#poor ina though lololol

[we-are-conjoined]

Hannigram + date night!

another prompt from @krey-9-jorce! they drew the sweetest fanart of my hannigram + vacationing fic oml i’ve had to look at it several times just to make sure it’s real!! many thanks for the prompt and the art!

Note: this fic is a bit darker than my last two - will is definitely dark!will so he and hannibal are murder husbands, well, murdering their way through europe. i doubt anyone in this fandom minds that but if you do, this is your warning to read carefully! also they’re using their regular names (even though i doubt they canonically would, being on the run and all) because i’m lazy lolol. there’s one reasonably defined OC as well but she’s basically irrelevant.

“This is the young man I was telling you about, Dr. Lecter,” Ina Hoffmann called. Her heavily accented English carried much louder on the waves of champagne she’d been downing all night. As she made her way through the crowds, her bouncing brown curls and spangled dress caught the attention of every gentleman (and quite a few ladies) on the dance floor.

Those same eyes turned almost immediately afterwards to the man she was dragging - by the wrist, no less - across the room. They looked him up and down, eyed his fine Italian tuxedo and dark curls not quite masking azure eyes, and turned to one another with curiosity and dismay.

Is he the new one? Has she already moved on so quickly from that wealthy lawyer? Ah, her parents must be absolutely fed up, were just a few of the whispers shared in Luxembourgian behind manicured fingers.

The man Ina had called turned at the sound of his name, a thin smile alighting upon even thinner lips at the sight of the young debutante. He nodded away the guests he’d been entertaining and gave her a slight bow as she approached.

“I’m afraid I don’t remember any singular young man, Ina - you have so many, you know. Please, introduce us?” he asked. The remnants of his native language hugged every word that spilled from his lips, and gave a wholly pleasant chill down the spine of every woman near enough to hear.

Ina giggled prettily and pulled the dark-haired man forward, slipping her hand from his wrist into the curve of his elbow with a very particular subtlety. Dr. Lecter’s eyes flicked to the motion for only an instant before returning his gaze to her’s - he’d seen that motion a dozen times from her, and used it plenty himself.

“Dr. Lecter, surely you must remember this one; it’s Will Graham, of course!” Ina crooned, and closed her eyes for a moment as if overcome with emotion. “Is he not one of the finest gentlemen you’ve ever laid eyes on?”

Will Graham grimaced just shy of imperceptibly, but held out his free hand to meet the one Dr. Lecter offered amicably enough.

“Yes, I’m Will Graham. It’s all right if you don’t remember my name, Doctor,” Will said, “I’ve certainly heard enough about you to remember yours.”

“I do apologize. I don’t usually forget a name so easily, but you know our Ina. She speaks of so many things at once - it can be hard to keep track. ”

“I understand. That’s one of her many good qualities, in my opinion. She has so many, it’s hard to know which is my favorite,” Will disclosed, and transferred his gaze to Ina as though she were a small poodle preening for attention - with just enough emotion to satiate her spotlight cravings.

Dr. Lecter chuckled, thoroughly amused, as Ina blushed and gave Will a flirtatious tap on the shoulder. She seemed entirely too high on the night and he wondered if he should call a cab; however, he decided against it immediately. The light in her eyes was engrossing, and the thinly veiled disdain in Will’s was even more so.

“You’re far too forward, Mr. Graham,” she laughed, “and I don’t think I’ve had quite enough champagne to allow so many compliments.”

“Please, Miss Hoffmann, I was just on my way for another glass myself,” a dashing but unknown young man said, stepping up behind her with impressive alacrity. “Would you like to accompany me on my search?”

Ina shrugged with glee and, after casting one more glance at the two men she was leaving, took the arm he offered her.

“Don’t go anywhere, you two!” she cheered as her new conquest led her away. “We’ve still got heaps to discuss!”

Dr. Lecter and Will waved until she turned back around and was absolutely occupied with another flight of fancy before lapsing into a thick, still silence. 

Will lapsed into more than that - he let out a barely-there sigh and lifted a hand to his bow-tie, running a finger underneath his collar in a desperate attempt to ease the itch that had pursued him since the moment he’d closed the last button.

Hannibal was there before he’d even gotten halfway around the base of his neck. 

“Don’t,” he chided, taking Will’s hand in his own. “You’ll ruin the knot. I spent far  too long on your tuxedo for you to ruin it as soon as we meet again.”

Will gave him a calculated glare - however, it was met with a warning eyes that bored into his like a needle, until he relented and released his collar.

“This is your idea of a date?” he murmured after Hannibal finished fixing his ‘hard work’. “We’ve been on the run together for how long now? And the first time you agree to take me out, we have to spend the whole evening apart?” 

Will tried not to sound too petty, normally - he didn’t want Hannibal getting any strange ideas - but tonight he couldn’t help an inkling of a genuine whine circling the edges of his conversational tone. 

He really was warranted a good critique of Hannibal at this point. After they’d fallen from the cliff, their intentions towards each other had been utterly clear for the first time - Will loved Hannibal. Hannibal loved Will. The two years they’d spent as more than enemies or friends had been captivating, electric, and perfect - utterly transcending even the most whirlwind romances. 

But even the most captivating, perfect, and transcendent relationship required a real date night every now and then.

Hannibal didn’t mind that their only outings together always ended in someone ending up thoroughly dead; in his opinion, there was nothing more alluring than Special Agent Will Graham doused in the blood of another human being, and their killing sprees always ended with the two of them tumbling passionately into bed together, so what was the problem?

“The problem,” Will had said a few nights prior to the present, as they’d strung up the limbs of a notably rude stock broker, “is that I want to spend time with you doing something everybody else might consider normal.”

“We are a million light years from normal, darling,” Hannibal had offered his usual reply, panting at the exertion of speaking and stringing, and it was met with an irritated grunt from the patch of darkness next to him. 

But eventually Will had worn Hannibal down with much, much compromise. They had to go to a place of Hannibal’s choosing, and Will was required to wear and do precisely as he was told.

“Will this be how all our time together is spent?” Will asked suddenly, and Hannibal glanced to him, surprised at the darkness in his voice. “Forced to pretend we don’t know each other? Will I have to break the hearts of every feebleminded debutante and kill every police officer in Luxembourg before we can spend any real time together?”

Hannibal heard it in Will’s voice - a sigh, a desire, for something that wasn’t what he was saying outright.

“Is that what you want, Will?” he asked quietly, enticingly, “could you be, perhaps, bored?” He stepped closer, right up against Will’s shoulder, enjoying the heat that rolled from his skin in crackling swells.

Will remained stubborn for only a moment before closing his eyes and leaning just slightly in Hannibal’s chest. Their suits brushed so lightly that neither of them felt it, but the proximity was enough to send both their heads spinning with intimate desire for the exact same thing.

“Take responsibility, Hannibal,” he murmured, just barely a breathe.

Hannibal heard, and he understood.

“Have you encountered anyone rude tonight, darling? Do you suppose anyone has acted particularly disgracefully?” 

The words slipped from Hannibal’s lips like silk sheets falling from a bed, or a snake slithering through the bars of its poorly-made cage, and were met with a lip-biting smile from Will.

They seemed to nod without movement and fell into step with polished dexterity, one that came with an extreme understanding no one else in the room could even begin to understand. The two of them drew the eyes of many who once again sizing them up, trying to comprehend their intrusion into Luxembourgian high society.

Will set a surreptitious glare around the room, picking up on every exit their venue offered. Many of the doors were tall and exquisitely engraved and filigreed - and flanked by at least two servants more than happy to hinder his and Hannibal’s subtle escape. 

“There,” Hannibal breathed into his ear. It sent a thrill down Will’s spine and he narrowed his eyes in the direction Hannibal had subtly gestured - a much plainer exit, with only a single extremely disinterested employee standing nearby. 

“We’ll drug them, then?” Will whispered, turning his head as though trying to find someone, but speaking directly into Hannibal’s ear. “Tell the servant they’re drunk, call a cab, and be on our way?”

Hannibal gazed upon him with a look so intensely and unabashedly proud that Will had to resist the urge to chuckle.

“So, dear,” he said, pressing a kiss to Hannibal’s shoulder and turning back forwards before anyone was the wiser, “what’ll it be for dinner tonight?”

“Shouldn’t you be asking ‘who’?” was the reply Will received, and he bit down on his inner lip - hard - to resist the excitement that rolling in his stomach when Hannibal pressed a small, nearly invisible knife into the palm of Will’s hand.

They both paused at the edge of the dance floor and surveyed the scene before them. It was of Ina Hoffmann, their sweet, silly debutante who had ordained to think she could introduce them, twirling in the arms of a young man who clearly hoped to receive something from her that she would never give. 

For them, it was the perfect excuse to steal her away - to rescue her.

“Perhaps she thought we would duel for her hand?” Will asked, and hummed pensively at the thought.

“She was a sweet child,” Hannibal said, and then turned to Will with a smile that was utterly familiar but remained entirely seductive. “You can break her heart and kill her in one night; two birds with one stone, as it were.”

“More like one bird with two stones,” Will replied, and with that, they glided across the room to meet their debutante with the ease of a vulture descending upon prey.

Fin.

disclaimer: the last line about “one bird with two stones” is NOT MINE. i can’t for the life of me remember who made the edit i saw that was titled that, but i was 100% inspired by ANOTHER POST for hannigram’s last banter. i don’t want take any kind of false credit, so please keep that in mind!  

let me know if there are any typos or errors and i’ll be happy to change them immediately!