soulmateAU: when your soulmate eats something you grave what they are eating! please! I mean Will poor poor Will graving human meat? goddamnit or Hannibal graving fast food? xD well this can be angsty or funny! :^)
I couldn’t decide between angsty or funny so I wrote both! :D
For the first year, he doesn’t mind it.
The menu doesn’t vary much. It’s mostly cooked fish, steamed vegetables (usually string beans), nicely fluffed rice. It’s whiskey most nights and coffee most mornings (and some mornings it’s coffee and whiskey). It’s the occasional Hershey’s chocolate bar, which makes Hannibal’s palate wince - he really thought he’d taught Will how to appreciate a nice bitter dark chocolate, but he supposes some habits are hard to break.
It’s fresh lemon pie in the summer, and warm cider with rum in the winter. It’s the beef stew that Hannibal gave him the recipe for, made with a really lovely bordeaux.
It’s lomo saltado, once, although there’s a saltwater aftertaste that’s unmistakable.
All of these tastes, lingering in the back of Hannibal’s throat, dancing on the edges of his senses, he savours. Because it’s a small piece of Will that he can still cling to within these white, lifeless walls. It’s why he behaves so perfectly for his guards - the most gentlemanly of murderers - and it works. Works so well that they grant him special meal privileges, all so that Will can still taste Hannibal’s cooking, now and then.
But even that small thread can bring the deepest of pain when tugged too tight, and it does just that on an unremarkable Sunday afternoon.
The day that Hannibal tastes wedding cake on his tongue.
It’s a light sponge, perfectly moist with a dark chocolate buttercream. A simple cake, but well made. The taste makes Hannibal want to vomit.
Then he tastes the ghosting press of fingers as they playfully shove the cake in his - Will’s - face, and he does vomit then.
He retches in his tiny porcelain toilet with violent force, and he holds the stale acrid tang of it in his mouth before he spits, hoping that somewhere far away Will gets a taste.
Then he rinses his mouth out, splashes water on his face, and lies down in his grey cot. He stares up at the void of the ceiling and wishes he could never taste anything ever again.
(fluffy part 2 under the cut)