(Untitled)

[reactstonothing]

Morning.

Real, honest morning.

Hannibal is still asleep, but with considerably more calm to him. Restless but not violently so.

Comments

[mrmoneypenny]

And, right on cue, Villiers wakes up.

And has a terrible crick in his neck from sleeping half-sitting.

But at least the Hannibal in his arms is relatively fine -- he just watches, slightly bleary-eyed, as his chest rises and falls, and how his hands twitch when something happens in his dreams.

A kiss, then, for the poor boy.

[reactstonothing]

mrfl

blink.

Kiss.

"Good morning," says Hannibal softly.

[mrmoneypenny]

"Good morning," he replies, returning that kiss with another one, again.

"Sleep better?"

[reactstonothing]

"Yes."

Brief pause.

"Thank you."

Watch as Hannibal wonders where the fucking hell they're going from here!

[mrmoneypenny]

See Villiers.

See Villiers nest.

Nest nest nest.

Which apparently includes burying his nose against Hannibal's shoulder, holding him only lightly. "Your stitches held up well enough," he comments, clearly still waking up.

[reactstonothing]

"Of course."

Small, wry smile.

"You expected anything less?"

Is he-- teasing?

Yes.

Yes he is.

[mrmoneypenny]

Villiers smiles.

"Well, you're still in medical school. How should I know how your studies are progressing?"

Apparently, Villiers can tease right back.

With a hair scruff, too, accompanied by a teasing "plus, you're only a teen".

[reactstonothing]

"Ah, yes. Only. Of course."

Hannibal... grins, wry again, and raises his eyebrows. Because come on. How many teens could have done with Villiers what Hannibal has?

[mrmoneypenny]

"Mmmhmm," Villiers agrees, cheeky, and kisses Hannibal again, just because.

Ok, so Hannibal totally owns Villiers. And there's always going to be a bit of unease when facing that age differential.

But that's totally not going to stop Villiers from exploiting his age for his own purposes.

(He'll need to. Dealing with Hannibal Lecter, after all, any slight social advantage helps.)

[reactstonothing]

Kisses! Those are good.

And the narration trusts it doesn't need to remind Villiers how little his slight social advantages are worth when Hannibal really gets going.

Yes? Yes.

All right then.

[mrmoneypenny]

He pulls up from it soon enough, though, feeling all the world like he's got a child in his arms. At least, physically.

And wrinkles his nose, staring across the room at certain pictures.

"...lovely decor," he comments dryly.

Grotesque much, Hannibal?

[reactstonothing]

Hannibal...

...doesn't, oddly, smirk and shrug it off with banter.

Instead he sits up.

"It's them I see," he says quietly, staring at the sketches. "In my dreams."

[mrmoneypenny]

The snark stops, dead in the water, sudden and complete.

Villiers sits up as well, keeping close to Hannibal's body, and looks at the pictures under a new light.

And nods, lips pressed against his neck; not really a kiss, just...a touch.

[reactstonothing]

He drags in a breath, seems almost about to speak, then remains silent.

Time passes.

Villiers gets a kiss on the cheek, silent gratitude.

[mrmoneypenny]

Perhaps a change in subject is in order.

"So, doctor-to-be," he says quietly, lightly, and perhaps ironically, "what's the prognosis on my neck? How long must I live with string holding me together?"

[reactstonothing]

Hannibal smiles, perhaps gratefully, runs his fingers along the curves of the wound in a feather-light trace.

"Perhaps a few days; not so long as a week, I think."