal threw a cold look at Matthew before smiling warmly at Will, holding out a hand to beckon him forward. Hannibal ran his knuckles over Will's bare cheeks and Will had the urge to rub his cheeks against Hannibal’s hand like a cat. “You do look lovely, clean shaven.”

“Not like an eight year old?” Will joked.

“No, you look like exactly what you are, an attractive young gentleman,” he moved closer, inhaling the air around Will with a frown before striding into the bathroom. He tossed the jar of shaving cream to Matthew who caught it easily in one hand. “This smells atrocious, I'll have Francis replace it with something finer.”

“Shall I dispose of it, sir?” Matthew asked, voice flat and subdued.

“Or keep it for yourself, I don't wish to smell it again,” he said dismissively, more interested in the glass bottles of cologne on Will's vanity. He approached Will and tilted his chin up with one hand, dabbing lemon scented fluid on the part of his neck not covered by rosy silk. “Perfection,” he said softly, settling the fabric of the jacket over his shoulder. “I am pleased these fit so well.”

“Where did they come from?” Will asked, the garnets were not a flawless fit but they were close.

“They were mine,” Hannibal responded. “Though I do think you suit the family colours better than I,” Hannibal himself was dressed in a deep red jacket with a pale green shirt, the jacket bringing out the maroon shades of his eyes. Will's stomach warmed at the knowledge that he was wearing Hannibal clothes. “Shall we?” He offered Will his arm and tucked Will's hand through his elbow, leaving his larger palm on top. “Mr Brown, Mrs Hobbs has prepared a plate for you in the servants hall. You are relieved for the night so you can unpack and settle in.”

“I should be here to help Will undress,” he answered quickly.

“Mr Graham was able to undress himself this afternoon without your assistance. I assure you he is quite capable,” Hannibal responded, his voice silky smooth. Will gave Matthew a kind smile over his shoulder as Hannibal guided him from the room. “How do you find Mr Brown?” He asked.

“He was very helpful,” Will said. “I don't even know where to start with cufflinks and jewellery.”

“That is his job,” Hannibal told him. “If he displeases you please let me know, Mr Weston was very pleased with his taste. I believe he had planned to invite Matthew overseas with him, I'm not sure why he changed his mind.”

Will turned his wrists and watched the onyx reflect light. “I like these,” he said.

“You are in danger of developing a taste for expensive things,” Hannibal teased. “I will be sure to encourage that. Are you ready to meet your potential wife?”

“Does she know who I am?” Will asked nervously.

“I told her you were a relative of a friend who grew up in the country,” Hannibal said. “If I told her I expect her to marry you she would no doubt want the opposite,” he said with a fond smile. “She is not contrary by nature but is at that age where she will not be told what to do.”

He led Will into the elegant dining room where the table was set for three. The silverware gleaned in the candlelight and Will could already smell something fragrant, ready to be served. He was distracted when he saw the young lady standing by the table waiting for them. Lady Misha Lecter.

Will tightened his grip on Hannibal's arm to keep himself steady, his tongue feeling swollen and heavy in his mouth. It was true the picture did not do her justice, she was angelic. She shared certain features with Hannibal, high cheekbones and long lashes, but while darkness hung around him she shone with light, her colouring paler. Her skin was creamy and free of blemishes, her sweet face framed with golden curls and her large eyes were a light honey gold. She was not as tall as Will, a few inches shorter and her body was slight. The minty green dress with blue embroidery looked stunning on her despite its simplicity. She was truly perfect and when she smiled the room seemed brighter.

“Misha, this is Will Graham. Will, my sister, Lady Misha.

She curtsied elegantly with a sweet smile. “It's lovely to meet you Mr Graham,” her voice was musical, accent fainter than her brothers.

“A pleasure Lady Misha,” Will managed softly, feeling his cheeks warm.

Hannibal smiled. Will was already beguiled by her radiant beauty.

Chapter Text

Dinner was the most wonderful thing Will had ever eaten. The white soup was delightfully creamy and sweet served with bread softer than Will had ever experienced. He was careful not to appear as though he was a starving man but he devoured every drop eagerly.

“Is the soup to your liking, Will?” Hannibal asked with a slightly amused smile.

Will quickly swallowed the mouthful. “It is delicious,” he answered. “My compliments to the chef.”

He blushed a second later when he remembered that Hannibal had almost certainly prepared the meal. “Thank you Will,” he responded with a polite smile.

“I feel I should warn you Mr Graham, my brother needs no more compliments,” Mischa said, throwing a teasing glance at Hannibal. She leaned towards Will. “We may have to have the doorways widened,” she told him with a light giggle.

Will chuckled in answer, feeling his smile widen. He had been taken with Mischa's exquisite beauty and now found that he felt a lightness in his chest whenever she spoke to him. Her good natured teasing of her brother was adorable and she was intelligent. “Please call me Will, my lady,” he requested.

“If you shall call me Mischa,” she responded. Will nodded in agreement as their clean bowls were removed by a young man in whose sandy curls were desperately fighting against hair oil. Moments later they were presented with a main course, roasted pheasant with late summer vegetables. “Have you met any of our neighbours yet?” She asked Will.

“No, I arrived in town very recently and I'm afraid you and your brother are my only acquaintances,” he answered.

“We will remedy that very soon,” she responded with a kind smile.

“Yes, Mischa will be turning eighteen in two weeks,” Hannibal told him. “There will be a fair number of people for you to meet.”

“The five eldest Bridgerton children are coming along with their Mother, Lady Violet. She is a most charming lady,” Mischa informed him.

“The five eldest? How many children does she have?” Will asked.

“Give her a moment, counting is a challenge for Mischa,” Hannibal said with a deceptively polite smile.

“Don't be so rude, Hannibal. There are seven,” she answered.

“Are you certain?” Hannibal asked.

“Yes.”

“Try again,” he suggested with barely contained laughter.

“Oh my goodness, Franchesca!” She said with a gasp. “Eight, four boys and four girls, Franchesca is travelling with an aunt of some kind. She completely slipped my mind.”

“Or you tried to count without using your fingers,” Hannibal snorted.

“I warn you Hannibal I will throw a potato at you,” she said, holding back a smile.

“You will not,” Hannibal answered.

“Will, throw your potato at him,” she ordered with a cheeky smile.

“No. Throw your own potatoes,” Will said, enjoying her bright laughter.

“Please do not encourage her,” Hannibal requested, his words barely audible over Mischa's giggles and Will's laughter. His face softened as he watched Will laughing openly and honestly. It was truly a beautiful sight and he wanted to cause that laughter himself. He tried again when his dining companions managed to compose themselves. “If a single food item is used as a projectile I shall separate the two of you during meals.”

Will quickly ate his potatoes as he was feeling tempted to see how Hannibal would react were he to launch it across the table. “Will you tell me about your guests, Mischa?” He asked politely.

She smiled brightly and obliged. “The Bridgerton children were named alphabetically. Anthony is the eldest, he is very handsome and has wonderful manners,” Hannibal's lips twitched but he did not correct her. “His brother Benedict is almost as good a swordsman and a most talented artist, if you can convince him to show you his work. It is often quite the challenge,” she said with a light giggle.

“If you are not up to it, Mischa and his sister have stolen his sketchbook… three times, I believe?” Hannibal interjected.

“Four,” Mischa corrected proudly.

“I will trust your count just this once,” Hannibal remarked. “At least until you finish any dangerous foods,” he hid his smirk in the rim of his glass.

“The other three guests?” Will prompted, dropping his eyes to avoid Hannibal's dancing eyes, knowing he would end up laughing.

“Colin is young, charming and very handsome,” Mischa said with slightly pink cheeks. “He is planning to travel the Mediterranean within the next couple of years, to expand his mind. Do you have an interest in travel?”

“I've never had the opportunity,” Will answered honestly. “London is the farthest I have ever been from home,” not exactly a lie. Will and his Father had resided just outside of London and Will had made his way there with the few savings that had been left to him.

“Do you enjoy a warm climate, Will?” Will forgot the question when he found himself suddenly most distracted by the way Hannibal's lips closed around the silver fork and there was a flash of his teeth tearing into the soft meat of the bird. “Will?”

“Yes “ he managed after a moment. “Yes I am fond of the err… heat.”

“As am I,” Hannibal answered, somehow making the short sentence sound sinful.

“You will change your mind when you see London covered in snow, it's the most beautiful place in the world,” she gushed.

“Second,” Hannibal said quietly. “Italy would be the most lovely honeymoon destination.”

“I quite agree,” Mischa agreed.

“The Bridgerton’s fourth son?” Will prompted, suddenly concerned about saying the wrong thing.

“Will not be attending,” Mischa supplied. “Gregory is very young. The second youngest after little Hyacinth. Daphne is the fourth child. She is absolutely lovely, accomplished, sweet, intelligent and a true beauty. I'm sure you will enjoy her company.”

“I trust your judgement,” Will said. In truth he had been keeping an eye on Hannibal's placid face, watching for a lip twitch or the tiny raise of an eyebrow to indicate disagreement. Mischa had not said a bad word about anyone. He was not sure if it was good breeding, a childlike optimism or had Mischa been lucky enough to only meet good people? The majority of people Will had encountered had few good qualities to speak off except that they paid promptly.

“Her younger sister Eloise is quite the opposite,” she informed with a laugh.

“Not accomplished, intelligent and beautiful?” Will asked.

“Eloise is very pretty, all the Bridgertons are, she is extremely well-read and very sharp witted. Unlike Daphne she is also sharp tongued and rebellious with a rather poor opinion of the opposite gender,” she explained.

“A feminist,” Hannibal chimed in. “She subscribes to the rather radical idea that women have their own brains and voices that they must use and are capable of much more than finding a husband and producing children.”

“Not such a radical view,” Will responded.

“Not when the views of even the most stupid men are given weight,” Hannibal agreed. “Penelope Featherington will also be attending. She does not express her views as loudly as Miss Eloise but I believe she is very intelligent. I mentioned her to you earlier, a great reader.”

“You are attracting her Mother's attention, Hannibal,” Mischa warned him.

“Portia? Odious woman,” Hannibal scoffed. “How on Earth have I done that?”

“She cannot imagine why Pen would borrow so many books if it was not in hopes of marriage,” Mischa informed him.

“Did you overhear this by chance?” Hannibal asked.

“No. She said so whilst I was visiting Pen. Prudence and Phillipa were there too,” she said. “Prudence and Phillipa are her older sisters,” she told Will.

“I shall have to speak to her soon,” Hannibal said tightly, it was clear he did not relish the prospect.

“No please, Hannibal, everytime you speak to her she spends the whole week in a tizzy for fear she has offended you,” Mischa asked.

“Then she should seek not to offend me,” Hannibal retorted. “Penelope is not out in society yet and neither are you. Lady Featherington should keep her idiotic, heinous thoughts to herself.”

“I'm not sure I understand,” Will ventured timidly.

“If her suspicions were shared with the wrong people Pen's reputation would be in tatters and Hannibal's damaged,” Mischa explained. “But once she is presented you will dance with her?”

“Of course, her company is much more pleasing than that of her brainless sisters,” Hannibal answered smoothly. “No more than twice in one night.”

Mischa giggled. “Hannibal is very proud he has never honoured a lady with two dances in one night,” she said with a fond scoff. Will ducked his head as the plates were cleared, not wanting to ask for another explanation so soon.

“Two dances would be a declaration of my intent to court the lady in question,” Hannibal explained without him needing to ask. “As I have no intention of doing so it will be one dance, regardless of how much I enjoy the lady's mind.”

“I look forward to the day you meet the lady who is able to capture your heart,” Mischa said.

“I do not believe such a lady exists,” Hannibal said, eyeing Will as he took a sip of wine. “But I would like to meet such a person too.”

“Pity, I should have liked to have a sister,’ Mischa said.

“To spend your inheritance on silks and feathers?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I would give up a King's ransom to see you happy,” she said.

Hannibal smiled warmly as he put his hand over hers. “I am happy, dear sister,” the young footman arrived, balancing desserts on his arms. “Especially as we are having my favourite dessert. Fresh peaches drenched in brandy spiked cream,” he turned to face Will. “I'm certain you will enjoy it.”

Hannibal's dark gaze focused on Will's mouth as he brought a spoonful of juicy fruit covered in cream to his lips. Will's eyes fell closed at the taste. The sweet juices spilled over his tongue, the spike of alcohol chasing after it and warming his insides. He heard a soft moan escape his tingling lips as he opened his eyes to find Hannibal still watching him intently. Will felt his stomach muscles tighten and he licked his lips before swallowing heavily. “Delicious,” he said, embarrassed by his breathless tone.

“You have a spot of cream,” Hannibal said quietly. He leaned into Will’s personal space and dragged his thumb over the skin below Will’s lip, collecting a dot of cream before sucking the pad of his thumb with a pleased hum. Hannibal's smirk grew when Will felt his skin flush, he was sure his cheeks were scarlet. “Mischa, how was today's dance class?”

Will quietly ate his dessert as he listened to Hannibal and Mischa discuss her various pursuits. He tried to pay attention but found his attention was frequently drawn to Hannibal's long fingers and rosy lips. Hannibal caught his eye once or twice and Will was certain he was taking his time with each bite, sealing his lips around the spoon before drawing it out slowly, eyes dancing with mirth.

“Do you enjoy music?” Mischa asked as their clean bowls were whisked away.

“Very much,” Will answered. “But mostly sea-shanties over classical,” he admitted.

“Then you must hear Mischa sing,” Hannibal said.

“But you must accompany me,” Mischa told him, Hannibal calmly nodded in agreement. “Hannibal is very talented on the piano.”

“Long fingers,” Hannibal said, before draining his glass. “Excellent dexterity,” he gave Will a swift wink as he stood up. His face betrayed nothing as he took Mischa's arm and they moved into the drawing room.

Will had been impressed by the piano in his room but the large drawing room held a huge black grand piano, polished to perfection. Hannibal poured him a brandy and gestured for him to take a seat before he settled himself at the piano with Mischa standing beside him. From where he sat, Will had a perfect view of Hannibal's talented fingers dancing over the keys.

Mischa's voice was even sweeter when she sang and Hannibal's face was soft as he watched her sing. Will had not heard the song before, a ballad about a mystical sea creature held captive and her escape back to her home under the waves. At parts it was melancholy but still beautiful. Will had always loved water, he had childhood memories of submerging his ankles in cool lake water, the mud soft under his feet, between his toes. He had never seen the sea for himself but he had seen paintings and it looked wonderful.

He applauded both when it finished, charmed by Mischa's pleased flush. “Thank you,” she said politely. “I must retire now, I am rather tired. Goodnight Will. Goodnight Hannibal.”

“Sleep well, sweet sister,” Hannibal rose from his seat to kiss her forehead. He returned to the piano bench, idly playing random notes until Mischa's footsteps had faded away.

Silence stretched between them, the air thick and vibrating with tension. Will opened his mouth several times before snapping it shut unsure of what to say, twirling the empty crystal glass between his hands.

“Another drink?” Hannibal suggested.

“Yes please,” Will responded quickly. He could feel a slight buzz already but drinking would give him something to do. Hannibal's fingers brushed his as he took the glass, the touch lingered half a second too long and Will was suddenly very aware of his entire body and how sensitive it felt. Hannibal poured him a generous helping and sat next to him with his own drink, a few inches between them. “Trying to get me drunk?” He joked before taking a deep drink.

“Do I need to?” Hannibal asked with a twinkle of amusement. Will ducked his head but gave a discreet shake.

The silence continued.

“It's a beautiful instrument,” Will said, gesturing to the piano.

“Yes, she is quite old now but has been kept in near perfect condition,” he seemed to find something very funny about that.

“Near perfect?”

“I'll show you,” he tugged Will over to the piano and guided him to crouch. “There is a slight imperfection, if you know where to look,” he took Will’s fingers and guided them under the heavy instrument to feel deep grooves carved into it. “H L and M L,” Hannibal told him. “My uncle was not amused when he caught us.”

“Whose idea was it?” Will asked.

“Mine,” Hannibal said proudly. “Mischa was only four at the time and I was a terrible influence.”

“Did she learn potato throwing from you?” Will teased.

“She has not thrown potatoes or any other kind of food since she was eleven and yes,” he answered, rising to his feet and hiding his smirk behind a drink when Will laughed. “Do you play at all?

“Not really,” Will answered.

“Not really?” Hannibal pressed.

“We lived above a tavern for a while, well tavern slash brothel and I picked up some tunes from the piano player but I never had any training or learned to read music,” he explained.

“If you would oblige me,” Hannibal gestured to the seat. Will hesitated, it has been a while and only knew the most simple pieces. “Please?”

Will nervously sat at the bench and stretched his fingers, trying to remember a song. The only one he could remember was a bawdy tune about an unfortunate Miller's large-breasted and promiscuous wife. His first few notes were shaky but it seemed his fingers remembered the music well enough and he reached the end.

“Brava,” Hannibal said when he was done. “You should develop this talent,” he suggested.

“The piano player made enough,” Will said nodded.

“Enough for what?” Hannibal asked.

“Enough for spirits and the occasional night with one of the prettier girls,” Will said.

“Not the best environment for a child,” Hannibal observed.

“It wasn't so bad. I was too young to know what was going on and the girls were always nice to me,” he argued. He smiled and gestured to his eyes. “They called me baby blue.”

Hannibal took his chin in hand, examining his eyes closely. “I imagine they could not get enough,” he said. “Though in this light they appear more green. Most attractive.”

His long fingers released Will's chin but he did not pull them away; instead he traced the line of his smooth jaw, still gazing into Will's eyes.

Will suddenly felt very much like prey, sat as he was he was forced to look up at Hannibal who was bending over him, moving closer. Will's breathing started to come faster and whole body was warmed by lust. It had been so long since he had genuinely wanted someone, been aroused by an innocent touch. He ached for more, leaning forward with his lips parted as Hannibal moved in closer.

His eyelids fluttered when Hannibal's nose brushed his. He was so close Will could feel his warm exhales against his lips but Will was still trapped in his gaze, unable to look away or close his eyes. Hannibal stayed there, lips an inch away from his, fingers caressing his cheek and eyes burning. Will licked his dry lips and almost whimpered with want when his tongue brushed Hannibal's lips. So close. He didn't know what Hannibal was waiting for but he felt he would combust from desire if he went one more minute without Hannibal's lips on his. “Please,” he whispered breathlessly, the word caught between a prayer and a plea. “Please Hannibal.”

Hannibal's dark chuckle rumbled between them and Will could feel the vibrations under his skin. When his last thread of sanity was ready to snap his eyes fell shut and he closed the distance himself.

Chapter Text

Kissing had never been Will's favourite part of the experience, at least not with men. He had kissed a few girls when he was young, or drunk but with men it had always been for cash. It was also just a gesture before they got what they were really paying for.

But it had never felt so good. When Will's lips had brushed against his, Hannibal had immediately responded, wrapping his strong arms around Will and deepening the kiss. It was not hurried or dirty but soft,  sensual, with intense want simmering underneath. Hannibal comfortably took control of the situation, dragging Will to the edge of the seat, large hands massaging his thighs. 

It felt as though Hannibal would be satisfied to continue kissing him forever and Will really wouldn't mind.

Hannibal's lips were soft and domineering, his tongue carrying the taste of fine whisky and Will's muscles melted. Hannibal's long fingers moved to cradle Will's face sweetly, making him smile into the kiss.

Will moaned into Hannibal's mouth, the sound as soft as a dove's wing and lost in the movements. When his hands curled into Hannibal's hair, Hannibal hooked a hand under one knee, guiding the leg to wrap around his waist. As the wonderful kiss continued, Will felt himself be tilted backwards until his hand landed on the keys causing an awful racket.

“My lord?” Hannibal drew back barely an inch when Francis appeared in the doorway. He reached an arm around Will to lower the key cover but did not move further away. Will was sure his flushed cheeks and heavy breathing made it obvious what they had been doing but when he snuck a peek at Francis his face was perfectly placid. “Is everything well?”

“Yes, thank you Francis, I apologise for the racket,” Hannibal replied smoothly. “You are up late.”

“Just checking the doors and windows are secure my lord,” the likelihood was he was up this late every night but his tone gave nothing away.

“Of course,” with a smile Hannibal smoothly rose to his feet, tugging Will with him. “Goodnight Francis.”

“Goodnight my lord,” Hannibal laced his fingers with Will's and pulled him from the room, passing closely by Francis.

“Has he seen you with men before? He was not surprised,” Will asked quietly as they headed towards Hannibal's room. As mad as it seemed Will could feel a sick curl in his gut at the thought of Hannibal kissing another man the way he had him.

“I mostly meet other men in Mollys or inns so no, he has seen the occasional female guest but no men. I worry about shocking the young ladies resisting here,” Hannibal answered. “If Francis is surprised he hides it well, as well as his opinions. He was the one who caught us marking the piano, he let us finish before alerting my uncle,” he squeezed Will's hand in reassurance. “You do not need to worry, Francis is the most loyal man I have met, he will not betray this family.”

They stopped in front of Hannibal's bedroom door, Hannibal stepped closer, holding both Will's hand in him.

“I will, however, fire him if his interruption killed the mood,” he quipped with a smile.

Will blushed and shook his head. “Not completely,” he answered.

“Good,” Hannibal raised his chin with gentle fingers and kissed him again. Will could feel Hannibal's strength behind every touch but his kiss was still coaxing, reassuring. Any embarrassment at being caught was chased away as his envy pushed him to tug Hannibal closer by his lapels.

Hannibal swiftly opened his bedroom door and drew Will in. The fire was still glowing and oil lamps were set on the bedside tables, the curtains left open. The storm had passed and the bed was bathed in the glow of a full swollen moon. Hannibal released Will and increased the glow of the lamps before shedding his jacket. He moved to the foot of the bed where the light was brightest and held out a hand to Will in invitation. “Come here, love.” 

The moonlight glinting off Hannibal's sharp cheekbones made him look ethereal and almost dangerous. Will's stomach buzzed in excitement and he moved without considering it, drawn to Hannibal by a magnetic pull. Hannibal turned so Will was the one bathed in silver glow, leaving him back-lit by the flickering flames. “You look beautiful, dressed as a gentleman,” he commented softly, his hands caressing the dark stone at his throat.

“I like wearing your clothes,” Will admitted, his voice slightly breathless.

“They suit you,” Hannibal answered. “Although they do hide your shape, which is a crime,” with those words he pushed the ornate jacket from Will's shoulder. The waistcoat followed swiftly afterward. Hannibal's hands travelled over his torso, even through the thin fabric of the shirt the touch was burning. Hannibal pressed a gentle kiss to the sliver of throat that was exposed, making Will's breath catch. He could feel Hannibal's smirk against his throat as he gently licked over the skin there. His long fingers unclipped the jewel and he carefully placed it on a nearby table. The heavy silken tie slipped from Will's skin with agonising slowless, the gentle caress making him long for skin on skin contact.

Will took a step closer, reaching for Hannibal's own scarf. Hannibal stilled his hands for a moment and Will brushed his lips against Hannibal’s with a soft moan and Hannibal allowed him to bare his throat.

Hannibal carefully loosened the ties at Will's waist and tugged the hem of his shirt free. With minimum urging Will lifted his arms and allowed Hannibal to pull the thin shirt away. He admired Will's torso for a long moment before dragging a hand from his shoulder down to his tight trousers. His hand paused at the hem before moving over the fabric and squeezing the swelling between his legs. Will's moan was loud but hollow, and he rocked into Hannibal's hand hissing when it was snatched away. His bright eyes flew up to Hannibal's face.

“Don't perform for me. I don't want a whore, I want you,” Hannibal said softly, running his fingers through Will's curls.

“I've never wanted a man before, not the way I want you,” Will confessed, his cheeks warming slightly.

“I am flattered,” Hannibal replied with a sweet teasing smile. He drew Will into a warm embrace, claiming his lips in a deep sensual kiss. Will's body melted against him and he clumsily tugged at Hannibal's shirt, wanting to feel his heated skin without the barrier of fabric. 

Hannibal nibbled gently on his bottom lip before releasing him and stepping back. He pulled the shirt over his head, stretching out his golden torso. His

shoulders were broad and strong with a thin layer of golden hair sprinkled over his chest. Despite his tough, muscled body, Hannibal's stomach had an inviting softness to it. 

Will sealed his palms over Hannibal's slender waist, drawing circles with his thumb. He pressed a delicate kiss to Hannibal's clavicle, chasing it with a lower, lingering kiss. Will continued moving down his chest, leaving a trail of wet open mouth kisses along the way, until he knelt on the soft carpet at Hannibal's feet.

He nipped at the curve of Hannibal's waist as his fingers fought with the cords holding his trousers in place, mouth watering at the noticeable bulge they hid. He eagerly parted the fabric, pulled the trousers and linen underclothes down until his erection sprung free, already hard and pointing to Will's parted lips. Will licked his lips and wrapped his fingers around his thick shaft, stroking his hand over the silky flesh there, watching it with desire as it grew harder under his touch.

Hannibal let out a rumbling moan and Will arched his neck to see his head tilted back. Hannibal looked down into Will’s eyes with a fond smile, cupping Will’s face in one hand and running his thumb along the cheek bones. “How can such angelic eyes inspire such sinful desires?” He wondered aloud. Will gave Hannibal his most devilish grin and held his gaze as he swirled his tongue around the swollen head, relishing Hannibal's audible exhale.

The warm salty scent made him hunger for more and he sunk his head down onto Hannibal's length, lips stretching around the thick shaft. Will flicked his eyes back up to see Hannibal watching him intently, his breathing heavy. He felt trapped in the amber gaze, warmed by the flickering flames, he adjusted his head to stay holding eye contact and hollowed out his cheeks. 

Hannibal's heavy breathing turned to soft moans, his hands tightening in Will's curls but not controlling his movements. Will began to suck harder when he felt Hannibal's member begin to throb and his breathing became unsteady. With something between a growl and a moan Hannibal stepped back, keeping Will in place. Will couldn't hold back a pitiful wine.

Hannibal quickly disposed of the rest of his clothes and took Will in his arms, kissing him firmly and walking him back towards the bed. When Will's legs hit the soft bed Hannibal gently pushed him down and knelt before him. He tugged off the gleaming shoes and slipped off his silk stocking, stroking over his lower legs. 

Pressing his lips to Will's throat, he used his impressive body weight to lower Will onto his back. Hannibal dragged Will's ass off the bed and quickly removed Will's remaining garments until he lay naked on the bed. His fair, slender body looked pure and untouched against the royal blue bedding. Hannibal crawled above him and together they moved up the bed, kissing and touching. 

The heavy drapes hanging from the dark wood frame cast shadows over their bodies and Will was entranced by the sight of Hannibal looming above him, back-lit by firelight and his eyes blazing red. With a deep kiss to Will's swollen lips, Hannibal moved down his body, sitting up between Will's legs and palming his round ass cheeks. He lifted Will's legs and pushed them back, exposing Will's puckered hole.

He sank down lower, letting Will's legs fall over his shoulders as he blew cool air over the sensitive opening, delighted to see it twitch. Hannibal licked around the hole, drenching the wrinkled skin surrounding it and darting his tongue over the hole, gripping Will's hips when he began to squirm. 

Hannibal moved in closer dragging his tongue over Will's asshole, feeling it relax and open up under his mouth. He sucked on his tongue to make it wetter and pressed it against Will's hole, just teasing the rim before drawing back then pressing back in past the ring of muscles. He wriggled his pointed tongue inside, exploring Will's inner passage and enjoying the soft silky flesh beneath his hands and encasing his tongue. Will was panting breathlessly when Hannibal twisted himself to glance up at him. He saw Will's eyes were wide and his flushed face slack with pleasure. 

With a triumphant smile Hannibal dug his tongue in, pushing in as far in as he could and holding Will close. There was an audible wet sound when he pulled back and sat up, letting Will's legs fall open. He watched Will's flushed body as he sucked two fingers into his mouth, sucking wetly until his fingers were coated with drool. He brought his pointed finger to Will's quivering hole and gently probed it until it relaxed and he was able to easily slip the tip past the muscles there. 

Will let out a soft, low moan as his body rolled on the bedding. The soft sound was so much more erotic than his whoreish moans as was his body's hypnotic movements. Hannibal slowly drove his finger deeper inside, burying himself to hilt. He bent his body to kiss Will's sweet lips again, tasting the sweet sounds of pleasure. Will let out a wordless gasp when a second finger was added, his body tensing before trembling violently. His dick was hard and red, dripping wetness onto his stomach. Hannibal began to thrust his fingers faster, revelling in Will's contented kitten purrs, mixed with choked gasps. His younger body was coated with a thin sheen of sweat and his eyes were open but hazy with pleasure.

With a sharp twist Hannibal withdrew his fingers drawing something between a whine and a growl from Will's pink lips. He stoked the boy's thigh as he drew his tongue over the puddle of fluid on Will's flat stomach. He lay along Will's body, letting him feel his solid weight as he reached into the bedside drawer and retrieved a glass vial of oil. He pushed back Will's knees, exposing his asshole fully, watching it wink in anticipation of his touch. Hannibal let the oil warm between his fingers before spreading it around Will's pretty little hole before pushing inside. Will's eyes were watching as he slicked up his dick with more of the clear oil until his hand easily slid over the thick length.

“Do you truly want this Will?”

“Yes. I want you Hannibal, want you so much.”

Hannibal pressed his forehead to Will's, caging him under his weight as he guided his member into Will’s hot and willing body. He let a long exhale once he was fully sheathed inside, the tight contractions of Will's passage had him trembling already.

Will flexed his legs and extended them to tangle with Hannibal's, planting a foot flat on his bed and using the traction to rock his hips up against Hannibal. “Move, please,” he pleaded in a soft, quivering voice.

Hannibal raised himself to look at Will's flushed face and starry eyes and slowly started to move. The sound of Will's high pitched keen, mixed with his own rumbling moan sounded loud in the soft dimly lit room, the rest of the world forgotten. 

When Hannibal shifted his hips and hit a particularly sensitive spot Will gave a shout of pleasure and immediately covered his mouth. Hannibal seized the hand in his and pulled it to his mouth for a kiss. “No,” he whispered softly. “I want to hear you Will, as clearly as I see you. Gods, you feel like heaven,” Hannibal rotated his hips again, kissing the centre of Will's palm as he moaned, openly and honestly.

Hannibal wrapped his arms around Will, pulling him flush against his body as he set up a slow rhythm. Driving into him deeply and drawing back just as slowly, feeling every inch of Will, drinking in his scent as the heart grew around them.

As Hannibal drove him deeper and deeper into the mattress, Will's hands travelled over Hannibal's skin, clutching and stroking, unable to settle in one place, needing to touch him everywhere. His tongue slipped from his panting lips as and licked a stripe up Hannibal’s windpipe, travelling up to his ear to nip at the lobe. Hannibal took in a sharp breath as he trembled against and inside Will. Will jolted against him and wove his hands deep into Hannibal's hair, dragging face to his for a messy, breath-taking kiss. Desire was raging hot and powerful inside him, igniting his core and setting his heart alight as he tried to swallow the breath from Hannibal's lung unable to get close enough. His hips bucked up in time with Hannibal's thrusts unconsciously and he wrapped his legs around his slim waist, heels digging into Hannibal's plump ass.

As the moon moved across the navy sky they remained lost in one another in the private room, locked away from the outside world, the future and the past. Hannibal could feel his finish building, knowing he was incredibly close and gasping for air. He gripped Will dick firmly in the hand, pumping the length as sweat and pre-cum eased his way. He bowed his head, mouthing at the skin above Will's nipple, his lips and teeth leaving a purple mark on his soft skin. 

Will's body tensed and his back arched deeply as he choked out Hannibal's name and he came with a silent scream. His body fell back slack in a swoon as Hannibal pounded into his limp body before exploding into his ass with an animal exclamation. His heavy body collapsed to the bed beside Will who immediately shifted closer, pressing against his warmth. “That was…” he gasped out, breaking into a tired laugh and letting the sentence hang.

“Yes,” Hannibal agreed, drawing circles on Will's damp shoulder. “Give me a moment,” he pressed a soft kiss to Will's temple before dragging himself from the bed and wetting a towel in his washbasin, watching Will in the mirror.

Will rolled onto his back, his chest sticky with drying fluid. He felt utterly discombobulated but in the most wonderful way. His insides felt exposed and raw and every inch of his body was still fizzing with excitement. He was floating peacefully and didn't notice when tears began to roll down his face.

Hannibal returned to the bed, his relaxed snake disappearing when he saw Will's tears. “What's wrong. Are you Hurt?” He asked gently, concerned he had been too wrapped up in his own explosive pleasure that he had inadvertently injured Will somehow. Hannibal had caused plenty of plain in his life but it was always with intent.

Will's brow furrowed and he realised his cheeks were wet and more tears were lazily falling. He wiped a cheek in confusion and burst into giggles. Burying his face in the pillow he continued laughing breathlessly, his shoulders shaking.

“Will, please tell me what is wrong?” Hannibal pressed, gently carding his fingers through Will's curls.

“I'm fine, sorry I'm laughing, not crying. I think I'm just… overwhelmed or something,” Will clarified, moving so Hannibal could see his bright smile. He wiped away the salty tracks, leaving his eyes dry and bright. Hannibal chuckled softly and carefully cleaned Will's stomach and inner thighs. “I'm tired,” Will said through a yawn, clearly reluctant to leave the comfortable bed, or Hannibal's warm body.

“Come here,” Hannibal pulled Will into his embrace and pulled the soft covers over them both.

“Won't Matthew-”

“Sleep a little while,” Hannibal coaxed. “I'll wake you in time to get back to your own bed, just about.”

“Okay,” Will agreed readily, resting his head on Hannibal's shoulder and easily drifting off. Hannibal would wake him soon, the sky was already turning grey as dawn crept closer but there was still a couple of hours spare. He was tempted to let Will sleep in late enough for Matthew to see he was spoken for but be felt Will may not thank him for that. The purple mark of his  chest would be enough for now.

**********

Lady LiFe's Tattle Tales

Greetings gossips of our beloved ton. The season is coming up fast and as the seamstresses pick up their pace I am here to keep you up to date on all the important news.

One flame haired beauty will be wrapped in darker colours this season due to the passing of her dear Lord husband. We can hope their golden haired treasure can help her through her grief.

I hear on my latest shopping trip that our most prolific family will not be presenting anything to her majesty this season. How disappointing that we must all wait another season to see the angel-faced beauty in all her glory. Can the fourth child truly live up to her reputation? If she must wait until the eldest is wedded we may never see her at all!

Across the street the squaking parrots are also curiously absent. Indeed two may be a little young for the marriage market but what of the elder two? A smart mama may choose to wait to present their daughters until they are at the most attractive, delay a presentation until she has dropped a few pounds of moved past teenage blemishes, but wait too long as you miss the window, condemning the ladies to a life of spinsterhood. A fate even more tragic when the ladies have no brother to care for them after their papa passes.

But there is good news. A certain sour-faced but rich young lady will finally begin her search for a husband to share her fortune. A fortune that has been depleted by the yards and yards of fine silks purchased at the modiste, as well as the rather usual designs requested. It would be such a shame if her hair was to overshadow the lovely dresses that made our very own French poodle so popular.

Most sadly of all is the continued absence of London's exotic flower. Those who have seen the famed forgein beauty say she is as sweet as she is beautiful but it seems her fearsome protecter will be keeping his sister in her ivory tower for another year. 

But there is a silver lining in the form of a mysterious stranger. A flirtatious young footman was called to be valet to a young man staying with the Princess and the dragon. Little is known other than he has the most stunning blue eyes and chocolate curls, also his host summoned the tailor to the house ASAP to dress the newcomer in the finest new fashions. Who is this special mystery man? Perhaps a diversion? Another handsome potential match for the ambitions mamas to fling their daughters at?  If nothing else he is a very handsome mystery.

Rest assured gossips, I will be keeping my eyes and ears on that bit of news. We will all know more when the only thing more frightening than an ambitious mama, a dowager lady, throws her famous season opening ball. 

But no-one will know it before I.

Lady LiFe.

Chapter Text

Will was lost in a pleasant arousing dream, not exactly a dream more like a vision of colours dancing before his eyes as pleasure coursed through him. He relaxed into it, feeling his whole body encased in softness, the softness of a feather bed. A bright spark of white was throbbing in the centre of the colourful display, growing and spreading through the others and taking over. Suddenly it exploded, conquering his vision and pleasure overcame him completely as his brain struggled towards the waking world. “Hannibal,” he gasped, his hands delving into soft strands as he came into the soft warm cavern of Hannibal’s mouth.

His eyes blinked open as Hannibal emerged from the covers, grinning and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “Finally,” he said with a twinkle. Will was still floating as he looked at Hannibal curiously. “You were proving very difficult to wake up,” he said by way of explanation.

“Well I was quite exhausted,” Will responded, feeling even less like moving now. “But I’m awake now.”

“Yes and dawn is approaching,” Hannibal said. “It may be best not to spread rumours when you have just arrived,” he said with obvious reluctance.

“I understand,” Will said, caressing Hannibal’s face gently. He sat up, stretching out his aching body and shifting to the edge of the bed.

When he stood up Hannibal pulled him close for a deep kiss and wrapped the soft pink robe around his shoulder, securing the tie around his waist. “If it was up to me I would keep you here all night, every night and a sizable chunk of the morning. Enjoy the rest of your sleep,” he said affectionately. He tugged Will into an embrace. “In the future I will be taking you to bed much earlier.” he promised.

“Good,” Will said boldly.

With a final squeeze of Hannibal’s hand Will quietly slipped out of the room. The hallway was deserted and grey pre-dawn light came through one of the windows. It was summer so the sun would be up soon but he could manage another couple of hours of sleep before getting up for breakfast. Will quickly crept into his own room and slapped a hand to his mouth to keep from shouting in surprise. The room was not empty. There was a short couch in the seating area and Matthew was curled up asleep in his clothes. He must have ignored Hannibal’s statement that Will was able to undress himself, though it turned out he did not have too. Will silently placed his clothes in the wash basket and slid undergarments back on before disrobing.

He was uncomfortable sleeping with someone nearby but he had no idea when Matthew had fallen asleep and to wake him now would certainly alert him that he had not been in his own bed all night. Will huddled under the covers, coving his entire body up to his chin and facing away from Matthew. He was still exhausted and sleep came faster than he expected, along with a fainter version of his usual nightmare.

**********

Just a few hours later the ton was clamouring for the newest issue of London’s most famous gossip rag. Lady LiFe’s Tattle Tale.

Eloise Bridgerton was one of the first to grab an issue, for all her brains the gossip rag was a vice of hers. If questioned she argued that it was inspirational to see a woman making money from writing, not that she needed it. The suspected author had inherited a sizable inheritance when her much older husband passed away at the beginning of the summer, leaving her very rich and a single mother to the heir.

“I really do not understand why Lady LiFe bothers not to call people by her name. She is hardly discreet. Though she does bring up Daphne’s beauty,” Eloise announced, smirking when she saw her older sister try to hide a smile.

“Eloise why do you insist on reading that silly magazine, it is nothing but speculation and rumours,” her Mother scolded.

“Speculation and rumours about this family and my friends,” Eloise pointed out. “She mentions the Featherington’s too, calling them squawking parrots and Misha too, the princess and the dragon,” she quoted.

“Does she say anything about the rest of the family?” Hyacinth asked, joining Eloise on the couch to look over the page.

“Hyacinth no, it is bad enough your sisters listen to this chatter I won’t have it polluting your mind too,” Violent said, though the girls were not listening.

“She wonders if Daphne will not be presented until Anthony is married though he seems to be determined to avoid it forever,” Eloise told her.

“You won’t make her wait that long will you Mama?” Hyacinth asked in distress. Unlike Eloise, Hyacinth looked forward to her own coming out, one she would not have until Daphne and Eloise had their own celebrations.

“Daphne is dropping her hemlines this year and she will be presented next year as was always planned,” Violet confirmed. “Anthony’s decisions, foolish as they may be, will not change that,” she sent a disapproving glance towards the window where the three eldest Bridgertons were fencing while their younger brother watched them, laughing when Anthony knocked Colin onto his back. “Are you sure you do not wish to be presented with your sister?” She asked Eloise.

“I’d be happy not to be presented at all so for now I will accept the delay,” Eloise responded. The statement was true but if her Mother was truly honest it would be ridiculous to announce them both in the same season. Daphne was the perfect debutante, marriage minded and accomplished. Eloise was just as smart, possibly more so and she sang well enough and had some piano skills but compared to her perfect sister Eloise would look a fool. She would have been happy to remain unmarried but if she must be thrust onto the mart she had no desire to compete with Daphne who would no doubt find a fine match her first season.

“Who is she?” Hyacinth asked, taking the paper from her sister. “The F key is fine in the text so the capital F in life must be deliberate,” she said thoughtfully.

“Up until three years ago she was Miss L,” Eloise informed her, then she changed to Lady LiFe,” she supplied.

Hyacinth read over the article again. “She is sparing with her compliments, mostly insulting them or someone in their family in the same breath. She even calls Madame Delecour a poodle,” she went on, thoughtfully. “But whoever this flame-haired beauty is, she is sympathetic towards. Lady Fenwick has red hair,” she checked. “What was her maiden name?”

“Lounds,” Eloise said with a smile.

“So Lounds and Fenwink, L-F LiFe,” she said with a triumphant smile.

“A cat could figure that out once they have the evidence,” Eloise said, not unkindly.

“I bet Gregory couldn’t,” Hyacinth argued.

“You are right but in a few years he will be able to whack other men with sticks so it hardly matters,” she answered with a smirk.

“I am also sympathetic to Lady Fenwick,” Daphne interjected, giving up on her piano practice. “Kindness is not a bad thing.”

“Quite right,” Violet agreed.

“Luckily it is also an attractive quality,” Eloise said with a sickly sweet smile. She plucked the rag from Hyacinth’s smaller hands and stood.

“Hey!”

“You should have saved your pin money instead of adding more decoration to your hair,” Eloise advised, tugging on Hyacinth’s new ribbon. “I’m going to visit with Penelope,” she told her Mother, Violet nodded her permission.

“Yes, please take that awful rag away from your sister,” Eloise smiled and took the paper with her.

“I miss Francesca,” Hyacinth sighed, slumping back on the sofa as Daphne began to play the piano again. “Her music was better too,” she mumbled.

**********

Will felt surprisingly well rested when Matthew woke him the next morning, in fresh clothes. It was later than usual and clearly his valet was not pleased with his late night. He did not say anything directly to Will but he spoke sparingly and his movements were less gentle until it came to styling Will’s hair.

He coated his hands in oil and combed through his tangled curls with the same gentle movements, separating the strands carefully and massaging his scalp. “You can cut it if you like,” Matthew commented quietly.

“Count Lecter suggested I keep it long,” Will responded as Matthew twirled a few locks around his fingers, encouraging the natural curls.

“You are not looking to marry his lordship,” Matthew said with a hint of sourness. Will stepped away and looked at him in surprise. “I only mean that his preferences are not important, in a month you’ll be courting debudants,” he said, guiding Will closer so he could neaten the hair brushing his collar.

The scarf around his neck was still loose and Matthew fingers travelled over the small collection of perfumes before choosing a small bottle that smelt of something warm and spicy and very strong It was similar to the cream Hannibal had objected to though Will did not see the problem and Matthew applied it rather liberally before tightening his navy cravat, arranging to cover his neck right to the chin. He chose a pewter knotted broach to hold it in place. “Lovely,” Matthew said, finally cracking a smile. Will checked his reflection in the mirror, he wasn’t sure about today’s attire.

Last night his clothes had been dark but also rich and ornate, today it was different. The dark shades were muted and seemed to overwhelm his slender body, the clothes were still fine quality but it didn’t fit as well. “Do you think?” He asked with uncertainty.

“Of course,” Matthew answered, adjusting the brooch with tenderness. “You’ll be devastating once his lordship has you all dressed up like a proper gentleman.”

A sharp knock came to the door and when Matthew opened it, Francis stood there, his presence calm and oddly soothing rather than intimidating. “Good morning,” he greeted. “I brought a new shaving cream,” he said, handing it to Matthew. “I think you will enjoy it,” he added with a tight smile to Will. Will ran a hand over his skin, it was still smooth, he never had to shave often but he was grateful for the new cream.

“Thank you,” Will answered. He had expected to blush furiously every time he saw Francis but he acted as though he had witnessed nothing and even seemed slightly less intimidating than he had before. Will was starting to think he liked the stoic man. Hannibal certainly trusted him and that was a massive boost in his favour.

Matthew accepted the cream and sniffed it, making a face before handing it to Will. He unscrewed the top and inhaled, a smile coming to his face. The scent was light and citrusy, bright and clean and it reminded him of the perfume Hannibal had chosen. Will’s mind drifted a little, he’d noticed Hannibal’s dark, earthy scents even before last night but this was different and the tub was full. Hannibal had not simply asked Francis to send some of his own; he had bought a new tub with a scent he liked on Will. “It’s very nice Franics, you have excellent taste, thank you,” he responded, his tone almost questioning.

Francis’s lips twitched. “Lord Lecter selected in himself, Mister Graham,” Will did blush at that even as Francis departed and Matthew placed the foam by the washbasin.

Will could feel himself smiling. It was silly, he knew, Hannibal wanted him to smell pleasing but every gift made him feel warmer in his stomach as did the hand me down clothes and his small smile. Will had been alone since he was young and even then he was often neglected, his Father had been a good man and loved him even though Will killed his Mother coming into the world. But he had to work to keep them both fed and watered so Will was often left to amuse himself. The inn slash brothel was the closest thing he had to a childhood home so most of his time was spent with the working women and occasional man which the main pimp, an overweight inebriate, had hated, at least until Will had grown into his long awkward limbs. Once his Father passed Will quickly sought work elsewhere. Having Hannibal think of him, pay attention to him, was intoxicating and made his stomach flutter.

“Will!” Matthew's voice was loud and close, causing Will to jump. “Sorry you were miles away,” Matthew said with concern.

“Sorry, I’m just tired, need breakfast,” Will mumbled, embarrassed at his love sick behaviour.

“Yeah,” Matthew muttered, eyes on the floor.

“Matthew,” Will started cautiously, not sure about what words to choose. “I am sorry for my late return last night. I think there was some miscommunication. I would not have stayed up so late had I realised you would be forced to wait up for me,” he said with a kind smile.

“It is my job to assist you Will, even when Count Lecter sees fit to relieve me early,” he said, his voice turning colder around Hannibal’s name. “What kept you up so late?” He asked. Will knew it was overly familiar and none of his business but Matthew had been so kind to him the day before and he wanted that friendly atmosphere back.

“Probably sleeping in the middle of the day,” he answered with a short forced laugh.

“You were up alone?” He pressed.

“No, I was talking with Hannibal and it got late,” he answered, feeling like he was defending himself and beginning to get irritated.

“You were with him, not Lady Mischa?” He asked, overly interested.

“Yes,” he answered, confusion clearing. “Oh, I think I understand. Lady Mischa is every bit as lovely as everyone has told me but I know enough about this world to know that to stay up late with her, unchaperoned, is completely inappropriate, especially as she has not formally come out yet. You don’t have to worry, I have no intention of ruining her reputation.”

“Of course not,” Matthew answered with a resigned shake of his head. “You should go join the house for breakfast, I will see you before dinner,” Matthew said eventually, again too bold but Will did not care. Instead he smiled and headed downstairs, forgetting everything when he reached the dining room.

The table was full of sweet cakes and pastries and Will suddenly realised how ravenous he was, his mouth watering. Mischa and Hannibal were already seated and eating; it was clear Will had walked in on an intense family discussion.

“No, these gossip pages are a waste of money and responsible for the death of far too many trees, I will not have them in this house,” Hannibal said firmly.

“You know I will only read El or Pen’s copy,” Mischa argued, raising her chin in defiance.

“At least it keeps you from memorising quite useless slander,” Hannibal said. “Good morning Will,” Hannibal greeted warmly.

“Good morning,” Will greeted, his face almost splitting with a grin.

“You look happy this morning,” Mischa commented pleasantly.

“I slept well,” Will answered, not a total lie, his limited sleep had been restorative. Mischa looked as beautiful as she had the night before dressed in a sky blue day dress with her hair piled up atop her head, the elegance of her long limbs even more obvious with her neck exposed. Will was struck by her loveliness once again as he took a seat, once again between her and Hannibal.

“I’m afraid you’ve caught us in the middle of a rather silly debate,” Mischa confessed. “Hannibal is being unreasonable again.”

“Oh?” Will raised an eyebrow, anticipating amusement.

“He often is,” she confided in a stage whisper.

“While Mischa is being childish,” Hannibal chimed in with mild disapproval.

“You are mentioned as am I,” she argued. “Often. Do you expect me to be presented with no knowledge of what has been said about me?” She asked.

“These pages do not contain facts and any man worthy of your attention will recognise that,” Hannibal told her.

“What about other women?” Mischa countered. “Ladies read these pages and they talk. Will, what do you think?” Will had been watching the exchange in silence while devouring a heavy sticky slice on honey cake.

“I’m not sure what you are discussing,” he admitted.

“I’m sorry, we are talking about London's most accurate gossip magazine,” she explained.

“A gossip magazine?” Will asked.

“Oh yes, a mysterious woman calling herself Lady LiFe collects all the news about what’s going on in the upcoming season and after a summer of silence she is back! Hannibal does not let me get my own copy,” Mischa explained.

“Why has she been silent?” Will asked, not really understanding the appeal or Hannibal’s objections.

“Hardly anyone is in London out of season, some are still at their country estates now. Whoever she is, she only prints during the social season,” Mischa told him.

“So it’s a newspaper?” Will asked.

“No,” Hannibal interjected. “It is a gossip rag, this ‘Lady LiFe’, who is not so mysterious, only reports pointless speculations about whoever she finds interesting,” he said with a scoff of derision.

“You don’t know for certain who she is,” Mischa told him.

“Yes I do and so do you, so does everyone with half a brain. How old is Hyacinth now, ten? I’m sure we could ask her and she’d confirm my theory,” Hannibal argued. “The woman behind the poisonous pen is Lady Fredrica Fenwick, hence why the author had not a critical word to say about her marriage to a man easily old enough to be her father or speculated on the father of her child.”

“Hannibal!” Mischa exclaimed.

“I do not mean anything by it, the little lord is the image of his and I do not doubt his parentage but was the author anyone but Lady Fenwick she would have sowed the seeds of doubt simply to generate sales,” Hannibal said.

“How do we know the writer isn’t Lord Fenwick, hoping to anonymously flatter his wife?” Will suggested.

“A romantic idea,” Hannibal praised. “However he passed away early this summer. He was one of the least annoying ton members although why on Earth he married that woman I have no idea.”

“They fell in love,” Mischa insisted. “He was not her only offer, plenty of younger men just as rich threw their hat in the ring, she wanted him.”

“How do you know all this?” Will asked.

“From the paper,” Mischa supplied. “Hannibal refuses to allow me to spend my own pin money on it but he cannot keep me from reading my friends’ copy.”

“So many books in the library and you want that,” Hannibal said with disapproval.

“So?” Will asked.

“Excuse me?” Hannibal asked.

“If it’s all just meaningless chatter then why bother banning it?” Will asked. “And if all the other ladies are going to be chatting about it you could be at a disadvantage,” Will suggested. “If every other lady coming out spoke fluent Greek wouldn’t you want to do the same?” Will asked.

“I’m so glad you bought him here,” Mischa said with a triumphant smile, reaching over to squeeze Will’s hand. Will smiled at that, especially when her hand lingered. Hannibal had him head over heels, filling him with a burning passion, but Willd did feel a growing affection for the woman he was intended for. Hannibal was right, Mischa was incredibly easy to love.

“I suppose your argument has some merit,” Hannibal admitted begrudgingly. “It is your pin money to waste, although there are some ribbon in the windows of the modiste that would suit Fortuna very well,” he added.

“Who is Fortuna?” Will asked.

“My horse,” Mischa answered. “She is beautiful, maybe something new for her would be better,” Hannibal hid his smile behind a slice of plum cake but Mischa noticed. “But I will still be reading the latest issue.”

“If you wish,” Hannibal said mildly, dabbing his mouth and standing. “I do need to check on the stables this morning. I recall you said you like horses, would you care to join me?” Hannibal asked.

“Yes, I love horses,” Will said eagerly, standing up.

“You can finish your breakfast,” Hannibal said, a soft amusement warming his eyes.

“I’m done,” Will said. “Let’s go.”

“Very well,” Hannibal said. “Give my best to the ladies if I do not return before they visit,” he bid Mischa, who nodded and continued nibbling on a light lemon cake.

Hannibal led Will out into the gardens, the rainstorm had cleared the air some and it was pleasantly warm. They walked slowly as Will took in the neat flower beds and blooming trees. “It’s beautiful out here,” Will observed.

“Yes, did you truly sleep well last night?” Hannibal asked.

“Better than usual,” Will answered honestly.

“How do you usually sleep?” Hannibal asked.

“It depends on where I can find a bed,” Will replied. Hannibal waited for him to elaborate. “I have recurring nightmares,” he admitted.

“You appeared most peaceful,” Will commented.

“I didn’t dream until I got back to my room,” Will explained. “Even then they weren’t quite as vivid as usual.”

“Perhaps having another presence is good for your mind,” Hannibal suggested with a slight smirk. Will thought about mentioning Matthew’s presence in his room but thought better of it. “I do believe in the theory that dreams have meaning, would you care to share?” He asked.

“They would bore you,” WIll said quickly, eyes dropping to his shoes. If there was one thing that he wanted to hide more than his dreams it was the reason for them.

“I doubt that,” Hannibal pressed, watching Will closely.

“Just bad memories,” Will clarified. “Nothing to analyse.”

“You seem uncomfortable,” Hannibal said, voice gentle but unable to hide his curiosity.

“I’m tired.”

“You said you slept well.”

“I did but not for long,” Will argued, getting irritated now.

Hannibal paused before responding. “If you do not wish to share I will not push you,” he eventually said, sweeping up Will's hand and pressing a sweet kiss to his inner wrist.

“Thank you,” Will said, feeling like a stubborn child.

“We may both have our secrets, for now,” Hannibal said.

“Now I want to know yours,” Will said with a short laugh. Hannibal chuckled along with him.

“Some I will take to my grave,” Hannibal promised.

“Others?” Will asked.

“Others are not mind alone to share,” Hannibal answered.

The conversation finished when they arrived at the stables. The windows were high up and rather dusty leaving the structure shady and cool, the main source of light from the open doors. The horses stepped forward to investigate the sounds. “Hello Nelly old girl,” Hannibal said softly, stroking the nose of the horse nearest the door. Her body was a dull grey and her mane and hair was a dark ash grey but when Hannibal stepped forward she bumped his shoulder. “Nelly is friendly. Come say hello.”

“Hey girl,” Will said, petting her neck.

“Nelly is an old lady now but Mischa learned to ride on her so she will live out her days here in comfort,” Hannibal said affectionately. “A gentle soul,” Hannibal petted her again and moved deeper into the stable.

A couple of stalls down were two younger and stronger looking horses. One was huge, jet back as was his tail and man, next to him was a smaller chestnut horse whose ruby coloured hair gleamed even in the low light. Her mane was plaited with pale blue ribbons. “This is Fortuna, Mischa’s mare,” Hannibal said, leading Will to the chestnut mare who regarded him with curiosity before nudging his face in a bid for attention. “Much like her owner, Fortuna loves everyone she meets,” he assured Will as he moved over to the darker horse. “Thor,” he said proudly.

“Yours?” Will asked, keeping a little more distance between himself and the inky black animal who was watching him with intensity.

“Yes, he is from a champion bloodline and runs like the wind, a fine jumper too” he said fondly. He retrieved an apple from a bag a few feet away and handed it to Will. Will let himself be drawn closer to the massive horse. Hannibal took Will’s hand in his and laid it out flat with the apple in the centre before raising it towards Thor’s mouth. He stood close behind Will, his cheek pressed to Will’s with his free arm tight around Will’s waist. Thor looked between the two of them before bowing his head to accept the snack. “Now he will love you forever,” he whispered in Will’s ear. “I promise My handsome boy,” he said fondly, patting the horse's neck. “This was what I was hoping to show you,” he said, pulling Will away from Thor and towards a stall at the back.

There was a pale white horse in the stall, looking towards them but unsure if she wished to come forward. Hannibal offered her an apple and coaxed her closer with soft words. “There’s a good girl,” he said as she took the treat.

“She’s stunning,” Will said. The young filly had a coat as white as snow and her mane and tail shone like silver in the low light, she was the smallest and absolutely lovely. Her lower legs were a light grey and she moved with admirable grace.

“She arrived yesterday, also of champion stock but a mild leg injury means she will sadly never be a winner in her own right,” Hannibal said.

“Don’t they normally put them out of their misery if they can’t race?” Will asked.

“What misery? The injury healed quickly but had she continued racing it was likely to happen again, I acquired her for a very low price,” Hannibal said, gently stroking her face as he relaxed for him. “I have a mind to breed her with Thor, they both have excellent genes. But right now the young filly is still settling in,” he said. “She will need a name, do you have a suggestion?”

Will patted the filly's neck, she was a true beauty from nose to hoof, he looked between her and Thor who was craning his neck to see the new arrival. They would make a handsome pair. “You have a norse God already,” he stated.

“And Fortuna, the roman Goddess of fortune,” Thor added.

“Persephone?” Will suggested.

“Hades’s Queen.”

“Or captive,” Will said. “Depending on the version you hear. What do you think?”

“I think it is perfect,” Hannibal said, pressing a kiss to Will’s cheek. He turned Will to face him fully and pulled him into a deep kiss.

“Did you just lure me out here so we could have some privacy,” Will asked, kissing him back with a smile.

“No, I hoped you would join me for a ride, privately,” Hannibal said. “What do you think?”

“Yes.”

Chapter Text

Not long after Hannibal and Will had set off on their ride Penelope and Eloise arrived at the grand house, settling in the drawing room with Mischa to chat about the latest gossip.

“I thought you were hoping to be presented this season?” Penelope asked Mischa after the rag had been thoroughly read and those spoken of identified.

“I was but now that Hannibal had taken in Will he won't be able to chaperone me properly. He wanted me to wait a little while longer anyway but I am seeing Madame Delecour in a couple of days to have my hemlines lowered and Hannibal had promised I can come out next season,” Mischa said with excitement.

“Better you than I,” Eloise commented. “I wish my Mother was as reluctant to deal with the marriage mart as your brother.”

“I’m glad you and I will be dealing with this together,” Penelope told Mischa. “You’re much better company than either of my sisters,” she giggled. “Are you sure you won’t come out with us El?”

“Absolutely not!” Eliose responded. “I will be spending this season and the next trying my hardest to avoid this whole arcane ritual.”

“You do not find it romantic at all?” Mischa asked. “The parties, all the decor and shows and the dancing. It’s like a fairytale.”

“I always preferred gothic romance to fairytales,” Eloise answered with a small smile. “But no I do not find it romantic to be dressed up like a cupcake and paraded around like a prize pig, hoping that any man will choose you whereas your opinion is not taken into account at all. Then, if you are successful in how you smile and simper you spend the next day doing the same thing while also pretending to be swept away with terrible poetry and gifts until eventually you pick the least objectionable of however many suitors you are able to acquire and that is it, or the rest of your life,” she stated.

“You make it sound so tragic,” Penelope observed.

“It is tragic. So many intelligent women marry some ridiculous man and are never heard from again. They settle down in the country and have far too many screaming children,” she continued.

“Children are delightful,” Mischa objected.

“But life is over once you have married. We are taught how to attract a man and that is it all. You will have fulfilled your purpose within a year and then it’s done,” Eloise claimed. “Tragic.”

“Not if you marry the right man,” Mischa told her. “If Hannibal were to arrange a marriage with a terrible man then I would share your view.”

“And you trust him not to?” Eloise asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Good.”

“So tell us about this Will,” Penelope requested. “Is he as attractive as Lady LiFe says?”

“Yes,” Mischa said with a light blush. “He is very lovely and sweet. He has the most charming laugh, beautiful eyes and a very pleasing smile. But you’ll meet him yourself on my birthday.”

“I look forward to it,” Penelope said.

“Is he clever?” Eloise asked.

“Hannibal likes him so I expect so,” she answered. “He only arrived yesterday so I’m afraid I don’t have much to say but yes he is very attractive,” she answered.

“Do you think he is after a wife?” Penelope asked.

Eloise scoffed. “I can’t imagine why not,” Mischa said.

“Because he is young and pretty and a man thus has options other than marriage,” Eloise suggested. “Not all men must marry, Antony is determined to be a bachelor for life as is your brother.”

“Antony has three younger brothers to provide an heir,” Penelope said. “It would be different if he were the only boy.”

“Hannibal is an only son,” Eloise pointed out.

“Hannibal will do as he wants regardless. I suppose his titles and fortune will pass to my husband or son,” Mischa said. “I think Will is an only child.

“Is he rich?” Eloise asked.

“Not as far as I know, he’s not titled. Hannibal told me he was a relative of a friend and he’s taken him in for charity's sake,” she filled them in. “I think you will both like him.”

“You like him,” Eloise pointed out.

“Of course,” Mischa answered innocently.

“I think she means more than like,” Penelope informed her with a slight smile.

“Why not marry him and escape all the hoopla,” Eloise suggested.

“I want the hoopla,” Mischa said. “You marry him!”

“Not if I can help it!” The three girls giggled.

“We really shouldn’t be talking this way,” Mischa pointed out. “None of us are open to proposals yet, it’s improper.”

“Ladies talk, who can it harm?” Eloise asked.

“That depends who is listening,” Penelope observed. “But Mischa is right.”

“Then should we talk about silks or flower arrangements?” Eloise asked, as though these were dire topics of conversations.

“On the subject of clothes I happened to be visiting the modiste at the same time as Cressida Cowper,” Penelope informed them. “Lady LiFe is not exaggerating. Madame Delcour looked ready to strangle her with the quite ridiculous amount of fabric she ordered, the designs sounded horrendous.”

Mischa poured more tea. “Do share, I am starved for girl talk.”

**********

It wasn’t until Will had agreed that he realised he had never actually ridden before and it seemed there was no stable boy to assist him. He tried to mimic Hannibal’s movements but Persephone was more nervous than Thor and took a lot more coaxing to even come out of her stall. Will was able to soothe her with soft words and gentle pats but the extra time it took meant he missed how the saddle was secured on the horse.

He stood awkwardly by the filly, unsure what to do. Hannibal noticed and smiled softly. “Have you ever ridden before?” He asked.

“I don’t think so,” Will mumbled. “No, I’ve never had a reason to.”

“Then this will be your first lesson,” Hannibal said pleasantly, retrieving a saddle from the wall.

With no servants around they were relaxed together with no-one to catch them and no reason to keep a respectable distance. Hannibal saddled up Will’s horse, guiding him through the movement and how to secure the equipment, almost holding Will in his arms as he did so. Will listened but couldn’t help but lean back slightly, enjoying Hannibal’s warmth. “Are you listening, Will?” He asked, voice playful.

“Yes,” Will answered, pressing himself against Hannibal.

“I don’t think you have absorbed a single thing I have said,” he continued, a hand coming to rest on Will’s hip.

“I’m listening,” he insisted.

“You’re distracting me,” Hannibal corrected.

“I can do both,” Will said with a cheeky smile.

Hannibal chuckled and lightly slapped his ass. He took down to bridles, handing the smaller one to Will. “Here, I’ll talk you through it,” he took his time placing the harness on Thor, allowing Will to mimic his movements, impressed with his quick learning. Thor was fussing, unused to slow movements and ready to be outside.

Hannibal attached a bag of snacks and drinks to Thor’s saddle and checked the length of Will stirrups. He showed Will how to mount properly without spooking the nervous horse, keeping a hand firm on his thigh until he was settled before mounting his own stead.

“She should follow along on instinct but I will make sure you don’t fall behind,” he said, urging Thor ahead. Persephone followed them out and soon they were riding parallel. Will found it more comfortable than he expected, even with the soreness from the night before and the sweet smell of flowerbeds hung in the air.

“We are close to some popular parks if you would like some introductions. I’m sure once you are spotted there will be many a mama desperate to make your acquaintance,” Hannibal informed him.

“Why?” Will asked.

“You are new and lovely thus very interesting,” Hannibal told him. “You must beware of their intentions or who will be made to dance until your shoes fall apart.”

“Can I not turn down a dance?” Will asked, biting at his lower lip.

“You will not be asked to dance but the more determined mamas have many ways to trick a gentleman into asking for their daughter's hand,” Hannibal warned him. “The trick is to escape before they trap you and to only agree to dance with ladies you find least objectionable, perhaps those already betrothed.”

“Will you teach me how?” Will asked.

“Of course,” Hannibal said. “You are my responsibility this season, I will be watching over you at every dance.”

“I don’t know how to dance either,” Will mumbled.

“That won’t be a problem,” Hannibal assured him. “I have seen the way you move, in and out of the bedroom and your natural grace will serve you well.”

Will blushed furiously at the comment, more so when Hannibal winked. “Tease.”

“You can join Mischa lessons and I will help with your practice,” Hannibal told him. “Don’t worry, I will make sure you know everything you need to.”

“So I’ll be good enough for Mischa?” Will asked.

“My sister’s happiness is important to me,” he looked at Will for a long moment.

“She’s wonderful,” Will admitted, speaking honestly. “Even with, what we’re doing, I really like her and I'd like to make her happy.”

“A solid basis for a marriage,” Hannibal agreed.

“I am still concerned about her finding out what we’re doing and repercussions,” Will admitted.

“I’m not,” Hannibal said lightly, rounding a corner to reveal a sparkling lake.

“Wow,” Will said, in awe of the natural beauty.

“The trails where people who wish to be seen are on the other side of those trees but here we are hidden from any eyes, just us two. Are you hungry?” He asked.

“I could eat,” Will agreed.

They dismounted from the horses and tied them to a tree in the shade. The two moved closer, becoming more familiar with each other. Will watched them for a couple of seconds before taking a seat next to Hannibal, accepting a box of succulent strawberries. “Delicious,” Will commented.

“I have high expectations when it comes to food, only the best for me and mine,” Hannibal said. The final word made Will’s stomach swoop and he could feel his face warm. “Yes, that does include you,” he added.

“I hope you do not let these worries about discovery trouble you too much, the only person likely to notice is Francis, as long as we do not flaunt it,” Hannibal said. “My bigger concern is that I will never have another lover quite as lovely or responsive as you.”

“We have a year, you may be bored of me by then,” Will joked.

“A very slim possibility,” Hannibal admitted. “But yes we do have a year.

“I need to go to my own room in future,” Will informed him. “Then come to yours once Matthew has left.”

“He is unhappy about being relieved in the evenings?” Hannibal asked, amused but also confused.

“He didn’t leave, last night,” Will admitted awkwardly. “When I got back to my room he was asleep on the couch.”

“Ah,” Hannibal said, his tone becoming chilly.

“When I woke up in the morning he was changed so he must have left after I fell asleep but I don’t know whether he was waiting up for me or something,” Will yammered, nervously.

“Did you speak to him about it? I did make sure to tell him he had the night off,” Hannibal asked.

“Yes, I mentioned it, that I didn’t realise he’d be waiting for me but he just said that it’s job and asked what kept me up,” Will said.

“What did you tell him?” Hannibal asked with curiosity.

“I told him that I wasn’t tired because I had a midday nap and that you and I stayed up talking,” Will answered. “I think he was concerned that I was alone with Mischa late at night.”

“Perhaps,” Hannibal mused. “Matthew may not have been the best choice of valet.”

“No, don’t fire him, that's not what I meant,” Will said quickly. “I don’t want someone to lose their job, especially since he was just trying to protect her reputation.”

“We can give him more time,” Hannibal said. “But please do not hide it if he does overstep his bounds. The last guest he served was delighted with his services but that does not mean I trust him,” Hannibal said firmly. “Francis has proved his loyalty to this family, I do not give that level of trust easily.”

“Is Francis…” Will wasn't sure how to end the sentence. Talking about the subject still felt taboo, dangerous.

“I have no idea,” Hannibal answered. “It is not my business so I have never asked. If you have a burning curiosity he will most likely answer honestly.”

“No, it's his business either way. I only, I wonder why you trust him,” Will said.

“I told you some of my deepest secrets were not mine alone to tell,” Hannibal said. “But let us not speak of darkness when we have the sun and privacy,” with a smile he slid his hand under Will's jacket, encouraging him to slide it off. He fingers the pewter pin on his scarf with a mild frown. “Where did this come from?” He wondered.

“Wherever the others did, I guess,” Will said, confused. “I don’t know, I let Matthew pick it.”

“No, this did not come from me. Are you particularly fond of it?” He asked.

“I prefer the ones with the silver around the jewel like the one I wore last night,” Will answered honestly. “I know nothing about jewellery,” he admitted.

Hannibal unclipped the broach and tucked it safely in his pocket with a thoughtful look. Will shuffled closer and removed the clip from Hannibal's cravat, loosening the fabric. Hannibal forgot about the ornament and smiled as his scarf fell to the ground and he shrugged off his jacket before baring Will's neck.

With Hannibal's hand in his hair, Will let his head be guided back, stretching his neck out as Hannibal pressed hot wet kisses along with length before stealing his breath with a demanding kiss, his hands shoving Will's shirt up. “Take off your pants,” he urged against Will's lips, parting long enough to toss away his own shirt and kick off his shoes.

“What, here?” Will gasped, as Hannibal's hands moved to loosen his pants. “Stop, we can't um…. make love here,” he said, unsure of what words were appropriate.

Hannibal chuckled at thus, his voice rich and smokey. “I suggested nothing of the sort my darling,” Hannibal teased, stripping Will of his shirt and stockings, leaving him only in his open pants and looking utterly debauched. With a smile he stood and shed the rest of his clothes before approaching the lake completely nude.

Will caught himself staring and did not care to stop. The hot weather had them both sweating and the sun glinted off Hannibal's muscles, his skin gleaming gold. There were a few silver strands mixed with the gold of his hair and the sun highlighted them. His eyes glittered as he glanced at Will over his shoulder.

“Will you be joining me?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” Will responded with a laugh.

“No?” Hannibal repeated, crouching to dip a hand in the water. “As your doctor I should point out that staying cool on a hot day is vital for your health,” he joked, rising and stalking towards Will.

“I can't swim,” Will protested.

“I'll keep hold of you,” Hannibal promised, looming over Will. He quieted Will's protests with playful kisses as he stripped him of his remaining garment. “Come on.”

“I'm not getting in,” Will argued.

“Yes you are,” with a feral grin Hannibal hoisted Will's slender body over his shoulder and strode towards the water.

“Hannibal stop it!” Will half-squealed through laughter. “We could get caught,” he insisted.

“Keep squealing and we will,” Hannibal told him, carrying Will into the cold water but keeping his arms around him as he promised. He swam them to the centre of the glittering water, keeping hold until Will was safely treading water.

“Not long, I don't want to get caught,” Will responded nervously.

“If anyone is foolish enough to stumble upon us I promise I will take all the blame,” Hannibal soothed. “Although I don't know if anyone would believe me, those bright eyes and plump lips. You are quite the tempting seductress.”

Will's face fell and he drifted a little further away. “I don't like that,” he said quietly.

“Don't like what, dear?” Hannibal asked, pulling him in close. “Talk to me.”

“I only whored myself out when I had to. I never enjoyed it and only pretended to if the guy wanted that, most didn't care. I never had a pimp or lived in a brothel or molly house because I didn't want to be owned, told what I wanted. I don't like to be called a seductress or slut. I know I never did it because I wanted to, no matter how pretty I am,” Will said, facing the ripples in the water.

“Did you want to be with me?” Hannibal asked in concern.

“Yes,” Will answered immediately. “I meant all of it, with you, it felt right,” he promised, with a slow kiss. It soon became heated and Will wrapped his legs around Hannibal’s waist. “The water is far too cold for this.”

“You are right,” Hannibal admitted. “We should dry off and head back to the house. He lifted Will out of the water and carried him out, bridal style, and laid him on the grass beneath the blazing sun. Hannibal flopped down next to him, admiring his body as the water droplets dried on his skin. “If things proceed as planned you will never have to degrade yourself like that again,” he promised, kissing Will on the cheek. “I do not seek to own or control you but I do intend to take care of you. We will be family.”

“I miss having a family,” Will admitted, toying with Hanninal's long fingers. “I never thought I'd have one after losing my Dad.”

“None of us know what the future holds,” Hannibal told him. Will nodded and closed his eyes as Hannibal kissed him.

He did not know what the future might hold but he knew that if Hannibal was fully aware of his past; he would never allow Will into his family.

He would be right not to.

Chapter Text

As the Lecter carriage travelled through the cobbled streets of London, Will discreetly watched the passing from behind the lace curtains. There were a few more people on the streets and many paused to watch the carriage rumble past, Lady LiFe’s latest issue making them even more eager to see inside, the princess, her protector and the newcomer. A couple of men were gathered on the other side of the street whispering to one another when they arrived at the modiste and Mischa was assisted from the carriage by Hannibal who threw them a fierce look.

The bell above the door announced the arrival of the trio and Will had barely taken in the assortment of colours, ribbons and half-finished gowns before they were greeted by a petite dark woman with sparkling eyes. “Welcome,” she said, her French accent was strong but the words clear. “It is good to see you again Count Lecter, Lady Mischa. Are you here for a debutante gown at last?” She asked with a spirited smile.

Misha pouted slightly when Hannibal answered. “Due to unforeseen circumstances my Misha will not be coming out this season but I do believe it is long overdue that her hemlines are dropped.”

“I quite agree,” the woman agreed, her eyes sliding to Will curiously.

“May I introduce Mister Will Graham. Will is Madam Genivieve Delecour, the most talented seamstress in all of London, in fact most of the continent.”

“Count Lecter, you are too kind,” she said with a flirtatious giggle, leading Misha to the dressing area.

“Notice how she does not correct me,” Hannibal said discreetly. Misha and the Geniveve were cooing over soft fabrics and trims, already ignoring the two men. “I have an appointment with Mister Stinson on Saville Row, I trust Misha will be safe in your capable hands,” Hannibal said, more clearly.

“But of course my lord,” she purred. “Do you wish for a change in the usual colour palette?” She asked.

“Now her hems are lowered, I imagine Misha can make her own choices,” Hannibal said, smiling indulgently when Misha turned a bright smile on him. “We shall be back later to settle up the bill.”

His hand was firm on Will’s back as they left the store, walking towards the nearby street. “You will find it is best to leave any shopping trip with a lady before you are dragged into offering opinions, there are entirely too many shades of fabric.”

“Is it different when buying clothes for yourself?” Will asked.

“No but a male tailor is less frustrated when you ask for blue,” Hannibal answered. “You will not be expected to know the difference between cerulean, azure and turquoise, simply point to the one you like best. I had to stay when Misha was younger and always left with a headache. Are there any particular colours or styles that appeal to you?” Hannibal asked.

“No idea,” Will answered. “I know nothing about fashion so I’m putting myself entirely in your hands,” Hannibal laughed softly at that and Will blushed. “More so this Mister Stinson’s hands,” he corrected.

“I warn you now it is not wise to encourage my jealousy,” Hannibal whispered, close to Will’s ear.

Will laughed but Hannial’s mouth stayed set in a firm line. “You are joking right?” Hannibal raised one thin eyebrow but stayed silent.

When they arrived at Mister Stinson’s establishment he was already waiting for them. “Good morning Count Lecter,” he said, his English was smart and crisp. “I was not expecting to see you again this year but I am always delighted to serve you,” he continued, brown eyes warm as they moved over Hannibal’s body. Will was surprised when he felt a flicker of jealousy at the familiarity, he told himself he was being silly, that he had no claim to Hannibal while unconsciously moving closer.

“I am quite content with my wardrobe for now, today I am shopping for a friend. This is Mister Will Graham, his godfather is a distant relative and he will be staying with me in London for a while,” Hannibal said smoothly, his hand resting on Will’s shoulder.

“A pleasure to meet you Mister Graham,” the tailor said, turning his attention to Will, his smile widening. “Casual or formal wear today?” He asked.

“Both,” Hannibal answered for him. “I will need the best you have to offer for Will’s first season in the city,” Hannibal said with a smile. “We have been invited to Lady Danbury’s opening ball and you know her high standards,”

“Quite,” the gentleman agreed. “We must not disappoint your fearsome hostess,” he chuckled. He caught Will’s hand and pulled him deeper into the store. “These clothes are wonderful quality,” he commented, sliding Will’s jacket from his shoulder. “Though rather out of fashion,” he observed Will for a long moment. “I have some rather wonderful new styles that will suit you beautifully.”

He withdrew reams of fabric in various shades as Hannibal settled on a couch, just behind Will, catching his eye in the mirror as Mister Stinson began naming a dozen colours Will had never heard of. He brought forward several samples up to Will’s face, seeing how the shades looked next to his skin and hair. “Hannibal, do you have a preference?” He asked.

“You are the expert,” he replied.

“Luckily for us all I haven’t a single colour that does not suit your lovely ward,” he answered honestly. He reached for a particularly thick fabric. “It may be too early in the year but this cobalt velvet would look exceptional with his eyes,” he held out the reel to Hannibal. “See how structured it is, all the better to highlight a trim waist,” he said, eyes flicking back to Will. “Mister Graham, here feel it,” the soft fabric was pleasing against his hand and the colour striking. “Does it appeal?” He asked with a knowing smile.

Will hesitated, looking to Hannibal for guidance. Hannibal came to join them in front of the mirror and took the fabric from the tailor. He guided Will to face the mirror and held the fabric up to his body. “There is no wrong answer,” he said softly. “I am happy to dress you up but you are not a doll and are entitled to your opinion. Do you like the feel, the colour?”

“Yes,” Will answered. “Do you?” He asked.

“Very much. I did not think your eyes could look any more intense but I was quite wrong,” Hannibal said, fingers dancing over Will’s waist. “Mister Stinson, your taste is as good as ever. A waistcoat and jacket in this fabric would be wonderful.”

“Could you be talked into a pearl lining and perhaps some ruffles?” Mister Stinson asked. “It may sound over the top but it is the current style to stand out, once properly fitted you will be stealing attention for even the most determined debutants.”

“Will does not need embellishments to draw attention,” Hannibal said fondly.

“I’m certain Lady LiFe would agree with you, she is quite intrigued,” Mister Stinson agreed, hand moving furiously over a page, sketching out designs with notes of what fabric would work best before grabbing a measuring tape.

“Lady LiFe is intrigued by anything new and shiny,” Hannibal scoffed. “Though for once I share her interest.”

“I quite agree,” the tailor said, taking Will’s measurement with careful attention.

Will stood still and tall as fabric was draped over him and offered his opinion when asked. There were a few luxurious blacks and deep jewel tones but most were in blue and green. Hannibal seemed determined to give Will enough clothes for the rest of his life but Mister Stinson did not bat an eyelid, acting as though this reckless spending was commonplace, perhaps in the ton it was.

Once the many garments had been settled on, Hannibal moved towards the store front to examine some shoes, specifically riding boots, as Will was helped back into his clothes. He was getting used to having people insist on dressing him, something he had been doing from a very young age. Like Mathew the tailor took great pains smoothing out any lines with long fingers and tracing the patterns with his fingertips. Before adding Will’s neck tie he stepped up behind him and dangled a silver pendant before Will’s eyes, a glittering small key at the end and a dark red glass stone. “Do you like it?” Mister Stinson asked softly, whispering in Will’s ear.

“Yes, it’s lovely,” Will answered, catching the tailor's twinkling eyes in the mirror. His voice was similarly low, automatically matching his behaviour.

“Good,” the man purred, swiftly clasping the chain around his neck and slipping the pendant underneath his clothes. “A gift for a favourite client,” he clarified, raising a finger to his lips as his eyes slid to where Hannibal lingered. “Our little secret,” he grinned broadly.

“Please, Mister Stinson, it is not necessary,” Will instead, taking a step back.

“Nonsnse, a necklace should to be worn only by one deserving of its beauty, I can think of no-one better,” he brushed a long curl back from where it had fallen over Will’s eyes and stayed holding it for a moment. “Call me Barnabus, I insist,” he shot Will a quick wink before they returned to Hannibal.

They left the store with a few new neck scarves and two new pairs of shoes, including a fine pair of riding boots and a broach continuing blue and green stones that Will had admired. They were glass rather than true jewels but Hannibal had bought it for him anyway.

“Should you like some ice cream? I doubt Mischa will be done for another hour now she has free reign on styles and colours,” Hannibal suggested, arm slung casually along Will’s shoulder, bathing him in warmth. “There is a place nearby with a selection of wonderful flavours, I have a craving for dark cherry flavour.”

“Yes please,” Will answered eagerly. Hannibal would not be deterred from spending his money and Will was in no mood to argue even though everywhere they went he drew stares. Women glanced at him before looking down demurely if they caught him noticing before chancing another quick glance and returned to their conversation. Most men recognised Hannibal and nodded at him before examining Will with curiosity but none made a move to demand an introduction. Will was sure he caught the name Lady LiFe several times, it seemed most of society did not share Hannibal’s low opinion of her.

He was quickly distracted away from the curious eyes when their food arrived. His own apricot flavoured ice cream was light and delicious but it was Hannibal that distracted him. The way he ate was most diverting. The iced desserts melted steadily and Will found it maddening. As if Hannbal’s lips closing around the spoon of deep purple was not seductive enough his tongue often darted out to catch a droplet had his mouth hanging open. Hannibal's every movement was heavy with seductive grace and at times Will believed it to be completely accidental, until Hannibal met his eyes and they flashed scarlet for a moment. When he smiled innocently Will returned the gesture and slowed down his own eating, licking his lips after each bite. After a few moments of this silent flirtation Hannibal leaned close with his voice low. “Are you attempting to inspire scandalous behaviour, Will?” He asked with a small smirk.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you are speaking of, Hannibal,” Will replied.

“If only such a thing was true,” Hannibal answered. “It may not be deliberate but you are a terrible influence, though no fault of your own,” he added, mindful of their conversation in the water.

Will took his next bite as slowly as possible, fluttering his eyelashes as Hannibal as he swallowed before dragging his tongue along his lips with a pleased hum. The cool metal settled under his clothes swiftly leaving his mind.

With crystal bowls cleared they slowly made their way back to modiste. It was on the street Will made his first acquaintance. “Hannibal, how lovely it is to see you,” an elegant lady in a deep red dress approached them. Hannibal moved his hand from Will’s back to accept her extended hand and pressed a kiss to her glove. “I expected it to be a little while before I encountered any one of note,” she said with a sharp smile. Her eyes landed on Will then. “Most are still in the country.”

Will took in her appearance, she was a true beauty, porcelain skin and blond hair circling a strong face. Her eyes were piercing and crystal clear and held an air of intelligence but also coldness. “Good afternoon. Will, I would like to introduce you to Lady Bedelia DuMarier, a friend of mine,” his hand returned to Will’s back, encouraging him forward.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” he ventured, imitating Hannibal’s manners and kissing her knuckles.

“I’m sure,” she answered before turning her attention back to Hannibal. “I trust you will be attending Lady Danbury's opening ball?”

“I would not dare to miss it,” Hannibal answered.

“Few would,” she agreed. “Have you reconsidered my offer?” She asked.

“You are very kind to offer your sponsorship but Mischa’s future is well handled and she will not be making her debut this season,” he answered firmly.

She gave a soft laugh. “You cannot keep her trapped forever.”

“I would not dream of it,” Hannibal answered.

“Just until she is too old to find a suitable match,” Bedelia suggested.

“I think there are a few more years before that becomes a concern,” Hannibal said.

“The decision is yours, even though I disagree,” Bedelia said.

“Mischa is my sister,” Hannibal stated with a mild bite to the woods. “I know what is best for her.”

“Of course,” Bedelia soothed. “Until the ball then, do save me a dance. Will,” she bowed her head slightly and swept away.

“There are entirely too many people with an opinion on Mischa’s future,” Hannibal muttered when she was out of earshot.

“Why should it matter to her?” Will asked. “I understand if a man were to ask or even Madame Delecour, I’ve seen debutante dresses and I don’t imagine they are cheap but why would another woman care?”

“There are reasons, although I fear I would seem unkind to bring them up,” he admitted.

“I won’t tell,” Will pushed.

“Curious?” Hannibal asked, eyes lightening.

“You did promise to teach me how society works,” Will responded. He was curious, the idea of being surrounded by crowds was intimidating enough but when they all seemed to share an understanding he did not it became downright frightening.

“Bedelia is a widow, as such she is likely to fade into the background when the spotlight lands on the young and beautiful and, especially, new rather than her,” Hannibal explained.

“I can’t imagine her fading,” Will answered honestly, recalling the woman’s elegance and quiet confidence.

“Sadly the ton has an incredibly short attention span,” Hannibal said. “While Bedelia had a sizable fortune and the means to live without a man, if she was hoping to take a second husband she would need to find her way into the spotlight. Debutants are presented by an already established woman, usually a relative. Mischa is without a mother or aunt to take that role.”

“Wouldn’t you present her?”

“I had hoped you would have noticed I am not a woman,” Hannibal said with a smirk. “No, it is not the done way I am afraid. There are a handful of widows or unfortunate ladies entering a fourth or even fifth season who would happily present Mischa in order to draw a little of her sparkle before the queen.

“So that’s what you think she wants?” Will asked. “Attention?”

“The Queen’s attention should not be underestimated,” Hannibal warned him. “I imagine that is what Bedelia wants though some women have less obvious motives,” he said with a slight sneer.

“Such as?” Will pressed.

“As Mischa’s only living relative I will be focused on her until she is married and there are certain ambitious women who seem to believe that she is the only reason for my refusal to take a bride,” Hannibal said, irritation seeping into his tone. “They hope that I will be more open to advances once she is settled and no longer my responsibility, something that will never come to pass.”

“So who will present her?” Will asked.

“There are various options though I was hoping to enlist the service of Lady Danbury,” Hannibal answered.

“The one everyone is scared of?” Will asked.

“Well remembered Will,” Hannibal praised. “Yes she intimidates most but she has a fondness for Mischa and is a close friend of her majesty, plus she has no need to steal Mischa’s spotlight and has no designs on what is left of my virtue,” he added with a laugh. “There are a few mama’s who may be kind enough to take over the responsibility. Not Lady Featherington, she may mostly be an idiot but she would never encourage comparison between Mischa and her daughters.”

“You said you like Penelope,” Will pointed out.

“I do, but not one of her girls has hopes of comparing when standing next to Mischa,” Hannibal said with pride.

“You do not sound terribly nice right now,” Will chided mildly.

“I value honesty more than false niceties,” Hannibal answered honestly. “I hope you will not judge me too harshly,” he added more softly.

“I like honesty,” Will said.

Hannibal graced him with a warm smile and brushed the back of his finger with his own, Will wanted to grab his hand but while an arm around the shoulder when walking close by was not too much of an oddity, hand hosing was risky. Hannibal was bolder than Will and took his hand in his, squeezing briefly before releasing him just as they reached the modiste.

**********

Mischa had a wonderful shopping trip, appreciative of the freedom she now had to choose her own fabrics and colours under the expert guidance of Madame Delecour.

“Lady Mischa, it is more important than ever that you look your best,” she insisted, measuring the length from the waist to the floor.

“Hardley,” Mischa said. “There will be no balls for me until the end of this season and that is only if I am most lucky.”

“But this is the year to set up a bevy of suitors for next season when you will be available to only the most special of gentlemen,” the older lady advised her. “With your hems dropped men will finally see you as the elegant young lady you are. You may not be able to have your brother take you to balls but there are opera performances, promenades, even the occasional picnic that includes younger guests. You will be seen and admired. Play this correctly and you will secure a record proposal,” she assured her with a smile.

“I am not sure I want a record proposal,” Misha admitted, straightening up to be properly measured. “Though perhaps meeting them early might help me to make the right choice,” she admitted.

“Ah, you are after a love match, oui?” She asked.

“I hope so,” Mischa answered, blushing lightly.

“Luckily you have two lovely men to protect you, ensuring only the best of men will make an advance,” Genevieve answered with a conspiratorial smile. “All you must do is look stunning. Now let us discuss colours, while blue and green so suit you very prettily I do have a couple of other options that will draw attention to your eyes. They do not realise it but every man notices luminous eyes and yours a such a rare and fascinating colour,” she praised.

“What colours would you recommend?” Mischa asked. The seamstress brought out a sample of a shimmering fabric caught between gold and bronze.

“A darker colour than many young ladies would choose but there is a faint rose base that keeps it from being too overwhelming,” she explained. “It will bring out your eyes but is several shades darker than your hair colour so you will avoid becoming a blur. Yes, this is an excellent colour for you and not one many a lady could pull off. No matter how much your brother stands out you will stand out more.”

“Hannibal has always commanded attention, even when we were children,” Mischa said. “But he is my favourite person in the world.”

“Family is everything, mademoselle.” she agreed. “Once Mister Stinson had worked his magic on your new friend the three of you will be a sensation to rival the Bridgetons themselves,” she gushed. “His waiting list is usually longer but Count Lecter is one of his favourites and I suspect by the end he will have taken a shine to Mister Graham too.”

“Will is quite lovely,” Mischa confirmed. “I haven’t met Mister Stinson but I’m sure he will like him too.”

“I have known Mister Stinson for many a year and believe me, this Will is just his type,” she said with a throaty chuckle.

“His type? I am not sure what you mean,” Mischa said. Madame Deleclour looked away, fussing with some ribbons. Her fine features made Mischa look more mature but if anything she was even more naive than most young ladies her age, not even out yet, she had no idea of the secrets buried in the back of even the most finest establishments. “Madame Deleclour?”

“Mister Stinson is very devoted to his job and it is always exciting when he gets a new young fellow to dress up, especially if the young fellow is attractive. Surely you have noticed what a treat your brother’s friend is to the eyes?” Mischa nodded at that and blushed deeper. “He will have the time of his life dressing him up, I assure you,” she answered, placing a maternal hand on Misha’s shoulder. “Let me show you the new styles of shoes that have just arrived from Paris.”

Chapter Text

Will took off the necklace the second he got home and hid it at the back of a drawer. It was beautiful but it was heavy around his neck and he felt uncomfortable wearing it. He'd been given gifts before by clients but none who claimed it was just because he was handsome, always because he had already pleased them. Hannibal lavished him with gifts, new broaches and perfume arrived almost daily and while he was clear they were not payment it was still not for nothing. Will and he would be family in a little over a year. In truth, he only wanted Hannibal’s gifts. 

Part of him did not wish to explain its presence to Hannibal. He had not been mad about the pewter brooch but it had bothered him. Will had no desire to inspire jealousy when he had no interest in anyone but Hannibal.

The brooch had reappeared a couple of days later, clasped to Matthew's lapel. Will had not brought it up but Matthew had noticed his gaze catch on it and bristled in annoyance. “I didn't steal it,” he snapped. “It belongs to me.”

“Oh, I apologise, I shouldn't have been wearing your things,” Will answered, unsure of the confusion.

“Most men don't need to be dolled up like a debutant or a whore during the day time and Sam, I mean, Mister Weston, was grateful to borrow a simple piece,” he said shortly. “I suppose Count Lecter was less concerned with dictating his appearance or his choice of cologne.”

“Matthew, I don't know what you are talking about,” Will stated plainly. Matthew's moods varied wildly and he found it stressful at times. He found he would much rather start the day with a happy Matthew. Matthew took a deep breath and softened his harsh tone.

“Count Lecter had his valet return the brooch to me and made it clear that you were only to be dressed in the jewellery and clothes chosen for you,” he said. His voice still had a trace of annoyance but his smile was gentle. “Does it not make you uncomfortable?” He asked.

“Does what make me feel uncomfortable?” Will asked.

“All this,” Matthew said, gesturing to vanity holding Will's perfumes and jewellery. “Being his doll.”

“I’m not his doll,” Will objected.

“Which of these was not chosen by him, rather than by yourself?” Matthew challenged.

Will picked up the new brooch bought on their shopping trip, showing it to Matthew and putting it back in place before snatching up a handful of new scarves. “We went shopping yesterday, I liked these ones,” he said, mouth set in a firm line.

“Was that all he brought? Or are there trunks of fine clothes in his favourite colours arriving any day now?” Matthew asked. A pointless question as he would have already been informed of any expected deliveries. He sighed and rubbed his face, trying to smooth away the annoyance contouring his features. “He has a reputation Will, speculations mostly but you should be careful of depending on him too much. Why is he doing all this for you? What will you need to do to keep his attention?” He asked in concern, taking a step closer and reaching for Will’s hand. “The season is starting soon and a scandal can still tarnish a man or ruin a lady.”

Will snatched his hand away and put a few steps distance between himself and Matthew. “Keep your speculations and baseless gossip to yourself,” he snapped. “The only person who has tried to dress me up is you and I would rather wear his gifts than yours. There is no scandal to tarnish me and Mischa’s reputation will remain safe, I can promise you that Mister Brown.”

“Very well, Mister Graham,” he responded coldly. Will stood stiffly as he was dressed, Matthew moving much faster than usual. Will checked his reflection in the mirror when he was done and nodded. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Mister Graham,” Matthew asked, almost sneering at the title.

“I’m sorry for being too familiar,” Will said quietly. 

“If you no longer want my advice I’m sure the master would happily have me gone by dusk,” he answered curtly.

“Where would you go?”

“It’s no concern of yours,” Matthew responded. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Mister Graham?”

“No, thank you,” Will eventually said. With a jerk of his head Matthew left the room.

Will was long past caring about any rumours about Hannibal’s reputation. His own past was not suitable to be discussed in polite company and there were parts he would rather no-one even found out about, parts he wished he could forget. He was happier in this fine house than he had ever been and he did not want to give up that comfort and safety and he would not give up Hannibal, not yet. He sat at the baby grand, playing a simple tune to keep his hands busy, knowing that if he did not do something he would ruin his hair.

He could have Matthew removed. He was angry with his comments but Will had been the one to initiate a friendship and welcomed his advice on clothes and how this new world worked. If he was dismissed he may not be able to return to a house where he was not needed, where would he go? A bigger house or a molly house? Will had a roster of sins and would rather not add to it. For now their boundaries had been redefined and he could allow Matthew another chance, though part of him wished the almost silent Francis had been present to hear their row, he would have immediately reported it to Hannibal and taken the choice out of his hands.  

Matthew and he could not be friends, especially when he had tried to push a wedge between him and Hannnibal over a brooch. Matthew’s behaviour, felt like jealousy and he knew that if others saw him as a country boy swept away into a world where he didn’t belong by a generous benefactor they would react the same. No-one but Hannibal thought Will was good enough. Thankfully Hannibal’s was the only opinion that mattered and Mischa had already accepted him with open arms.

A knock at his door and he was startled out of his thoughts. He cracked open the door and his body sagged with relief when he saw Hannibal on the other side. “Good morning,” he said with a bright grin. 

“I hope you are not planning on hiding in here all day,” Hannibal commented. “Are you coming to breakfast?”

Will glanced at the clock and realised he had been musing far too long. “Yes, of course, time just got away from me, sorry,” he said with a bashful smile.

“Nothing to apologise for,” Hannibal said, taking Will’s arm as he stepped into the hallway. “You shall need your strength today after all.”

“Right, the dance masters visit,” Will recalled. 

“Still nervous?” Hannibal asked.

“Actually no,” Will said honestly.

“What has changed?” Hannibal asked in surprise. Will glanced along the hallway to ensure there were no silent staff present and stole a swift kiss which Hannibal instantly deepened. A familiar feeling of weightlessness built within Will and he felt time begin to slip away. Before he could completely lose himself in Hannibal he stepped back, wrestling himself under control. “I assume something has changed?”

“Since I have such a gorgeous wardrobe being sewed up as we speak it seems more important that I learn to show it off properly,” Will answered. “The season will be starting soon. As everyone is keen to remind me there will be eyes on me. I want to make sure that I can act the part as well as look the part.”

“You need not care what others think,” Hannibal assured him. “Not one of them matters.”

“My behaviour reflects on you, doesn’t it?” Will asked.

“I suppose so,” Hannibal admitted.

“That means it also reflects on Mischa and we both know you care about that more than anything,” Will reminded him. Hannibal nodded at that.

“You know you may enjoy dancing,” Hannibal suggested. He bent his head speaking close to Will’s ear. “I am more than willing to help you practise as often as you need.”

“Will you let me lead?” Will asked, a smirk tugging at his mouth.

“Occasionally. Fair is fair,” Hannibal agreed with a smile, letting his lips brush against the shell of Will’s ear and straightening before they entered the dining area. Hannibal had eaten before going in search of Will but joined him at the table, sipping tea and watching him eat. “That brooch looks much better on you than I expected. I like you in colour.”

“Thanks. I like coloured jewels too,” Will said with a smile.

“If you want some more simple brooches I will provide them,” Hannibal said. “I hope you do not think you must only wear what I approve of.”

“I don’t really have anything you don’t though do I?” Will answered.

“I despise yellow,” Hannibal stated. Will knew there were a few brooches with light yellow stones and one the scarfs he purchased was a bright butter yellow, another a mix of yellow and green.

“I have yellow accessories,” Will said with a soft smile. “I think I’ll be choosing my own adornments in future.”

“Are you feeling more confident in your choices?” Hannibal asked, pleased.

“You’ll tell me if anything clashes horribly won’t you?” Will asked with a sweet smile.

“Of course,” Hannibal asked.

“I’m guessing it would be best to look perfect for the fearsome Lady Danbury,” Will said with a laugh.

A knock came to the door and they both rose from the table. “I will welcome your instructor, Mischa is most likely in the library,” Will nodded and went to go look for her but was distracted by music flowing from one of the rooms he passed. 

He looked into the room to find Misha sitting in front of the window, practising on a golden harp. Her pretty face was screwed up with concentration, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she struggled to reach the higher notes. Sunlight streamed through the large window, tangling in her hair and making it shine. Will stayed silent for a moment, appreciating her beauty. She stumbled over a couple of notes and dropped her hands, tilting her head back, it was then she spotted Will, surprised by his appearance. “Good morning,” she greeted politely. 

“Good morning, you play the harp,” he said, making his way into the room.

“Not well,” she said with a light blush. “It belonged to our aunt. I used to love listening to her play.”

“Did she teach you?” He asked.

“She started to but…” she shook her head at the painful memory. “It does make my fingers ache after a while,” she said, twisting her fingers together.

Will crouched before her and took her smaller hands in his gently squeezing her fingers, his thumb making circles in her palm. It had been an unconscious reaction but he noticed her hands were warm, wonderful soft and felt so small and delicate in his grip. She smiled at him and he found himself smiling back, surprised when their eyes met and he did not feel the need to look away instantly. “My arms are still a little too short to play properly,” she explained. “Some notes are harder to reach.”

“You can teach me the notes you can’t reach and we can play together,” Will suggested, his smile growing.

“That sounds fun,” she agreed with a smile. “I don’t really remember my parents and Uncle Roberto was kind but didn’t really know what to do with a child but his Lady Murasaki was wonderful, especially when the news came that they hadn’t survived. If it wasn’t for her we wouldn’t be here now.” 

“How do you mean?” Will asked.

“Hannibal felt he should return home after it happened,” she said. “I didn’t want to but I would’ve gone if he had. It was Lady Murasaki that convinced him that he didn’t have to mourn, handle an estate and take care of a toddler all at the same time.”

“It would be a lot for anyone,” Will agreed.

“That’s Hannibal, always so mature and responsible,” she said fondly. 

“Not when he was teaching you to throw food and scar pianos,” Will joked.

“He showed you that?” She asked. “It was not a shining moment for either of us but he did make sure to hold my hand steady so I didn’t cut myself. Whatever his flaws he is the best brother.”

“It’s obvious he loves you very much,” Will said.

“I love him too. I only hope my future husband understands how important that is,” she said. “I know some will not accept my wishes in that regard.”

“What are your wishes?” He asked.

She opened her mouth to respond but Hannibal spoke first. “Sorry to interrupt but are either of you planning on attending your dance class?” He asked. Will released Mischa’s hands, hands he had long since stopped massaging and was now simply holding, and clumsily stood up while she rose gracefully beside him.

“Got distracted,” Will mumbled, feeling almost like he had been caught doing something wrong.

“Mister Cooper is not known for his patience, hurry along,” he suggested. Mischa looped her arm around Will’s and led him away, Hannibal’s eyes fixed on the pair. They did make a handsome couple and would have beautiful children. When it was time he could at least be comforted by the fact he had relinquished Will for a good reason and could enjoy spoiling his nieces and nephews.

He moved into the room once they left his field of vision, approaching the harp. It was a fine instrument, he plucked a string, the sound as sweet and pure as it had been the first time he heard it. The day he had arrived in England after bidding his parents farewell for what would turn out to be the last time.

His fingers ran along the curved metal, warmed by the sun. At the top was an ornately carved ‘M’, it stirred a memory that made him smile. He felt himself sink into memories of dark eyes, warm arms and the scent of lilies; of the woman who took care of him when he needed that and taught him to be strong.

Lady Murasaki, the thought of her always brought a smile to his face and a twinge in his heart. The familiar sting of loss and the warmth of tender care.

He moved into the library, planning to read rather than stare at Will. He was just beginning to become lost in a recent medical text when he heard a rough voice floating through the house. He put the book to one side and went in search of the disruption.

**********

Mister Cooper was not known for his patience as he appeared to not have any. He was a tall, whip thin man with thick grey hair, his face held lines but he moved as easily as a young man, his posture perfect. He was one of the most sought after dance masters in London and was often hired to perfect the skills of a young lady who was already familiar with most dances. Mischa knew most of the steps but Will was a complete beginner and Mister Cooper quickly became frustrated. The musician that accompanied him was a plump and smiling younger man who had tried to slow down the tune for Will and gotten a scolding for his trouble.

“Mister Graham, what is so very fascinating about your shoes?” He snapped. “It must be something very special if you would rather stare at them than your partner.”

“I’m trying not to fall over them,” Will said, blood rushing to his cheeks. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s walking!” He shouted. “These are the opening steps, all you need to do is put one foot in front of the other, is that too difficult for you?” He asked. “Do you have your valet help you navigate stairs, or perhaps blind fold and lead you past the ‘complicated’ parts like a nervous filly?” He sneered.

“I’m s-sorry,” he mumbled. “I’ll try harder.”

“Oh good, Mister Graham is ready to try now, how wonderful,” he said with an eye roll. 

“I am concerned that it is your skills that are in need of questioning rather than Mister Graham’s commitment to learning,” Hannibal said from the doorway. His voice was soft but his presence sent a wave of comfort over Will. 

“Hannibal, come and help us,” Misha said, grabbing Hannibal’s hand. “He’s going too fast for Will,” she added discreetly. 

“I could hear your berating from the other side of the house,” Hannibal commented. “What is the problem Will?” He asked gently.

“I don’t know. I feel like I’m gonna topple over or step on her feet and I don’t know any of the steps,” he babbled.

“Well how could you?” Mischa asked. “My brother did inform you that Mister Graham has never had a class before did he not?” She asked the dancing master who was much less confident now.

“Yes, my Lady, but most gentlemen of his age at least have a basic knowledge of popular dances,” he argued.

“Are you capable of teaching or only perfecting already capable dancers?” Hannibal asked. “Please answer honestly as I will take over if necessary.”

“I can teach him, my Lord, I will go slower,” he insisted, trying to avoid the embarrassment of being dismissed.

“Terrific,” Hannibal with a reptilian smile. He took a seat in the room and nodded for the class to continue.

Things moved along better after that. Mister Cooper was forced to go slow and every time his voice grew harsh or his comments boarded on insulting Hannibal cleared his throat. That was all it took and everytime he did Will felt himself grow more confident and less like an imposter. He was under Hannibal’s protection and he felt worthy under his gaze. “He will need to learn group dances,” Hannibal said, once he and Mischa were moving smoothly together.

“That will be difficult without a group,” Mister Cooper responded, keeping his voice emotionless to hide his annoyance.

Hannibal nodded in agreement and stood. “I shall fetch reinforcements,” he returned a moment later with Abigail and Mrs Hobbs along with the young curly haired footman who had served dinner. “Will three couples suffice?”

“It’s possible,” the dance master said, though he looked reluctant. The steps were not too different from the couple's dances and with Hannibal mirroring the steps by his side he was able to pick them up with more ease. The young footman, Louis, was also struggling but Abigail followed as easily as Mischa.

Will preferred the upbeat tune that accompanied the group dance and the distance it offered meant he was less concerned about stepping on someone’s feet. By the time the class had ended Will was genuinely enjoying himself. As soon as Mister Cooper and his assistant had left, Mischa and Abigail rushed to her room hand in hand, heads bent close together and giggling. Louis watched them leave with red cheeks and wide eyes before Mrs Hobbs rolled her eyes and pulled him away, back to his chores, leaving Hannibal and Will alone.

“You moved beautifully once you were relaxed,” Hannibal praised. “It seemed a shame to interrupt you and Misha earlier,” he said, his tone nonchalant but his eyes intense as always.

“Her fingers were sore,” Will explained.

“I am glad you are getting along,” Hannibal said. “I have never been inclined to learn to play the harp but Mischa is quite determined.”

“She said it belonged to your aunt,” Will said, curious to know about Hannibal’s family.

“Yes,” he said, gaze softening. “Lady Murasaki. She was a good woman, considerably younger than my uncle but when he took us in she took care of us. She was warm, loving, intelligent and very beautiful. We both loved her and I suppose that is how Mischa chooses to remember her,” he drew himself from the memories to turn to Will with a gentle smile. “I miss her often.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not at all, it is nice to talk about her,” Hannibal said.

“How do you remember her? Mischa plays the harp, do you do something?” He asked.

“I draw,” Hannibal answered, “and paint. She had an interest in art but not talent, thus she nurtured mine.”

“Can I see some of your pictures?” Will asked.

“If you would like to,” Hannibal said. “Come to my room tonight, after Matthew has left you alone.”

“Do they need to be viewed late at night?” Will quipped, though he nodded his agreement.

“No, but you have worked so very hard tonight I must insist that you receive proper aftercare so as to not be too stiff tomorrow. As a doctor, I advise a full body rub down,” Hannibal purred, a hand stroking along the length of Will’s thigh. “Doctors orders.”

“I would never disobey my good doctor’s orders,” Will said. He learned forward, his voice pitched low, until they were only an inch away from kissing. Will’s pants grew tight and his want began to rise, body warm and eager to be touched. Hannibal raised his fingers, tenderly stroking along Will’s plump lower lips and smiling at his sweet purr of desire and the whine when he pulled away.

“Goog boy,” Hannibal said, reluctantly moving to his feet. “Lunch will be ready in an hour.”

Hannibal left the room and Will slumped back on the low sofa, beaming brightly. He only hoped he could get his raging lust under control until nightfall.

Chapter Text

Will was distracted for most of the day. His moment with Mischa and his conversation with Hannibal had him somewhat confused, but not unhappy.

He felt for them both.

He was aware that he had developed feelings for Hannibal, feelings that were deeper than friendship. He was not in love with him, he knew early on that was not an option for them but it was also more than attraction. It had been a long time since Will had been with someone he felt genuine affection for and it made him happy. 

Mischa was as easy to love as people said and he could be happy as her husband, perhaps he could make her happy in return, for a time. He was not good enough for her, even with all the manners and trappings of a gentleman there were things in his past that he could never share, not with her or Hannibal. But he was already in too deep now and he wanted this family, people who cared about him and who he cared for in return. 

He was vibrating by the time Matthew went to bed. He had worn the butter yellow scarf for dinner, a petty attempt to show Matthew that Hannibal was not the one dictating his clothes. It was a useful attempt as Matthew most likely did not know Hannibal’s colour preferences and Will couldn’t tell him as it seemed they were not speaking right now. It was disappointing as he hoped Matthew might be a friend. As it turned out there was a reason gentlemen and valets were not friends in the traditional sense. 

He listened for Francis’s steady steps as he did the evening checks and then dipped into Hannibal’s room. Hannibal had already undressed and was bare chested, reading in front of the fire. “Good evening Will,” he greeted him with a fond smile and put his book to one side. Will smiled in response and joined Hannibal on the low couch, thighs pressed together. Hannibal wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a lazy long kiss, free hand spreading apart the lapels of his robe and caressing his torso with his fingertips.

Hannibal deepened the kiss and pushed himself closer, his heavy weight tilting Will backwards. Will grinned against his lips and braced himself on the low arm, pushing Hannibal backwards. “You promised me art,” he reminded him. 

“I did,” Hannibal admitted, reluctantly rising to his feet and retrieving a pile of papers from his desk. “I enjoy painting but often only have time for sketching,” he explained, showing Will his pencil drawings. 

“They’re all so different,” he observed.

“I know many professional artists who specialise but being an amateur means I am granted more freedom to experiment,” Hannibal explained. “I am constantly learning.”

Will paused and grinned at a picture of a fluffy dog with a large bow around its neck. “Is this imagined? He asked.

“That is Meringue,” Hannibal said, trying hard to hold back a scoff.

“Meringue?” Will asked.

“A ridiculous name for a horrible animal,” Hannibal said. “There were a great many sighs of relief were heard when Lady Fenwick grew tired of having her hems ripped by the dog.”

“Aww come on, she’s only a puppy,” Will said.

“He.”

“She named a male dog Meringue?” Will asked.

“She did,” Hannibal confirmed, laughing a minute later. “I sometimes think there should be better control on who can have an animal. I do see the appeal of a lapdog but clearly she could not be bothered to train it or accept that Meringue hated those silly bows.”

“He’s very beautiful,” Will said.

“Agreed, do you like dogs?” He asked.

“Even more than horses,” Will answered with a grin. “Do you?”

“It depends on the beast,” Hannibal answered. “Mischa does so once you are in your own marital home you can have as many as you desire, but please train them properly.”

“I will,” Will answered, smiling brightly. “And I promise I’ll choose a better name than Meringue.”

“Thank you,” Hannibal said.

“Do you usually draw from something?” Will asked.

“Obviously not,” Hannibal said as Will came across a picture of two naked men, wrapped in a passionate embrace. “Patroclus and Achilles, I have a fondness for the classical myths,” he shifted through the papers and drew out a large picture of an intimidating centaur. “Chiron, he trained Achilles in battle and Patroclus in medicine.”

“Wow they’re incredible,” he said, gazing at each picture. 

“I do sketch from imagination but when painting I prefer to have a subject,” Hannibal said.

“Naked models?” Will asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Fruit bowls too,” Hannibal answered with a slight smirk. “Would you consider sitting for me?”

“No,” Will said with a blush.

“Please?” Hannibal said sweetly. “I’d like to paint you. Will you consider it?”

“I’ll consider it, but I’m not saying yes,” Will answered.

“Not yet,” Hannibal said, his smile widening. “Beauty like yours deserves to be recorded and I would be honoured to be the artist. There is danger of me becoming most jealous of any artist who was able to observe you so intimately,” he added, mostly joking but not entirely. He returned to stroking over Will’s stomach, effectively distracting him from his examination of his art. “Are you sore from your exercises yet?” He asked, mouth close to Will’s ear.

“Not very,” Will responded, turning to face Hannibal, noses brushing together. 

“Exercise is most important,” Hannibal murmured, trailing his fingers up Will’s torso and teasing a nipple. 

Will caught Hannibal’s hand in his and moved to straddle Hannibal, kissing him deeply. “You’re a terrible tease,” he purred. Hannibal grinned and groped Will’s ass while gently kissing along his shoulders, eventually nudging the soft robe away from his body.

“I believe you may be trying to distract me from thoughts of painting you,” Hannibal accused him.

“Is it working?” Will asked, pressing his torso against Hannibal’s.

“Temporarily,” Hannibal admitted.

Will stood up, grinning at the soft whine that came from Hannibal when he stepped out of his arms. He stripped off his sleep clothes and folded them nearly before walking over to the bed and laying down. He raised an eyebrow at Hannibal. “So, exercise?” He prompted.

Hannibal came over to join Will, leaning over him for a kiss before dragging his lips down Will’s body and taking one ankle in each hand. He carefully spread Will’s leg’s apart, stretching out his muscles and smiling. “You are quite flexible, my dear,” he observed. Will reclined on the bed smiling softly as Hannibal explored his stretched out muscles with his lips.

“Ah! Hannibal, if you make me pull a muscle I will be very cross,” he warned, one of his legs quivered awkwardly when it was pushed just a little too far. Hannibal pressed a soft kiss to his calf, loosening his grip until Will was in a more comfortable position. 

“I shall endeavour to be more careful with you, my delicate boy,” he said fondly, crossing his legs and pulling Will close to straddle him. “Beautiful,” he praised, smoothing a hand through Will’s curls. Hannibal tightened his grip on Will’s hair and held his head firm before leaning in but not actually kissing him. He pressed his lips to his cheekbones and lightly nipped at his clean shaven jaw, dragging his pink tongue over Will’s parted lips. He nuzzled his cheek against Will’s but refused to let him draw him into a kiss.

Will shook his head free and pressed his hands to Hannibal’s chest, pushing him flat on his back. “Stop teasing,” he growled, biting Hannibal’s lower lip playfully.

“Let me paint you,” Hannibal responded. 

“Not if you keep this up,” Will warned. Hannibal grinned and wrapped his limbs around Will, rolling over their bodies so Will was trapped beneath him. Will tried to squirm free but Hannibal manhandled him so his head was hanging off the bed. He resumed his vicious teasing, leaving soft kisses over Will’s face but never letting him taste his lips, still wearing a soft maddening smirk. “You cannot tease me into anything,” he said. 

Hannibal chuckled and lightly sucked on Will’s earlobe. “You are not foolish enough to challenge me are you, darling?” He purred against his ear, fingers moving to pinch a nipple. 

“You underestimate me, darling,” Will mocked in return. Hannibal allowed him to wiggle his way back onto the bed as his face was becoming flushed and filled with blood. He stretched out his body fully, acutely aware of Hannibal's burning eyes trailing over him. He reached for the waistband of Hannibal pants but was stopped and shoved onto his back again. He smirked and parted his legs, exposing his throat further and grabbing the headboard above him.

Hannibal dragged his fingers up Will’s arms, settling his fingers over Hannibal’s and squeezing softly. “How about a bet?” He suggested.

“I am listening,” Will said, hitching up a leg to wrap around Hannibal’s waist.

“Let go of the headboard and you lose, thus you must sit for me,” he said.

“What if I win?” Will asked.

“What do you want?” Hannibal asked.

“I want to spend the night,” Will answered, voice and eyes as sweet as honey.

“Deal,” Hannibal said instantly, sucking on Will’s pulse point and making him moan. 

“I should have asked for more,” Will answered, letting his head fall to one side.

“Foolish boy,” Hannibal chided, dragging his fingers up Will’s inner thigh and inhaling the scent of his hair.

“How long?” Will asked, keeping Hannibal’s waist close and pressing his erection to Hannibal’s, thin cloth separating them.

“All night.”

“Not fair,” Will sang. 

“I am seriously considering gagging you,” Hannibal warned. 

“You wouldn’t,” Will said nonchalantly. “You like hearing me,” he pointed out.

“That is true,” Hannibal admitted, his movements stopping when Will pressed a foot to his sternum.

“Time limit or I’m not playing,” he responded, loosening his grip on the wooden headboard.

“Stay,” Hannibal almost snarled, sealing his hands over Will’s. He reluctantly slid down Will’s body and retrieved a glass timer filled with white sand from his desk. “One hour?” He suggested. Will nodded in agreement.

“Kiss first?” He asked, eyes wide and lips parted prettily. “Please?”

Hannibal tugged Will into an embrace and covered Will’s lips with his, plundering his sweet mouth with his tongue. There was a faint taste of strawberries lingering on Will’s tongue from the dessert Hannibal had served and he chased the taste in eagerness, the heat of his shaft pressed against Will’s slender body. “Satisfied?” He asked.

“I want more,” Will whined with an adorable pout.

“You can give in now,” Hannibal suggested, eyes alight, fingers tracing circles on Will’s wrists.

“Never,” he said fiercely.

“Adorable,” Hannibal said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to Will’s lips before flipping the timer and letting the sand start to smoothly flow. 

He broke free of Will’s leg and stood at the foot of the bed, stripping off his thin sleep pants and standing naked before Will’s lazily stroking his length. He resumed his merciless teasing, kissing and nipping at every inch of Will’s body, leaving red suck marks and making him squirm. He carefully made a mental note of the parts that made him cry out in pleasure, the parts he expected to be sexual and others, a birthmark on his waist that had Will gasping from even the slightest touch. Will flexed his arms, in an effort to not give in, the sand seemed to be flowing too slowly and he wanted to grab Hannibal, and tug him into another toe-curling kiss. Hannibal’s body was tense as he moved over Will, barely able to keep himself from devouring him completely. His delicious teasing was torturous for them both but he was not willing to give up.

Truthfully he would let Will stay in his bed till noon if he asked him so sweetly.

Will’s nipples were pert and sensitive before Hannibal’s even touched them and when he dragged his teeth over the hardened nubs Will’s back arched off the bed in want. His body was flushed red with want and gleaming with sweat, his sweet moans filled the air but his fingers stayed tight, desperately clinging to an anchor. Hannibal gaze flicked to the timer, a couple of moments worth of sand left, slipping downwards, gaining speed.

He grinned at Will, proud and triumphant before moving his fingers to his sensitive sides. Baring his teeth he drove his fingers into the flesh, rapidly wiggling them over Will’s skin in a merciless tickle. Will yelped and laughed in surprise, immediately releasing the bed to grab Hannibal’s torturous hands. Hannibal relented and caught Will’s hands in, pinning them either side of his head, “I win,” he taunted.  

“You cheated,” Will whined.

“I did not,” Hannibal argued. “You never asked for clarification of the rules.”

“Damn your rules,” Will huffed with a pout.

“Rules are important. If you don’t know them, how can you bend them?” Hannibal asked, letting go of Will’s hands to wrap him in an embrace, kissing him softly. “You have no idea how hard it was to go almost an hour without you touching me,” he purred.

“You could have stopped playing,” Will murmured against his lips.

“I wanted to paint you.”

“Wanted?” Will asked hopefully.

“I still intend to,” Hannibal promised him. “But right now I want something else.

“Perhaps I am not inclined to oblige,” Will replied, sliding off the bed only to be yanked back onto the soft sheets by Hannibal.

“Don’t tease,” he said firmly. “I don’t like empty threats.”

Will turned his head for another kiss. “Who says they’re empty?”

Hannibal slowly withdrew his arms, releasing the solid grip on Will waist and leaning back, looking at him with an expectant smile. Will hesitated from half a half a heartbeat before returning to Hannibal lap with a shared laugh. “Willful child,” Hannibal said, nipping at Will’s lower lip. “You do make me happy.”

“I do?”

“Yes Will,” Will curved towards, laying his head on Hannibal’s shoulder and cuddling him close.

“Good,” he sighed happily. “I really want to ride you tonight,” he whispered, dragging his tongue over Hannibal’s ear.

Hannibal moaned in response and dragged Will’s body flush against his, hard weeping dicks sandwiched betweened their stomachs and pelvises grinding together. Hannibal pulled him into another filthy kiss as his hand scrambled around the bedside drawer. He located a larger glass bottle of sweet smelling oil and guided Will to spread his knees far apart, hovering above what he wanted most.

Will squirmed impatiently as Hannibal coated his fingers, warming the slippery liquid with his body heat. He stopped when he saw the way Hannibal was looking at his face, expression unreadable. “Hannibal?”

“You look different,” Hannibal said softly, smiling softly. “No less beautiful,” he assured Will.

“Different how?” Will asked.

“When I first saw you you were the very picture of innocence, on the surface, though one look at your eyes and the firm set of your jaw showed a world of strength, a core of thick iron, and an invisible set of armour between you and the world,” he kissed Will as he slid a finger into his ass, oil easy his way. “Gods you are so tight,” he moaned. “When you laugh and tease and play, that hardness melts away, it is lovely,” he praised.

Will’s smile was small and he buried his face in Hannibal’s neck. “You got under my skin before we even left the club,” Will admitted, rocking his ass back onto Hannibal’s finger.

“I intend to stay there for as long as I can,” Hannibal said sweetly, wrapping his free arm around Will and carefully sliding in a second finger, delving deeper into Will’s tight hot passage. Will’s eyes fluttered closed at the spark of pleasure that rushed through him when Hannibal’s finger struck his prostate. A strangled moan fell from his lips as his mind supplied the image of a snake of blue and green jewels wrapped around his heart.

Temporary. Will forced the cruel voice away, focusing on Hannibal filling him completely. 

Will gripped Hannibal’s shoulders and began to rock his ass back on the digits, exploring his insides and working him open. “I’m ready Hannibal,” he pleaded, letting his muscles go lax. “You’ve teased me enough,” he added softly.

Hannibal pressed a kiss to his temple as he slid fingers free with a delightful twist. Cheeks pressed together he guided his swollen head to Will’s dampened entrance, humming in pleasure as Will sunk down onto his length, engulfing him in warmth. Will gripped the muscles of Hannibal’s back as he began to bounce on his hard member, needing to feel him as close as possible, surrounding him and inside him. His tongue darted out to taste the sweat gathering at the crook of his neck, longing to draw more of Hannibal’s essence inside himself.

Hannibal’s hand travelled down Will’s arms, firmly gripping his wrist and bringing the hand to his mouth. He held Will’s gaze as his mouth and tongue travelled over his knuckles before he pressed a sweet kiss to his inner wrist and the centre of his palm. He drew two fingers between his flushed red lips, hollowing out his cheeks and sucking with devotion. Will felt tingles travel from his fingers through his body, the imagine of Hannibal’s blazing red eyes and his soft lips drawing him in was mesmerising and at the moment he could think of nothing more erotic. Hannibal’s dick inside him and Will’s fingers inside him. 

He withdrew his fingers with an obscene pop, Hannibal fighting to keep them in place. Will moved his hand down Hannibal’s spine, pausing with his wet fingers brushing the curve of Hannibal’s ass. He kissed the corner of Hannibal’s parted lips and his fingers settled in the space between his cheeks. Hannibal shifted so he was kneeling, the adjusted position changed the angle of his dick and Will felt the pleasure flooding through him double. He boldly moved his fingers down to Hannibal’s hole and spread the saliva around the puckered skin surrounding his opening. He pressed the pad of his pointer finger to the tight hole and felt it tighten as Hannibal grunted in discomfort.

He drew his hand away and pressed soft kisses over Hannibal’s lips and cheeks as his hand searched for the discarded oil. Hannibal’s hands moved over his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles and teasing his nipples, making him tremble with stimulation. With shaky hands Will managed to uncork the bottle and add lube to his fingers, the liquid thicker than he had expected and wonderfully slippery. He returned his finger to the cleft of Hannibal’s ass, moving with more confidence when Hannibal leaned forward to give him more space to move. Will was careful and gentle with his movements, spreading the liquid around Hannibal’s hole and teasing his entrance without entering fully. When he pressed his finger to the hole he could feel it relax for him and he was able to slide in till the first knuckle with hardly any resistance. The heat was intense, more than he expected and the strong muscles clenched his finger tightly. 

Hannibal’a hands moved to grasp Will’s ass, encouraging him to move faster and gasping roughly against his cheek. Will followed his guidance, raising himself up until only the head was still inside his body before smoothly sliding down the length, strong legs letting him easily keep this up at a rapid pace, even when bone deep tremors of pleasure began to race below his skin. His index finger moved deeper into Hannibal’s ass, muscles pulsing around him. He clenched his ass in response, thrilled by Hannibal’s low growl of pleasure. 

Will brought his legs to wrap around Hannibal and he was enveloped in the older man’s arms, bodies entwining tightly and moving together easily, heavy breaths mixing in the air. The scent of the fruity lubricant and salt of their sweat filled the air around them, heavy and dizzying. Will could feel his climax approaching and moaned his pleasure into Hannibal’s mouth, fucking his finger in and out of him at increasing speed. He felt Hannibal’s body jerk when he hit the sweet spot inside and with a rough thrust Hannibal came in his ass, his teeth grazing Will’s neck nudged him over the edge.

They collapsed in a knot on the sheets below, neither moving for several long blissful moments. Hannibal ran a hand though Will’s curls, turning his head for a lingering kiss. “You are an angel,” he murmured, eyes full of stars. Will gave a graceless snort of laughter and pressed his head to Hannibal’s chest, listening to his thumping heart as it gradually slowed to normal. He was exhausted and desperately did not want to move. With an unhappy sound he tried to sit up. “Where are you going?” Hannibal asked in annoyance, eyes only half open as he grasped Will’s fingers.

“If I don’t move now I’m gonna fall asleep,” Will said, letting himself be tugged back to Hannibal’s warm solid form.

“Sleep is good,” Hannibal mumbled. He peered at the wash cloth and basin across the room, cursing it for being out of arm's reach. “Are you going to cry again if I move?”

“No,” Will said, blushing furiously. “I’m good.”

Hannibal rolled on top of his light body, pressing him into the mattress with a devoted kiss. “Stay,” he said quietly before stumbling to the basin and wetting a cloth. He knelt by Will lifting his legs to wipe the dripping semen from his thighs and ass and wiping at the spend on his stomach. Will was fighting to keep his eyes open as Hannibal cleaned his own torso and tossed the cloth to one side. Hannibal blew out the last candles and pulled Will to lay close to him. “We have a few hours. You still want to stay the night, yes?”

“You said you didn’t cheat,” Will argued faintly.

“I won fair and square and I will paint you, nude and lovely in the firelight, but that does not mean you cannot have your prize,” he said gently.

“I think that’s how the rules work.”

“I hate rules,” Hannibal answered, voice dark and hinging on playfulness. “Go to sleep.”

“You’ll wake me?” Will asked, his words slurring as sleep claimed him.

“Eventually,” Hannibal soothed. “I look forward to waking up next to you as often as possible, for as long as I am able.”

Temporary. Hannibal ignored the whisper and fell asleep with a smile on his lips and a hand over Will’s heart.

Chapter Text

Francis was the first one awake every day. He took some time to exercise his body, check the house was in order and, in winter, woke the maids to set up the fires. He had been doing so since he was a young man and he woke up with the sun automatically.

The summers were better, he did not have to wake before dawn and the kitchen was pleasantly sunny as he ate a light breakfast before waking the Count. Hannibal was always up early and once he was dressed and settled in the drawing room with a cup of tea, the rest of the staff were awakened.

He silently entered Hannibal's room and opened the curtains. When he turned back to the bed he found that Hannibal's eyes were open and he was not alone. He kept his face blank and nodded once when Hannibal raised a finger to his lips, indicating the sleeping man beside him. He beckoned Francis closer so they could speak quietly. Will did not even stir, his messy curls spilling over Hannibal’s shoulder.

“Please send Matthew on some sort of errand, preferably one that will take most of the morning. I should like to take breakfast in bed, bring up a try for two please,” he said, his voice was almost silent but he was clearly in a wonderful mood.

“Immediately?” Francis asked.

Hannibal’s eyes travelled to the clock and he looked down at Will with a soft smile. “No, let him sleep another couple of hours, thank you Francis. Close the curtains please,” Hannibal rolled over and tugged the covers up higher, wrapping his arms around Will’s slender form and humming happily.

“Yes my Lord,” Francis said and did as he was bid.

Abigail’s mother took prescription medication for her nerves, it was most likely time for another batch to be picked up. He could instruct Matthew to accompany Abigail, though he might not be pleased. Those in service saw and knew everything that was happening in their house. If Matthew did not already know of the relationship between Hannibal and Will he certainly suspected and Francis was well aware of his jealousy and was watching the situation closely as Hannibal had requested. He would have done so anyway, he was loyal to the house that he had grown up in and Matthew had no idea how much better things were when Count Lecter was in a good mood.

He was clearly besotted with the house’s newest resident and he had only ever shown such tender feelings for his little sister, not any other short term lover. Francis knew of Hannibal’s darkest memories and shared them. This happiness was deserved and, while he was not a romantic, he hoped it would last.

**********

Will was still deeply asleep when Francis returned with a tray laden with pastries and fruit for breakfast. After he had opened up the curtains and a window he nodded his head and left them alone.

“Will?” Hannibal cooed gently, stoking a hand through his curls. He mumbled sweetly but was still mostly asleep. “Darling, please, it is time to wake up,” he said, jostling Will from his comfortable position resting on Hannibal’s chest.

“Wha-?” He mumbled, opening his eyes in confusion.

“There you are,” Hannibal said with a wide grin.

Will looked around the room and noticed how bright it was. His eyes landed on the clock and he sat up, waking up properly. “I’ve slept too late,” he said, casting his eyes around for a robe.

“There is no reason to hurry away love,” Hannibal said, tugging his back down onto the bed. “Stay here and have breakfast in bed with me.”

Will enjoyed the view of Hannibal’s naked body as he retrieved the silver serving tray before returning to the bed. “You brought me breakfast in bed,” he said, happily.

“Francis did,” Hannibal confessed. Will no longer panicked at the thought of Francis’s knowing of their situation, he trusted Hannibal and his judgement.

“I can’t stay too long,” he said reluctantly while helping himself to a shiny red apple. “I do not trust my valet as much as you do.”

“Luckily my trusted valet has sent Mr. Brown on an errand of some kind,” Hannibal said with amusement. “I have you to myself for at least a few more hours.”

“But how will I get dressed all by myself?” Will asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I shall watch over you as you do so, in case you are in need of help,” Hannibal offered, placing a reassuring hand on Will’s shoulder.

“You are very kind,” Will answered with a sunny smile.

“Yes but do try not to tell anyone,” Hannibal said with a chuckle. “I do have my reputation as a bed-tempered and fierce protector to think of.”

“Another secret for us,” Will said with a smile.

“I won't tell if you won't,” Hannibal agreed. “I trust you to keep your silence.”

“Who would I tell?” Will asked with a nervous laugh, feeling the easy levity slip away.

Hannibal avoided the first name that came to mind. “Do you have any idea what could happen if either of us were to trust the wrong person?” Hannibal asked.

“I do,” Will said seriously. “I know the consequences for both of us.”

“Not just us. If any staff member is suspected of knowing they could also be punished, they would certainly find it difficult to find another job. I can't even imagine what may happen if Mischa loses the only family she had left,” Hannibal said.

“You don't have to worry,” Will reassured him, pressing his body close to Hannibal. “You can trust me.”

“I do,” Hannibal replied, pressing his lips to Will's forehead. He let the subject drop and fed Will an apple slice.

**********

The clothes arrived later that day and the house held more ladies than usual. Mischa’s friends were as eager as she to see her new wardrobe and were gathered in her room as each dress was unpacked one by one.

Eloise had little interest in clothes but her older sister Daphne was present to gush over the expensive fabrics along with Abigail and Penelope’s older sister Phillipa, most likely present because she had been there when Penelope was invited.

As far as the elder Featherington sister girls went Phillipa was slightly less objectionable. She could be mean to Penelope but it was often under the encouragement of Prudence, a nasty piece of work in Hannibal’s opinion. Phillipa was simply an idiot. To Mischa she had an unusual mind and sunny disposition. Hannibal loved her all the more when she said that.

“This one may be my favourite,” Misha said as a long dress in shimmery shades of bronze was unfolded.

“It’s brown,” Phillipa objected, she had also lowered her hemlines but her own clothes were much brighter.

“Look,” Mischa said, taking the dress from Abigail and moving into the patch of sunlight streaming through the window. She moved the dress, displaying how the colours shifted and changed in the light. “Madame Delecroix recommended the fabric,” she explained.

“She never offered such finery to me!” Phillipa objected.

“How could she?” Penelope said. “You know Mother chooses the fabric. Our family is known for their bright colours.”

Phillipa brightened up at that, Penelope's complaint too subtle to be picked up. “Yes, did you hear what Lady LiFi said about us?” She said with a smile. “She compared us to bright, exotic birds,” she said proudly.

Eloise rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to point out the insult but Daphne very diplomatically cut her off. “Not everyone suits such bright silks,” she said. “It’s so different from your usual family colours.”

“Hannibal was busy getting Will dressed so I got to make my own choices,” Mischa said happily.

“You are very lucky,” Eloise said. “When it comes my turn I expect to spend every day battling with my Mother to get anything other than blue, blue and more blue,” she snapped. “I apologise,” she said a moment later. Mischa rarely mentioned her parents, tragically she could not remember them, but she would most likely prefer to go shopping with her Mother fussing over colours and fit. “The embroidery detail is very pretty,” she offered.

“Tell us more about the boy,” Phillipa requested. “I hear he is absolutely divine! He’s a bachelor, yes?”

“Yes, he’s unmarried and yes he is very handsome,” Mischa confirmed, blushing a little. “He is most kind and pleasant company.”

“You know my thoughts on the subject,” Eloise chimed in.

“I’m surprised I don't,” Daphne said. “How have I been spared this opinion?”

“Eloise suggested that Mischa marry this Will and save herself the bother of balls,” Penelope informed her.

“Not all of us despise socialising,” Daphne informed her little sister. “But if there is no better offer he sounds a suitable match.”

“Did you know it is possible to be friends with a man?” Mischa asked with a cheeky smile. Four of the ladies laughed but Phillipa was once again confused.

“Really?” She asked with wide eyes.

“So they say,” Eloise said.

“I don’t know any girls with a male friend,” she said, brow furrowed in confusion.

“Colin,” Penelope offered. “He is my friend.”

“See,” Mischa said. “Just because he is kind and gentle that does not mean I must marry him.”

“But it must make things easier,” Phillipa said. “After knowing you so long he will almost certainly propose once you are out and so you do not need to worry about finding a match as you have your back-up in place.”

“I don’t just want a man, I want the right man,” Mischa replied. “Daphne, you feel the same don’t you?”

“I hope for a love match yes but I do see Phillipa’s point,” she conceded. “It is best for a lady to have as many options as possible.”

“Might I point out how beautiful, accomplished and sweet Misha is?” Eloise interjected. “You will have a collection of suitors by the end of your first season and have a finer pick than most ladies.”

“Perhaps I shall try to secure myself a Brigteon,” Mischa teased.

“As if Hannibal would ever allow you to marry a second son,” Daphne laughed.

“You do not think I can win Anthony?” She asked with a giggle.

“If you do, even I will congratulate you,” Eloise said. “Sister,” she added with a wink.

“I always wanted sisters,” she mused.

“So leave the handsome newcomer for the rest of us!” Phillipa said with a laugh. “Does he like cheese?”

**********

Hannibal monopolised Will’s attention once Matthew returned and when he had unpacked Will’s new wardrobe and retired downstairs for his own lunch the two went through Will’s new attire.

“I may need some help getting into some of these,” Will said, admiring the pearl trimmed ruffled jacket. “Do you like it?” He asked Hannibal.

Hannibal took the jacket from its hanger and gestured for Will to remove the pale green jacket he was wearing. He held out the jacket for Will to slide his arm into, soothing it over his shoulders and freeing his longer curls from the high collar. The dark fabric skimmed his body, dipping in at the waist before it opened up to reveal his breeches, falling in layers and ending at his knees. “Even lovelier than I expected,” he promised, turning Will towards the mirror. He tilted Will’s chin up and pressed a hand to the small of his back. “Stand up straight, dear. You are worth more than most members of the ton and their inflated sense of self importance. Do not forget it.”

Will obeyed and smiled at his reflection. “I think I’m starting to believe you,” he admitted.

“Good,” Hannibal purred. “Try it with the pale blue shirt,” Hannibal urged, retrieving a wonderfully soft and thin shirt from the wardrobe,” Will obeyed, enjoying the feel of Hannibal’s eyes on his as he changed.

Hannibal discreetly locked the door, relicing on a sofa as he coaxed Will into trying on every item of clothing in various combinations. Hannibal was enjoying the view of Will’s body as he had the night before but it was the change in the way he carried himself that interested him most. With every fine article of clothing, Will stood taller, was more eager to look at himself. Even the most critical member of the ton would believe him to have lived in finery since birth, the same finery Hannibal would provide him with for the rest of his days. As his lover and his brother-in-law.

“This one feels a little tight,” he said, tugging on the lapels of a cream jacket trimmed with muted green lace. Hannibal came to join in.

“This style is not meant to fully close,” he explained, pulling Will's hands from the jacket. “It laces rather than buttons, you see,” he threaded the complicated laces on the front of the jacket, his waistcoat almost completely visible. “Much cooler in the summer months. Perfect fit,” he said with a smile. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yeah, it all feels so expensive,” Will said, almost whispering.

“It is,” Hannibal agreed, his voice also low but much more painful. “But we must make sure you can dance in it,” he said, moving towards Will’s vanity table. “Where is the satin green scarf?” He asked, opening up a drawer.

“Second drawer down,” Will answered, focusing on his feet as he tried to recall the more complex dance steps. He turned to face Hannibal when he heard a soft chuckle. Hannibal had discovered the silver pendant the tailor had given him and was holding it upward with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh… t-the tailor gave it to me,” he explained, feeling an odd sort of guilt for hiding it.

“Of course he did,” Hannibal said with an easy smile. “He always has a free gift for a pretty face.”

“You’re not upset?” He asked.

“Did you expect me to be wild with jealousy?” Hannibal asked, leaving the necklace on the table as he moved closer to Will.

“No.”

“Hoping then?” Hannibal teased. He kissed Will’s rosy cheekbones, tilting his chin up for a soft kiss. “The thought of you with another is torturous to me, why do you think I am so determined to leave marks all over your lovely body?” He asked, placing a hand on the curve of Will’s waist where he knew there was a circle of purple left by his lips. I assume since it is tossed in a drawer that you are not treasuring this trinket?”

Will shook his head. “You warned me about encouraging your jealousy,” he said.

“I did,” he admitted. “But after spending nearly an hour watching you undressing and admiring yourself I find myself thrilled that I get to have you all to myself,” he purred, wrapping an arm around Will’s waist and drawing him close. His other hand took one of Will’s hands, smiling peacefully as he toyed with his fingers. “I do, don’t I?” He asked, a slight threat creeping into his voice.

Will nodded. “You have me,” he confirmed, tugging Hannibal into a deep kiss. “Do I have you all to myself?” He asked with an adorable pout.

“Whether you like it or not sweetling,” Hannibal said, teeth scraping at Will's ear lobe.

Will pressed himself closer to Hannibal, absorbing his heat and letting his kisses drive away any thoughts of the future. Hannibal began to undo the complicated laces at Will’s front and tug off his fine clothes. Will managed to strip off Hannibal’s less complicated clothes as they moved towards the bed. “It’s the middle of the day,” Will gasped as Hannibal’s hands wandered to his backside.

“I like seeing you, no shadows hiding your delicious skin,” Hannibal moaned.

“So much for being careful,” Will sighed as Hannibal pushed him to sit.

“The door is locked, there is only us,” Hannibal promised, sinking to his knees and parting Will’s legs. Will let his tense muscles go slack as Hannibal peeled his new breeches down his legs, sucking a mark on his inner thigh. Will let out an undignified snort when Hannibal suckled on his swollen head, his dick growing harder and hotter from the minor stimulation.

Hannibal smirked with pride and slid his tongue down the underside of Will’s dick before leaving wet sloppy kisses on his heavy balls. When he returned his attention to Will’s throbbing member he was moaning with every breath, soft low sounds of pleasure and contentment.

Opening his mouth wide, Hannibal pushed himself forward until he felt the salty tip of Will’s dick brush the back of his throat. He hollowed out his cheeks, bathing Will’s shaft in heat and saliva, hands massaging Will’s thighs firmly. His eyes were fluttering shut when his door rattled. His eyes flew and he bit down on his lower lips to hold back a moan.

Hannibal softly snarled around his length and grasped his legs harder.

“Will?” The door shook again as Matthew tried to open the door.

Hannibal began to suck harder, sliding a hand up Will’s chest and encouraging him to lay down. Will went easily, willing Matthew to go away! He did not and called for him louder. “I - ah! I am resting,” he called back, voice shaking more than he would like.

“Will?”

“Leave me please!” He almost begged, one hand in Hannibal’s hair and the other pressed to his own mouth.

Hannibal drew back, releasing his dick with a wet pop and wrapping his hands around his slicked erection. He left wet kisses and bites along Will’s inner thighs, enjoying the way they quivered and his dick pulsed.

Words floated to Will through a haze of soft pleasure. “Mine,” Hannibal rumbled softly. “My Will,” Will could feel himself nodding and moaning in agreement, believing every word and loving it, his body growing warm and flushing rosy. “Only mine, never his,” he swore, sucking Will deeper into his mouth and gripping him by the hips to keep him there as he came. Will pushed his face into a pillow to muffle his cries of ecstasy as Hannibal swallowed his seeds greedily.

Will was still catching his breath when Hannibal crawled onto the bed and lay next to him, a hand stroking over his racing heart. Will turn his head towards Hannibal with a grin, leaning in for a kiss. He broke away when a laugh bubbled up from his lips. “Overwhelmed again?” Hannibal asked, softly laughing along.

“No, it’s not that,” Will said, ducking his head.

“Tell me?” Hannibal asked.

“You’re jealous of Matthew,” Will said.

“Not,” Hannibal weakly denied.

“Yes you are,” Will giggled, turning to wrap his arms around Hannibal. “Ridiculous man,” he said fondly. “You have nothing to be jealous of,” Hannibal shifted to look Will in the eye. “I promise.”

“Thank you Will,” he said softly. “Yes, I am jealous. You cannot deny he is attracted to you,” he swatted Will’s ass when the younger man laughed again. “You are enjoying my jealousy, aren’t you?”

“The tiniest bit,” Will admitted, still a little giddy.

“Wicked boy,” Hannibal said, happily coiling his body around Will’s.

“Why him but not the tailor?” Will asked curiously.

“Barnabus is straight,” Hannibal answered simply, amused by Will’s surprised face. “His flirting is all to attract repeat business. He is no threat to me.”

Hannibal's breathing was growing slower and Will continued petting his hair gently. “No-one is a threat to you,” Will promised him.

Hannibal murmured something Will could not understand and he was too blissed out to concern himself with the slurred word.

If he was more focused he might have noticed that the word was: “Mischa.”

Chapter Text

Will smoothed down the front of his waistcoat, he was oddly nervous about today’s event even though it was meant to be a casual affair. Nothing felt casual in this world but he was comfortable sharing meals with Hannibal and Misha, even if every meal did feel like a more formal occasion. He was nervous about meeting so many people and he hoped to hide in a corner while they focused on the birthday girl.

He settled himself at the baby grand in his room, playing a simple exercise to try and steady his nerves. It was Misha’s birthday and he felt selfish for worrying about his own nervousness.

“Your dexterity is improving,” Hannibal observed from the doorway. Will turned to face him and smiled as Hannibal came fully into the room. “No Matthew?”

“He’s still sulking,” Will said with a shrug. “He comes if I ring for them but otherwise busies himself elsewhere.”

“The offer stands to have him removed,” Hannibal said.

“No, it’s fine and he is good at his job,” Will said, raising his arm. “Look how neat my cufflinks are.”

“Very nice,” Hannibal said with a smile. “And the perfect complement to your outfit,” he added, smoothing his hand over the forest green lapels.

“I chose them myself,” Will answered, beaming with pride.

“You were born to be a gentleman,” Hannibal assured him with a warm smile. He checked the hallway before firmly closing the door. He returned to Will and pulled him to his feet. “So handsome,” he said, stroking Will’s cheek.

Hannibal settled his hand on Will’s waist, kissing him softly. These soft brief touches were swiftly becoming his favourite kind of touch. They had agreed very early on that their relationship had to be a well guarded secret but Hannibal found ways to make Will feel special every hour.

Their nights were spent in passionate embraces, most nights Will returned to his own room just before dawn but it was after drifting off in Hannibal arms for a couple of hours of much needed sleep. Every time they were alone Hannibal insisted on touching him and drawing him into a sensual embrace. The way he kissed him at night set his blood racing south and had him breathing heavily within seconds but the soft secret kisses made his stomach flutter pleasantly. Affection was not something Will had much experience in but he found himself craving it along with Hannibal soft fond looks. Francis was in on the secret but Will got the sense he approved.

Will smiled and wrapped his hands around Hannibal’s shoulders, smiling at him with starry eyes. “How long do we have before your guests begin arriving?” He asked.

“Not long enough,” Hannibal said reluctantly. “But I needed a moment with you.”

“I thought you liked Misha’s friends?” Will said confused.

“I do, mostly,” Hannibal said, releasing Will and reaching into his inner pocket. “I need a moment because I have a gift for you,” he withdrew a black box with a teasing smile. “Do you want it?” He asked. Will ducked his head but nodded bashfully, feeling his cheeks colour. “Speak Will,” he requested, tilting Will’s chin up to see his eyes.

“Yes please,” Will answered, quietly, leaning his heated cheeks into Hannibal’s broad palm. He had thought Hannibal’s insistence on buying him a new wardrobe had been in order to help him appear a proper gentleman. But he had come to see that Hannibal truly enjoyed giving him gifts and Will was still embarrassed to admit how much he enjoyed receiving these gifts.

“Turn around, sweetling,” he said. Will obeyed and heard the tinkle of metal before something heavy was placed around his neck. Hannibal guided him to face the mirror, hands heavy on his shoulders. He combed his fingers through Will’s curls affectionately. “I think it suits you.”

On a silver chain around Will’s neck was an ornate circle that contained jewels of blue and green that glittered brightly over his heart. They were more vibrantly coloured than the broaches he wore at his throat and he was almost nervous to touch it. “It’s beautiful,” he said softly.

“I told you you would have your own jewels,” Hannibal reminded him, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck. He loosened the tight collar of his shirt and slipped the ornament underneath. The light weight was cool and firm against his sternum and it felt like a kiss. “Come and help me set out the food while Misha finishes making herself pretty.”

“Making herself pretty?” Will repeated in bewilderment.

“Her words,” Hannibal replied. “I have no idea what she means either.”

The kitchen was filled with party foods, towers of macaroons, fruit platters and delicate sandwiches. Hannibal and Will moved the food through to the drawing room which was decorated with a few paper streamers. “Here, eat,” Hannibal urged, holding out a small piece of cake. Will accepted it automatically and let out a pleased hum at the fruity sweet taste.

“It’s delicious, you are an amazing cook,” he replied.

“Yes I am,” Hannibal agreed. “But this was Micsha’s work.”

“A talented family,” Will observed. “Do you still think I’m good enough?” He asked shyly.

“Absolutely,” Hannibal answered immediately. He took Will’s fingers in his, touch light and delicate. His dark eyes fell on their connecting fingers, voice soft and difficult to read. “Our arrangement is not as simple as I believed but I am still confident that I can ensure Mischa’s happiness.”

“Hannibal,” Will began.

“Hannibal?”

Hannibal released his hand and stepped back. “Speak of the angel.”

Will followed Hannibal over to the foyer where Mischa’s voice had come from. When he took in the sight of her at the top of the stairs he felt his mouth fall open and his stomach swooped. She was breathtaking.

Will hadn’t seen Mischa in anything but light pastels, usually in the family colours, but she seemed to have transformed since last night. She descended the stairs, floating like an ethereal beauty, the sunlight washing over her and making her shine.

The dress she wore covered her long legs completely and exposed more of her milky cleavage. The dress was a warm bronze colour with hints of gold reflecting the sunlight streaming through the window. Her golden hair was twirled and pinned upon her head, her face and neck exposed and dark copper clips woven into her curls. Her large honey eyes glowed and she held herself with poise and maturity, a grown lady stood before them. “What do you think?” She asked when neither man spoke.

Hannibal spoke first, his voice warm with pride. “My little sister, you are all grown up,” she took his offered hand and smiled when he kissed her forehead.

“You look so beautiful,” Will managed eventually. “Really amazing,” if the eligible bachelors of London could see her now she would relieve a dozen proposals on the spot, breaking every record. Even with her hair and make-up carefully applied and wearing a new dress she held a soft of effortless beauty, her inner beauty shining through. Will was in awe of her.

The three of them moved through to the drawing room and Will found himself sitting on the sofa between the two Lecter siblings. It was moments like this that caused him to realise how bizarre his situation was.

He spent his night wrapped up in the arms of the brother while by day he prepared to be married to the sister. Though he knew that would never happen. Mischa was lovely, beautiful and sweet. She would make him happy as his wife but he would never be a good husband to anyone, least of all an angel like her. Not after what he had done. Hannibal would see it eventually and his happiness would end. A happiness he desperately wanted to cling to.

Hannibal shifted and his thigh brushed against Will’s while Mischa laughed at something he had said. Will let his negative thoughts fade away and he focused on what they were talking about. His happiness was temporary but he intended to enjoy every moment of it.

“Count Lecter, some guests have arrived,” Francis announced, entering the room almost silently. “Lady Portia Featherington, Miss Prudence Featherington, Miss Phillipa Feathignton and Miss Penelope Featherington.”

Four women with vibrant red hair entered the room, the family resemblance obvious as soon as they entered. Will recalled they had been described as ‘squawking parrots’ in the gossip rag that Mischa had shown him when Hannibal was elsewhere. He could understand the references, their clothes were a shock to the senses with the brightness.

Mischa rose to meet them and once they had exchanged pleasantries, all but the youngest rushed towards Hannibal and Will. “Count Lecter,” the mother gushed. “Thank you so much for your invitation, it is so important for young ladies to interact with their peers is not?”

“Quite,” Hannibal said, politely as he could. He had never invited the older Feathingtons over but they seemed to tag along with Penelope whenever possible. It irritated him as the younger girl was often ignored, her only worth being that she was friends with Misha and Eloise. Women that Portia deemed important enough to be friendly with. Her dark eyes settled on Will and with an almost silent sigh Hannibal granted her the introduction she so desperately wanted. “Will this is Baroness Featherington. Lady Feathington, Mister Will Graham,” he gestured to the tallest woman in a patterned dress of bright green who fluttered her eyelashes girlishly when Will bowed his head.

“Mister Graham, a pleasure to meet you. This is my eldest daughter Prudence,” she pushed forward the tallest girl, a tall young lady with long curling hair wearing a bright orange dress. “Prudence is a wonderful painter, you must come to see her watercolours sometimes. She sings like a bird as well,” she said proudly. Hannibal coughed discreetly and Will suspected he was hiding a sound of amusement, something he had perfected.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Will said politely as a younger redhead was thrust towards him, stumbling over her older sister's shoes. She had large eyes and a sweet smile which thankfully distracted from the shocking shade of pink she was dressed in.

“This is her sister Phillipa,” Portia said. “She played the piano forte very well and is a wonderful dancer. Do you enjoy music, mister Graham?”

“I do,” he admitted, speaking before she managed to wrangle a promise of a dance from him. “And your youngest daughter?” He prompted.

“Felicity, she is only nine but already shows a talent for gardening and has a flair for flower arranging. She is at home of course,” she rattled off looking a little confused.

“He means Pen,” Prudence supplied with an eye roll. She stepped closer to Will. “Don’t worry about her, she’s only Pen. All she does is read endlessly, read and eat,” she said with a mean giggle. Mischa had pulled Penelope closer when she was spoken of.

“Penelope, this is mister Will Graham. WIll this is my good friend Penelope,” she said. Will gave the shy girl a warmer smile.

“Hello Penelope, it is a pleasure to meet you,” he said.

“Call me Pen, please,” she responded. “Everyone does.”

“Penelope is not ready to be presented yet but Prudence was introduced to society last year,” Portia interrupted. “She has had her share of attention, perhaps you should claim a dance at Lady Danbury's ball now,” she prompted.

“A conversation with my name, how interesting,” came an amused sharp voice.

“Lady Danbury,” Francis said. The lady was dressed in dark burgundy and walked with a cane but held an air of authority. Portia shrank away from her narrowed eyes and soon Will caught her interest.

“So, this is the young man that has tongues wagging,” she said. “I can see why,” she commented, talking him in.

“Will Graham, may I introduce Lady Danbury,” Hannibal said with more enthusiasm.

“A pleasure,” Will added.

“Is it?” She asked. “Misha,” her smile softened slightly as she squeezed Mischa’s hand. “Happy birthday,” she handed her a small box. “I hear you are not coming out until next season but I suppose this will keep till then.”

Mischa opened the box and her eyes went wide. “Oh my, it’s stunning!” She gasped. “This is too generous,” she said, stroking what was inside the box with trembling fingers.

“Not at all,” she insisted. “You,” she jabbed her cane at Will. “Help her.”

Will found himself jumping to obey. He was as wide-eyed as Mischa when he saw what was in the box. It was a necklace more ornate and beautiful than anything he had seen before. The silver chain was curved and shaped into trailing vines with small dark green jewels dotted along the edges. In the centre as a perfect dark blue circular stone the captured and reflected the lights in the room. It was the family colours but darker, more mature. Will took the necklace in his hands and carefully draped it around her neck, clasping it securely. The metal looked perfect against her skin and when she turned to face Will her smile was bright. “Do you like it?” She asked.

“Beautiful,” he responded softly, looking at her rather than the ornament. The moment stretched out a little too long. Mischa noticed it too and when they were interrupted she stepped back with pink cheeks.

“As lovely as expected,” Lady Danbury said with satisfaction, rounding on Hannibal. “I see no reason why you insist on keeping such a lady locked away from society.”

“Lady Danbury I have no intention of keeping Mischa hidden forever but this season I am responsible for Will and I am sure you understand that when Mischa is introduced she will need my full attention,” Hannibal argued, his voice tired as though he had had this debate before.

“Hm,” she responded with a scoff. “Yes I can see a fully grown man will require all of your attention,” she said, voice heavy with sarcasm. Will had heard a lot about this fearsome lady and he found he liked her. Her honesty was reassuring, she was not difficult to understand and her eyes showed amusement even when she was arguing.

Hannibal was rescued by the reappearance of Francis. “Lady Violent Bridgeton,” Hannibal held up a hand before he continued. He stepped back to allow a small group to enter.

“Welcome Lady Bridgeton,” Hannibal same, taking the hand of the older moment. “Are we missing someone?” Will counted five people, he was sure head been told five children were accompanying their mother.

“Oh, um, yes, the Viscount appears to be running late again,” she said, awkwardly torn between embarrassment and annoyance at her eldest son’s behaviour. “I’m sure he will be here as soon as possible.”

“But the more interesting siblings are all here,” said the shortest girl, Will guessed it was Eloise. Her hemlines had not been lowered and the top of her dress was shaped like a man’s jacket, and unlike all the other ladies gathered, her hair was left to hang around her face. She was as attractive as her siblings but did not seem concerned with enhancing her looks. “Happy Birthday Mischa,” she said, crossing the room to hug her friend.

“I am inclined to agree,” Lady Danbury said. “How nice to see you again Lady Bridgeton,” she said, crossing over to Violet. “Where is your eldest?” She whispered.

“I have no idea,” she admitted under her breath, shooting a look at her younger sons. Benedict focused on the floor while his younger brother looked unaware.

“Will, this is Eloise Brigerton. Eloise, Will Graham,” Misha introduced.

“I have no interest in hat-making, find books more interesting than most men and am a terrible dancer,” she announced proudly.

“So am I,” Will agreed, relieved when she smiled and nodded at him.

Hannibal placed his hand on the small of Will’s back, reassuring him with his touch as he introduced him to the rest of the family. Will was bad with names but the use of the alphabet helped him and thankfully the Bridgertons were more interested in Mischa although Portia refused to leave him alone, constantly asking him questions and pushing her girls towards him. Phillipa was a little dim but her company was much more preferable to her older sister who found plenty of opportunities to be cruel to both her sisters.

“Mister Graham, help me get settled would you?” Lady Danbury requested, shooing them away from him with her cane. Will took her arm and gratefully escaped their interrogation. “You looked in need of rescue. Prudence is entering her second season with no offers and the only thing more dangerous than an ambitious mama is an ambititous mama with a desperate daughter. Perhaps this will be her lucky year, every lady looking prettier next to a sneering brat.”

“Are you insulting someone again Lady Danbury?” Benedict asked with a grin.

“My observations are always true,” she said with a proud smile.

“If rarely kind,” Portia said,a hint of sourness in her tone.

“She has often found herself on the sharpest barb of Lady Danbury’s famous tongue,” Hannibal informed him, speaking softly and close to his ear.

“You’re talking about Cressida Cowper aren’t you?” Eloise asked, eagerly.

“Eloise please, not again,” Daphne pleaded.

“You heard her,” Eloise objected. “It would serve her right if you were to come out this season, Mischa too,” she insisted.

“There were some unkind words overheard at the modiste yesterday,” Violet explained apologetically. “Eloise is still upset by it.”

“From Cressida? Everything that comes out of her mouth is unpleasant,” Prudence sniffed.

“She would know,” Hannibal whispered. Will fought to hide his smile.

“What did she say to you?” Mischa asked Eloise in concern.

“Cressida doesn’t deign me important enough to talk to,” Eloise informed her. “She was talking to Madame Delacroix, loud enough for everyone to hear her, awful woman, she was clearly trying to get a rise out of Daphne.”

“I doubt that was what she was trying to do,” Daphne said. “Her coming out and marriage prospects are of little interest to me. I wish her the best.”

“Because you are perfect,” Colin said with a grin. “Our lovely sweet sister.”

“Yes, always so good,” Benedict agreed.

“I know you are teasing,” Daphne responded, taking a delicate drink of her tea. “Beside Mischa is much nicer than I.”

“Yes yes Daphne and Mischa are both lovely now what did the witch say,” Lady Danbury asked with impatience. “I am rather old and in need of gossip.”

“Cressida is coming out this season and thanks to the latest tattletale issue she knows that her biggest rivals won’t be out yet. It has made her unbelievably cocky. She was discussing which men she will ‘leave ‘for Daphne and Mischa to settle for. As if they will only have the leftovers she did not deem impressive enough for herself,” she said with a scoff. “This was before she started on her new clothes and how dull blue and green are in comparison.”

“I do appreciate her bright colours,” Portia put in. “Though I hear her style is most bizarre.”

“It is certainly usual. I saw one of her completed dresses and she had to turn sideways to get out of the changing room,” Daphne admitted.

“Madame Delecroix has more patience than I,” Eloise answered. “Both Cressida and Lady Cowper were insisting on bigger shoulders.”

“Are large shoulders desirable this season?” Phillipa eventually asked.

“Don’t be stupid, she’s doing it for attention because she’s not that pretty,” Prudence snapped.

“Cressida has a decent fortune,” Penelope said. “There are a great many men who care for that more than appearance.”

“Or personality,” Eloise added.

“What if she doesn’t find a husband?” Phillipa asked in hushed tones.

“That would be the worst thing possible,” Eloise answered with mock seriousness.

“You jest but it is different for someone like Cressida,” Mischa said. “She is an only child. With no older brother to look after her, what is she to do when her parents pass? She will be completely alone.”

“Is that so awful?” Eloise asked.

“I don’t know how I would have survived losing Edmund without my children,” Violet interjected, smiling when her second son took her hand.

“Not everyone can be as independent as you Eloise,” Hannibal interjected. “There is nothing wrong with seeking marriage though many choose it because they have never considered another path. The young Miss Cowper is following the path laid out before her, it would be kind to wish her well.”

“Do you wish her well?” Lady Danbury asked with an amused smile.

“I shall save my well wishes for her future husband, he will need it more,” Hannibal responded, hiding his smirk behind the rim of his teacup.

Francis entered again, accompanied by a most handsome man with the same dark colouring of his brother. “Viscount Anthony Bridgerton.”

Chapter Text

Anthony was as handsome as his younger siblings, even with his clothes slightly rumpelled. “I apologise for my lateness, happy birthday Mischa,” he said, with a polite bow, flashing his most charming smile.

“I trust it was unavoidable,” Lady Danbury said, eyes narrowed and sarcasm heavy in her tone. Violet Bridgeton held her tongue but sent him a disapproving look.

“Good to see you Anthony,” Hannibal greeted, clasping his hand and leaning in close. “I hope Siena is well,” he added quietly, brushing a finger over a red mark on his neck. Anthony’s face coloured and he nodded a thank you before adjusting his neck tie to cover the evidence of his less than gentlemanly activities.

“Siena?” Will asked.

“An opera singer, London’s least well kept secret,” Hannibal explained, head tilted close so as to not offend the ladies in the room.

“Siena Rose?” He asked.

“Rosso, do you know her?” Hannibal asked.

“A lifetime ago,” Will said. “Maybe. She had the voice of an angel.”

“Quite the coincidence if she is not the same lady. There is a performance in a couple of weeks that Mischa is pleading to see, join us?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Of course,” Will said with a grateful smile.

“What are you two whispering about?” Lady Danbury demanded. “Some of us have failing hearing.”

“But you are not one of them,” Violet Birdgerton said.

“That is true, I like to hear everything,” the older lady said with a cheeky smile.

“I would not be at all surprised if you turned out to be the famous Lady LiFe,” Daphne added which drew a round of laughter.

“Are you?” Phillpa asked with wide eyes.

“I am far too fond of telling people what I think to their face to hide behind a false name,” Lady Danbury responded. She had spoken to Phillipa enough times that there was no point in not speaking plainly. “Now stop distracting me,” she turned back to Will and Hannibal. “Share with the group please.”

“We were discussing Mischa’s gift,” Hannibal lied smoothly.

Francis appeared once again. “Lord Lecter, there is a gentleman at the door. He says he is expected.”

Hannibal nodded his understanding. “Come and see,” he said to Will before heading to the door. There was a nervous looking young man in the foyer holding a squirming ball of fur. “Peter, welcome,” Hannibal said politely, eyes on the little pup in his arms.

“Hello Count Lecter,” Peter said, voice barely audible. “S-she’s the smallest in the litter but she’s one of the sweetest,” Peter said, holding out a small dog with long ears and warm dark eyes.

“Hello, little one,” Hannibal said gently. The dog licked his hand and pushed her head up to sniff at his face. Will stepped closer and petted the small animal who became quite animated at all the attention. “Thank you Peter, would you like a drink before leaving?”

“N-no thank you,” Peter answered. “I hope Lady Mischa likes her.”

“She will love her,” Hannibal said with certainty. Francis saw Peter to the door as Will and Hannibal headed back to the drawing room. Hannibal cleared his throat before coming into sight. “Eyes closed,” he said loudly.

“Hannibal!” Mischa called back with a light laugh.

“Eyes closed,” he repeated with his own soft chuckle.

“They’re closed,” she said after a moment.

There was a chorus of soft coos when he carried the dog into the room and gently placed her in Mischa’s lap. She opened her eyes with a soft gasp. “Oh aren’t you precious?” She cooed, stroking the fur between her ears. “Is he mine?” She asked in wonder.

“She and yes,” Hannibal said warmly.

“Thank you Hannibal, she’s beautiful,” Mischa said, beaming brightly. “What’s her name?”

“She doesn’t have one yet,” she said with a gentle eye roll. The nameless pet was quite overwhelmed with all the attention and was rolling around in delight, pushing her body into Mischa’s hands. “You choose.”

“As she’s a bitch might I recommend Cressida,” Eloise put in.

“She’s far too pretty for that,” Prudence said scornfully.

“I quite agree,” Lady Danbury said, smiling as she petted the excitable animal.

“How about Molly?” Mischa said to the little animal who yapped happily. “Molly it is then,” she said, hugging her and no doubt covering her fine dress in dog hair.

“I know pomeranians are the fashion but I am told cavaliers are calmer and less inclined to raise the alert every time someone dares walk along the street,” Hannibal supplied, as Will crouched down to fuss over Molly.

“Do you like dogs?” Mischa asked him.

“I love them,” Will told her.

“You are responsible for training her. The staff have put aside some cuts of meat for her dinner,” Hannibal said, smiling when Molly licked his hand. “She is very sweet.”

“I thought you weren’t fond?” Will said.

“I am not fond of yappy vicious things with ridiculously oversized bows,” Hannibal clarified. “So far Molly has been utterly charming and Peter tells me she is very sweet tempered.”

“Oh she would look so sweet with a bow,” Phillipa gushed.

“Just a small one,” Mischa agreed. “I could use one of Fortuna’s, they’re the same colour.”

“How’s the new filly doing Hannibal,” Benedict asked.

“Persephone, she’s still a little shy but settling well,” Hannibal said.

“And Thor?”

“Strong as ever thought he doesn’t talk to me about girls,” Hannibal said with a smirk.

“I think he likes her,” Will said.

“Are you his new confidant?” Colin asked with an open smile and Penelope giggled, her eyes a little starry.

“I couldn’t possibly say,” Will responded. “It’s a secret.”

“Will is very good with animals,” Hannibal said with a hint of pride. “Persephone seems quite taken with him.”

“Then you should put in a good word for Thor,” Colin quipped.

“Will do,” Will answered, unconsciously matching the energy of the room. The Bridgerton’s were all comfortable with themselves, an easy confidence born of the privilege of being born rich and pretty. The older Featheringtons were not self-reflective enough to notice any insecurity and Lady Danbury held more power than most of England’s Lords put together. He settled into the role but it did not fit him well.

“He will be entering a race next month,” Hannibal informed them.

“I will be certain to put a wager on him,” Anthony said, his brothers nodding in agreement.

“Not you Colin,” Violet interjected. “You know I disapprove of some of your brother’s activities and I will not have them dragging you down with them, not yet,” she finished. Colin nodded with his most charming, boyish smile. He was maybe a year from escaping his leading strings and happily joining his brother in their many sins.

Eloise took advantage of the distraction and whispered her bet to Benedict who nodded his understanding. Hannibal was familiar with the desire to be the favorite brother, although he had considerably less competition. Most families were the same at their core.

“Do you gamble much, Will?” Anthony asked.

“Never,” he admitted.

“Wise man,” he said with a smile. “There is nothing wrong with abstaining, better than leaving your debts unpaid,” he said, cutting a lightning fast look to the Featheringtons.

“If only my husband was as wise as you,” Portia said with a slightly forced laugh. “Still I suppose he wins enough to keep our girls in finery,” she said. “Sit up straight, Prudence,” her girls had faded into the background, unable to compete with Molly’s effortless charm.

The group carried on chatting as Will focused on the pretty dog. No-one noticed Lady Danbury's sharp eyes travelling between Will and Mischa's cooing over the dog and the surprisingly warm look that Hannibal directed at his young ward. She discreetly sighed under her breath, another nobleman playing with fire and believing himself immune to the burn.

**********

Lady Danbury was the last to leave and she ordered Will to escort her to her carriage. As soon as they reached the foyer, away from others ears she almost knocked him off her feet. “How long have you and Hannibal been together, it must have been a while if he’s moving you in and showing you off.”

“I think there has been some misunderstanding, Lady Danbury,” he said carefully.

“I may be old but I am not blind Mister Graham,” she answered.

“I’m a distant relative and Hannibal has kindly offered - “

“Yes, yes, he is famed for her kindness,” she answered sarcastically. “Your secret is safe with me but if you are looking to find yourself a second daughter from the ton you are wrong. People do marry up and I have a feeling you could manage it but I also know Hannibal Lecter, I have known him most of his life and he has never looked at a single man or lady the way he looks at you,” she said firmly.

“Like what?” Will asked quietly as the, apparently deaf, footman opened her carriage door.

“Like he will never let you go,” she said with a wry smile. “I shall see you at my ball, I assume you have been made aware that attendance is not optional.”

“Yes Lady Danbury,” he replied.

“You have done well,” she said with a hint of softness. “Anyone would think you were born into this world, not an easy thing to fake,” Will nodded dumbly, she had not been fooled but she soundly somewhat… impressed at his deceit. He had almost been looking forward to her ball but now he was more nervous than ever.

**********

He had hoped to find a quiet moment to speak to Hannibal, at least about parts of their conversation, the last part. The comments about his gaze he wanted to keep to himself for a while. It opened a can of worms but he still felt a strange sense of warmth in his chest. He was in awe of Hannibal sometimes, not just his appearance but his overwhelming presence and he wondered if it was possible that Hannibal saw him as something worth keeping for himself, and would he actually do it. Keep him? A small voice in his mind questioned whether he wanted that; a life with Hannibal rather than his sister. It meant a life of secrecy and he had enough of those to keep already.

Most of the food had been eaten but when he returned to the drawing room Hannibal was quietly speaking to Sarah about sandwiches. Will smiled at him and joined Mischa who was on the floor, using a broken up macaron to teach Molly to sit. “Should you really be feeding her sweeties?” He asked. “I can fetch her meat cuts if you wish,” she glanced at him and Molly took advantage of the distinction and managed to steal the rest of the macaroon from Misha’s fingers. “Never mind, I think she has a sweet tooth.”

“She’s adorable,” Mischa gushed. “I love dogs, this completely makes up for not coming out.”

“Next season right?” Will said.

“Yes, when I’ll be nineteen, one of the oldest there,” she said, smile dimming a little. “Sometimes I worry Hannibal wants to keep me from ever finding a husband, as if I was leaving forever.”

“Don’t most ladies move into their husband’s estate?” Will asked. He knew that her leaving was exactly what Hannibal feared but could they be unfounded?

“Of course I will be moving out of this house but I will only marry a man who loves me and if he loves me then he must understand that we will be staying in London and spending at least part of the off season at my family’s summer estate. You will like it there, it’s beautiful,” she said with a smile. “Hannibal never intends to marry and while many men say that when you are young I do believe he means it. I can’t even recall the last time we were apart for more than a day and I want to stay close to him. Even when my name changes he will remain my family.”

“No wealthy American’s then?” Will joked.

“Not unless they are setting up an office in London. Gabi tells me Sam has a wonderfully handsome older brother,” she added in a scandalised whisper, making him laugh.

Hannibal made his way over to them but stopped when Francis returned. “Your final guests are here, Count Lecter,” he said, something like a smile tugging at his mouth.

“Who else are we expecting?” Misha asked, rising to her feet and something down her gown.

Hannibal grinned but did not immediately answer. “I hope you can handle meeting a couple more people, Will,” Hannibal said discreetly.

A feminine voice was heard coming closer and Mischa’s eyes widened. “It can’t be…”

A woman almost as beautiful as Mischa appeared in the doorway, though they looked nothing alike. Her skin was darker, healthy and sunkissed rather than powdered white and her long curly hair was dark and glossy, hanging loose down her back, her eyes just as dark and unusually large though it only seemed to enhance her elegant beauty. She was delicate like Mischa, her long limbs and big eyes reminding him of a woodland creature. Her face broke into a smile when she took in Mischa who gasped in delight. “Happy birthday, dearest,” she said, a hint of French in her accent though it was faint.

“Gabi!” Mischa yelled, running into the girl’s arms and squealing in excitement. They were both chattering excitedly, too fast for Will to follow and taking in each other’s appearance with gushing compliments.

A giant of a man soon joined them. Hannibal was tall but the man towered over him, his clothes more casual than most and his hair longer than Will’s. “Good to see you again Hannibal,” he said warmly.

“How was your journey?” Hannibal asked politely.

“Exhuastiing but worth it,” the man answered with a tired smile.

“Will this is Samuel Weston, he married a dear friend of mine,” Hannibal explained. “Samuel, this is Will, a distant cousin who is staying with us for the season. Hopefully Mr Brown will be able to split his time between you.”

“Matthew is here?” Samuel responded, his brow furrowing a little.

“Yes, I know you were pleased with his service when you were last here. He is now Will’s valet,” Hannibal said. Mischa had guided her friend over for an introduction. “Gabrielle, America agrees with you it seems,” he said, swiftly embracing her.

“Marriage certainly does,” she answered, smiling up at Samuel when he put an arm around her.

“Look,” Mischa said, holding out her wrist, now encased in a silver bracelet with clear and blue stones, similar to one Gabrielle wore. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Lovely,” Hannibal agreed. “Gabrielle, this is Will, a relative who is here for at least the next season.”

“Hello Will, pleased to meet you,” she responded politely.

“I can’t believe you are here!” Mischa exclaimed, lifting Molly into her arms.

“I can’t believe you have a dog,” Gabrielle answered. “It was all Hannibal’s idea for us to surprise you.”

Mischa threw her arms around Hannibal. “Thank you Hannibal,” she said, face glowing with happiness.

“I am in desperate need of news from London,” Gabrielle told Mischa. “Has Lady LiFe returned from the summer?”

“Only just, though she did not mention you,” Mischa told her.

“Then I win! Tell me everything,” they moved to the couch as Hannibal and Samuel filled Will in on his business overseas and told him some of the story of how he and Gabrielle met, a rare love match.

Gabrielle bent her head close to Mischa’s when they were seated. “I do wish to see the latest issue of Lady LiFe but you must tell me everything about that adorable young man, I hope you remember your promise to me about a long engagement so I can make my way here.”

“I’m not even out yet,” Mischa reminded her.

“Do you like him?” Gabrielle asked.

“Yes but I’m not sure if it’s that way,” she said with a light blush.

“Three weeks of ridiculous lords treading on your toes and you will understand why I advised you to marry a friend, as I did,” Gabrielle said, casting a fond look towards Samuel.

“Friend?” Mischa asked with a soft snort.

“Yes, my friend, whom I love dearly,” Gabrielle said. “So, as I have escaped her eyes, who is Fredrica tearing apart this year?”

**********

Samuel chose to rest after they had eaten, the journey had been long and he was not as fond of the ocean as his wife who handled the rocky waves as she did everything, with enviable grace.

He had barely slipped off his shoes when he was joined, a once familiar hand landing on his back, lips brushing his neck. “Your hair is even longer now, it’s nice,” Matthew said, stepping in close.

Samuel didn’t look at him but moved away before Matthew was able to embrace him fully. “I want to go to bed, Matthew,” he said, voice flat.

“So soon, I missed you too,” he quipped, reaching for Samuel’s hand, looking hurt when it was quickly pulled away. “Sammy…”

“Don’t,” he said shortly. “I told you, this won’t happen again.”

“I don’t understand,” Matthew said, still moving closer, growing more confident as Samuel stayed rooted in place, unable to keep himself from looking at the other man, the memories of heated nights spent together filling the space between him. Phantom words spoken long ago. “You just left. I meant it when I said I’d follow you anywhere, you meant it too when you said you wanted that.”

“I have a wife now,” Samuel growled, rubbing his forehead where a cluster headache was forming. Matthew gently took his hand in his, bringing it to his mouth as Samuel finally met his eyes.

“You owe me an explanation, Sammy, you know you do,” he whispered, bodies close enough to touch. He raised his face, his free hand moving through Samuel’s dark locks, guiding him closer, lips parting gently. Samuel snapped out it when their lips were only an inch apart, stepping back and knocking Matthew’s hand away.

“I am married, that is the only explanation. I owe you nothing. Please leave now,” he said, voice measured and deliberately cold.

“As you wish, my lord,” Matthew replied, holding eye contact for several drawn out seconds. “Rest well. I will return this evening, after attending to Will,” the use of his first name did not go unnoticed and neither did the way his eyes trailed over his former lover’s body before he left.

Samuel let out a long breath. As much as he loved Gabrielle, he had never managed to forget his first.

Chapter Text

Matthew had been quiet and subdued for days. Will tried to ignore it, not wanting to open up an inappropriate closeness once again but he didn’t seem sulky, he was sad. Something had happened on Mischa’s birthday that had shaken the young valet.

“Matthew, are you okay?” He ventured as Matthew removed his cravat a few days later. 

“I am fine Will,” he answered stiffly.

“Are you sure,” he pressed. He was unflinchingly polite, barely looking at Will but Will’s empathy was buzzing around him, telling him that there was something more going on. It wasn’t his business but he did feel sympathetic, yes Matthew had crossed a boundary but he had also been kind to Will when he was thrown into a world he did not quite understand. “If there is something wrong I would like to help, if I can.”

Matthew gave him a small sad smile at that. “You are very kind,” he said, almost amused. “We live in a very strange world, don’t we?”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Will said.

“It does not matter,” Matthew said, shaking his head. “Will you excuse me? I should attend to Mister Weston.”

“Of course, goodnight Matthew,” he said. With a short nod the younger man left.

Will waited another thirty minutes before opening his door and checking if the hallway was clear. He could hear voices in the guest room but the words were indistinguishable. Samuel often stayed up much later than the rest of the house, citing the time difference. Will paused before moving to Hannibal’s door. He had only just cracked it open when the door to the guestroom flung open and Matthew stormed out before slamming it behind him. 

He met Will’s eyes, his face flushed and eyes red, hand shaking violently. He looked at the slightly opened door and then back to Will’s face, his mouth harsh with anger. He opened his mouth to speak then sneered instead. “You wouldn’t listen anyway,” he snapped before stalking off towards the servant rooms. Will looked after him for a minute before the door he was holding opened further.

“Will?” Hannibal was there barechested and his eyes glowing in the low light. He still took Will’s breath away. “Are you alright, love?” He asked softly, tugging Will into the bedroom and closing the door firmly.

“Matthew knows,” he said. Hannibal did not look pleased but he shrugged. 

“It hardly matters if his suspicions have been confirmed,” he said, running a hand through Will’s curls. “You seem overly concerned,” he observed.

“He’s been behaving strangely that’s all,” Will answered, distracted by Hannibal’s hand petting his hair.

“Has he upset you again?” Hannibal asked, resting a hand on Will’s shoulder, his fierce protectiveness even more distracting than his soft sweet touches.

“No, it's not that,” Will said. “You said he attended Samuel before?”

“Matthew was hired based on his glowing review. I know he considered taking him on permanently once he and Gabi left for the colonies, but it did not happen,” Hannibal said.

“No idea why?” Will pressed.

“I did ask if there was some falling out but never a clear answer,” Hannibal responded, his long fingers still moving through Will’s curls. Will stepped forward and kissed him, the niggling worry in the back of his mind instantly quieting. “I could press further if it is troubling you,” he offered.

“It’s not my business,” Will said, shaking his head. “Let them have their secrets.”

“A very healthy point of view, my darling, I have no interest in gossip,” he purred, sliding a hand into Will’s robe. “Not when there are so many better uses for your pretty mouth.”

“Such as?” Will teased, pressing his body against Hannibal’s. 

Hannibal smiled and wrapped an arm around him. “I’d like to hear you sing, see if your voice is still as sweet when raised in song rather than in pleasure.”

“It’s really not,” Will answered with a laugh. 

“I would rather judge it myself,” Hannibal said, smiling at him warmly. “Perhaps you would allow me to provide you with some tutorage, as I did with your dance skills,” Will shook his head again. “I suppose it would be rude to wake up the whole house,” Hannibal admitted, pulling Will past the bed to sit on the low couch, pressed up against him. 

He encouraged Will to lay back, dropping light kisses over his face, a hand on his chest but not wandering from its position over his heart. “That’s a better use,” Will said.

“For my mouth, not yours,” Hannibal said, enjoying Will’s slightly breathless voice but determined to play. “Are you willing to let me paint you without complaint yet?” He asked.

Will chuckled and wrapped his legs around Hannibal’s waist. “Nope,” he responded, dragging Hannibal’s lips to his and pouting when Hannibal refused to kiss his lips, instead softly trailing his lips along his cheek bones. He was about to protest further when he was handed a leather bound book. He looked at the cover, it was a poetry collection. “What’s this?” He asked.

“I like your voice,” Hannibal said sweetly, a hand stroking Will’s outer thigh, more comfortable than sexual. “Read to me?”

“Really?” Will asked.

“Please?” Hannibal asked, touching a book marked page. Will opened up the book and Hannibal shuffled down his body and opened his robe, pressing a kiss to his pulse before resting his head on Will’s chest listening to his heart beat as Will read.

“Those hours, that with gentle work did frame,

The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,

Will play the tyrants to the very same

And that unfair which fairly doth excel;

For never-resting time leads summer on

To hideous winter, and confounds him there;

Sap checked with frost, and lusty leaves quite gone,

Beauty o'er-snowed and bareness every where:

Then were not summer's distillation left,

A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,

Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,

Nor it, nor no remembrance what it was:

But flowers distilled, though they with winter meet,

Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.”

“Even when the winter flowers wither and die the scent remains, as sweet as ever,” Hannibal said. “Like a precious memory.”

Will stroked a hand through his hair, warm and content with Hannibal’s solid body resting on his. “You make it hard sometimes,” he admitted, no accusation in his voice. 

Hannibal looked up at him with soft eyes that Will only saw when they were alone together. “What is hard, my love?” He asked, understanding that Will was not talking about the swelling between his legs. 

“Sometimes it’s so hard to not fall in love with you,” Will said, entwining his fingers with Hannibal’s.

“I was unaware you were trying to avoid it,” Hannibal said, kissing Will’s knuckles gently. “I have not been trying at all.”

“So it’s easy for you?” Will said, somewhat hurt by the knowledge that it was easy for Hannibal to enjoy this without fear of having his heart broken.

“It was easier than I expected, falling in love with you,” Hannibal said, shifting so he was face to face with Will. “I never said our relationship could not involve feelings,” Hannibal said. “The tender feelings I have for you were a welcome surprise.”

“But Mischa?”

“Whatever I feel for you and your feelings for me, this is temporary,” Hannibal admitted, his smile dimming a little. “But can we not enjoy being together for the time we have?”

“I’ve never felt like this before, never been in love,” Will said. “It will hurt, being parted from you.”

“It will hurt us both, but life is often painful. I would rather take the moments of happiness that I can,” Hannibal reasoned. “But I will let you distance yourself if you wish, or end things entirely.”  

“I don’t want that,” Will said immediately. “But what happens when it ends?”

“We will have sweet memories and you will love again,” Hannibal assured him. Hannibal most likely wouldn’t.

“Have you been in love before?” Will asked.

“Only once,” Hannibal answered. “I would have loved her no matter what but if she ever loved me then it was not as deeply. When I sinned, her love turned to ash.”

“No matter what?” Will said, almost in wonderment. 

“Yes,” Hannibal said. “I told you I have no desire to tie myself to one person but that does not mean I am incapable of loving another and caring for them more than I do myself.”

“What was your sin?” Will asked. Hannibal was silent for several tense seconds. He pressed a tender, loving kiss to Will’s lips before speaking.

“No more talk of past pain. Tonight, I only love you,” Hannibal said, caressing Will’s lips with his fingertips. “Do you love me?”

“I…” Will sighed in irritation with himself. “I am afraid to say it but…” he nodded again.

“Then show me?” He suggested. Will smiled easily and kissed Hannibal, stroking the bare skin of his back, marvelling at the warmth that always seemed to radiate from his body. 

A glorious light bloomed in his chest as he lost himself in his intense, unfamiliar feelings and Hannibal’s adoration, an adoration he would never believe he deserved. “I want to be inside you, tonight.” 

Hannibal smiled and stood, displaying himself proudly as he stripped off his remaining clothes. “I want that too,” he said, leaning over to kiss Will deeply. When he straightened up, Will followed him smoothly. They moved to the bed together, bodies pressed in tightly as they kissed. Will usually crawled back to own bed just before dawn and they had hours left, just for the two of them. Will rolled on top of Hannibal, a quick flicker of nerves showing on his face. “Will?” 

Will drew back a little, drawing his lower lip into his mouth. “I want to make you feel good.” 

Hannibal nodded and smoothed out the lines on Will’s brow. “You always do, precious boy.”

Will moved a hand down over Hannibal’s chest, lazily palming Hannibal’s dick, the soft stimulation already making him hard. Hannibal stroked Will’s shoulders and forearms, his touch reverent and loving. He brushed his thumbs over Will’s nipple, pleased with how it hardened as he continued to grope at Will’s chest. Will moaned and finally wrapped his fingers around Hannibal’s length, smearing a fat drop of precum over the head and using it to smooth his way. “I love how wet you get,” he moaned against Hannibal’s lips. 

He shuffled down Hannibal’s body, leaving kisses all the way down unless he was settled between Hannibal’s legs, face to face with his proud erection. He spread Hannibal’s legs further apart and sank his mouth onto Hannibal’s length. Hannibal’s back arched off the bed and he let out a surprised moan as Will smoothly took his entire length into his mouth, throat flexing around his shaft as Will looked up at him with those bewitching eyes. He swallowed a few times and hollowed out his cheeks, drawing back as slowly as possible before releasing him with a wet pop and a playful smirk.

He pushed Hannibal’s knees up, exposing his pink hole. “I don’t bottom often,” Hannibal told him. “Be gentle with me?” he said with his own teasing smile.

“As gentle as you are with me,” Will replied with a wink.

“Lucky I am not fragile,” Hannibal said. Will shared his smile, bowing his head and pressing a soft kiss to his hole.

He settled into a more comfortable position and blew cool air over the opening, watching the muscles flutter in response. He attached his lips to the hole, imitating a kiss as he thrust his tongue inside. He fucked Hannibal with the wet appendage, licking his inner walls as drool leaked onto the surrounding skin. His finger caught the excess spit and smeared it around the sensitive skin surrounding the hole, making Hannibal moan and shift below him. Will grabbed his hips and held him in place as he lapped at the hole, tongue flicking at the edges.

He lazily moved up Hannibal’s body, leaving soft kisses along and kissing him deeply once they were face to face. He found the scented oil in Hannibal’s bedside cabinet, no matter how much they used, by the next evening it was more than half full. “Roll over, my love,” Will said, stomach swooping when he heard the word love in his own voice. The nasty little voice that reminded him that this wasn’t forever was finally silent. Tonight, their love was forever. No-one else had ever or would ever touch either on them. There was no past and no future.

Hannibal did so and stretched out on his stomach, reaching for his ass and spreading the cheeks apart for Will. Will dripped oil onto the hole and smeared more over his fingers. He caressed the skin surrounding Hannibal’s tight hole before wiggeling one inside and moaning at the way his body tightened around him, flexing around the digit. He brushed Hannibal’s prostate and squeezed a cheek with his free hand as Hannibal raised his ass eager for more. Will’s free hand gently fondeled Hannibal’s heavy balls as Will added a second finger, pushing in deeper and fucking Hannibal more firmly. He did not hurry, as eager as he was to bury his dick in Hannibal’s body he was enjoying lavishing his lover with pleasure, every sigh and moan wrapping around the base of his dick and making his heart beat faster.

“Stop,” Hannibal gasped, whining softly when Will carefully removed his fingers.

“What is it love?” Will asked, carding a hand through Hannibal’s hair. 

“I want to cum with you inside me,” Hannibal answered, looking over his shoulder, face flushed with pleasure. WIll moved so Hannibal could turn around and embrace him, holding Will close, waiting until his breathing evened out. He kissed Will deeply and laid back on the bed, hips tilted upwards and hole open and ready. “I’m ready my darling boy.”

Despite his earlier words, Will was gentle when he entered Hannibal. Hannibal was tight but unresistant and Will slid in slowly, making sure Hannibal felt every inch as he was gradually stretched wider, his body moulding around Will as he filled his passage. “You feel amazing,” he purred against Hannibal’s lips once he was fully buried inside him.

“You are perfect,” Hannibal responded, body already alight with pleasure. “Move, precious one,” he pleaded, eyes hazy with pleasure.

Will kissed Hannibal deeply as he withdrew back so only the tip was still encased in Hannibal’s body. He thrust back in less gently, clutching Hannibal as his back arched off the bed. Hannibal’s hands travelled to Will’s back, massaging the strong muscles as they rippled under his slick skin. Even when he allowed a man inside he took control, riding them how he wanted it, bending them to his wants, unashamedly using them though they always left more than satisfied. Will left him relaxed and open, safe in knowledge that dear Will could only provide him with untold pleasure. 

Will was lost in Hannibal, moving on instinct, jubilant just to be in Hannibal’s strong arms, where he belonged. He covered Hannibal’s neck with soft kisses, moving lower so he could leave his mark. He sucked on the skin above his nipple, marking the skin with his lips and tongue but keeping his teeth back, soft and gentle with his mouth while he drove into Hannibal roughly. He wrapped a hand around Hannibal’s glistening length, jerking him off as he kissed him tenderly.

Each breathless kiss was filled with love and after Hannibal came he was shaking for a full minute afterwards. Will paused his movement to watch him fall apart. When Hannibal’s eyes blinked open he began to move again. He smoothly moved his hips, jostling Hannibal’s limp body as he moaned softly, holding Will’s hand in his. 

Will whispered Hannibal’s name into his neck as he came, wrapping Hannibal in an embrace and resting his head on his racing heart. Hannibal pulled the blanket up over them and held Will to him, pouting when he slipped free. They were both sticky and coated in sweat but Will's grip was tight, needing to stay in Hannibal’s arms a while longer. “I adore you,” Hannibal said, laying his cheek on Will’s soft curls.

“It was good for you too?” Will asked, his voice small.

“Of course, gorgeous,” Hannibal said with a soft laugh. “Are you feeling insecure?” He asked in bemusement.

“A little,” Will admitted, ducking his lower in embarrassment. “I’m inexperienced in that position but I wanted to do that with you,” he said.

“Why?” Hannibal asked.

“I’m very inexperienced, as in I’ve never done that before,” he clarified.

“Never?” Hannibal said, tilted Will’s face upwards so he could see his eyes. Will shook his head. “Something special for just us two,” Will smiled, pleased with Hannibal’s understanding. For all their secrets, Hannibal made him feel seen, accepted and loved. “Thank you, my dearest.”

“I love you, Hannibal.”

“I love you, Will.”

Will kissed him softly and left the bed, wetting a cloth in the washbasin and cleaning Hannibal’s body with the same care and tenderness he had received. Once free of leaking seed Hannibal took the fabric and cleaned his release from Will’s stomach, kissing the clean, chilled skin. 

Will slipped into sleep in Hannibal arms, contended and smiling.

Outside the room there was little happiness in the house.

**********

Samuel was exhausted by the time Matthew arrived in his room. He had been working all day and knowing it would all be worth it did not make it any easier. He did not have the energy to argue with his former lover.

He thought that some deity was feeling kind when Matthew was the picture of professionalism. Friendly and warm as he always was but never crossing the line. He had accepted Samuel’s rejection it seemed. Perhaps there was something happening with this Will he was so fond of. He hoped so, while his feelings for Matthew had never completely left him, he was committed to never touch him again. But he did wish him happiness.

His mind had wandered so much as almost yelled when Matthew forced a hand into the front of his small clothes, smothering any sound with his lips. After so many sordid secret nights together Matthew knew exactly how he liked to be touched and he could not help letting out a soft moan against his lips. “I love you Samuel, it’s still you,” Matthew whispered against Samuel’s ear. “Tell me you love me still.”

“No!” Samuel bit out, shoving him away and grabbing a robe to cover himself. “I told you, this, us, is over,” he spat.

Matthew threw himself at Samuel, trying to drag him into a kiss. Samuel’s strength and height let him fight off the other man’s advances but Matthew settled for kissing anywhere he could reach, like a starving man in need of nourishment. “I won’t do what you did, my love, I will not walk away. You still want me, I know it. I know you.”

Samuel gripped Matthew’s shoulders and pushed him against the wall, bodies close together. “Is that what you want Matthew, for me to admit I still want you?” He asked, voice soft but heavy with disdain. “Fine, you are still as handsome as ever and if anything I imagine your oral skills have only improved. But there are a hundred other men who can sink to their knees as easily as you and you are not so pretty that no other can compare. Count Lecter, Mister Graham, even the young footmen Louis has grown into his awkward long limbs and become a comely young man. You are nothing special to me, just an attractive body. So yes, I do want you. But no more than any other handsome face.”

Matthew was in shock. The man he had loved was always kind, big-hearted and gentle and Matthew would have once sworn he had not a cruel bone in his body but his spiteful words and cold tone brought tears to his eyes. He swallowed down a sob and Samuel’s grip on his arms tightened to the point of pain for a few seconds before he stepped back. “You are trying to hurt me,” he accused quietly. 

“I am being truthful,” Samuel stated. “If you do not like it, I suggest you leave.”

“You cannot drive me away,” Matthew stated boldly.

“You are a fool, then,” Samuel snarled. “I do not want you, not anymore. You were a diversion, a youthful experiment. If you still refuse to accept that then you bring this pain upon yourself.”

“You promised that you loved me,” Matthew reminded him. “Every night for months you pledged your heart to me. Does the Lady Weston know of those nights?”

“Do not speak of her,” Samuel warned, his protectiveness of her making him dangerous.

“Do you say the same sweet words to her?” Matthew pushed. “Will you visit her tonight and promise her there will never be another, that her name alone is carved upon your heart?”

“I am surprised you are so immature to have been pining over me for so long. What did you expect of our future? That I would never marry and remain loyal to a servant? Not even a valet but a surplus footman on loan,” he stepped forward and placed a hand on Matthew’s cheek, looking at him not with kindness but humiliating pity. “You are a child, living in a world of make believe. There is no future for us. Grow up.”

Matthew looked to the ground and gathered himself. “If there is nothing else Mister Weston?”

“Nothing at all,” he said coolly. 

“Then I will leave you with only one word,” Samuel tilted his head with an expression of bored curiosity. Matthew met his beautiful hazel eyes, holding his gaze without a flicker of hesitation. “Coward.”

With that he strode from the room, slamming the door behind him and fighting back tears. Will Graham was already slipping into the Count’s chamber, ready to be deceived by a nobleman’s lies as Matthew had been. He had tried to warn him but Will wanted the fantasy, he was what Samuel had called him, a naive child caught up in a beautiful dream, built on a foundation of dust. His romance would crumble to ash and he would feel as Matthew did now.

He made his way to his own spartan chambers, tearing off his clothes and clawing at his chest. It felt like his heart was tearing apart, full of sharp blades and his chest tight and constricting. Tears finally fell from his eyes, hot and stringing on his cheeks. Samuel had loved him, he knew that in his very soul. But everything he said was true. They had no future. Even a self-made second son was too far out of his reach. If the world they lived in was even a little bit better… but it wasn’t.

He refused to be driven from this house by a coward who chose to deny he ever felt anything real. He would stay in this house, driven by stubbornness and the hope that his mere presence may sour Samuel’s seemingly perfect marriage for as long as he was here. 

In his better moments he would convince himself that he was staying so he could ease Will’s pain when Hannibal destroyed him.

**********

Matthew threw himself onto his bed as soon as the door slammed shut. He did not take delight in cruelty, or in lies. What he and Matthew had was something special and he had loved him deeply and had pushed away the knowledge that it could never be forever for as long as he could. Lying to him was painful for them both but were he to admit the truth then Matthew would continue his pursuits and rejecting him over and over hurt even more. He was not a coward but a realist, they had no future, especially not now he had found a woman he did truly love. Such a woman he would not have ever believed existed.

Sleep did not come easy that night and his mind took him back to the night he chose Gabrielle, and in doing so, chose to forsake all others. Even the man who had touched his heart in a way no other had.

**********

Samuel stood on the terrace, away from the noise of the party and opened the small box in his hands yet again. It was a beautiful ring, the golden band consisting of a delicate pattern and at the centre a gleaming sapphire surrounded by a circle of diamonds. As beautiful as the lady it was intended for and finer than any heirloom he possessed

“You seem nervous,” a voice observed from behind.

He jumped and wheeled around, smiling in relief when he saw Count Hannibal Lecter. “Yes, very much so,” he admitted. “Do you think she will say yes?”

“I believe she loves you very much,” Hannibal said. “But Gabrielle will not say yes if you do not ask,” he reminded him. “Preferably before another suitable man makes his move.”

“I do not have her parents’ blessing,” he said quietly.

“Unfortunete, but as they are still in France I think that can be forgiven,” Hannibal said. “If it means anything you have mine.”

“Thank you,” Samuel said. Hannibal intimidated many and while his approval was not required it did instill him with confidence. 

“A blessing I will withdraw if you continue to be so cowardly,” he said with a touch of amusement. Go,”

Samuel steeled himself and returned to the ballroom, spotting Gabrielle by the refreshment table, glowing in a soft rose coloured dress, her chocolate curls framing her sweet face. The most beautiful lady in the room and indeed in most rooms. He took the opportunity to approach when she was not attended by a gaggle of admirers and joined her at the table. “Gabrielle, there is a rather stunning painting of the french countryside in an adjoining room. Would you care to see it?” He asked, tripping over his words more than he would like.

“Very much, Samuel,” she answered, taking his arm with a charming smile. After two months of dances and promenades and visits they were on a first name basis, surely she must know why he was seeking out a more private space. Ideally he would ask her in the gardens, far away from the eyes that watched them make their way across the room but decorum had to be followed.

In the small room of paintings they were alone but could easily be spied through the open archway separating them from the main ballroom. “Gabrielle, I have been eager to speak to you privately, or more accurately to ask you something.”

“Samuel…”

“Please, let me speak my piece,” he begged. “I am only a second son and even after a great many successful investments, marriage was not at the forefront of my mind. I thought I would only marry if I met an exceptional woman, one I could speak honestly with and trust to speak honestly to me in return. You are not only beautiful and accomplished but in the time we have known each other I have come to see you as a treasured friend and I love you. I believe that we would be happy together,” he retrieved the small box from his pocket and revealed the expensive ring to her. “Will you marry me?”

“Samuel,” she was flustered for a moment, gathering her words. “You are my closest friend, and I would never dream of not being honest with you. I love you dearly as my friend but I cannot marry you,” she said, turning her face away and wiping a finger below her eye, her fingers coming away damp. 

“I do not understand,” he said quietly.

“Please, just believe me that I could not force you into a life with me, I cannot marry you and I will not marry any man,” she said firmly, or tried to through her voice trembled slightly.

Samuel guided her to a low couch where they were slightly more hidden. “You say you will be honest with me, I will not ask you again but please tell me why you wish to spend your life alone.”

“I do not wish that,” she answered. “But I cannot marry a man I care for or enter a marriage in which I feel nothing for the gentleman in question,” she sighed and pressed a hand to her forehead. “Can I trust your discretion?”

“Always.”

“I assume as a man you are aware of how a woman comes to be with child? The physical action, I mean,” she said, eyes flicking to the door and her voice quiet.

“Yes,” he said, face colouring. 

She gave a small smile. “Do not be afraid, I will not ask you to explain it to me. My Mother bid our housekeeper explain as soon as I bled. It is a perfectly natural action between a man and a wife,” she ducked her head and swallowed before facing him again. “It disgusts me, even her explanation made me physically sick. What most women fantasise about and look forward to makes my stomach heave. Even the thought of… touching myself in the manner… I hate the idea of it all. I will never engage in the activity of my own free will, and so I will never have a child and any man I marry would never be satisfied. So you must understand that it is because I care for you that I cannot accept your proposal,” he digested her words and placed a hand over hers.

“Can I trust your discretion?” He asked, voice no more than a whisper.

“Of course,” she answered.

“I warn you, my secret is more dangerous than yours,” he warned.

“I will keep your secrets as you keep mine,” she promised. “We are friends.”

“Yes, when I say I love you it is as a friend,” he said. “I have a brother and a great many relatives who I could name as an heir, if I did not have one of my own. I do not long for a child of my own blood, I believe love does not require that tie. The man who raised me was a greater care giver than my real father and my brother and I both love him more than our actual father because he gave and earned that love.”

“But even if you do not consider yourself in need of an heir then surely you would wish to consummate your marriage,” she still spoke in hypotheticals but he persisted.

“I would only marry an exceptional woman because I have never desired a wedding night with a woman,” he said carefully.

It took her a moment to realise what he meant and her face flushed as pink as her dress, she almost smiled before speaking again. “So you seek a… lavender marriage, I believe it is called? We marry and in exchange for that security I pretend not to notice the occasions where you come home in the early hours.”

“No, Gabrielle, I will be loyal to you as a husband should be. We would be like any other couple except for at night time,” he explained. “I would have gone through with it for you but it would be a duty, not a desire. If you can accept my perversion, which I will not act upon again then I see no reason why we should not marry.”

“I do not judge you. Ours would be an odd sort of union,” she said thoughtfully.

“No odder than the many couples who do not choose each other,” he answered. “We love each other and want the same things, things that would prevent us from a happy union with others. I have not considered the idea of fate but it seems we have found something quite unique.”

“You truly do not wish to visit Molly houses or such things?” She asked. “I mean it when I say I do not judge but do not speak of honesty if you do not mean it.”

“I do not,” he said with certainty. “I wish for a partnership with someone I can be happy with. I hope that person is you. I have never spoken more freely than I have this evening. Have you?”

“No. I never intended to speak my feelings out loud,” she admitted. “I do not mean you cannot hold me, kiss me, dance with me. I can feel love, just not in that way.”

“I can feel love for you, just not carnal desire,” he said. “So, will you marry me?”

“Your valet?” She prompted, so perceptive.

“We have no hope of a happy ending. When I return to America, our arrangement must end,” he admitted regretfully. “Come with me, as my wife, please?” He opened the box again and saw her take in the ring with more consideration. Her fingers gently brushed the metal as she considered his words. 

“Perhaps it is fate that we have found each other, against all odds,” she said. “To have found love with someone whose wants and needs are so closely aligned,” when she met his eyes again it was with a bright smile. “Yes, Samuel, I would be delighted to marry you!”

They embraced tightly, any witness would forgive a newly engaged couple that slip in manners. “May I kiss you?” He asked. She nodded and he pressed his lips to her. There was no desire or fire but it was sweet, soft and enjoyable. 

The start of a relationship that was theirs and existed outside of society's expectations, a true partnership based on friendship and love. All things considered they were luckier than most.

**********

Samuel had never regretted his decision and had never wished to stray, Gabrielle’s love had always been enough for him.

Together they had escaped judgement and if he must be seen as a coward then so be it. All he needed was his lady wife and would do anything for her happiness. It was that happiness he hoped to secure on this trip.

There was only one more piece of paperwork to sign.

Chapter Text

Will slipped back into his own room moments before dawn. His hair was even more messy than usual while his chest covered in teeth marks and faint bruises decorated his ass, but he was grinning like the lovestruck fool he was. He was more than ready to fall into bed for just a couple more hours of much needed sleep. 

“You’re getting sloppy,” he jumped and turned to see a figure slumped on his sofa. He recognised the voice and could see Matthew sprawled out over the low seat. His clothes were dishevelled, eyes red and face flushed. He drained a bottle of liquor and it dropped to the floor with a thud. “Huh, thought it would smash,” he said in disappointment. “You look so happy,” he spat bitterly.

“You’re drunk,” Will said. “And upset.”

“Yes I am but that’s not why I’m here,” Matthew said, he managed to keep from slurring his words but it was clear the effort it took, how carefully he was speaking. “Please, please listen to me, Will. Just this once you need to hear me,” he took a couple of shaky steps towards him, staring at his exposed chest. Will belatedly wrapped his robe more tightly around himself. “Do you love him?” Matthew asked.

“This isn’t appropriate,” Will said. “Go back to your room. I’ll tell Francis you’re sick or something, have you even slept at all?”

“No and no, I am trying to help you, but you won’t let me,” he whined in frustration, growing louder. 

“Matthew please, be quiet,” he said, glancing towards. 

“Because it’s not proper? Not proper for me to be in one of the main bedrooms while you are slipping into his room every night and barely even trying to hide it. Only proper for me to be in his room when he’s fucking me and now he has his lady wife I’m not even worth looking at!” He snarled, thankfully slightly more quiet.

“I know you’re upset, I guess it’s about Mister Weston and we can talk once you’ve calmed down, alright?” Will tried to soothe him.

“My Sammy,” he whispered brokenly. “I loved him, like you love your Count. It didn’t matter that we weren’t socially equal or that we had to be a secret because he loved me too. He promised me his heart, swore to me that we would find a way to be together,” he cried.

“I’m sorry that he hurt you-”

“You don’t need to be sorry, you need to listen because yes it hurts, it hurts like hell. It hurt when he left and when he came back and it hurts every time he turns me away. He gets to move on with his lady love but I can’t and you need to listen because he’s going to do it to you!” He grabbed Will’s hands, eyes wild.

“Matthew you are not making sense,” Will said, breaking his hold on him. “You need to go to bed.”

“Stop telling me to go to bed!” Matthew snapped. “He tells you he loves you, doesn’t he? That even though he cannot publicly court you, you are in his heart. He touches you like you are precious and kisses you when you cum,” he said, as if he had been in the room with them. “He’s so charming and handsome and tender, how could you not believe him and you love him back, don’t you? Answer me Will. Do you love him?”

“This is not your business,” Will hissed. “Leave, I am capable of dressing myself thank you.”

“Of course you can dress yourself, you have eyes and working body parts,” he spat. “But you can’t see him.”

“I don’t know what happened between you and Mister Weston but this is not the same,” Will insisted.

“Because you are not a servant?” He sneered. “Does he tell you that you are his equal, because he lets you choose your own accessories occasionally? A lie. They are the same, these rich lords, they live in a world where they can have anything they want and that includes those they see as below them. Servants and pretty men they find on the street,” he said, raising his head definitely. “Is that where he found you? Or did he pick you out at a molly house?”

“Be very careful, Matthew,” Will said smoothly. He would not let Matthew treat him like a whore or taint their relationship, he had chosen to trust Hannibal and Matthew could not change that. He was no longer a whore and if Hannibal truly loved him as he said then he would forgive Will his sins and he would never be forced to feed himself that way again. 

“You don’t know him, the things he has done,” Matthew whispered. “What he is capable of, he is dangerous, evil!

“As if you have even the slightest idea what either of us are capable of,” Will muttered to himself. “I know him better than I know you, and you will not ruin that with broaches or rumors,” Will responded coldly. “No denial?”

Matthew’s face coloured. “They are not rumors but yes the broach was an advance. You can reject me if you wish but please believe that I am trying to be a friend to you here. Let me tell you my story and you will see it is the same as yours. I deserve to say my piece, or have you become too good for me already?”

“Sit, I will listen,” Will relented. Matthew sank on to the sofa and Will filled a glass from the water jug that rested on his bedside table. “At least drink some water please,” Will said, handing it to Matthew.

He took a seat on one of the chairs, keeping physical distance between them. He could pick up on Matthew’s desperation and heartache and believed him when he said he wanted to help Will, spare him that same heartbreak. He was wrong about Hannibal but he let him speak, listening to his story, the sympathy belonging to him alone.

“Count Lecter is very close to Francis, not in the same way you think he is with you but closer than most nobility are to their servants. He was reluctant to share him when Sammy was invited to stay here. The Weston family do have a country estate, not far from the Lecter’s family but he spent most seasons overseas. Lady Weston had stayed in this house several times, as a child the former lord doted upon her and hoped she might be a good match for Count Lecter,” Matthew explained. “He had no interest in her but she and the young lady Mischa became close so she stayed at their estate out of season. It was a country ball where she met him, Sam. The next season they started courting.”

“Were you serving him then?” Will asked.

“After they met at the ball, danced together twice, Count Lecter extended him an invitation to stay here,” Matthew said. “He was very supportive of their relationship even though she could aim higher. You think he is so very clever but he didn’t realise Matthew wasn’t inclined towards the fairer sex. The future Lady Weston’s ladies maid recommended me and we connected instantly,” his voice was wistful and he couldn’t stop a small smile.

“By connected you mean?”

“We were friendly at first, he was different, a self-made man, he never looked down on me,” Matthew said. “Eventually it became more intimate, we stayed up late talking. He told me all about his work in America and I told him about my Dad’s farm in Cornwall. Somehow we grew closer physically and one night we were sitting close together,” he paused, stroking the soft fabric of the sofa. “It happened right on this sofa. It had been a long day and my eyes were heavy, long lizard blinks. I felt his lips on mine, he was so warm and soft but there wasn’t even the faintest trace of alcohol, just lemonade from an early ball. I didn’t have time to react before he pulled back. My eyes opened and he looked terrified and I didn’t have any idea what to say. I’m lowborn, one of the perks is more freedom, I’d kissed maids and other footmen but it was so different with him, indescribable.” 

Will nodded, he was familiar with the feeling. “It feels like you’re flying, butterflies dancing in your stomach but in your heart as well. You don’t know how you’ve survived so long without kissing him every single day.”

“Exactly. As soon as he wasn’t touching me I felt cold inside and I needed to kiss him again,” Matthew said, lost in his memories. “He was already pulling away, turning his face from me and mumbling some sort of apology, he claimed to have been drinking. I took his face in my hands and made him face me, he fell silent and I kissed him. I was tingling all over but I was afraid to stop in case he really didn’t want it, that it had been a drunken mistake. But he didn’t, he kissed me back and it was wonderful,” he said, laying back across the sofa and staring at the ceiling. “I was on my back by the time we parted, still fully dressed. Sammy was always a gentleman,” he laughed. “My heart was full and I knew it was more than physical but I didn’t know how to say it, didn’t know how to speak.”

“He didn’t feel the same?” Will asked.

“Yes he did,” Matthew said with certainty. “I know it, at least I thought I did. He spoke first, told me how he had become very attached to me, had wanted to kiss me for a while, and now he regretted waiting for so long. He didn’t say love but no-one looked at me the way he did. We both knew it had to be a secret but we spent every night after that kissing into the early hours till our lips were swollen, hands slipping under shirts, the occasional brush of hands lower. We both wanted more but it was scary to take that next step. Any further and it's a hanging offence,” Matthew scoffed bitterly. “He was braver than I. You're surprised?” He said, noticing Will’s face.

“You seem pretty brave to me,” Will admitted. 

“All because of him,” Matthew said. He laughed for almost a full minute, a genuine laugh. “I didn't just love him, I loved him so fucking much and I still do. He made me a better person, someone who could be loved, without hiding any part of myself. We made love, when I say that I truly mean it, it was love. He touched me and… that was all I could say. “I love you,” over and over again. He said it back, looking into my eyes the whole time.”

“So what went wrong?” Will asked. Matthew's head was tilted back and his words were slurred. The water hadn't helped but at least he'd stopped lunging at Will.

Tears filled his eyes. “I wish I knew,” he replied, brokenly. “He made me brave, brave enough to ask what would happen when he had to go back overseas, to his business. He promised that he would take me with him, as his permanent valet and personal assistant. I'd do everything she does for him. Organise his calendar and staff, make him look good in front of contacts, my job would be to make his life easier. I would make him a good wife.”

“You can't give him an heir,” Will ventured. 

“She hasn't either,” Matthew snarled. “He wouldn't have let her make the journey if she was with child! He told me he didn't care about an heir, my heart was enough for him. All I know is he promised me we'd be together and then he proposed to her. I tried to understand, keeping up appearances matters in this world. I still thought that he would take me with him and that she was better than I thought, more accepting. He never told me what I did.”

“I don't think you did anything,” Will said.

“It took me a while to figure that out,” Matthew said. His face crumpled and he dissolved into tears. “It… still… hurts,” he gasped in between sobs.

Will's heart broke for him and against his better judgement he joined Matthew on the sofa, wrapping his arms around him and letting him cry onto his shoulder. The occasional word was audible but it was mostly bitter sobs and muffled wails. Finally he cried himself out, leaning against Will in exhaustion. “He never loved me,” he said miserably. “It was just fun for him to pretend and when he was done he moved on and left me behind.”

“It's not the same, Matthew, he hasn't ever promised me forever and he won't. I know this is temporary,” Will told him. 

Matthew tenderly touched the skin above Will’s heart. “Everytime you think that, temporary, it feels like your heart is being skewered, every time, another sword is driven inside you. Staying it aloud, it tastes like ash, burns like acid on the way out. You know you can't have forever but you want it so much. Even if he can't bring himself to say it yet, you know he wants it too, wants you to be his.”

Will shook his head. “I know when it ends.”

Matthew grabbed his wrist, red eyes wide. “You know he doesn't love you, it's pretend, every touch and kiss and tender touch. It feels so real but it isn't, he insisted, squeezing Will’s wrist painfully tight.

Will stood, tearing his wrist from Matthew’s grip and turning his back to him. Matthew jumped to his feet and wrapped his arms around Will trapping his arms at his side. “Leave him, before he destroys you,” he pleaded, desperately kissing Will’s neck as he tried to squirm away.

“Stop this,” he ordered sharply, turning so he could see Matthew and jerking his head away when Matthew tried to kiss him.

“You're so loyal to him but he could already be courting his bride. He won't even say goodbye,” Matthew's voice was climbing and his words ran together. “There's nothing here for us, let's leave, just the two of us.”

“There is no us!” Will almost shouted. Matthew would not be chased away and pushed Will against the wall.

“There can be,” he said. “I can make you happy, I can give you real love. But we need to get away from them, together!” He pressed his lips to Will’s, forcing his tongue past his lips, the stink of cheap booze on his breath. He ripped open Will’s robe and grabbed his cock. Will felt sick, physical nausea followed by white hot rage that burned in his veins.

He shoved Matthew violently away and punched him in the face, knocking him to the ground. “DON'T YOU EVER FUCKING TOUCH ME AGAIN!” He yelled.

Matthew was moaning his name, flat on his back and weeping. Will heard knocking at his door and Francis's voice, still love but louder than he'd heard it. “Mister Graham? Is everything alright?” 

Will opened the door, still burning with fury. “Matthew is sick, can I help you take him back to his room?” he said, voice tight, cold but polite. Hannibal and Samuel's door were open, both woken by the bellow.

“Thank you, Mister Graham but I can take it from here,” Will stepped to the side and let him enter. With impressive strength, he dragged Matthew's arm over his shoulder and calmly dragged him back down the hallway towards the servant's rooms, his face dark.

“What on Earth is going on?” Samuel asked 

“Matthew has a taste for sweet wines,” Hannibal replied smoothly. “It seems he has over indulged. I apologise,” he crossed the hallway and took Will’s hand in his. For the first time, Will noticed that the skin on his knuckles had split and his hand was bloody. “I will clean your wound for you. Sarah,” the maid peeking into the hallway stepped fully into view and blushed. “Please bring up a basin of hot water and bandages.”

“Yes, m'lord,” she gratefully scurried away.

Hannibal guided him into his bedroom and shut the door behind them. Matthew was left alone, staring down the hallway, guilt niggling at his heart. Forever was an impossibility for them so he ran and chased an attainable, lesser kind of happiness. It was a selfish thing to do but he never meant to hurt Matthew so badly, he had loved him.

As soon as they were behind the closed door Hannibal pulled Will into an embrace. “Tell me what he did to you,” he said in a low voice. He was furious, but not at Will. 

“I'm fine, he was drunk and I stopped him,” Will’s voice was small and now that his rage had worn off he felt fragile and shaken. He clung to Hannibal’s robe. “It's okay, just fire him okay?” Will said. “Get another house to take him.”

“Are you concerned that if he was not employed he would try to return for you?” Hannibal said in concern.

“Or Samuel,” Will said quietly. “I'm not the one he wants, just a substitute,” he sniffed. “Would you ever promise me forever?” He asked.

“It would be a lie, however, if you want the words…”

“No, I don't want it,” Will said quickly, hiding his face in Hannibal’s chest. “I want you to be honest, we have a time limit. It's not the same, it’s not. I can trust you.”

“Yes, you can trust me. Sit down,” Hannibal said, guiding Will to the loveseat. “You need to tell me what he said and what he did,” he said seriously. “I don't like seeing you so upset, my darling.”

“I'm not upset.”

“Will you are fighting back tears,” Hannibal said. 

“My hand hurts,” Will said, looking at his bloodied hands. 

Hannibal took Will’s face in his hands and guided him to look at him. “I want you to be honest, dearest.”

“I don't know why I feel this way,” Will said, tears pricking behind his eyes.

Hannibal pulled him into an embrace and Will let himself cry. Not great, heaving, painful sobs like Matthew but silent tears that refused to stop falling. A knock came at the door and Will pulled away. “Go answer, I'm okay,” Will said.

Hannibal answered the door to find Sarah his requested items. “Thank you,” Hannibal said, speaking a little more gently than he had before. “Please ask Francis to do whatever he can to find Mister Brown employment in another house. I want him gone before breakfast tomorrow,” it was a tall order but Francis was a master at serving his master’s needs. Sarah nodded her understanding and went to relay his message along with some gossip she had come across.

The Featherington house had recently let a footman go and the Lord Featherington's valet, a cheeky and handsome young man, had quit when he was expected to act as valet and footman for no extra pay. The young maids in the house were devastated to lose his flirtatious smile and winks.

Francis hated gossip, but thanked her for the information. When Lord Featherington learned how much Matthew had been paid he accepted the bargain instantly. Matthew had passed out so Francis packed his bag. This would be the last night he spent at this house.

Will had pulled himself together by the time Hannibal returned to him. “Empathy is most likely a useful quality for a pickpocket and even more so for a rent boy,” Hannibal said, carefully cleaning the blood from his hand. “Do you often feel others's emotions as strongly as your own?”

“I try not to,” Will answered. “I can't always control it. It's hard, sometimes, to separate my own feelings from others.”

“Perhaps it is Matthew's tears that you are shedding,” Hannibal suggested, bandaging his knuckles. “Please tell me what happened, Will?”

Will met his gaze and nodded, he shuffled closer so he could lean against Hannibal’s chest with his strong arms wrapped around him. He told Hannibal everything and by the end he had a headache. His head felt fuzzy and thick. His own emotions, Matthew's and Hannibal's battling for dominance. 

“If he dares come near you again I will cut off his hands,” Hannibal said. “The law be damned.”

“I don't believe what he said about you and me,” Will said. “Truly I don't.”

“Come lay down, you look unwell,” Hannibal said, tucking Will into bed and laying next to him on top of the covers. “Matthew's conclusion was incorrect because his information was incorrect. Samuel adored him, it was not a game, it never was.”

“How do you know?” Will asked.

“I have learned to understand people over the years,” Hannibal said. “I knew what was going on between Samuel and Matthew a long time before it finished. I remember the night Samuel became engaged, after the party and the celebrations, it was a different story once we were alone. Will you keep this to yourself?” He checked. Will nodded, wanting to hear what had happened. “I offered him a nightcap, a chance to privately give my congratulations and my blessing. I had barely begun to speak when he dissolved in tears. He could not tell me why but clearly he was utterly heartbroken. Samuel had just become engaged to a truly spectacular woman, Gabi had turned down many proposals from titled men, kind men, rich men she could have her pick and she picked him. He should have been walking on air yet he was inconsolable. When he refused to answer my questions I put him to bed with a glass of water, Matthew was nowhere to be seen,” Hannibal explained. “The next morning he told me he was drunk and barely remembered anything after the carriage ride home but if he cried it must have been happiness. I tell a great many lies so I let him have his deceit.”

“You never let me lie to you,” Will said.

“Because I am in love with you,” Hannibal said, kissing his forehead. “If you are not truthful, how can I help you?” He asked. “I do like Samuel, but if he does not want my help then that is his choice. The awkwardness between he and Matthew in the aftermath made it clear what had him so upset. It appears it was Samuel who ended it, societal pressure may have gotten to him, or maybe he did fall in love with Gabi but it was not because he never loved Matthew,” Hannibal stroked his hair. “It is a lot to ask of someone, to live a life of secrecy forever. In reality they could not have the happiness they spoke of, not here and not overseas.”

“He still broke Matthew’s heart,” Will said. 

“Yes, and that is one of the reasons I have not cut off Matthew’s hand for daring to touch you,” Hannibal said. “It is a short list.”

A glimmer or pity for his broken heart and the threat of jail. He wanted to keep Will for a while longer and, no matter what, Hannibal could not abandon Mischa, even for the best of reasons.

“I feel sorry for him, but I still don’t want him here, making up stuff and trying to convince me you don’t love me,” Will said. 

“Making stuff up?” Hannibal prompted. “You believe he told you lies.”

“He was drunk and tried to tell me I didn’t know what you had done, what you were capable of,” Will took Hannibal’s hand in his. “He told me you were dangerous and evil.”

“You were not curious to hear more?” Hannibal asked. “I would not blame you.”

“He took a job in this house but hasn't said anything until now?” Will said. “No, I don’t care what lies he intended to tell me.”

“My dear boy,” Hannibal said softly, shuffling closer to kiss Will deeply. “There are rumours about me and I am glad you trust me over hearsay. However if you do hear anything that troubles you, from Matthew or from anyone else, talk to me. I will tell you the truth. Even if it means I lose you.”

“I don’t think there is anything that would stop me from loving you,” Will said. “Even if it is temporary.”

“His pain is understandable and I will not promise you anything I cannot provide,” Hannibal said. “But I will do everything in my power to ensure you never doubt that I do love you.”

“I love you too,” Will said, reaching for Hannibal and sliding a hand beneath his shirt. “You might be right about me absorbing his pain but I’m not sure that’s what had me feeling… fragile, yes I felt fragile. I hate that he touched me. I’ve been touched when I didn’t want it too many times and I had to accept it to get paid or stay safe but being in this house, being with you, I’ve got used to feeling safe and owning my own body again. He made me feel unsafe.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” Hannibal said. “Do you know what you need?”

“I need you to touch me, make me feel like I am yours, for at least a few more months,” Will pleaded. 

Hannibal rolled atop him, kissing him deeply and holding him tight as he shifted so he was under the covers with him. His ears picked up on something and he drew back. “Ten seconds, do not move,” he left the bed and opened the door. He had been right when he heard footsteps, now Louis was knocking on Samuel’s door. “Count Lecter,” he said, his voice even, he had been learning to imitate Franics, smart boy. “I was asked to offer Mister Weston my services as valet.”

“Unneeded thank you,” Samuel declared, opening his door. He had managed to dress himself but was having difficulty with his cufflinks. “Mostly, would you?” Louis smiled brightly and securely attached his cufflinks. “Thank you. I have an appointment in town and a few errands so I may not see you until dinner.” 

“Until then,” Hannibal said, nodding as Samuel left. “Louis, Mister Graham is not feeling well. I will watch over him, please make sure the staff know that we are not to be disturbed for any less than an emergency.”

“Yes Count Lecter,” Hannibal nodded but Louis spoke again. “Excuse me, Sir?”

“Yes?” He said impatiently.

“I understand Matthew had been fired for drinking,” he started.

“Amongst other things, please do not speak for him,” Hannibal warned.

“I won’t, my uncle is a trained valet, I assume you need another?” He ventured.

“Give his information to Mister Dolarhyde, he is responsible for finding a new valet. If his references are favourable then I have no objections,” Hannibal said. “Go.”

With a quick thank you, Louis made a quick exit and Hannibal returned to Will who was spread out on the bed, completely naked and looking like a fallen angel. “That was way more than ten seconds,” he said with an exaggerated pout. 

“So you undressed yourself.” Hannibal surmised. “But added a cravat?” He asked in confusion. It was not a full bow tie, just one loose knot.

“I know you like to undress me yourself but you took too long,” Will stated with a cheeky smile. “Now you only have one thing to remove.”

“Then I shall thank you for that consideration,” Hannibal said, crawling up the bed. 

“You know how much I love you,” Will said.

“I do,” Hannibal straddled Will’s body and tugged on the cherry coloured tie, it slid away easily and he let it fall to the floor. “Red is more my colour than yours,” he informed Will. 

He removed his own clothes, he had been half dressed when he had been called by Will’s yelling. His voice had been full of rage but tinged with fear and the need to be with him, save him, had surprised Hannibal. It didn’t take him long to be as naked as Will, bodies pressed together as they kissed hungrily.

His hand slid down Will’s sides and between his thighs, guided them to spread. “Show me where to touch you,” he urged gently. 

“Here,” Will said, stroking Hannibal’s lips, face twisting at the thought of someone else’s lips on his. Hannibal caressed Will’s lips with his fingertips before leaning in to softly kiss them, finishing with a playful lick.

“Where else?”

“Here,” he touched Hannibal’s hands gently and Hannibal wove their fingers together. He brought Will’s hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles gently. Will guided one hand down to his dick, already responding to Hannibal’s presence. “Touch me here,” he moaned softly. “Make me feel like I’m only yours.”

“You are mine,” Hannibal growled, wrapping his hand around Will’s shaft. “Never his, only mine.”

Temp-

The evil voice in Will’s mind was silenced when Hannibal’s lips landed on his, staking his claim and stealing his breath. “I know,” Will moaned. “I’m yours, now make me feel it,” he demanded, voice low. 

“As you wish,” Hannibal said with a bow of his head. His hand delved into Will’s bedside stand and drew out a bottle of slick oil.

“When did you-” his voice trailed off as he laughed.

“Your room gets the best morning light,” Hannibal explained. “I hoped to find an occasion to enjoy you bathed in the light of dawn,” he brushed a few curls from Will’s face which was bathed in the sunbeams streaming through the window. “And look at you know, more enchanting than I could have imagined. My sweet untouched angel.”

Will snorted. “Hardly untouched.”

“We both know I have reached part of you no-one else has,” Hannibal said. “Metaphorically speaking,” he added with a soft smile.

“Physically too,” Will responded. “You are rather well-endowened,” he said with a slight blush.

“I appreciate the compliment dearest but my ego needs no more stroking, not when there are much more interesting parts for you to explore,” Hannibal said, crossing his legs and lifting Will to sit in his lap.

Will kissed him deeply before sliding a hand down his firm chest and over his soft stomach, gripping his hard dick. Hannibal leaned forward to press his forehead against Will’s shoulder, turning his face into his neck and inhaling as he moved their bodies closer. 

He uncapped the bottle and drenched his fingers in the sticky scented fluid, before bringing them to Will’s hole. It had only been a couple of hours since Hannibal had last had three thick fingers stuffed in Will’s ass and he was able to slide in two with little resistance. Will cried out and thrust his ass backwards onto his fingers, his free hand settling in Hannibal’s hair, stroking it tenderly. He set up a rapid pace, pumping his digits in and out of Will’s hole, striking his prostate with every stroke.

“More, now,” Will pleaded, kissing Hannibal with need. Hannibal withdrew his fingers and brushed Will’s hand away so he could apply oil to his flushed erect member.

Will wrapped an arm around Hannibal’s shoulders and raised himself up, pressed close to his torso. Hannibal angled his dick so it was pressed to Will’s wet hole. Will held his scarlet gaze as he slowly sank down on Hannibal’s length, moaning against his neck. He settled himself fully on his thick meat, ass clenching as he adjusted. “You are mine,” Hannibal growled. “I love you and you are mine,” he said, holding Will tight.

Will raised his body up and crashed back down onto Hannibal making them both cry out. Hannibal wove a hand into Will’s curls, pulling him into a deep kiss, muffling delighted sounds that could have them discovered, hanged for their love. Hannibal would rather be hanged than never know the feeling of Will’s hot body wrapped around his. His fingers traced the line of Will’s spine, gripping his ass cheek and encouraging Will to ride him faster. “Yours,” Will gasped against Hannibal’s lips.

“Yes, and I am yours,” Hannibal assured him. He pressed his forehead to Will’s, their heavy breaths mingling. “Whatever the future brings, that will always be true,” his voice was wrecked. “Never doubt my love for you.”

“Never,” Will said breathlessly. “You will always have a piece of me, a piece no else can touch,” he promised. Hannibal moaned, biting down on Will’s neck and breaking the skin. He dragged his tongue over the wounds, soothing the skin and tasting his blood.

Will cried out and clutched Hannibal closer, hand on the back of his neck, encouraging him to taste him further. Hannibal obliged, sucking at Will’s neck while he moaned softly. Will began to bounce faster on Hannibal’s cock, riding him recklessly as his climax drew nearer. “Look at me Will,” Hannibal whispered. “Remember that no-one else will ever be so deep inside you, make you feel the way I do. Cum for me Will, show me that you are mine!”

Will crashed his lips to Hannibal’s, screaming into his mouth as he came, seed coating them both and smearing between their stomachs. Hannibal clutched him as he filled Will’s ass and they fell back onto the bed, still wrapped in a tight embrace. “I love you,” Hannibal said.

“I love you too,” Will said, closing eyes against tears as the voice returned.

Temporary.

Their love story was destined to be a tragedy, beauty and ecstasy, followed by agony and Will wanted it all anyway.

He fell into a satisfied sleep before he felt the sting of Hannibal’s tears against his neck.