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It was rare to be surprised. But as Hannibal Lecter looked down at the unconscious man bleeding neatly onto his Turkish rug, surprise was precisely what he felt.
The man who was the cause of it, well-built, dark-eyed, and harboring medium straight auburn hair, offered no visible remorse and simply smiled at him.
“I do apologize for the intrusion.”
Hannibal blinked. “You broke into my home.”
“I knocked first,” Beau replied genuinely, not that semantics mattered to him as he straightened the sleeves of his jacket. “No one answered. That’s not really my fault.”
Hannibal tilted his head, studying him with growing interest, even though he should definitely seize him sooner than later. “I take it this man is... yours?”
Beau’s lips twitched, not quite a smile.
“He thought he could get away by forming alliances.” His gaze moved to Tobias, something reverent before edging with something feral. “With you.”
“I am... flattered..?” Not at all. “But it was hardly treachery. Merely curiosity.”
Beau looked back at him.
The gaze was cold. Polite. Dangerous.
“I do not share.”
There was a long pause. Hannibal considered the implications, whether it would be worth pressing. But, it's not like he had any interest in Tobias. Too responsive. Too predictable. He was boring.
Instead he worded, “You’re quite the unusual man.”
“So I've been told,” Beau replied. “I’ll send you a bottle of wine, un buen Ribera del Duero,” he said in a thick accent, hoisting Tobias effortlessly over his shoulder. “And a fruit basket. Very tasty. Thank you for your time. Do tell Will I said hi, Si?”
Hannibal composure faltered and before he can seriously inquire, Beau left dragging his bleeding, semi-conscious lover out of the house like a wolf returning with a disobedient mate.
Hannibal stood in the quiet room for a moment longer, before staring at the rug.
He should clean that before it becomes troublesome.
How does he know Will?