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It was well known that Will Graham was unavailable at weekends. Not every weekend, but most of them, when the Chesapeake Ripper wasn't running too wild, he'd have two full days to himself. One day was solely for the dogs, and the other was for fishing, stocking up, and clearing his head. There was nothing better than waking up in the early hours, getting out when it was barely light out with dew and fog clouding the way all to his favorite fishing spot.
Will had been looking forward to another weekend, especially after his little revelation that his not-psychiatrist and friend Hannibal Lecter was the Chesapeake Ripper. But then, said friend went on another killing spree, and Will was strapped to investigations day and night, over yet another weekend.
"You look exhausted, Will."
"Do I now, Dr. Lecter? I wonder why." He all but hissed at the other, who raised but an eyebrow and shrugged the words off. He had been used to Will's rude nature, to his spitefully spit words. It was charming in a way.
"I'm sorry, it's just... Work doesn't end. I missed my own little therapy session, and as nice as it can be talking to you, I prefer fish. No offense."
"None taken." A lot of offense was taken. Hannibal thought himself better than fish. Livestock. Not even the best sort of livestock. "How about a deal, Will?"
"With the devil?" Will joked poorly, but he couldn't help himself. He wasn't sure if Hannibal knew that he knew. It was risky, also had no idea what this meant for their friendship.
"Next session, instead of strapping down here, how about I come over to yours instead and join you and the fish?"
"Are you willingly offering to go fishing with me?"
Hannibal contemplated his thoughts for a few more seconds. But he wasn't someone to go back on his words. He knew he'd hate it, but any time spent with Will was worth it to him. "Yes, Will."
And so the two ended up knees deep in cold waters before the birds awoke.
Hannibal was not an early riser, for reasons of him being out at ungodly hours, managing a job, a notorious hobby, and making hiding tracks so no one would find out about that hobby. When he had been told at what time Will was to set out, he was, for the first time in years, tempted to call it off with a little white lie. Instead, he called off a planned murder instead. He knew it would be impossible to kill, carve, hide, and still drive all the way to Wolftrap early morning, all that while not looking like he'd been awake the whole night.
"The fish wouldn't care if you came out here a bit later, you do know that, Will, don't you?"
"I didn't know you were so grumpy in the morning, Dr. Lecter. Do you perchance prefer to sleep in?" Will found it funny, maybe a bit cute. Next to him, Hannibal stood wearing his old fishing gear, and a horrible hat he had brought himself. UV rays are dangerous, he'd been told. He just didn't care enough himself.
"I would have assumed you were the same, given your job. A healthy sleep schedule is important, and we do require eight hours a night, which is hard to get in our sort of lives."
Will was tempted to ask. What sort of life that he mean? The killing? Hannibal could only be out at night. Maybe he hated waking up early because he wouldn't get his good night's sleep that way. "Nah, I'm fine with three hours. And I like the silence in the morning. Before the whole world wakes up."
"Out here, I'm sure it's silent even in the early afternoon." Hannibal Lecter, notorious cannibalistic serial killer, knee-deep in the waters with flushed cheeks and an occasional runny nose he tried to hide, was pouting. It wasn't far too different from his usual poker face, his natural lip having a curl that could be considered a pout. But it was jutted out even more now, and his tone added a lot of nuances. Hannibal was pouting like a kid who was dragged out against their will.
"Usually it is, yeah. It's usually quiet." He gave a poignant stare, and Hannibal understood. Silence. Will wanted silence.
An hour passed, and no fish bit.
"Is it usually this slow?" Hannibal really was like an impatient kid. He was moving about quite a lot, though Will doubted he noticed it. Slight shuffles from one foot to the other. He could hear his sniffles ever so often, and occasionally trembling teeth. He was a sore sight. Will felt his heart warm.
"Mhm. Sure is. Some days, nothing bites. I'm out here for ten hours with nothing to take home. It just happens. Fish are living creatures, after all." And it didn't bother Will. He wasn't just out here to stock up his fridge. Sure, it was nice to bring home his own food, it was a satisfying feeling. But if nothing bit, he wasn't mad about it. The silence, the fresh air, it was enough to put his mind at ease.
"I see." Hannibal was lost in his thoughts then. Or maybe he was too cold to say anything more, Will thought.
So they spent more time in silence. And eventually, Will's thoughts drifted from Hannibal, shortly to the Chesapeake Ripper, until there was nothing. Just the soft breeze brushing through his hair, the occasional tug on his fishing line, a quick fish getting away to safety.
Hannibal on the other hand, found his way back to his thoughts. He tried to stop thinking about the obvious, how cold he was, how he felt soaked despite the protective clothing. He tried to focus on smells but quickly noticed that nature was nothing against Will. The aftershave was faint, but there was something else, the raw odor of Will that danced around his nostrils. It was too much, and soon, Hannibal found nothing else he could force his mind to go to.
"Hmm..." Hannibal sighed. "Hmmm.." he sighed again, louder. And when Will didn't react even after his third attempt, Hannibal turned to look at him with the deepest frown.
"Yes, Dr. Lecter?" Will was looking at him, amused. So he had noticed.
"I see, you're making fun of me."
"Maybe I do."
Hannibal wanted to be angry at the blatant tease, but when Will flashed him a genuine smile, something he rarely got to witness these days, his lips melted into one as well.
"You're lucky I like-" Before he could have confessed, the fish saved him. Hannibal's line was being tugged at, quite hard, and his eyes widened in shock. "Will, what do I do?" When was the last time Hannibal felt at a pure loss? He couldn't remember. But he also couldn't remember anyone having helped him out before.
Now, there was Will, who quickly moved close, wrapped one arm around, and helped him reel in. "Go with the fish, don't force it at once." Though he was slightly smaller, he still reached Hannibal's ears perfectly with his lips. It was more intimate than anything outside would be deemed appropriate. Yet, Hannibal could not do anything but listen, and try his best to reel their catch in.
"Slow but steady, let go a bit- now reel it back in. Just like that.." This close, Will had a perfect view of Hannibal's ear. It was deep red, though he blamed the weather. It really was a colder day, Will just had thicker skin it seemed.
"Now..pull!" And with Will's help, they caught their one victim of the day.
Hannibal merely watched as Will pulled the hook and put the fish in the cooling bag. It was a sight to behold.
"Come on out, Dr. Lecter, I wouldn't want to be responsible for you getting sick. I won't force you to stay here any longer, we've got a catch and I've got a clear mind. Should be good enough for the day and another."
"You don't have to stop for my sake, Will." But Hannibal was already getting out of the water on quick feet. Once fully out, he looked down at himself, at the hideous clothing he was forced to wear. Nothing felt greater than taking all of it off. Though he didn't warm up right away, at least the heavy, wet feeling was gone. He preferred a different sort of safety suit. And different sorts of liquids. His usual outings ended up with sweat rather than a runny nose and a possible fever.
"Not even giving me any chance to take my words back." Will laughed, and Hannibal wanted to take the sound right to his memory palace, put it in a record player, and play it over and over again.
"I'm sorry, I do have to admit, I might not be an often occurring company. I could pick you up and make dinner afterward, though, if you still prefer this setting over my office. Or my private quarters."
It was Will's turn to blush. Although he would deny it had happened. Maybe he just felt cold too, now. "Yeah, sure, whatever. We could do that. But you just experienced firsthand that I don't always go back home with enough food, not for one, certainly not for two."
"Don't fret just yet, I can provide the meat one day, you can provide it another. We're equals, are we not, Will?" And the look he was given was the final proof that Hannibal knew. He knew that Will knew. And he did not pull out any hidden weapons and attack. Will was safe. Which meant Hannibal was safe.
He was at a loss for words, stunned, for long seconds. And when he caught himself, he simply grabbed the cooling bag and nodded his head at Hannibal. "Come on, Doctor. Let's go back to mine. I think I have at least enough in my fridge for a decent meal. My treat. I've got to prove that I'm a worthy companion too. You did your job quite well, today."
And Hannibal followed Will, not one step behind as usual, but right next to him. He had a small smile tugging on his lips, happy he finally had his equal next to him, accepting and returning current and future feelings.