Work Text:
January 20th. Hannibal’s birthday. No one knew of course. He liked it that way. It was his day of self-indulgence without consequence or judgement from either himself or another, despite the rarity of such occurrences. It had become ritual for Hannibal to spend this occasion alone. Not by circumstance, rather by choice. He hadn’t thrown himself, or been thrown for that matter, a party since he was a young man. Back when partying wasn’t so hard on his hip. But wild parties and drunken company now seemed so very dull. He would much rather spend time with the greatest person he knew. Himself. And thus, the day was doomed to become one of solitary indulgence. At least this is what Hannibal assumed. And assumptions are notoriously dangerous, especially when a certain Will Graham is involved.
The day was playing out just as Hannibal had imagined. There were patients to see, queries to calm and a certain man with curly dark hair and an uneasy disposition that made Hannibal question his talent for prediction. Will Graham was entirely unpredictable. Deliciously so. That man had the sole ability to render Hannibal Lecter into gazing. One might even say fawning. He wasn’t sure if it was the blue of his eyes, the sharpness of his jaw or the unconscious way Will always seemed to angle himself so Hannibal had a perfect view of his rear. Hannibal always left himself open when it came to their therapy sessions, letting whatever flow of conversation came their way rather than his usual ‘guided persuasion’. He loved hearing Will speak. The voice of a troubled man with a troubled mind. Hannibal wasn’t sure how he did it but he made it sound angelic. The only complaint he could ever find was his frown. Frowning didn’t suit Will and was unfortunately his natural response to most situations and conversations. Hannibal had only seen him smile twice. Once at Abigail, the other at him. Hannibal had never found himself so overtaken by a person’s smile before but Will Graham had managed it.
Their session tonight however was not going as smoothly as Hannibal had hoped. Will was good at hiding things, he had done so most his life but Hannibal’s nose was too sharp for such common tricks. And tonight, his nose wouldn’t stop tingling with the scent of agitation. One minute, Will would be sitting in his chair that so nicely brought out the several shades of blue in his eyes, the next walking around the office with his head down, then fumbling with his hands sitting in the chair again, and then getting up to fiddle with whatever object came his way. His eyes flittered between the floor and the walls. His answers short and distracted. One might even say cold. Hannibal all the while sat patiently in the familiar chair opposite, his eyes following wherever he went. Gazing.
“You are distracted today Will.” Hannibal said. There was no reply from the figure across the room. Perhaps the stag Will was playing with was going to answer for him. Hannibal continued to stare. Waiting. Patiently waiting. He didn’t mind so much considering the view. Perhaps a little nudge would help get things moving along.
“There is something on your mind Will. What is it? If I don’t know what current we are navigating, then I cannot be a useful paddle.”
“A paddle ceases its usefulness when the current becomes too strong for it.” Will replied.
Hannibal had not anticipated that. It took him aback, a momentary loss for words, before he found himself speaking out of place.
“Do you believe my therapy to be useless to you Will?” Hannibal rebutted. He blinked in regret for such untamed words.
It took little imagination to understand what Will was imply with their metaphor. All the same Hannibal couldn’t help but feel stung by his words. Stung by love. He received a shrug in response. Not even the view could help now. Hannibal was caught completely off guard unsure of what to say or what he could say. He didn’t wish for his tongue to betray him a second time. He looked at his watch instead. 8:25pm. Would it be too rude to cut their session short by five minutes? Will was clearly vying to be gone considering the disinterest in their conversation. It seemed Will was deliberating the same idea as he took a long look at his own watch.
“Jack will want to have you consult on the case starting tomorrow. He wants a second opinion. Rather he wants your opinion.” Will said as he slipped on that raggedy coat and made for the door.
Hannibal rose from his seat to see Will out. It was an uncomfortable moment for them both as Hannibal reached for the door handle at the same time as Will, wrapping his larger hand around the other man’s rougher one. He lingered for too long making the moment even more unbearable than he had already. Flustered, he moved his hand back to his side and gave a nervous smile. Now he was the one unable to make eye contact. Will just stared at him, the longest he had all night, with a rather unreadable expression. Was it boredom, discomfort, sadness or regret? Maybe all.
“Just because the paddle is useless in its current circumstance doesn’t mean the ship-wreaked sailor abandons it. Goodnight Doctor Lecter.” Will whispered and departed for his home shores.
Hannibal stood in the doorway; his eyes transfixed on where Will had just been. A lovesick fool. Will had a way of making Hannibal both perplexed in his mind and ravenous in his heart. It was entirely unfair and entirely seductive. Hannibal let out a deep sigh of longing. How easily he had read him, how easily he had captivated him. Eating alone suddenly seemed so forlorn. He wished he could spend tonight in company instead. If only that company could be Will Graham. Entirely unpredictable.
The drive home although short felt longer than usual. Hannibal couldn’t stop himself from getting absorbed by his thoughts. Driving usually helped him clear his head as the empty stretch of road before him appeared never ending. So did his thoughts. Had he done something to upset Will? The way he acted, restless and uneasy, it was as if Hannibal’s presence had made his feel that way. It hadn’t before, why so now? Did something happened at the FBI to caused Will’s mind to distance itself from their conversation? He mentioned a new case. It wasn’t Hannibal’s increasing presence at crime scenes that was a problem, was it? No. If that were the case, he would have noticed a change in attitude during such events, not when they were alone in the safety of Hannibal’s office. Although he did seem a little bothered when mentioning Jack wanting Hannibal’s opinion; it hadn’t been a problem this morning and Hannibal was certain Will was glad to get someone else to think about the crimes other than himself. So Will didn’t have to hear their screams. No. What truly was pulling at Hannibal’s heart was Will’s brutal comment about Hannibal’s expired therapy. That he had seized his usefulness. He had not been expecting it, like most comments that left that lips, but this one had a very different aftertaste. Sharp, like too much lemon in a tarte au citron. Hannibal prided himself on his work and his abilities, being compared to a useless paddle was an insult he couldn’t fathom coming from Will.
‘Just because the paddle is useless in its current circumstance doesn’t mean the ship-wreaked sailor abandons it’; so, although I am not useful now, I may be essential sometime in the future? Will still feels unstable, unable to navigate his storm by himself. The paddle gives him protection, control. Whether that is physical or not, whether it is I or not. Oh, Will Graham what on earth have you done to me?
Hannibal arrived home, glad to be able to relax after his sparing match with Will, even if he was the only one that got hit. He walked over to his wine rack and didn’t hesitate to pick out the bottle he had been saving. A 20-year vintage 1086 rosé Prestige Cuvee. Sublime. He uncorked and elegantly poured himself a generous glass. He hadn’t even removed his coat so desperately was he needing a drink. He thought he was starting to sound like Bedelia. Hannibal lifted the delicate glass to his lips; he could smell the floral undertone and that crystalline backbone, but he never got the chance to taste it. His phone buzzed and thrashed in his pocket. Rude. He reached inside to see who would be so vulgar as to interrupt his birthday indulgence. Across the screen read the name Will Graham. Unpredictable.
“Good evening Will” Hannibal politely answered.
“Hannibal” Will replied. The reception wasn’t clear, Hannibal couldn’t tell if he was holding the phone close to his mouth or if he was in a small room. His breathing was loud and thick.
“Will. Is everything alright?”
“…” Breathing was the only reply.
“Will. Has something happened?” Hannibal urged, no longer hiding his tone of concern.
“I’ve. I’ve done something. I don’t, I don’t know if I can fix it.” Will’s answer was raspy, breathy. His voice shaking as he spoke his desperate reply. Hannibal heard faint sobs through the bad connection.
“Where are you Will?” Hannibal asked clearly. Like a lioness locking its eyes on a buffalo that had trampled on its young.
“Home. I. I need you Hannibal. Please. Please help me” Will could no longer contain his sobs.
“I’m coming Will. Stay where you are. I am coming” Hannibal finished as he closed his phone and slammed his drink on the kitchen table. A crack formed within the stem.
He knew he shouldn’t have let Will leave his office like that. He knew there was something wrong with him tonight, yet his own selfish feelings impeded him from getting to the truth. Maybe his therapy had expired. All these thoughts circled in his mind as he grabbed his keys and ran to his car. Maybe he should call Jack? But Will had asked for him. Hannibal’s mind was in a panic. He so desperately wanted to run to Will and hold him in his arms. To dispel whatever fears he had of himself, show him what a beautiful creature he was. But maybe Will needed more than his useless paddle. The ship-wrecked sailor doesn’t abandon it. Hannibal shoved the keys in the ignition as the Bentley’s powerful roared into life. Will needed him, had pleaded for him. Hannibal was not about to abandon him.
_
When Will heard the dead tone of Hannibal hanging up he sighed. He felt incredibly guilty. He silently prayed for Hannibal to easily forgive him once he knew the true purpose behind his charade. Cruel as it may be. He looked through the cracks of the shed roof, the moon’s silent rays looking down on him. He hoped she wasn’t judging him too. Will sighed once more before shoving the phone in his pocket and leaving the shed.
Once back inside the house Will continued his preparations for Hannibal’s arrival. To think one would be so cruel for intentions so sweet, so innocent. Despite Will’s true nature he couldn’t help the guilt from controlling his thoughts. He hoped he wouldn’t hate him for too long. It wasn’t like he was getting Jack or Alana or anyone else involved. It was just him and Hannibal. Maybe that made it worse. Too late now. If he killed him, he killed him. At least he would go out trying to do the right thing. Will mentally scolded himself for being so dramatic. All will turn out fine if he just sticks to the plan.
When Hannibal was roughly 10 minutes away Will put on the finishing touches. He switched off the lights and left the front door open wide enough so that Hannibal could see it when coming down the drive. The shutters bolted tight on all the windows. He crouched in the corner of the room where the moonlight could not penetrate, hidden deep in the shadows. The trap was set. Now all Will could do was wait. Patiently wait.
_
It was in fact 5 minutes by the time Hannibal arrived after Will had enveloped the house in darkness. Hannibal could see the front door open. Maybe he should have brought a knife. Hannibal become aware of how out of control his breathing was, how angry his breaths sounded. He couldn’t help it. Hannibal didn’t hesitate as he took of his seat belt and slammed the car door shut as he got out. If any intruder was in Will’s home, he wanted them to become aware of his presence. To panic just as he was panicking. He walked menacingly and with heavy footsteps to Will’s home, he shouted his name which echoed throughout the night and into the trees causing them to shudder with fear. He hardly noticed his left hand was in a tight fist when he entered into the living room.
“Will?” Hannibal called again much softer than the first. This one was addressed to Will while the other was to frighten his prey. The spars shards of moonlight escaping through the door illuminated two of Will’s dogs but not Will. Hannibal could smell Will was close, so very close. His ears become acutely aware of breathing down his neck. His skin becoming warm where the breath hit. He sniffed the air turning his head ever so slightly towards his left shoulder. It was not Will’s aftershave. Hannibal licked his upper lip while his eyes become thunderous. Never had such fury overcome him. It all felt quick even for Hannibal’s mind. Rushing to Will, entering his home and now ready to strike the man behind him. What he did not expect was what happened next.
To his great astonishment Hannibal heard the man’s face smile. Not a malicious smile, but a genuine happy smile. Then all the lights came to life revealing many balloons of various colours dotted about the room, a table on the right-hand side with a white cake decorated with red and blue buttercream roses. A banner was above the table with the words ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’ written on it. The sound of a party popper snapped Hannibal out of his confusion as he turned around to see a smiling Will standing behind him holding the cuprite of the sparkly mess that now covered his shoulders and back. Hannibal just stood with his mouth slightly open and his eyes open wider than he thought he was capable of. He had never felt such genuine shock in all his life. He couldn’t help the smile that started to spread itself over his face.
Will had thrown him a surprise birthday party. Of all the people in the world Will was the last one in it that Hannibal thought would throw him a birthday celebration. His entirely unpredictable boy. How ironic this all was.
“You’re probably wondering what the hell’s going on despite the obvious. Well, I knew I needed to get you here somehow without raising your suspicion to what I was really planning. Otherwise you would never have come. It was rather simple really, just be my cranky fidgety self and then make the call. The hardest part was trying to keep the dogs from barking when you came up the drive, that and writing your name in icing. God that pipping bag did not want to cooperate with me.” Will explained with a sheepish smile on his face.
Hannibal could contain it no longer. He let out a laugh. And then another. Before he knew it, he was laughing away with Will who relaxed when he saw his psychiatrist wasn’t angry anymore. “You cunning devious boy Will. I was genuinely frightened for you; I should have known you were up to tricks when we were in my office. Bravo.” Hannibal replied.
A beautiful rosy blush surfaced on Will’s face, his eyes gently looking at Hannibal’s shoes. “Sorry. I didn’t really mean to frighten you that much. Although judging from your face, it was worth it.” Will apologised with a little embarrassed smile. Winston barked in agreement.
“Don’t be sorry Will. I am all the happier for it, sometimes we need a bit of a shock. And I must confess this is the greatest shock I have ever had the pleasure to experience.” Hannibal replied. Hannibal knew he was gazing too strongly at Will and for a little too long, but he felt a quiet contentment with the gentle silence between them. But he composed himself and remembered his manners.
“Thank you Will. I will never forget your kindness.” Hannibal said, soft affection coating his words. He hoped Will knew how much he meant them.
Will went pink again, but his eyes stayed fixed on Hannibal’s own. “You might want to take that back after we’ve had dinner.” Will replied.
“Dinner?” Hannibal enquired. He gave up on downplaying the admiration in his voice. It made Will smile with satisfaction.
“I’m not the cook you are by any means, but I do know how to cook a mean fish. Not that the fish was mean in any sense for all I know it might have been a rather friendly fish, it did let me catch it after all. Or maybe that makes it a stupid fish and we’re stupid for eating the stupid fish?” Will looked positively puzzled by the end of his spiel and looked to Hannibal for help.
Hannibal’s smile radiated warmth as he listened to Will’s ramblings. “Shall we have a look at our silly fish? I’m sure you’ve done a fine job Will.”
Will was glad to break away from the awkwardness he had created. He didn’t want to come off to strong. Will walked them to the oven where he took out two plates with roasted fish, dauphinoise potatoes and some seasoned veg. It smelt divine and Hannibal wanted to caress Will’s face. He had gone through so much effort to create a beautiful night for him, his heart was overcome with gladness. Will mirroring Hannibal’s actions was a great sign of diligence and affection on his part, to acknowledge that cooking was something special to Hannibal and to try and recreate it required a great amount of observation and desire to be recognised as such. Like a male deer presenting his antlers to impress the doe, ready to clash to prove his strength and mark him out from the rest. Hannibal didn’t know if he was taking it too far, but he really enjoyed the idea of Will showing off for him.
Will set the plates on the dining table, a sturdy old oak one with a white table runner and a single red candle between them. When they both sat down Hannibal realised how close they actually were to each other. Maybe Will really was flirting with him. Will smiled at Hannibal before raising his glass in a small toast, Hannibal reached for his own.
“Happy Birthday Hannibal. And cheers to not ending up in the emergency room with food poisoning.” Will toasted. Hannibal suppressed a laugh and clinked glasses with Will’s. They took long sips of their drinks, a fresh white wine with a crisp ending. It paired perfectly with the fish, which was cooked with a little lemon and herb, also delicious.
They didn’t talk much during their meal, mainly exchanged glances and smiled when they caught each other peaking. Will decided to break the silence.
“Sorry about my brutal display in your office earlier. I was cringing when I left and was so tempted to just run back and explain it all so you wouldn’t have to be upset anymore. God, I felt like such an arsehole still do if I’m honest.” Will confessed, taking a nervous sip of his wine.
Hannibal gazed at him for a little before he answered. “You are not an arsehole Will.” Was his short reply.
Will’s blush didn’t leave his cheeks. “Oh I’m glad!” he laughed. “But I, ah, I meant to ask. You know me and the way my brain works, I just wanted to… you were scared earlier. Genuinely frightened, when you shouted my name. I couldn’t stop myself empathising, I felt myself look through it all with your eyes and, I felt your fear. I almost forgot what I was doing and where I was, as usual. I, I am grateful that you felt like that. That makes me sound like a masochist doesn’t it? What, what I’m trying to say is…”
“You are grateful that someone cares for your well-being without them having a professional curiosity. That there is such a person that can indeed be said to care for caring’s sake.” Hannibal interjected; eyes focused on the man in front of him. “Yes Will. I was scared. And I too am thankful that I can feel fear, it reminds me to appreciate those around me and not waste a moment’s potential. To live riddled with regret is to not have lived at all.” Hannibal finished his wine never taking his eyes off of Will.
Will looked down to his empty plate. Hannibal wondered what wonderful thought was teasing his mind. Before he could ask Will looked back at him and the empty glass.
“Wine and cake?”
“That would be splendid Will.”
Will smiled and rose from his seat taking the satisfied plates away and brought over the cake with a cutting knife and two dessert plates. They were glossy white but had a splattering of gold veins in random patterns. Kintsugi. Hannibal recalled his aunt’s own collection of the beautifully broken china. This wasn’t something he thought Will would be interested in.
“Kintsugi?” Hannibal inquired cheerily.
“Oh yes, I um.” Will hesitated before he sat down in his seat and continued. “I remembered a conversation of ours, couple weeks ago, we were talking about being broken and if it was as miserable as it seemed. You illustrated your point with this old Japanese art of taking what is broken and filling in the cracks with gold. Just because something is broken doesn’t mean it is no longer beautiful, nor something to be thrown away. I was playing with the dogs and I broke the plates. I was gonna get mad about it but then I remembered what you said. So I didn’t get angry, instead I got an old necklace of my mother’s that was gathering dust in a box and melted it down. Stuck the pieces back together. Now not only do I still have my two plates, but I got two memories out of it as well.”
Hannibal’s face reflected everything he was feeling in his heart. Not only had Will impressed Hannibal with his exquisite work but he showed how much he listened to him and took in everything he said. Every word. Hannibal dreamt he could have been there to see Will gather the pieces back together.
“And did you understand my argument after you had experienced it yourself?” Hannibal asked. He desired to say something else but quieted himself.
“I did. I guess doing something practical helped me understand more. Being broken is just fine…as long as we have someone else to put us back together again.” Will answered.
They stayed in their silence for a moment. Just looking. Wondering what each other were thinking and feeling. Will emptied the last of the wine into the glasses then grabbed the cake knife.
“What part would you like?” Will politely asked, raising the cake knife in preparation.
Hannibal looked over the cake. In a crescent shape on the left were red and blue roses, while red icing spelt out ‘Happy birthday Hanni’. He supposed that was what Will meant by an uncooperative pipping bag. Hannibal had never seen his name abbreviated like that before. It made him laugh, he quite liked it. Will obviously understood his amusement at his fumble as he said “Yeh not what I was going for but, sometimes you have to let the piece speak for itself and it must have felt a desire to only spell out four letters of your name before it got writers block.”
Hannibal laughed at his joke, glad he was not deterred or embarrassed. Will laughed too. It suddenly occurred to Hannibal that this was the most he had laughed for a very long time, while also being the most he had heard Will’s laughter too. He felt drunk with love over it all, and with wine.
“I think I shall go for a rose and an ‘H’. I am very impressed that you made the cake yourself Will. For once I can truly say that I empathise with the struggles of getting a good sponge to rise.” Hannibal replied.
Will let out another one of his lovely laughs as he cut the exact slice. A genuine amusement at Hannibal’s comment. Was this flirting? Hannibal Lecter, prince of darkness, flirting with Will the hermit? Well it seemed he very much was, and enjoying it immensely. But was it the wisest of all paths to wander down? Will was Hannibal’s friend, and he treasured that friendship like a delicate relic and as if he were the curator in charge of maintaining its beauty. The curator will clean and polish the impurities from it, fix whatever parts may be broken but never improved upon perfection. Hannibal communed with himself as he ate Will’s delicious cake, constantly gazing at the Messere before him. Despite his infatuated heart wanting to tell Will what he really wanted from their relationship, his stoic mind refused to bow down; when one tried to improve upon perfection, they ran the very real risk of ruining it entirely. Hannibal did not want to ruin this.
Instead his heart stole peaks at Will’s movements, flashes of moments that it captured and held close imagining them in another place and time. One moment in Florence, another in his dining room before it all became a magical blur into one sublime moment of imagination. His face must have betrayed his mind as Will asked,
“Um, did you like the cake?”
“Yes Will, it was lovely. You are a better cook than you let yourself on to be. Next time I am to host a dinner party I shall have to have you sous chef for me.” Hannibal replied not taking his gaze off of Will. Will smiled shily and flicked his eyes down, he had never been called a good cook before and coming from someone such as Hannibal it felt quite amazing.
“I’m glad you like it. I’m glad you’re here.” Will replied. The two men smiled to one another, basking in each other’s beauty and happiness. Mirrors to one another.
“Would you like some whiskey?” Will asked with a small crooked smile.
“I think that would also be lovely.” Hannibal replied, love splayed over his face.
Will rose from the table and took the plates away to the kitchen before grabbing two glasses and filling them with whiskey. Hannibal rose from the sturdy table too turning his attention to the dusty piano sitting quietly in the corner of the room. He walked over to it, trying not to appear too tipsy, and placed his hand over the keys assuming the well-trained position. Will came over and handed Hannibal the glass and took a sip from his own. Hannibal asked if he played causing Will to chuckle with embarrassment.
“Ah well use to, not anymore, don’t have the time or the urge. Don’t know if I can still remember how to. Hang on let’s see if we can’t remember some tune or another shall we?” Will said as he sat down on the stool leaving a deliberate amount of room for Hannibal to sit beside him. Hannibal didn’t need any encouragement. They placed their glasses on top of the piano before pressing down on the keys that longed to be played. It was a little out of tune but not noticeably so, not to Will anyway. The reminisce of Bach’s Goldberg variations echoed through the house as Will fumbled with the tune. Hannibal became enticed and joined in, far more rehearsed and refined in his playing as well as being able to remember it all. It was beautiful. Their movements in blissful harmony complementing one another. Their chests rising and falling in sync as their hands moved up and down. They must have played for far longer than it felt. The dogs lulled to sleep from their lullabies. Their bottle of whiskey running low.
When they had run out of songs to play, they remained on the snug stool for a while. Just talking about anything and everything. Their bodies getting closer as they leaned against each other’s shoulders, lost in one another. All Hannibal could sense was Will. He felt lost in him. His smell, his voice, his touch. His heart was clawing at his chest to let it be held by him, be consumed by him. Hannibal could hardly bear it. The only thing preventing him from kissing Will right there and then was his mind pondering if Will felt the same. Little did he know of the butterflies swarming around Will’s stomach, and his own mind tugging at the leash. Will reached for his whiskey but abruptly stopped, arm midway through motion. In a split-second decision Will grabbed Hannibal’s wrist and pulled them up from the stool.
“Common, I want to show you something.” Was all Will said.
Hannibal happily obeyed as Will took them outside to his back porch where the sky was embroidered with silver stars, clear and strong against the midnight blue sheet. Will told Hannibal to wait while he went back inside. The night air was a little cold against Hannibal’s skin, but it smelt fresh and calm. There was always something about the night. When everyone was asleep but you. It was as if you were intruding upon a sacred privacy, awake when you had no right to be. There was something thrilling about it, a quite sense of mischief that was followed by a tranquillity as you realise no one knows you are there. No one can tell you off. A calm sense of power was what Hannibal always felt when navigating the night, but tonight he was glad to be sharing it with Will. When Will came back outside he was holding a leather bag, no bigger than his hand, with the letter ‘H’ in pleasant calligraphy pressed upon it. He held it out for Hannibal to take.
Hannibal smiled and took the bag from Will’s hand and revealed what was waiting inside. It was a beautiful brass compass. The outside of the lid had three divine women sculpted on it, the Norse sisters of Fate Dawn, Day and Dusk. Each had their own gem to signal who they were; amber for Dawn, ruby for Day and sapphire for Dusk. Gold flakes sparkled in their hair. Hannibal opened the compass to see what beauty lay within. It did not disappoint. Inside the lid were engravings of constellations with diamonds to represent the physical stars. The mechanism of the compass itself had a sublime marble underlay made of gold and moonstone, brass handles pointed to emeralds signalling north south east and west. It was the most beautiful object Hannibal had ever feasted his eyes upon. Its heavy weight felt good in his hands, firm and proud like a lion. It brought tears to his eyes, his mouth slightly open from his surprise at receiving such a sublime and unique gift from someone just as sublime and unique. Hannibal looked over to Will wanted to express his profound gratitude, but found himself just staring starry-eyed lost for words.
Will looked Hannibal right in the eyes as he said “So whenever you get lost, you can always find your way home. Just as you do for me. Happy Birthday Hannibal.”
Hannibal could have sworn he felt his heart be gently pierced with the overpowering arrow of Cupid himself, or that Eros with his fluffy white wings had snapped his fingers and awakened that all-consuming desire that no human could ever fight. That Cypris’ rosy cheeks were full with a smug smile for her great achievement. Or maybe it was his own mind finally yielding to his yearning moaning heart. Hannibal Lecter was utterly and profoundly in love. How desperately he just wanted to leap upon Will and shower him with his unrequited love, but he held fast against his raging heart. He looked back to the compass, trying his upmost to hold back the tears threatening to spill out and drop onto the gift in his hand. He traced his finger over the constellations and then over the golden-haired sisters, the metal cold and smooth against his skin.
He summoned his courage to finally speak, his mind and heart battling to control his tongue. “This is the most beautiful gift I have ever received. The most thoughtful object I have ever held. I am quite overwhelmed Will, something I did not anticipate occurring tonight. But then again perhaps this is exactly what I should have anticipated considering you never cease to surprise me. How utterly unpredictable you are. I love that about you. How I can predict all I like but am always left in suspense none the less.” He looked back at Will who was slightly swaying but smiling avidly at his words.
“Go on.” Will teased. Hannibal smiled yet looked sad at the same time. Will’s own smile dropped a tone upon registering that Hannibal was not as amused as he was. He came closer to him so that his chest was almost flush against Hannibal’s arm ready to hear whatever was about to be said.
“Will. There is so much I want to tell you. So much I should and shouldn’t say. First, I should say, although I am your psychiatrist, I’d like to think of myself as your friend. I certainly think of you as a friend Will. But therein lies the problem. I am bound to ethical boundaries with my patients even if it pains me to do so, and having to have boundaries with you Will is more pa….” Hannibal stopped suddenly.
A pair of strong lips were pressed firmly against his own pushing against him, the scruff of a beard tickling his face. It was all over. Hannibal’s heart burst forth from its shackles and leaped for what it wanted all night long. Hannibal returned the kiss passionately closing his eyes in absolute serenity and bliss. Neither were sure how long they stayed like that for, but both knew how utterly relieving it was to finally have their lips against each other. To finally know.
Will pulled back ever so slightly just so he could catch his breath, his nose touching Hannibal’s. “You were taking too long. I thought I’d help you out.” Will whispered with a smirk. The tears that lingered in Hannibal’s eyes finally crept out and gently slipped down his cheeks.
“I love you Hannibal Lecter.”
“I love you Will Graham.”
Their lips met once more, warm against the night. Kiss after kiss followed the first each one lingering a little longer than the last. Before they knew it, their arms had wrapped themselves perfectly around each other, Hannibal’s around Will’s waist while Will cupped Hannibal’s face with one and the other played with his hair. Their chests flush against each other, they could feel each other’s heart beats. It was glorious. This truly was the best birthday Hannibal had ever had.