#ever since that victory we have gotten embarrassed in europe

[mssi]

happy remontada anniversary day! that 6-1 win over psg ruined barça

[rivers-rambles21]

The one with the road trip

Part 15 of The one where Bucky has a cute neigbour series!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader (f)

Warnings | 18+ only  - no smut but mentions of it

Chapter 15 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 1 | Masterlist

Apologies for any mistakes, this has been written on my phone and its a bit difficult to edit. Once I’m back with a working laptop I’ll give it a once over :)

Bucky had intended on renting a bike so you could ride down to Louisiana but with Sam’s suit it would’ve been an impossible feat. 

He settled for hiring an SUV and added you both to the insurance so you could take it in turns driving on the long trip down south. 

“Been together one day and we’re already on our first trip” You teased as you rested your feet on the dash, taking in the scenery as Bucky drove. His metal hand gripped the steering wheel as he peaked a glance over to your bare legs, resisting the urge to pull over. 

“You’re the one having a mid life crisis doll not me” You feigned offense and swatted the soldier beside you, pleased to get a hit in as he tried to dodge your attack. His eyes remained on the road as he grasped your hand in his. “Less of that thank you” He laughed, bringing your hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on the back before giving it back to rest on your thigh, his hand not leaving yours. 

“Looking forward to seeing Sam again?” He didn’t respond but his face said it all. “You’re so dramatic” You chuckled as you leant down to root around in your bag for the road trip snacks. Retrieving a bag of cashews, you offered it to Bucky who gladly took a handful. 

“I just know he’s going to ask a billion questions about stuff we’ve not even discussed yet, that we’re probably not even ready to talk about. He didn’t stop asking about you y’know? Y/n this, Y/n that…he kept threatening to ask you out.” 

“Oh he did” 

The car swerved slightly as Bucky's grip on the wheel tightened, his concentration lapsing for a split second. 

“He did what?” He asked, tearing his eyes from the road to glance over at you. 

“It was just a bit of harmless flirting-” You began before being cut off. 

“We flirted.” Bucky stated, his jaw clenching. 

“We also did a lot of things just friends don’t do. Relax Sarge, he only asked to get a reaction out of me.” 

Bucky grunted in response, knowing his reaction was a tad over the top but he couldn’t help it. You were his. 

“We could always mess with him in return.” You pondered as you took a swig of your drink. “Maybe hold off on telling him about us, it’s only meant to be a flying visit anyway isn’t it? So we wouldn’t have to pretend for long… play him at his own game?” 

Bucky smirked in response, completely on board with your little plan.

  The next few hours passed with the typical car games and a quick power nap as Bucky continued driving. 

“How long until you start at Starks?” 

“A month thank god, the GRC wanted me gone pretty quickly, I didn't have to work my notice which was a blessing really. I’ll schedule a day to go and clear out my desk and say my goodbyes. Will you still get your pension if we live out of the country?” 

“I’m not sure to be honest, I can pick up work wherever we are though, it wouldn’t be the first time. I’m good with my hands” 

“You’re telling me” You muttered under your breath. Bucky heard you loud and clear and let out a laugh as he recalled how you spent most of last night. “Are we crazy? Travelling with no plan, barely any money and only just starting out as a couple?” 

“Oh absolutely”

Eventually Bucky took a break from driving after you stopped for food in a roadside diner. It had been a while since you’d driven but you wanted to give Bucky the chance to get some sleep, something you knew he still struggled with. 

Despite telling him to try and get some sleep on the back seats, he remained upfront with you, doing his best to battle the drowsiness that had overcome him. He’d not gotten much rest the past few weeks, from battling the Flag Smashers in Europe, to hunting down Zemo and then back to New York. In truth he was worried he’d have a nightmare and wasn’t sure on how he’d react but upon your insistence, he tried to get some shut eye. After an hour or so he dropped off, the sound of you humming along to a song on the radio sending him off into a dreamless sleep. 

Bucky couldn’t quite believe it, he couldn’t remember the last time he slept without being haunted by memories of the Winter Soldier. Granted, he only got four hours of sleep , but it was the best he’d felt in a long time.

When it came to your turn to get some shut eye Bucky insisted on stopping over in a hotel for the night. You’d tried to convince him a motel would suffice after you lost the battle of you sleeping in the car but he was victorious. 

To be frank, after spending so many hours in the car, you were grateful to be sleeping in a bed with your super soldier by your side. 

As you slept, Bucky took the time to fire off a few emails advising he’d be ending his lease. Having slept earlier, he felt energised and was content in browsing the internet as you slept tucked into his arm. 

He did his best not to wake you as he opened a selfie from Shuri of her with Ayo and Nomble, a chuckle escaping his lips as Shuri and Nomble looked to be thoroughly enjoying themselves on a boat trip in New York whilst Ayo sulked in the background. 

He also replied to an email from his therapist's office, letting them know he’d be absent from his next session but planned on returning the following week.

Bucky was tempted to let Sam know he was coming but thought it best to surprise him.

The next day was much of the same, both of you switching the drive and stopping off at diners for food. Due to the lack of respect Bucky had for the speed limit, you were making good time and would be in Delacroix the following morning. 

“-it was like I didn’t exist. Honestly it was the most humbling experience of my life” 

“Sergeant Barnes in his uniform… now that is something I’ve got to see.” 

“Maybe one day”  

Your eyebrow perked at the thought. “Good god man” You groaned dramatically and sank further into your seat, giggling as you caught sight of the blush covering his cheeks. “For what it’s worth, lack of nutrients from the rationing clearly messed with her eyesight.” You were genuinely baffled how Peggy didn’t swoon for the man next to you.

“Where were you in the 40’s when I needed you huh?” 

“I doubt I’d have been your type” 

“Intelligent, strong woman with a great sense of humor? And thats not even mentioning your ass.. Oh no, definitely not my type” He replied sarcastically. 

“Ha ha fine, I’ll take your word for it.” 

“I’d have taken you dancing, maybe gone to a show or even the carnival. Anything you wanted.” He took your hand in his again and kissed the back of it as he pondered just how he’d of won you over back then. He usually didn't like to dwell on life before the war, the pain of losing his family and the future he lost was too much but having you in his life somehow made the memories hurt less. Having you with him now along with the future he could picture with you helped him make peace with his past life and accept that it wasn’t something he could ever go back to. 

When Steve was returning the stones, he did wonder whether he should go back with him but the realisation that there wasn’t anything waiting for him apart from a time that he didn't belong to made his decision to remain in the present resolute. And by god was he thankful he stayed.

On your way to your final hotel before arriving at Sams, you’d taken over the driving and had kept Bucky entertained with your off key singing and terrible car games. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” As it turns out, Bucky was a sore loser. 

“What? It counts!!” 

“You cannot see bacteria Y/N” 

“Yes I can! It’s right...right… right there!” You pointed to a random bit of the car interior and held back a laugh at a clearly unamused Bucky.

“You’re so full of shit” 

“How do you know I can’t see it huh? Guess it’s my turn again, I spy with my little -” 

“No” He cut off as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Absolutely not. I’m going to choose a game.” 

You let out a little smile and continued focusing on the road until the super soldier landed on something he liked. 

“Okay okay, would you rather sounds fun. Doll, would you rather have the superpower of being invisible or ability to fly.” 

“Aw come on Buck these are tame! If I have to answer, without a doubt invisibility.” 

“Not dirty enough for you sweetheart?” A tingle rang down your spine at your new nickname. “I’d have to agree, invisibility easily.” 

“Buck you’re an actual superhero, you’ve already got powers, leave some for us mere mortals!” 

“... you think I’m a superhero?” 

“....you’re literally an Avenger.” You reached across towards the man beside you, keeping your eyes on the road as you pressed your hand against his forehead. “Are you feeling okay?” 

Bucky rolled his eyes at your sarcasm and swatted your hand away from his head. “Fine you made your point.” 

You shook your head as you returned your hand to the steering wheel, tapping away to the song on the radio. 

“The rest of these questions are boring” He muttered as he furiously scrolled through his cell. 

“C’mon, go R rated” 

“It’s no fun when I already know the answers to these!” 

“Pfft doubtful, come on, hit me” 

“Spit or swallow, you’re a swallower doll.See?” 

“Okay okay! You’re right, I give in. How about we just ask each other some questions?” 

“But you already know everything,” He remarked, throwing a few cashews into his mouth. 

“When did you first see me as someone other than a friend?” You’d thrown him off guard with that question, his hand stuck in mid air as he went to throw more snacks into his mouth. 

“Wouldn't you rather know my most embarrassing sexual encounters?” He offered but was met with silence. “Fine……. I’ve never seen you as just a friend. Yes we were friends before we became more and honestly Y/n if it never progressed further than just friendship I would’ve been fine with it, more than fine with it y’know? Meeting you was the best fucking thing-” “Buck, it’s okay” Your hand reached out towards him and squeezed his thigh as you kept your eyes on the road. 

“There’s more… before we officially met in the lobby when that creep wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone, I’d seen you around. I was coming back from lunch with Yori and he was complaining about having gone for burgers instead of our usual and there you were, headphones in completely oblivious to the world and searching for your keys in your purse as usual. You were just so carefree - everything I wanted to be. And then a couple of days later we met and I was a goner.”

You bit your lip as you fought back a smile, overwhelmed by his honesty. It was a welcome feeling, knowing you weren’t the only one that felt an attraction almost immediately. 

“I’d seen you around too, before we officially met I mean. It’s kind of hard to miss you” You chuckled as you snuck a glimpse over at him and found him doing his usual glare. “It was pretty early on for me as well, do you remember when we went for coffee?” 

“And you ordered us two cups of sugar? Yeah I remember” 

“Mocha Latte’s aren’t bad for you… they just give you a bit of a buzz” 

“Especially if you order extra cream…” 

“Anyway! I’ve always been attracted to you, I’m not blind y’know but after seeing this dark looming strong man consume a drink like that, and have some residue cream left on his lower lip mind you, I just knew that it was more than just a crush. There’s something oddly charming and attractive about seeing someone so intimidating be so soft. It’s like I’m the only one who gets to see that side of you and I love it” 

Bucky didn't quite know what to say, he was slightly flustered at the compliments you were throwing at him and by the knowledge that you’d been interested far earlier than he had ever dreamed of. 

“We’re idiots aren’t we? For not realising sooner.” 

“Oh without a doubt”

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[k-s-morgan]

Will’s vs. Hannibal’s Ways of Expressing Love

The fact that Hannibal loves Will and is in love with him is openly stated in the show several times. Will’s feelings, on the other hand, are more ambiguous, which is why some viewers often doubt whether Hannibal’s love is reciprocated. I think that exploring the ways these two men experience and react to love can explain the varying degrees of their openness about it.

I’ll put TLDR right here: Hannibal is more open about himself and his feelings, including love, hence he doesn’t have many challenges with admitting it. Will is closed off, stiff, and emotionally repressed, so he expresses his feelings in a much more subtle way.

Let’s start with Hannibal. Details about his past are scarce, but we know that he admits to loving two people throughout his life, his sister and Will.

E3 of S3.

*Bedelia: What your sister made you feel was beyond your conscious ability to control or predict … I would suggest what Will Graham makes you feel is not dissimilar. A force of mind and circumstance.*    

*Hannibal: Love.*

Undoubtedly, Hannibal’s love for Mischa was traumatic and unhealthy. He loved her so much that he ate a part of her body after she was killed, devastated by this loss. But it was still love that made him feel all the related emotions, so Hannibal has some experience with it. From what we know of him, he has a very broad mind. He despises limitations and overcomes them, and he is not ashamed of who he is. He isn’t embarrassed to cry in the opera or to be the first to stand up and applaud; he delights in stereotypically ‘feminine’ hobbies like cooking and clothes selection; he draws fan-art and openly expresses his admiration when it’s due. For this reason, Hannibal doesn’t have many problems with expressing love either.  

Upon meeting Will, he is immediately drawn to him. He sees him as his potential partner and decides he wants to try and build a family with him as early as E2 of S1. That’s when he starts planting the idea of Abigail being their shared daughter in Will’s mind. He does the same to Abigail, urging her to see him and Will as her parents, even giving her shrooms to evoke the desired associations (unsuccessfully since Will doesn’t come to dinner). So, Hannibal acknowledged his pull/infatuation with Will from the very start, and he acted on it right away.

It’s not 100% love at this point, but Hannibal still easily follows his emotions. He doesn’t stop to consider how strange it is to want a family with a man he just met; he doesn’t agonize over the idea of how his life has more risks now that he allows another human being to know him. When these feelings progress at the end of S1/start of S2, Hannibal is finally taken aback. While he never planned to leave Will in prison and it was a part of his plan, he still didn’t expect to miss him so much — he admits it to Bedelia, looking forlorn, in E1 of S2. He repeatedly pines for Will by sitting in front of his chair at the time of his supposed appointment, glancing at the clock despite knowing Will is not going to come. This is a shift to an actual love, but Hannibal still doesn’t fight it. On the contrary, he embraces it, and he spends the entire S2 doing repeatedly romantic gestures for Will. Namely:

1) Protects Abigail to reunite Will with her later.

2) Shares a part of himself he doesn’t seem to have ever shared with anyone else. He talks to Will about Mischa, reveals his views on murder and God, acknowledges he cared about Abigail, and shows vulnerability. He shares his teacup ritual with him, which is something precious and deeply personal.

3) He digs up fake Freddie’s corpse and decorates it as a way of courting Will (as directly said by Alana).  

4) He draws a fan-art of himself and Will as Achilles and Patroclus.

5) He is ready to abandon his well-established life in Baltimore and reputation to run away with Will. In Hannibal’s view, no one truly suspects him and there is no evidence against him, but Will is in danger. So he’s willing to discard everything he’s been building for 20 years for him.

Finally, he calls Will a loved one more or less directly in E13 of S2 (in fact, he implies that they both love each other).

*Hannibal: Do you know what an imago is, Will? … An imago is an image of a loved one buried in the unconscious, carried with us all our lives.*

*Will: An ideal.*

*Hannibal: The concept of an ideal... I have a concept of you, just as you have a concept of me.*

Will hurts him with his betrayal, and Hannibal still finds himself unable to kill him. He is openly crying in the finale, admitting how Will hurt him, breaks his (and his own) heart by killing Abigail, and flees to Europe to start a new life. But things don’t go as he hoped they would. Bedelia is not a worthy substitute, and Hannibal is increasingly slipping into a self-destructive state because of his love for Will. He kills Anthony, who was an improved copy of Will, and turns him into a Valentine heart for him. Again, this is a very explicit and open emotional action. Hannibal doesn’t hide his feelings. He’s an emotional wreck with Bedelia in E3, and as they are talking about Will, he admits he’s in love with him.

*Hannibal: You cannot control with respect to whom you fall in love.*

Bedelia points out his self-destructiveness.

*Bedelia: You're going to get caught. It's already been set into motion … I know exactly how I will be navigating my way out of whatever it is I’ve gotten myself into. Do you?*

After Hannibal keeps spiraling and kills Sogliato, she adds: *You're drawing them to you, aren't you? All of them.*  

Hannibal gets so self-destructive over Will that he lets Jack beat himself almost to death, not even attempting to fight him. The first words he says to Will after they reunite in E6 are:

*Hannibal: If I saw you every day forever, Will, I would remember this time.*

He’s a romantic. The courtship, the Valentine heart, the romance — Hannibal did have some struggles, but overall, he accepts these feelings and isn’t afraid to act on them.

When Will pulls a knife in E6, Hannibal classifies it as another betrayal. This is where he decides to kill and eat him in the hope to put an end to this misery (which is what he and Bedelia discussed back in E3). However, even blinded by another heartbreak, Hannibal tries to save Will at the same time. He knows the police are coming and he puts off the moment of sawing for as long as he can, first fussing over Will and his wound, then waiting for Jack, then doing everything slowly as hell.

Everything changes in E7, when Hannibal faces the real risk of losing Will and comes to terms with the fact that a hope of life with him is better than life without him. So Hannibal carries Will home bridal-style, takes care of him, waits for him to wake up and writes formulas to reverse time. He directly tells Will that Will won, and that he, Hannibal, is at Will’s mercy.

*Hannibal: Your memory palace is building. It's full of new things. It shares some rooms with my own. I've discovered you there. Victorious.*

He gives himself up, sacrificing the freedom he’s been fighting for back in E2 finale, in the hope that one day, Will is going to come back to him. After this, Hannibal is all about Will, with all his heart. Throughout the second half of S3, he says things like, *“I gave you a child. You are family, Will. Was it good to see me?”*, etc. He agrees to risk his life by agreeing to Will’s plan, knowing he’s planning something but not knowing what and if he’d die in the process. In E13, Hannibal says:

*Hannibal: "No greater love hath man than to lay down his life for a friend"* and shields Will from the bullet. Later, he allows Will to push them both down, and he stays with him afterward.

Conclusion: Hannibal is very accepting of himself, so he doesn’t undergo severe challenges on the path to acknowledging what he feels for Will. He knows what love feels like because he felt it for Mischa before, so he embraces loving Will pretty quickly, even though he doesn’t know how to best approach it at times. That’s why we get direct and explicit confirmation of his feelings several times.

Now, on to Will.

Unlike with Hannibal, there is no evidence that Will has ever experienced love before (at least love for people). We know he had a father and was lonely as a child.

E4 of S1.

*Will: We were poor. I followed my father from the boat yards in Biloxi and Greenville to lake boats on Erie.*

*Hannibal: Always the new boy at school? Always the stranger?*

*Will: Always.*

His choice of words indicates that his relationship with his father wasn’t all that good (for instance, *I followed my father* instead of *My father and I had to…*). So, it doesn’t look like Will ever had meaningful connections. More than that, he says:

*Will: There’s something so foreign about family. Like an ill-fitting suit. Never connected to the concept.*

We can suggest that he doesn’t know what love is or how it feels like. From E1, we know he isolates himself because he hates himself for who he is: he understands he’s different, that there is darkness in him, but he desperately tries to subdue it and deny this fact. He’s rude, twitchy, and unhappy, but like Hannibal, he understands the extent of his loneliness only upon meeting him. That’s when he tries forming relationships with others.

Will’s relationships with Alana and Abigail are a good indication of his problems with love. He wants to be with Alana because he needs to feel normal. In 99% of cases, he remembers about her only when she comes to seek him out first. He kisses her for the first time at the moment of particular vulnerability, fearing that he’s finally losing his mind (in E8). When Hannibal calls him out on it, Will doesn’t deny it and semi-nods. He actually had to agree with it verbally according to the script.

*Will: I feel unstable.*

*Hannibal: That’s why you kissed her. A clutch for balance.*

*Will: Because I’m losing mine.*

So, it’s not that Will feels romantic love for Alana — he uses her because he desperately needs to feel like everyone else. Alana is a pretty, smart, normal woman who fits this goal perfectly. He doesn’t allow himself to be genuine with her unlike he does with Hannibal, to whom he opens up.

Will confesses to Hannibal that he loved killing Hobbs in E2, which got him down and made him panic. Hannibal supports him, and Will keeps coming back to him. He talks about everything important with Hannibal, opening parts of himself that he guards from everyone else. Will asks Hannibal to look after his dogs as early as E4 — he doesn’t have other friends, and he’s already focused on Hannibal. He buys into an idea of having a family with him and Abigail, which is amazing for Will, who has just said he could never relate to the concept of family.

When Will buys a gift for Abigail in the same E4 and freaks out, Hannibal asks him:

*Hannibal: Feeling paternal, Will?*

Will’s reaction is instant and defensive:

*Will: Aren’t you?*

Hannibal easily says “yes”, which disarms Will. This is a great contrast between them: Hannibal isn’t afraid to talk and acknowledge his feelings while Will is embarrassed of them and shies away from them. In fact, this is a repeat of their conversation in E2.

*Hannibal: You saved Abigail Hobbs' life. You also orphaned her. It comes with certain emotional obligations.*

*Will: You were there. You saved her life, too. Do you feel obligated?*

Again, Will deflects. He’s wary of emotions, especially of admitting them out loud.

Will shows a hint of romantic interest in Hannibal in E7. He brings him a bottle of wine out of blue, but unfortunately, he stumbles upon the party Hannibal is preparing. Hannibal invites him to stay, but Will says he won’t be good company. He’s shy and awkward, smiling nervously and dropping his gaze in embarrassment. Then we have this lovely line:

*Will: I’ve got a date with the Chesapeake Ripper.*

So, in S1, Will makes considerable emotional progress. He realizes he wants a family after all, and while he makes several half-hearted attempts to court Alana, he’s mostly focused on Hannibal and Abigail. He opens himself up to Hannibal, receives official guardianship over Abigail with him, arguably flirts with Hannibal (like in the wine scene above), and covers up murder to protect their family. But then Hannibal betrays him. Will doesn’t know his reasons yet, but this betrayal plunged him into darkness, bitterness, and new stage of emotional repression. It’s worth mentioning another point of Abigail here: in the end, Will doesn’t know her. He spoke to her only several times, and even fewer times were genuine. He loves the idea of her, and this idea was introduced by Hannibal, not by Abigail’s presence. It’s Hannibal who forced Will to confront his need to love and be loved.  

In S2, Will is incredibly conflicted. He acknowledges to Hannibal that he hurt him, tries to kill him via Matthew, but when he recognizes that Hannibal wants him as a friend (as spoken in E7), his attitude changes. Will doesn’t plan to forgive him, he’s still angry at Hannibal for killing Abigail (which is his biggest conflict, as evident from his talks with Hannibal himself and Freddie), but now, he can’t bring himself to harm or betray Hannibal.

He gets his first chance in E7, after being released from prison. He threatens Hannibal with a gun and has a perfect chance to make him pay, but he doesn’t. Instead, he conspires with Jack and decides to cultivate co-dependency, creating an environment where only he “and the fish exist” (E8). What does Will do to start? He makes himself physically attractive, grooming and dressing prettily. It’s a seduction on all levels, and Will plans to use emotions to hurt Hannibal back. At the same time, Will admits to being confused over what he feels for Hannibal.

E8 of S2.

*Will: I envy you your hate. Makes it much easier when you know how to feel.*

E9 of S2 (talking about trying to kill Hannibal with Margot).

*Margot: Did he have it coming?*

*Will: What do you think?*

*Margot: I can't say that I know.*

*Will: Neither can I.*

He spends the rest of the season lying to both Hannibal and Jack, unsure whose side to choose, too lost in his own feelings to make sense of them. At the same time, he has a dream where Hannibal calls him beloved in E9. It shows that Will contemplates the idea of love in relation to Hannibal. In E10, Will tries to fantasize about Alana as he’s having sex with Margot. However, he sees the image of Wendigo near the fireplace, Wendigo who he’s used to associating with Hannibal. Two interesting things (copied from my other meta): first, Will actually sees Hannibal’s room and consequently, he sees himself in it (or he sees their rooms united). Second, he sees the Wendigo near Hannibal’s fireplace. Fireplace has many meanings, including passion, sexuality, home, family, and resurrection. It emphasizes the sexual and romantic subtext of this uniquely shot scene, where people destined to be together have sex with the wrong partners. Will’s vision begins to contract, focusing on Wendigo: he is having an orgasm at this very moment, imagining the Wendigo’s face very close, approaching him. Still through the misty eyes, he tries to focus on Alana again, but his gaze moves up to Wendigo above her, as if he can’t help himself. He and Hannibal reach orgasm first, with Alana and Margot following them. So, Will dragged Hannibal into his sex fantasy. It’s both symbolic and physical: he tried to imagine Alana just like he tried to have a relationship with her before, in S1, out of his desire to be normal. But his attention is inevitably drawn to Hannibal, who’s his “real deal”.

Based on this scene, it’s underlined once again how Will struggles with emotions. Even in the safety of his own mind, in his own fantasy, he tries to think of Alana but still ends up with Hannibal. Will is always fighting himself and who he is. He refuses to accept his darkness just as he refuses to admit he loves Hannibal. It’s the essence of who he is, denial is his second name.

Among the important moments, there are Will’s words to Hannibal:

*Will: You are right. We are just alike. You are as alone as I am. And we are both alone without each other.*

So, Will accepts the bond with Hannibal, and at this stage, he even has the courage to voice some of his emotional thoughts. His progress is slow, but it’s there.

In E11, Will has a nightmare. He sees a burning corpse of ‘Freddie’ in a wheelchair, a symbol of his betrayal of Hannibal, and he hears his own increasing screaming. It’s easy to interpret, knowing the context: Will feels guilty for lying to Hannibal.

When Margot loses her child, Will feels renewed anger at Hannibal. He fantasizes about killing him and gets to realize his fantasy with Mason’s help in E12. But at the last moment, Will changes his mind and chooses Hannibal. He does the same thing in E13 by calling him. When he sees him, he doesn’t even try to point a gun at him: he asks why he didn’t leave as he was supposed to, and he even leans forward to accept the knife, accept the punishment for betrayal.

So, Will chooses Hannibal over Abigail, for whom he wanted justice; over his and Margot’s child, for whom he wanted revenge; over Jack and Alana, who were his only semblance of friends; over his own confusion and desire to be normal. For someone as emotionally stunted as Will, it’s huge. It proves that he loves Hannibal and is willing to compromise all other relationships he has formed as well his own beliefs for him (while Will is dark, he tries to fight it because he doesn’t think people like them are normal). Is it romantic? Will’s dream with the word “beloved” and his sex fantasy, as well as his acceptance of the idea that he and Hannibal were Abigail’s fathers (which makes them partners) imply that yes, romantic feeling is a part of it.

Hannibal’s romantic feelings became explicit in S3, and so did Will’s. But since Hannibal is more open and self-accepting, his were discussed out loud while Will’s were mostly portrayed silently, implied, and alluded to.

Will builds a boat to sail and find Hannibal, which is pretty romantic by itself. He spends his time in Hannibal’s house, in the kitchen where their bloody break-up happened, imagining Abigail near him. When Alana comes to find him, he asks her to leave. He’s cold and indifferent toward her — she’s not what he wants, and he’s not interested in even friendship with her. All he wants is to mourn his lost family with Hannibal and Abigail. Again, Hannibal is Will’s priority.

Will imagines his perfect world as the one where he and Hannibal killed Jack together. This scene is intercut with his Mizumono memories, namely, with Hannibal's face that emerges every time he moves yet another part of the engine. This is a vivid demonstration of Will trying to repair what is now broken. When Jack asks him why he called him, Will is indifferent and genuine:

*Will: I wasn't decided when I called him. I just called him. I deliberated while the phone rang. I decided when I heard his voice … I told him to leave. I wanted him to run … Because he was my friend. And because I wanted to run away with him.*

That’s a big admission for Will. This is the first time he openly acknowledges Hannibal as his friend in front of another person. Chilton calls Will and Hannibal’s interactions a “flirtation” in this episode, which once again points us in the romantic direction.

The entire E2 of S3 is dedicated to Will’s love for Hannibal, where he argues about it with himself in the form of imaginary Abigail. This is another proof of Will’s problem with emotions in general and emotions for Hannibal in particular. He can’t just think to himself as normal people do — no, he can’t admit how much he loves Hannibal this. Instead, he imagines Abigail and talks to himself through her to make it easier. He berates himself for lying.

*Will/Abigail: We were all supposed to leave together. He made a place for us. Why did you lie to him? He gave you a chance to take it all back, and you just kept lying.*

Will is reverent about Hannibal; he keeps talking about him over and over again.

*Will: This isn't Hannibal, it's just where he begins. Beyond this, far and complex, light and dark, is the vast structure of his mind. A thousand rooms, miles of corridors. Everything he remembers, wonderfully and fearfully reconstructed.*

Will goes as far as lies at the place where Hannibal’s Valentine heart for him was, reconstructing this image and trying to feel close to him. The heart comes to life the moment Will touches it, which is romantic. Will says:

*Will: A valentine written on a broken man … I do feel closer to Hannibal here. God only knows where I would be without him … He left us his broken heart … He misses us.*

He looks on the verge of tears, so Hannibal’s gift touched him. Will is overcome by emotions. At this very moment, his more frightened side suggests that Hannibal is also playing with him.

*Will: Hannibal follows several trains of thought at once without distraction from any, and one of the trains is always for his own amusement.*

We know it’s not the case, especially here, but Will has trust issues and a low self-esteem. He’s worried that Hannibal’s feelings for him aren’t as strong as he thinks they are, which is why he’s not sure how to react himself. He asks himself, *“You still want to go with him?”* and replies, *“Yes.” He wonders about what life they’d have if they left.

*Will: What if no one died? What if we all left together? Like we were supposed to. After he served the lamb. Where would we have gone? … In some other world.*

Pazzi comes and tells Will that he hopes they’ll catch Hannibal together.

*Will: What makes you think I want to catch him?*

Later, Pazzi says:

*Pazzi: He let you know him. He sent you his heart.*

E2 ends with Will scaring Pazzi and telling him, *“You don’t know whose side I’m on.* Then he tells Hannibal he forgives him, which is also a huge step in his direction.

This entire episode proves that yes, Will loves Hannibal. Considering how he isn’t awkward from receiving a Valentine or hearing that Hannibal gave him his heart, Will shares the romantic aspect of Hannibal’s feelings for him. He regrets not running away with him and their daughter, he places himself on the floor where the heart was to feel closer to him — this is such a rich romantic subtext that it’s practically text. Especially for Will, who remains so conflicted and emotionally restrained all the time.

Will’s attitude changes after seeing Chiyoh. He becomes more bitter. Considering how dark he is in these scenes and how he constantly compares himself and Chiyoh, he likely sees her as someone Hannibal was supposed to love but easily abandoned. It makes Will draw the parallels between them, and he starts to doubt that Hannibal loves him, that his “broken heart” has any authentic meaning. That’s where he starts thinking about killing Hannibal again. He still says:

*Will: I’ve never known myself as well as I know myself when I’m with him.*

This line also speaks volumes. Hannibal gave Will a precious gift of understanding himself; he showed that he could accept him, and Will is drawn to it. Will admits the depth of their connection to yet another person. Then he makes a firefly from Chiyoh’s prisoner, a tribute that is clearly done with Hannibal in his mind, considering the style and the central topic.

Chiyoh sees right through Will’s emotional constipation. She implies that he should “kiss” Hannibal rather than keep being “violent”:

*Chiyoh: I told you, there are means of influence other than violence.*

She kisses Will then, thus showing him what others means exist. He doesn’t get it, though, since he responds to her kiss despite not feeling anything for her, and she pushes him off the train, likely admitting he’s a hopeless case.

Meeting Jack, Will tells him that a part of him will always want to leave with Hannibal. This is yet another declaration from him. Will isn’t scared of the consequences — he speaks of his feelings openly now. It’s a great development of his character.

But the feeling of doubt about Hannibal likely resurfaces further after Will sees that Hannibal replaced him and Abigail with Bedelia in E6 (hence his hatred for her since that moment). He mocks her alibi and then leaves to reunite with Hannibal. The following moment was deleted, but it still discloses some of Will’s romantic feelings:

*Will: I looked up at the night sky there. Orion above the horizon and, near it, Jupiter. I wondered if you could see it, too. I wondered if our stars were the same.*

From the words that did get into the episode:

*Will: You and I have begun to blur ... We're conjoined. Curious if either of us can survive separation.*

Will doesn’t just admit the bond between them, he elevates it the level of soulmates, implying they are one and the same. It’s also a declaration of love in his language. But love doesn’t stop Will from being vindictive, hurt, and angry, so after meetings with Chiyoh and Bedelia that affected his perception, he pulls out a knife as he and Hannibal are walking together.

There is a brain-sawing disaster after this and E7, where Will looks done and tired from the madness and his constant attempts to figure Hannibal out. He does bite Cordell before looking at Hannibal, seeking his approval; he uses “we” pronouns when speaking about Hannibal with Alana. One example:

*Will: You helped Mason Verger find us.*

So, he still sees himself and Hannibal as a team, but he’s still tired and bitter, so after everything is over, he hurts Hannibal by saying he doesn’t share his appetite and by attacking him emotionally.

*Will: I miss my dogs. I'm not going to miss you. I'm not going to find you. I'm not going to look for you. I don't want to know where you are or what you do. I don't want to think about you anymore.*

This is all personal and emotional. It sounds like a break-up, which is exactly how Bryan Fuller and others referred to it. When Hannibal leaves and Jacks arrives, Will puts on his glasses, an indication that he’s hiding again.

Fast-forward 3 years. Will is married now, but from the very start, we see that this marriage isn’t all people usually expect it to be. The first scene shows the family apart. Molly and Walter have gone fishing, which is something Will loves. He had dreams about teaching Abigail how to fish, but he doesn’t go to do that with his family, preferring to stay alone instead. It’s the first hint that his heart isn’t in this relationship, that he’s too hung up on the past to move forward and make new happy memories.

Jack came to drag him to Dragon’s case, and Will makes it look like he’s reluctant. At the same time, he doesn’t send Jack away, even though we know from the past that he has no qualms being frank when he wants to. More than that, he asks him not to show pics to Molly, but when they have dinner, Will deliberately leaves the house with Walter, leaving Jack and Molly together. At night, when Molly’s asleep, he crawls out of bed and goes to read Hannibal’s letter. He doesn’t tell the truth to Molly about himself and his dark urges, about everything he has done – Molly clearly has no idea who he truly is, considering how she jokes about his ‘criminal mind’ in later episodes and how Will immediately closes himself off from her. He never initiates physical touches with her; he doesn’t return her “I love you”, which is an even bigger indication of his lack of commitment. Will is emotionally stiff with Molly for the most part, and the only times he laughs with her or shows any emotion is when they are talking about superficial stuff in the former case and when he’s furious after Francis’ attack in the latter one. Other than that, there is no closeness or honesty.

Another point of Will’s inability to express or even give his love to someone is in his scene with Walter in E11. This child, his step-son, has just been attacked by a serial killer with his mother. His mother was hurt and they barely escaped. Will doesn’t hug him or offer him paternal emotional comfort; he’s very awkward. All he says is, “You're both safe here,” which is something an officer might say but not a father. Will was much more emotional in his fantasies about Abigail.

This is what Will says about Walter’s reaction to Jack:

*Will: He read about me in a Freddie Lounds article. I had to justify myself to an eleven year old.*

He’s resentful and not emotional. He doesn’t say, “I had to justify myself to my son!” – he distances himself from him. Will is cold. He has expressed his feelings for Hannibal at this point in rather poetic ways, but he can’t be bothered to do this for his wife and his son.

He treats Hannibal in a very reserved fashion too, in comparison to how he acted 3 years ago. However: first, there is the fact that he came to visit him in the first place. Will didn’t need his help, we saw very clearly how he managed to easily reconstruct the crime scene the night before. It proved that his mindset is in a good shape, so he didn’t need Hannibal’s assistance. But it’s Hannibal he requested to see right away.

Will distances himself from him by calling him “Doctor Lecter” and insisting that he’s more comfortable the less personal they are. His eyes glisten, though, and he can’t look away from Hannibal. The impersonal approach doesn’t last very long, too, and soon, they are talking like they always did. Hannibal accuses Will of marrying for false reasons.

*Hannibal: How did you choose yours? Readymade wife and child to serve your needs. A stepson or daughter. A stepson absolves you of any biological blame. You know better than to breed. Can't pass on those terrible traits you fear the most.*

Will doesn’t bother to deny it, though any man would have been offended, particularly if he truly loved his family. In Will’s case, from the experience and all the precedents, silence = agreement.

In E10, Will seeks Bedelia out. He acts catty and jealous, targeting her personal connection with Hannibal.

*Will: You didn't lose yourself, Bedelia, you just crawled so far up his ass you couldn't be bothered.* - personal, targeted against Bedelia's attachment to Hannibal.

*Will: You hitched your star to a man commonly known as a monster. You're the Bride of Frankenstein.* - personal, attack with romantic connotation. Bedelia catches up on it and mocks him:

*Bedelia: We've both been his bride. Have you been to see him?*

*Will: Yes.*

*Bedelia: Haven't learned anything, have you? Or did you just miss him that much?*

*Will: Have you been to see him?* - personal again. Will wants to know if Bedelia is keeping contact with Hannibal.

*Bedelia: I've seen enough of him. I was with him behind the veil. You were always on the other side.*

*Will: Something we should talk about.* - again, personal. It's all personal, which is why Bryan and Hugh called them Hannibal's jealous bitchy exes. Will is palpably jealous and he shows his resentment to Bedelia openly.

Later, we have some more romantic references.

*Bedelia: My relationship with Hannibal is not as passionate as yours. You are here visiting old flame. Is your wife aware of how intimately you and Hannibal know each other? … Your experience of Hannibal’s attention is so profoundly harmful yet so irresistible, it undermines your ability to think rationally.*

So, there is romantic text, parallels between Hannibal and Will’s wife, and Will doesn’t deny any of this again. He keeps coming to Bedelia because she’s the only person he can talk about Hannibal to without being watched.

After Hannibal sends Francis after Molly and Walter, Will spends about a minute being angry with him. Then he accuses Hannibal of staging a competition between him and Francis. It is startling: Will spent months, years mourning the loss of Abigail who he didn’t even really know personally, yet he forgets the gravity of what happened to his wife and won very quickly. He leaves Molly and Walter and tells Bedelia that they are finished. One traumatic event, and Will left. It coincides with something very important that happened here: after this, Will finally figures out Hannibal is truly in love with him. So he goes to Bedelia to discuss it with her.

*Will: Is Hannibal in love with me?*

*Bedelia: Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you, and find nourishment at the very sight of you? Yes. But do you ache for him?*

Will is predictably silent. Obviously, if the answer was no, he would have said no. But he struggles because like we established, he has issues with expressing emotions. He only managed to start referring to Hannibal as his friend openly in this season, opening up about some of his feelings, but he’s not ready to go this far. It would be absolutely out of character for Will to say, “Yes, you know, I’m in love with him! Thanks for helping me see it.” Every confession Will makes is preceded by struggles and heartbreak. But he’s going to reply to Bedelia’s question, only not explicitly-verbally.

Will sets up Chilton and then comes to allegedly say good-bye to Hannibal. He lies several times in their conversation (about Chilton and Molly with Walter), so all his words are automatically suspicious. Regardless, he destroys Hannibal emotionally and walks away. Personally, I believe he was already planning to break him out, so he was playing it up for cameras and also taking a chance to hurt Hannibal for everything again. But whatever his plan was, what happens next is that Will conspires with Francis against Jack, Alana, and the FBI. They agree to break Hannibal out together. Will lies to Jack and then gets to ask Hannibal for help. He’s being flirty and manipulative in this scene.

*Will: I need you, Hannibal … You're our best shot, Hannibal. Please.*

He’s smirking, he leans close to Hannibal, he sends him a flirty look from under his eyelashes. Will is thoroughly enjoying himself, and he does it best when he has some excuse to hide behind.

Later, he lies to Jack and Alana again, leaks info to Francis (who nearly killed his wife and son), and gets many officers killed by proxy. He tells Bedelia the truth that he doesn’t “intend Hannibal to be caught a second time.” He also implies that he’s going to let him go free, which is why Bedelia should pack her bags.

*Bedelia: Can't live with him. Can't live without him. Is that what this is?*

This time, Will agrees, although in his way.

*Will: I guess this is my Becoming.*

For Will, Becoming was always connected to his feelings for Hannibal because accepting himself and his darkness meant being free to escape with Hannibal.

*Bedelia: You found religion. Nothing more dangerous than that.*

In E3, it was stated that love is a God (you can find more here https://www.reddit.com/r/HannibalTV/comments/7w54dg/lovegodreligion_s3_parallels/), so it’s possible to say that religion = love in this context. It certainly makes sense. Will is accepting himself and his emotions, and the trigger was establishing for sure that Hannibal is in love with him.

Will and Hannibal drive to the cliff house. When Hannibal asks Will if he intends to save himself by killing them both (Hannibal and Francis), Will replies:

*Will: I don't know if I can save myself. And maybe that's just fine.*

This is the first time he confesses that he might be incapable of killing Hannibal. Predictably, when Francis comes, Will can’t handle seeing Hannibal killed, so he reaches for his gun.

Will and Hannibal work as a unit and protect each other. Hannibal is shot, nearly strangled, thrown onto the ground, and he is still weakly holding on Francis' leg to prevent him from going after Will, even though it leaves him in an open and vulnerable position — Francis does kick him in the face with his other leg. There is fierce determination on Will's face as he stands up despite the pain and runs to save Hannibal. They act in synch, consummating their relationship.

Then, Will admires how blood looks on his hand and repeats Hannibal’s words:

*Will: It really does look black in the moonlight.*

He remembers the words Hannibal said to him weeks ago in one of their endless interactions. A bit earlier, he perfectly recalled the words Hannibal told him *years* ago, back in the middle of S2.

*Will: I understand that “blood and breath are only elements undergoing change to fuel your Radiance." Hannibal said those words. To me.*

So, Will remembers everything Hannibal told him. He stores these memories. It’s a small but still important proof how important Hannibal is for him.

At the cliff, Will finally accepts the truth.

*Hannibal: See. This is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us.*

We know what Hannibal wanted: a Murder Husband. What does Will say to this?

*Will: It’s beautiful.*

This is a loud “yes” to Bedelia’s question about his feelings. Will acknowledges, accepts, and admires them. He doesn’t feel awkward, as he would if he knew Hannibal is in love with him but didn’t feel the same. No, he reaches forward to embrace him, and such physical contact from Will is mind-blowing because he almost never does it. He clings to Hannibal, puts his head on his shoulder, touches him as if he wants to melt with him. Then he gives the fate a chance to stop both of them or to set them free. They fall into the ocean under the Love Crime song, another romantic element.

Water symbolizes reborn, and post-credits scene indicates that Will and Hannibal have paid a visit to Bedelia and are in the process of eating her while she’s hiding the fork to stab one of them as he approaches. The deleted epilogue to the series shows that they are in perfect harmony now.

**Conclusion**: Will has passed through a long, painful journey. He went from hiding from emotions and deflecting to not denying and carefully acknowledging them. We don’t hear words “love” or “in love” from him in relation to Hannibal because Will is not that kind of person. He doesn’t use these words freely, and for him, every small emotional step is a struggle. He tried to deceive himself and other numerous times; he tied to deny the truth and manipulate his own mind, but with each season, his feelings for Hannibal became more and more explicit. Will reaching out for physical contact, Will saying “It’s beautiful” are his way of saying, “I ached for you. I love you.”

This is a story of mutual love and obsession, about soulmates, about unique type of connection that few people share. It’s not about Hannibal falling in love and Will not feeling the same. Their feelings are equally strong, but they express them differently, particularly as Will’s are tied to the acceptance of his own darkness.

[geeeooorrrge]

And Everything In Between - a Paulo Dybala/Alvaro Morata fanfic

Title is from Adventure Of A Lifetime by Coldplay.

Chapter list and summary | Read on AO3

CHAPTER 41 – EVERYTHING YOU WANT’S A DREAM AWAY

Juventus’ loss against Hellas Verona was quickly forgotten when it was time for them to receive their Scudetto one week later.

It helped that the trophy presentation came right after a thumping win against Sampdoria. Everyone was just so hyped. The fans were noisier. They even cheered a little when Paulo scored his penalty, though it was still a little subdued. The cheers got louder after Paulo’s second goal, and shit. Paulo was so happy he felt like he could cry.

“You hear that?” Alvaro said as Paulo ran to the bench to give him a hug and a kiss. “They’re cheering for you!”

“Yeah,” Paulo said softly. They were still cheering, even though he had just kissed Alvaro in front of them. The cheers had decreased slightly in amplitude, but. But Paulo was taking it. “Alvi.”

“I love you, Paulo.”

“Me, too,” Paulo mouthed as he tracked back to the centre circle. He blew Alvaro a kiss. He felt like. Like he could never take his eyes off Alvaro.

He wished Alvaro would get the same sort of treatment from the fans, too.

But he gave Alvaro a huge kiss when they were substituted for each other, and no one booed, so Paulo took that, too.

He met Alvaro again in the tunnel when they were preparing for the presentation. He ran straight up to Alvaro and snuggled up against his side, sliding his hand in Alvaro’s and half hooking their arms together. He was being clingy as fuck, but. But he couldn’t not be. Paulo wanted to be as close to Alvaro as he could get. He felt like if he let go of Alvaro, either one of them would break into little tiny pieces.

“Maybe you’re too young to count, but 9 is nowhere near 21,” Alvaro remarked.

“I’m not too young to count, fuck you,” Paulo said. “I just want to hold your hand.”

Alvaro laughed fondly. “Hey,” he said. “Have you ever. Ever thought that this day would happen?”

“Like us winning the league together?” Paulo asked.

“Yeah.”

“No,” Paulo whispered. He saw the smile on Alvaro’s face morph from affectionate to nostalgic. And then proud. “I still think this is a dream, you know?”

“Me, too,” Alvaro confessed. “I thought…I don’t know. Paulo. Wow, the universe really pushed us together, didn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Paulo smiled. “I can’t believe that…that I made it to Europe. And not only that, I made it to Europe to play with you. I just. I don’t know. I’m so glad we found our way back together.”

“We made it big, Pau,” Alvaro gave Paulo’s hand a little squeeze. “We made it fucking big.”

“I never thought it would happen. I never thought we would get to play together. It’s just. There are thousands of clubs to play for in Europe. And the one that had you – the one that had you, it wanted me, too.”

“And after all these years,” Alvaro whispered. “After all these fucking years and you’re still fucking here, Paulo, you’re still here and when you came to Juve you were still my best friend and I didn’t have to say I only knew you from this dumb training camp a thousand years ago.”

“Alvaro,” Paulo pushed his face into Alvaro’s shoulder. “This…this isn’t a dream, yeah? This is real. This is real.”

“I don’t know. Will you pinch me?”

So Paulo pinched him, earning himself a loud yelp and a smack on the arm. “You told me to pinch you,” he pointed out.

“Not so hard!”

“So is it real?”

“I don’t know,” Alvaro said. “All I know is, when I first met you, I never thought that this would be possible. I never dared to imagine it. Never.”

Paulo smiled. He pressed a lingering kiss on Alvaro’s lips, one that left the both of them breathless despite its simplicity.

And then Paul and Simone popped up behind them, and Paul said, “I don’t know what kind of math you two did in school, but 9 is nowhere near 21.”

“I tried telling him that,” Alvaro said. “He desperately wants to join the top 10.”

And that was how Paulo got so unceremoniously kicked out of the dumb, self-proclaimed top 10. He made his way to the back of the line and wedged himself into the space between Padoin and Asamoah. He watched the three of them from where he was, the 7, 9, and 10 on their backs moving around as they continued laughing and nudging and teasing each other. They looked happy. Alvaro looked happy.

Paul gave a backward glance towards Paulo before elbowing Alvaro in the ribs and whispering something in his ear. It made Alvaro turn back with a slight pink blush on his face, and fuck. Paulo bet Paul had gone and said something dirty.

But Alvaro flashed a huge charming smile at Paulo, one that almost knocked his socks off – as well as his pants and underwear and every other piece of clothing – and Paulo couldn’t help but smile back. It grew into a laugh when Alvaro blew a kiss at him and Simone and Paul pretended to barf.

Paulo held his breath when Alvaro headed outside as his name was called. He closed his eyes, bracing himself. Bracing himself for boos.

But what came was the opposite.

The stands below which they were standing exploded into loud cheers when Alvaro appeared. Maybe Paulo had just set the bar really low, but. But they were louder than he remembered. They were almost as loud as Simone’s cheers.

Paulo turned to the little TV they had and saw fans waving Spanish flags and huge posters of Alvaro.

And he saw Alvaro run along the blue carpet with this dazzling smile on his face, amazed and proud and just so utterly surprised at all the support he was receiving. He turned to his and Paulo’s families, standing in the pitch-side crowd, and waved at them. He waved at all his adoring fans. He belonged here. He belonged in Turin.

And Paulo promptly burst into tears and attracted the attention of everyone wearing the numbers between 15 and 25.

“Oh, my God,” Paulo whispered, clapping his hands over his face as everyone surrounded him in a hug, murmurs of encouragement and disbelief and pure confusion all mixing together. They all wrapped him up tightly like he was a little puppy needing shelter from a storm, some of them trickling away when their numbers were called.

And right then, right in that moment, Paulo realised Isco had been right.

The people who stayed were the ones who truly mattered. The ones who were worth it.

And Paulo and Alvaro still had so many of these people to fight for. To continue playing for. The people who still treated the both of them as human beings, as footballers, just as they had been before coming out. The people who placed trust in them that they could still produce the same performances because they were footballers above all. The people who minded, the people who thought that they deserved hate – they would get tired and leave. They would slowly be filtered out once they realised that this truly wasn’t the thing for them. The haters wouldn’t be there when it mattered the most. But these people who stayed. These people would. These people were the ones that counted. And soon, these good ones were going to be the only ones left, and they would be the only ones who mattered.

Paulo wiped his tears before his name and number were called. He got a final hug from Asa, Daniele, and Neto as he was given his cue to start walking.

And he burst onto the pitch to the same loud cheering that Alvaro had been warranted, the same rapturous applause and screaming of his name. The same kind of huge posters and Argentine flags waved in the air. The same loving and proud look from his and Alvaro’s families. From Alvaro, who was standing on the podium and clapping so earnestly Paulo was afraid he would get blisters on his hands.

For those few seconds, Paulo felt like he truly belonged here again. He was their top scorer. Their golden boy. La Joya. He was the pride of Córdoba. He was the amazing footballer his dad had intended him to be. He had spent his entire life fighting for this, and he had gotten all of it. He had everything – two loving and accepting families, supportive and understanding fans, a European league trophy and medal, and the love of his life. Paulo was on top of the world.

He gleefully accepted his medal and hopped down the stairs. He found himself drifting towards the little clique Alvaro, Paul, and Simone had formed at the other side.

The stadium went quiet waiting for Asa’s name to be called, but the announcer said nothing for the next few seconds. And then, suddenly ringing across the stadium, “Since everybody seems to be looking out for the same thing, Asamoah can wait until Paulo finds his way to Alvaro and kisses him.”

Everyone burst into loud laughter and shit, Paulo was so fucking embarrassed. His teammates formed two lines in front of him, nudging him in between them and towards Alvaro, who was waiting shyly at the other end.

Paulo dipped his head and brisk-walked through the little victory parade his teammates were giving him. He got to Alvaro in almost no time at all, diving right into his open arms and planting a huge kiss on Alvaro’s lips. He vaguely heard the stadium burst into more cheers, more softly than when he’d come out of the tunnel like they weren’t completely sure that they were supposed to react this way, but. But they were cheering and it was everything Paulo had ever wanted.

“Love you,” Alvaro whispered in between pecks. “Champion.”

Paulo smiled. He tiptoed a little to gain better access, completely forgetting for a moment that literally millions of people were watching them until their teammates all started giving coordinated ‘whoa, whoa, whoa’s and forming a protective shield around them, preventing the stadium and cameras from seeing them in case, you know, they got carried away.

“It’s getting a little R-21 in here!” Paul yelled.

“Paulo, Alvaro, there are hundreds of little children watching you so it’s supposed to be quite a PG environment around here, and that’s pushing it,” the stadium announcer said cheerily.

Everyone burst into laughter again, and the audience gave a few friendly loud hoots before everyone calmed down and Asamoah’s name was called. Well, everyone calmed down except Paulo and Alvaro.

“This can’t be real,” Alvaro said, his hand warm in Paulo’s. When Paulo turned to him, he had this awestruck look on his face, which was still a little flushed. “Paulo. Is this real?”

“You know what?” Paulo asked. “I don’t even care anymore. Even if this isn’t real, even if this is just a really, really nice long dream. I’m going to take it. I don’t want to waste another moment wondering if it’s real. Because if it is, then it’s the best thing that could ever happen – but if it isn’t, then I’ve just had the best dream ever so I’m not complaining.”

Alvaro smiled. He turned to the little Spanish corner with the ‘Morata 9’ flags and posters. They burst into cheers when he gave them a little wave. “Yeah,” he said. “You’re right.”

They stood there hand in hand until the last name was called, taking in every single drop of this victory. A victory for the team, but all in all the biggest victory in Paulo and Alvaro’s lives.

Paulo lifted the trophy for the first time with his Alvaro. It made him believe that, despite all the shit life had a tendency to throw at people, dreams did come true. Because Paulo was living one.

------

The team had a week to get all the wild out of them before the Coppa Italia final, so they made use of it. They all took turns to drink from the cup and everyone – including Alvaro – took much amusement in trying to make Paulo drunk, and they were all bigger and stronger and had no trouble at all hoisting the huge trophy around and literally pouring beer into Paulo’s mouth. Alvaro spent most of the time egging everyone on and then laughing fondly as Paulo tried to stomach all the beer.

Paulo woke up the next morning feeling like his head was going to vibrate its way off his shoulders.

He rolled over in bed with a loud groan and met a laughing Alvaro, still gazing fondly at him.

“What the fuck you laughing at?” Paulo asked, and regretted it immediately because each word sent a sharp pain shooting through his head.

“You don’t hold liquor very well,” Alvaro said.

Paulo thought back about all the stupid shit he’d done while he was drunk. Blurting out his feelings to Alvaro. Threesome with Franco. Helping Alvaro break up with Mia. “Never have,” he said softly.

Alvaro reached over to the bedside table and grabbed the glass of water and painkillers sitting on it. He held Paulo half upright as he fed them to him, and then gently lay Paulo back down.

“I’ll cook you a nice breakfast,” Alvaro said.

“No need,” Paulo said slowly so he wouldn’t trigger his headache. “I just gotta puke. And sleep some more.”

So Alvaro fetched a bucket and a towel and let Paulo puke it all out. He sat behind Paulo and leaned his cheek on Paulo’s back, and it was comforting even though Paulo was already warm and sweaty as fuck.

“Fuck,” Paulo sighed as he finished round one. He wiped his mouth with the towel as he lay back down. His head was beginning to spin so he closed his eyes. “Did I do anything dumb while I was drunk?”

“Well…” Alvaro said, trailing off. He started to laugh again.

“What?” Paulo asked.

“There’s this video,” Alvaro started again.

“What video?”

“A sex tape,” Alvaro said with a straight face, and when Paulo glared at him so hard his head almost exploded, started laughing again. “Fuck, no, it’s this thing I did.”

“Is it embarrassing?” Paulo groaned.

Alvaro searched through his phone for the video and passed it to Paulo. He sat there sniggering to himself as the video loaded. It was quite shaky, but very clear, and it was a video of Paulo and Alvaro with the trophy in between them.

It started off with Alvaro glancing at the person holding the phone and nodding to make sure he was being recorded. He turned to Paulo. “Pau, let’s take a photo of us kissing the cup.”

Paulo just. Just stared at him for a few moments, like he needed that long to decipher what Alvaro was saying. And then he giggled. He giggled. “Yeah, ‘kay.”

Alvaro pointed to the part of the cup where Paulo should put his lips on. Paulo obliged. Alvaro did the same on the other side of the cup, and the person holding the phone started counting up to three.

“Fuck, is that Paul?” Paulo asked.

“Yeah,” Alvaro laughed. “Quick, don’t look away.”

When Paul reached three, Alvaro pulled the trophy out from in between them and, as expected, Paulo started swaying, leaning forward until – until his lips met Alvaro’s.

The entire room erupted into cheers, including Paul, which made the camera go all shaky. When it returned to focus, it was still on Alvaro and Paulo.

Paulo had this utterly confused look on his face as Alvaro smiled and wrapped his free arm around him. Paulo rested his chin on Alvaro’s shoulder. He looked to be in a daze as he scanned the room, confused.

“Why’s the trophy so soft?” he asked. The room burst into laughter which didn’t fucking stop even when the video ended a whole ten seconds later.

Paulo felt a pout form on his face but honestly, he didn’t know if he should laugh or be mad. Alvaro, on the other hand, was laughing so hard next to him he was practically in tears.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking cute when you’re drunk,” he managed to choke.

“Alvi,” Paulo whined.

Alvaro rolled over and wrapped Paulo in a tight hug. “I love you so fucking much.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s cute.”

“Only you think that.”

“Everyone thinks that,” Alvaro claimed. He lifted Paulo’s head and kissed him on the lips. “Ew, Pau, you taste like vomit.”

“Fuck you. I just vomited.”

“You’re gross.”

“You just said I’m cute.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Fuck off,” Paulo said, but burrowed his way into Alvaro’s arms again, anyway. He closed his eyes and sighed. Okay, so it was pretty funny. “Are you posting it on Instagram?” he mumbled.

“No,” Alvaro lied.

“You are.”

“I’m not,” Alvaro paused. “Would you mind if I did?”

“See? You’re posting it.”

“Fine, I am. But would you mind?”

“No,” Paulo said. He knew this was who Alvaro was. Alvaro had always been a fan of public displays – Paulo not so much, but Alvaro thrived on attention and likes. He didn’t really read all the comments but he loved getting likes and. Well, Alvaro was weird as fuck. “Go ahead.”

So Alvaro posted it as Paulo dozed, occasionally waking Paulo up when he started laughing at it again or when he received a funny comment from one of his friends or teammates. When Paulo sleepily asked him what the caption was, he said, “There isn’t a caption ‘cause it doesn’t need one. It’s gold on its own.”

“I’ll get you back one day,” Paulo replied.

“Nah,” was all he heard from Alvaro before he fell asleep again.

The next time he woke up, the sunlight had dimmed considerably and Alvaro was placing a warm towel on his head.

“Third towel,” he smiled.

“What time is it?” Paulo asked.

“Three in the afternoon.”

“Shit. I feel like shit.”

“Sleep some more.”

“No, I need to get up and walk around.”

“What,” Alvaro said. He hurriedly stood up when Paulo got out of bed. “What, you’re so weird.”

“I’m fucking starving,” Paulo said.

Alvaro followed him everywhere, frantically pressing the towel to Paulo’s head. He stood behind Paulo holding it in place when Paulo peed. He stumbled after Paulo to the kitchen and bent over with Paulo when he searched for food in the fridge.

He finally said, “Could you hold this yourself while I cook for you?”

Paulo sighed. He waited for Alvaro to warm the towel again and pass it back to him, along with a bottle containing, like, a full litre of water. Paulo was instructed to finish the whole thing, so he opened it and started chugging.

“The video you posted,” Paulo said, watching Alvaro as he zoomed about the kitchen. “You enabled commenting?”

“Yeah,” Alvaro said before pausing. “Don’t worry, I only read the ones from people we know.”

“Yeah?” Paulo smiled. “Can I see?”

“Are you going to delete them?”

Paulo shrugged before realising that Alvaro had his back to him. “If they’re bad,” he said instead.

“Paulo,” Alvaro sighed. “You don’t have to. I don’t want you to read them if they hurt you.”

“I can read them on my phone too, you know?”

Alvaro sighed again. “Paulo.”

“Okay, okay.”

“I know you’re trying to protect me,” Alvaro said softly. “I know you don’t want me to be upset. But if you read them and you’re upset, then. Then it does the same thing to me. It’s not worth it at all. Okay?”

“Okay,” Paulo whispered.

“But,” Alvaro turned and smiled lovingly at Paulo. “They’re getting fewer. The hateful ones.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. There’s this thing about haters. The first kind, they say mean things about things they don’t like and then eventually leave them alone because they’ve decided that it truly isn’t the thing for them. The second kind, they say mean things to get attention. They do it to spark a fight. These are the ones we see all the time. But we’re lucky, because these are the ones who also don’t mean it as much. They’re just trolls. They just want attention. If we ignore them, they might not go away, but it makes our lives better and their lives worse.”

Paulo smiled. He rested his chin on his hands. “My boyfriend is so wise,” he cooed.

Alvaro gave a soft giggle. “Yeah? Makes you feel better when you think about it like that?”

“Mmhmm.”

Alvaro eventually served a heaping plate of eggs and a giant bowl of oats to Paulo, along with the now-refilled litre of water.

“Finish everything,” he instructed.

Paulo opened his mouth to complain about how much food it was, but only succeeded in allowing Alvaro to shove a spoonful of oats in it. He picked up the utensils and started eating on his own as Alvaro watched him fondly.

“Nice?” Alvaro asked.

Paulo nodded. It was a lot, but. But it helped.

“Hey,” he said. “Alvi. Thanks for taking care of me.”

“Don’t be silly,” Alvaro said. He reached over and placed a palm on Paulo’s cheek, his smile growing when Paulo pushed his face further into his grasp. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

Paulo gave him a shy smile. He could never. Never imagine what his life would’ve been like if he hadn’t been chosen to fill the empty slot in the training camp. If he hadn’t met Alvaro. If, in his life, there was no Alvaro Morata.

“I love you,” he said softly.

“Love you, too,” Alvaro whispered.

“Aren’t you hungover?”

“I’m okay.”

“Eat some,” Paulo said, and when Alvaro opened his mouth to protest, shoved a spoonful of oats in it.

They spent the entire afternoon taking turns to feed each other, and Paulo swore. Paulo swore he had never been more in love with Alvaro than he was right then.

But then again, every time Paulo thought that, there would unfailingly, inevitably, whether it was a week later or a month later – be another occasion that proved him wrong. Paulo felt like he could never stop falling in love with Alvaro, even after every time he thought he’d maxed out all his affection. And fuck, Paulo had tripped and fallen many times in his life but this. This was his favourite fall.

------

The Coppa Italia final was nothing like Paulo had ever imagined.

He lost count of how many times his heart almost skipped out of his chest whenever Milan sent a shot at goal. He ran until he could barely feel his legs. He mentally screamed at the heavens whenever Juve missed one of their rare opportunities.

He glanced at the bench, at Alvaro, every time he felt hopeless. Alvaro would give him the same encouraging smile and a tiny fist pump.

Despite how simple it was, it gave Paulo the energy to keep trying.

And then, in the second half of extra time, Alvaro got substituted into the match.

And two minutes later, scored.

Alvaro veered away in celebration and hopped over the advertising hoardings in his excitement, right in front of all their loyal Juventus fans. And although he was tired as fuck, so tired that his legs were almost giving way right under him, Paulo ran.

Paulo ran after Alvaro, the first to do so, and caught up with him, jumping on his back and yelling in his ear words that Paulo could barely make out himself. Paulo almost fell off Alvaro’s shoulders as he strained forward to kiss Alvaro until Alvaro made things easier by turning his face to the side.

But they only had two seconds of wet, sweaty, sloppy kisses until their teammates started jumping on them, yelling excitedly about ‘Morata, Morata, we’re winners because of you again,’ and Paulo realised he had momentarily forgotten that Alvaro had just scored what was essentially the winning goal because, well.

Because Paulo was already a winner. He had Alvaro. He would always be a winner.

He stuck close to Alvaro as the medals were handed out. He couldn’t stop smiling. Alvaro turned and asked, “What the fuck is wrong with your face?”

“What?”

“You’re like that teethy emoji that no one is really sure whether it’s grimacing or smiling.”

“Fuck you. You can’t stop smiling, either.”

“Yeah,” Alvaro grinned. “Hey. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I want to ask if this is real but I also don’t care.”

“Alvi,” Paulo whispered. “You won it for us.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did. You can’t deny it. Alvaro, you’ve done so well. You’ve proven to everyone that we can do it – that you can do it. That our relationship isn’t as bad as they think it is. That the club moves on, and so should they. You’ve done it all for us.”

Alvaro smiled. He gave Paulo’s nose a little pinch and wiggle. “I really wanna kiss you right now,” he said.

“You can,” Paulo reminded him.

So Alvaro did. He leaned over and grabbed Paulo’s face with both his hands and smacked a loud kiss on Paulo’s lips, and the medals were still being given out but everyone suddenly crowded around them to shield them again, and the stadium announcer suddenly shrieked, “Paulo! Alvaro! PG environment!”

And everyone started laughing, and the crowd started cheering, and shit. Paulo felt so complete. He felt so complete.

He lifted their second trophy of the season together with Alvaro again. His Alvaro. His own personal trophy. His prize. The best reward for anything ever.

He looked up to the night sky as he held the trophy towards it. Dad, this is for you. The second trophy in one month. This is for you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Thank you for pushing me even when I thought I couldn’t do any better. Thank you for making this as much of my dream as it is yours. This is for you. I wish you were here to watch me. I made it, dad. I made it for you. I hope you’re proud. I love you and I hope you’re proud of me.

------

The night was so wild, they only managed to meet their families the next day for a meal.

The first thing Alvaro’s dad asked when they all sat down was, “So Paulo, where are you planning to spend your summer?”

Alvaro saw Paulo’s eyes dart around anxiously. It was one thing to have his dad willing to talk to Paulo. It was another thing for Paulo to have an inherent need to constantly impress Alvaro’s dad.

“Um,” Paulo said. “I haven’t really thought about it. I…don’t really have a tournament to prepare for, so.”

Alvaro reached under the table and gave Paulo’s knee a squeeze before taking his hand. He knew that despite all the ecstasy from winning the domestic double, Paulo was still shaken by the disappointment of not being called up for the Copa America. And the double whammy of Juventus’ unshakeable prohibition of Paulo joining Argentina for the Olympics. Paulo was being given the chance but he also wasn’t allowed to take it.

“Would you like to join us?” dad asked.

“Join you…where?” Paulo furrowed his brow, and God, Alvaro was so fucking fond.

“In France, to watch Alvaro in the Euros. Maybe your mom would like to come along, too?”

Paulo turned to Alvaro in surprise, and then to his mom, who had a really happy and excited look on her face. She nodded at Paulo.

“Yeah?” Paulo asked hesitantly. “You’d…you’d like me to come with you?”

“If you want to,” Alvaro’s mom said.

Paulo turned to Alvaro again. Alvaro gave him a smile and a nod. Alvaro would literally give the world for Paulo to be there to watch him play. And he knew what it meant to Paulo to receive an invite from Alvaro’s dad himself.

“Okay,” Paulo finally said. “I’ll go. Mom will go too, yeah?”

And so it was set.

Paulo didn’t stop smiling the entire day and Alvaro realised exactly how much it all meant to Paulo. Paulo was willing to sacrifice his entire summer. He could’ve spent it back in Argentina, with his family and friends. He could’ve spent it in the US, watching his Argentina. Watching his idol Messi.

But instead, he was going to France to watch Alvaro.

“You know what,” Paulo said as they settled in bed at the end of the day. “I’m glad I get to go watch you play.”

“Yeah?” Alvaro smiled. “Why?”

“I used to, remember? I went to Romania to watch you play. And it was so simple back then but it got so difficult because now everyone knows us. And it was weird because I didn’t have any reason to go all the way over to wherever you were to watch you. But now I can. Now I can, Alvi. I’m not gonna have to be worried about someone seeing me there and asking why the fuck I’m watching Spain. Because my boyfriend plays for Spain.”

“You know what I’m glad about?”

“What?”

“That I didn’t get kicked off the Spanish team just ‘cause I’m in a relationship with you.”

Paulo paused for a really long time.

“Would you have broken up with me if they said you had to in order to play the Euros?” he asked.

And, oops. Alvaro was still as horrible with words as he had always been. “No, hey,” he gently nudged Paulo’s cheek. “I meant it as a good thing.”

“But would you?”

“No. I wouldn’t. I’d have spent the summer with you.”

Paulo smiled. “Yeah?”

“Of course. We’d go to the Bahamas or something. Or Dubai. Or Maldives. Or wherever in the world you want to.”

Paulo’s smile grew. “You know where I’d actually really wanna be?”

“Where?”

Paulo burrowed himself right into Alvaro’s arms so that he was half lying on Alvaro, one thigh nudged in between both of Alvaro’s. He pressed his cheek against where Alvaro’s heart was. “Right here,” he whispered.

Alvaro laughed, watching as it made Paulo rise and fall along with his chest. “Cheesy fuck.”

Paulo smiled proudly and nuzzled his face further into the front of Alvaro’s t-shirt. It was a little warm pool at Alvaro’s heart. Like the little warm pool Paulo had always put there, but. But now physically, as well.

Alvaro watched as Paulo slowly fell asleep. He watched as the big smile on Paulo’s face slowly faded into a lingering upward turn of the lips, as his eyelids fluttered several times before he slowly descended into his dreams. He watched Paulo’s tiny little hand grasp a handful of Alvaro’s t-shirt, not tugging, just resting there, like even in his dreams, he only ever needed to know that Alvaro was there. He listened to Paulo breathe in that terrifying way of his, frequently stopping completely for a few seconds before restarting with a loud, deep breath, like he’d forgotten to breathe; in that way that he had always assured Alvaro was normal but which Alvaro refused to believe.

He watched Paulo fall asleep in the most mesmerising way possible. Alvaro often felt like he could stay up an entire night just to watch Paulo sleep. Just to make sure he breathed properly. He could spend the entire night just watching Paulo because it was more peaceful, more relaxing, than even the most well-rested sleep Alvaro had ever gotten.

He wrapped his arms more tightly around Paulo and pulled Paulo closer to him. Paulo’s cheeks were all squished together but Alvaro wasn’t afraid of waking him up because Paulo slept like a pig.

“You’ll always be right here,” Alvaro whispered.

Paulo didn’t hear him, evidently. Alvaro gently lifted Paulo so he was fully lying on Alvaro. He wrapped his arms and legs around Paulo like Paulo was this oddly-sized, oddly-shaped bolster. Alvaro just. He just felt so warm inside and outside. Warm in every way possible.

Alvaro spent his time alternating between counting how many breaths Paulo took every minute and thinking about every single thing that had happened in the past year that he could say was literally a dream come true. Alvaro couldn’t believe that they’d come so far. He couldn’t believe that all that shit talking they’d done back in 2009, back in 2010 and 2011 and 2012 all the way up to 2015 – all the shit talking that they’d done about playing together and winning a trophy together, it had all come true. They had actually, legitimately, found their way back to each other, from Córdoba-Madrid, Palermo-Madrid, Palermo-Turin, closer and closer and closer until they were both finally in Turin.

He couldn’t help but smile when he thought of how the entire universe must have fucking aligned in order for all of that to have happened. For everything that had led up to this day, right this moment, to have happened.

He hugged Paulo so tightly Paulo actually gave a little groan and sigh before continuing to breathe.

He was never going to let Paulo go. Alvaro was never, ever, ever going to let Paulo go.