snowblindrpg | [log] A Snowhell Dinner Party [closed]

[That smile is so lovely, and Hannibal smiles warmly in return. Someone who was witnessing this from the outside (House, perhaps?) might find it bizarre that their expressions of affection center on the expressed desire to be the one to murder the other. For the moment, Hannibal doesn't care. House is already aware of their particular, peculiar, relationship. No need to obscure the truth of it.

He lifts his hand from Will's, and uses it to caress the side of the younger man's face, settling to cup his cheek.]

[ A hand to his cheek usually precipitated a knife to the gut but Will was starting to become comfortable with the idea that Hannibal didn't mean bloodshed. At least, not at the moment.

He leaned into the touch, equally unconcerned about having an audience. They had played out their dance for public consumption often enough in the past. Chilton, Jack, Alana and others. Will was used to being judged for it, and also for being unwilling to alter his own chosen course as a result of that judgement.

Of course, this didn't mean he wasn't braced for the trolling comment he expected would be coming from House at any moment now. ]

[It's a good thing will is expecting comments from the peanut gallery. Unfortunately for him, it might be a little hard to decipher what they are.

House has no idea what languages Hannibal actually speaks, but the accent says eastern European. He'd been hiding in Italy for a while. And he's a connoisseur of fine food. French comes to mind, but it's one of the more common languages for Americans to know. That goes for Italian and Spanish, as well. Of the options left to him, Japan is probably next most well known for its culinary arts.

He speaks up in perfectly fluent, if accented, Japanese:]

Oh, for god's sake, just kiss the boy. Do I have to wait for the commercial break?

[Hannibal turns his head and lifts his eyebrows at the other doctor. There's a great deal of significance to the Japanese, of course, from House's ability to puzzle out that Hannibal would know Japanese, to his clear desire to communicate in a way Will would not understand. But his timing leaves much to be desired.

He answers in Japanese.]

Would you mind giving us a moment, Dr. House?

Edited 2017-11-25 21:29 (UTC)

Let me have the bed tonight without a fight or a coin toss, and I'll be out of your hair while you two get cooking.

[Is it wise to test whether or not he can manipulate Hannibal? Probably not. But he has to try. When the psychiatrist is sufficiently distracted by his desire for Will seems as good a time as any.]

Edited 2017-11-25 22:26 (UTC)

[Oh, House is trying to manipulate him! How cute.]

Perhaps I should discuss it with Will. I'm sure he'll be quite interested in your attempts to cut him out of the conversation.

[House raises a brow and sets his sets his magazine aside as he focuses on Hannibal more fully. There's a small smirk curling up his lips. This is dangerous, but it's fun. He wants to see what will happen.]

Sure. Tell him I'm giving you sex advice, while you're at it. Ancient burakumin techniques I learned from a village at the base of the Akaishi Mountains. He's cute when he sputters and blushes.

[Fun, indeed.]

I could tell him, that, yes. I'd be happy to frame our conversation in those terms. If you are so kind as to give us a moment to ourselves. Otherwise...well. I would hate to have to see which one of us Will trusts more. Do you think it would be you, Dr. House?

[Oh, now that's an interesting tactic. House decides to try it for himself and hopefully undercut the threat. He switches to English.]

Hey, Graham Cracker, enjoy the make-out session. Just don't get anything on the food. I gave your beau some tips. I'm gonna go check out the bed. Your boyfriend said I could have it for the night if I stop bothering you guys.

[He absolutely does not expect Will to believe him fully on that, but there's a grain of truth to the commentary and it puts the onus on Hannibal to call him a liar now. The doctor picks himself up slowly.]

Don't burn the house down with all that crackling UST.

[If neither Hannibal nor Will stop him, House will limp off to the bedroom to start methodically searching for items in the house. He leaves the cooking supplies and his magazine, but picks up his pack to take with him.]

Edited 2017-11-25 23:10 (UTC)

[ As soon as the pair of them began to trade exchanges in Japanese, Will recognized he was at a severe disadvantage. It definitely was a language he had no experience in, and given the way Hannibal could play poker and House could deflect in his expression, the ex-profiler couldn't even get a good read off their expressions.

This was ... concerning.

Not just because he knew that House was trying to find Hannibal's buttons to push them, but because he knew that Hannibal's curiosity and amusement with the diagnostician's antics would only go so far. Will wasn't going to be able to intervene (not that he was all that effective to begin with) and if they began to collude?

Yeah this could be a problem.

By the time House switched back to English, the younger man was looking decidedly wary of both older men. Thus he gave House a suspicious look. ]

Answer me this, you two. Do they teach the ability to knot a single truth into a web of misdirection in medical school or is that something you learn in Residency?

[ Because Hannibal did it, and House did it. But then House was limping off without answering, leaving Hannibal on the hook and Will turned his attention to his friend. ]

I know better than to ask. [ He said, in a wry voice. Because it was true. Hannibal might explain or might keep it to himself, depending which chess move best suited his plans. ]

[Hannibal sighs and lowers his hand, turning instead to the table, looking at their supplies, his disappointment likely visible to Will in the slight droop of his head and his shoulders. That delicate moment has passed, and it feels improper to try to initiate any further physical intimacy.]

He's misrepresenting how that exchange went.

[He speaks without looking up from the table.]

Edited 2017-11-26 00:31 (UTC)

[ Will's jaw nearly dropped.

He didn't think he could ever think of a time when Hannibal had been, dejected? The exchange in his kitchen had been heartbroken, yes but determined and always in control. Part of Will wanted to reach out to his friend, but part of him wasn't sure it would be welcome.

But he did take a step towards both the table and Hannibal. ]

I expected as much. [ He confirmed and when he found himself feeling a desire to get back within Hannibal's line of sight, he didn't fight it. Just edged around, looking for those dark eyes. ]

House is deliberately infuriating. He uses it as both a weapon and a shield.

[ For a minute Will fell quiet and then it was his turn for his eyes to look to the table before he continued in a softer voice. ]

Unfortunately, he's also a very good listener, and an excellent diagnostician. He knows what questions to ask, and I ... I needed to talk about you. Perhaps more than I should have, I ... apologize for that.

But I [ Will's voice caught, held and then he finished. ] I thought I was alone.

[ I thought I'd never see you again. That I'd found Hell. Living without you. ]

[Sympathy is a way to get Will on his side. That isn't to say he wasn't sincerely disappointed at a moment lost, but he allowed Will to see it, perhaps more than he would have otherwise.

Once Will tries to catch Hannibal's eye, he turns toward him, moves toward him, wanting to make it clear that his turning away was not a rejection. When Will falls silent, Hannibal moves closer, and places a hand on Will's shoulder, tilting his head in an echo of what Will had done, trying to catch his eyes.]

There's no need to apologize, Will. I do not blame you whatsoever for speaking the truth. I know you felt alone. It's a terrible feeling. But you're not alone anymore.

[ Will should probably be a little more wary of these sort of nuanced manipulations from Hannibal. But he was on uncertain ground, had lost a step -at least- and so tumbled head first into a tangle of his own emotional making.

That and Hannibal always had been good at working a situation to his best advantage.

Blue eyes found dark, and perhaps Will didn't try searching as deeply as he should have, or at any other time would have. He truly had been at a loss, waking up in this town, fresh on the conscious heels of having made a commitment he'd run from for so long, yet finding himself completely alone.

He should know better, but those warning voices were silent for the time being and Will could only feel a sense of relief at the forgiveness (wait what??) and then a need to step to Hannibal, just as he'd done on the cliff. His arms tentative as they found their way around the older man's waist, tension not leaving his body until he was able to replicate the way he'd rested his head on Hannibal's shoulder.

Only then, with the physical presence of the older man against his cheek, the scent of him and the soft sounds that came with shifting fabric, only then did he close his eyes and relax. ]

[The last time this happened, Will dragged Hannibal off a cliff. Perhaps, then, Hannibal can be forgiven a glance at the table to ensure that the butcher knife is still there and not in Will's hand. Satisfied the knife is not part of this exchange, Hannibal wraps his arms around his friend, settling one hand on the back of Will's head, cradling it to his shoulder. With the other hand he slowly strokes Will's back. He leans his head against Will's, and closes his eyes, inhaling deep Will's scent.]

[ Would now be a good time to mention the pocket knife he picked up?

Probably not. Nor was it making an appearance. Will wasn't feeling homicidal towards his friend, if anything he was still trying to wrap his head around the reality that Hannibal was here; that he wasn't alone.

Will felt that uncomfortable social itch that said he should be trying to find words to speak, something to say in order to mark this moment. Truthfully, he just wanted to press closer to Hannibal, his scent and his warmth and go to sleep, even if part of him would fear waking up to find this to be a dream; a hallucination.

But before he could think of something profound to offer to the silence, his stomach stepped in and growled quite insistently. ]

[Hannibal wants to stay in the embrace as well, even to find some quiet place where they can lie down together and just hold each other, falling asleep together. But then Will's stomach growls, and Hannibal's attention is brought to the issue of food. As much as he doesn't want to let go of Will, there are things to be done.

Still, there's one thing he wants to ensure happens before they turn theor attention to food.

He pulls back, takes Will's face in his hands, and presses his lips to his friend's.]

[ It had been a near thing on that cliff's edge.

Will had never thought to question his sexuality, such as it was given the various psychosis he struggled with in his life. He wouldn't have even tried to label himself one way or another, because what he felt with Hannibal, went so far beyond the physical that labels never made sense.

On the cliff, riding the intimate high that had been a shared kill, a kiss had felt natural, but it had been interrupted by the greater intimacy of a murder/suicide. Now, the warm press of his friend's mouth against his own felt like a homecoming rather than a first time.

Will reached up to grasp Hannibal's wrists. Not to push him away but as an anchor, when he returned the kiss, moving his chapped lips against the older man's. ]

[To Hannibal, sex is typically merely another tool, another arrow in his quivver, to be used to further his own purposes, whether with men or women. Yet what is happening here is something different. He has nothing in his mind but desire, desire to feel and taste and smell this man who he loves, who he has desired for so long. It had not been quite the time for this on that cliff, a fact he's able to appreciate. But now that they are beyond that moment of death, they can allow themselves this.

In answer to Will's grip on his wrists, Hannibal continues the kiss, allowing his lips to part and his tongue to slip out, gently smoothing along Will's lips, noting how chapped they were, to the extent that he can taste the smallest amount of blood.]

[ To give the other devil his due, in a lot of ways Will would probably have been in worse shape without House. House knew where the hot water could be found, where vending machines could be found and the best routes to maximize what was available. Will would have been stumbling around, wasting as much energy as he was able to recoup and probably giving himself worse than chapped lips through constant cold showers.

He exhaled softly into the kiss, releasing what remained of his struggles against the draw he felt to this man. It wasn't healthy, they were blurred and Will knew in his heart that he would never survive a separation. It was as he'd told House, he was a poster child of what not to do in a dance with the devil.

But at the moment he didn't give such matters any more thought than it took to let them go. Kissing Hannibal, welcoming the deepening of the embrace, his own tongue coming forward to tangle and then suck softly on the older man's. Any thought beyond this moment and this embrace, fled from mind.

...

Until his stomach gave another loud, insistent growl. ]

[Hannibal may have once believed that he could mend what he considered to be the weakness of loving this man by consuming him. Now he knows that their hearts beat as one, their tendrils of being so firmly rooted in one another that trying to live as separate persons is nigh impossible. Their shared kill on the cliff that night showed Hannibal what could be, what a life with Will, a Will whose eyes were opened to the beauty of blood in the moonlight, could be like. Hannibal wants that life, wants this man he draws nourishment from and gives nourishment to in turn to be by his side, to share the life that they will create together.

The sound of Will's stomach brings Hannibal back to the moment, and he pulls back, caressing Will's cheek.]

Perhaps we should prepare our meal.

[ As Hannibal drew back, Will kept his hands in place until the last possible moment when they lost contact. He wasn't sure what more they could do, or would do, but he didn't try to hide the way his tongue darted out to lick the lingering taste of the older man off his lips.

Allowing himself one more breath, anchoring to the idea that this was reality and not a dream, he blinked and refocused on their immediate needs. ]

What do you want me help with?

[ Hannibal was usually very particular about his kitchen and Will had learned to be a respectful, if not always honest, sous chef. ]

Edited 2017-11-26 05:43 (UTC)

[Hannibal is particular about his kitchen, but these circumstances are significantly similar to camping, which is more of Will's purview.]

Would you be so kind as to discern how to start a fire? While the vegetables and fruits could be consumed raw, this steak would be far better cooked.

[log] A Snowhell Dinner Party [closed]

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cw: canon typical codependency

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