Written for #HannibaLibre ♥ A little exploration of domestic murder husbands in Cuba.
The house was a lovely thing, all yellow stucco and red roof tiles, set just outside of Havana. Hannibal had bought it on a whim many years ago; deciding that Cuba’s lack of extradition treaties and the beauty of the landscaping alone made for a worthy investment. When he’d purchased the house it had been winter, and Hannibal been able to see between the leafy trees and barren flower stems to catch a glimpse of the beach that was mere meters away. Now, in height of summer, with all of the flowers in full bloom, it gave the effect of being in a private world created for just the two of them.
Will had taken a liking to reclining on a lounge chair in the backyard in the afternoons, idling in the warm weather while Hannibal cleaned up after lunch or began preparations for dinner. Hannibal stood in the back doorway and watched as Will stretched, all golden brown glistening skin in the sunshine. Will had changed so much- both of them had since arriving in Cuba- but the freedom of their life had allowed Will to blossom like one of the many morning glories that grew up the side of the house.
He’d been hesitant at first, of course. Hannibal had given him access to a bank account and told him to do exactly as he pleased, curious as to what Will would do with the money.
Slowly but surely, the house had begun to fill up with little things that Will brought back from town and added to what Hannibal already owned. Will’s ill-fitted flannels gave way to linen shirts; repairing boat motors to tinkering with broken down classic cars they found around the island. Even Hannibal’s opera music had been edged out in favor of CDs Will picked up from street performers when they went out in the evenings.
It was a collection Hannibal hoped to never stop adding to. A culmination of a full and fully shared life.
Happiness, Hannibal thought, was a very good look on them both.
“Enjoying yourself?” Hannibal asked as he wandered across the yard. The lounge chair creaked as he sat down next to Will and ran a hand over his thigh; unable to help but touch him whenever possible.
“Immensely.” Will smiled, eyes squinted against the sunlight. “And you?”
“Right now, or in general?”
Hannibal gently nudged Will so that he would edge over and make room for the both of them on the lounge chair. Draping an arm across Will’s stomach, he curled up next to him; heedless of the way Will’s sweat-damp skin stuck to his clothes.
“I don’t believe I have ever been so fully entertained in my life,” Hannibal said. “You come into your own more and more every day. I doubt I could ever tire of waking up and wondering what new changes I might encounter in you.”
Will closed his eyes, idly running his fingers over Hannibal’s forearm. “I haven’t changed that much,” he protested.
“You have. You make choices with an ease and confidence you didn’t have before.”
“Mhmm.” Hannibal pressed a kiss to Will’s shoulder. His hand drifted down, fingers following the trail of hair from below Will’s navel to the top of a pair of dangerously tiny, low slung shorts Will had brought home after his morning grocery trip.
“For example, the Will Graham I met so many years ago would never have felt so at ease with himself as to make a display of lying about in such scandalous attire,” Hannibal said as he toyed with the bow at Will’s waistband.
“Is that what I’m doing?” Will asked with a grin. “Making a display of myself?”
“Yes. And do you know what happens to boys who make such displays of themselves?”
Will pretended to consider the question. “Well, I’m not entirely sure considering I’m pushing forty and thus long past boyhood…”
Hannibal pinched the soft skin of his side in playful reproach. “I see your desire to be contrary still has yet to change.”
“No. And you love me for it.”
“Yes,” Hannibal said. He lifted his hand to Will’s face, thumb brushing over the thin, white scar on his cheek before pulling him in for a kiss. “I very much do.”
Will grasped at the collar of Hannibal’s shirt, using it to pull him in closer until Hannibal was nearly lying on top of him. He sucked at Hannibal’s lower lip with just enough teeth to make Hannibal’s stomach swoop and his toes curl, and then pulled away. “I could have you right here on his lounge chair and no one in the world would ever know,” Will murmured against his mouth.
“Perhaps I’d want them to know.”
“Of course you would.” Will rolled his eyes affectionately and indulged Hannibal in a series of slow, lingering kisses before speaking again. “I was thinking we could go out to dinner tonight. There’s a car I was wanting to look at, could make a good project for me.”
Hannibal nodded. “Of course. And what would you like to do until then?”
“Well, there’s a few things I could think of,” Will said, eyes bright with mischief, and flipped Hannibal onto his back so he could straddle his lap.
There was much to be done before going out. Hannibal needed to iron his shirt, and there was laundry waiting to be put into the dryer. But for now he let himself be kissed senseless. Nestled amongst the morning glories and the sound of the crashing waves, they whiled away the afternoon tangled in each other’s arms. In a world for just the two of them.