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Title: On and Off Again
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: Sequel to "The Reality of Love."
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Hannibal Lecter or Will Graham, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.


Will cleared his throat, looking nervously over at Hannibal, who was sitting across the kitchen table from him. They'd just had dinner, and Hannibal had insisted on making coffee. He was leaning back in his chair, sipping from his coffee cup nonchalantly.

This was as good a time as any to have a serious discussion with his boyfriend, Will thought. If only he knew how and where to begin.

He and Hannibal seemed to have such an up-and-down relationship that he wasn't sure what part of it he should address first. They were lovers one day, distant the next. But none of that distance came from Will; it was all from Hannibal's side.

He had no idea why his boyfriend waxed hot and cold. But he was going to find out.

As far as he knew, he hadn't done anything to make Hannibal act this way. He had gone over everything in his mind again and again, and he could come up with n reason.

On Halloween night, they'd gone to bed together, and Hannibal had been gentle with him, almost sweet. He had definitely been loving; they had taken a hot bath together after they'd made love, and it had been one fo the most wonderful nights of Will's life.

Then, for the past few days, Hannibal had been distant again. Not being dismissive, but simply keeping Will at arm's length, as though Hannibal didn't want him around.

It was horribly frustrating. It made him want to scream like an angry child, pound his fists on the floor, and throw a temper tantrum. But he was an adult; he certainly couldn't do something like that, not without looking foolish, and drawing Hannibal's scorn.

No, he had to keep his frustration at bay, and find a way to talk to Hannibal calmly and rationally. But that was far more easily said than done.

How did he start this conversation? What could he say?

Hannibal had been so on and off again lately that Will was almost afraid to say anything. Maybe it was best to simply leave things as they were, and try to deal with it.

He took a deep breath, looking down into his coffee cup. No, he couldn't do that. If he did, then he would be a coward, and he would regret not speaking to Hannibal about this while he had the chance. He wasn't going to back down and slink away.

No, he was going to confront this problem head-on, and they were going to talk it out. They had to. Will was sure that the future of their relationship depended on it.

"What is on your mind, Will?"

The words startled Will out of his thoughts, bringing him sharply back to the present moment. He set his coffee cup down, clearing his throat, but still having no idea of just ho to start the conversation, of what he was going to say.

He didn't want to make it sound as though he was annoyed, because he wasn't. He was simply confused -- and more than a little hurt by Hannibal's attitude.

If he said that he was hurt, then he would have to explain exactly why, and Hannibal might snort at that explanation and hurt his feelings even further.

But it was a chance he had to take. If Hannibal disregarded his feelings about the situation, then he wasn't the man who Will should be with, in spite of his feelings. Will took a deep breath, opened his mouth, and then found that the words were pouring out.

"What's wrong with us, Hannibal?"

That was all he could say for a few moments; the look on Hannibal's face was somewhere between surprise and disbelief, as though he hadn't heard Will correctly.

"I wasn't aware that there was anything wrong with us, Will." Hannibal's voice was soft and soothing, the voice that he used to calm down patients when they appeared to be getting out of control. It wasn't a voice that Will wanted to hear directed at himself.

"Then you haven't been paying attention to us," Will said, unable to stop now that he'd started speaking. "I don't think there's anything particularly right about us at the moment."

Hannibal folded his hands, obviously waiting for Will to finish talking.

"We're just .... on and off again," he managed to say, feeling tears start to clog his throat. "Or at least, you are. It's like I don't .... mean anything to you. Like I'm just a distraction."

Hannibal sighed softly, shaking his head. "Will, if you think that you are just a distraction to me, then you're very wrong. You mean more to me than I can put into words -- though I know that sometimes I don't show it very well. Please, try to bear with me."

Will nodded, blinking back the tears that were threatening more than ever to spill over. He would do as his lover asked, but he still had misgivings.

"Why do you push me away so much of the time?" he whispered, his voice breaking on the last words. "It's killing me, Hannibal. It makes me feel like I'm nothing but a game to you, that I'm not important. Sometimes I feel like you're just toying with me."

Hannibal shook his head again, reaching for Will's hand, then seemingly changing his mind and drawing it back. He got to his feet, moving to stand by Will's chair.

With one quick movement, he pulled the young man up from the chair and into his arms.

Will only had time to register the desire burning in Hannibal's gaze before the other man's lips were on his, his arms crushing Will close against him. Will gasped against Hannibal's mouth, his legs weakening, his arms sliding around Hannibal's waist to support himself.

"If that felt as though I'm toying with you, Will, then you have a great deal to learn about me -- and about what I want," Hannibal murmured against his lips.

Moments later, Hannibal was leading him through the house and up the stairs; Will knew that they were headed towards the bedroom, and that they would make love. He only hoped that this time, there would be no on and off again -- and that they would stay on forever.