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Will never decorated for holidays, the last time he'd had a Christmas tree was when he was seven, they'd set up a small three foot tree in the corner of the living room, half of the lights didn't work and the star was too heavy and nearly tipped the damn thing over.
Will didn't necessarily dislike Christmas, he liked the holiday just fine, but it reminded him of the less than excellent childhood he'd had. Dad wasn't so bad, he never hit Will, but he did yell often.
When Will was eight years old he'd asked dad about a Christmas tree and presents and if Santa was going to bring him anything--dad had told him to grow up, that Santa wasn't real and that they didn't need a tree or have the money for one. Will had cried for a while and then decided he didn't care anymore, Christmas wasn't all that great anyway.
And so for the next twenty two years Will didn't decorate for the holidays, none of them. But then he'd discovered seasonal candles. He bought so many of them, apple cinnamon, frosted snowflake, cranberry, spiced scents, things that reminded him of the holidays without actually putting up decorations and showing that he was festive.
He doesn't let anyone see the candles, something about them embarsses him. Alana never saw them when they'd briefly tried dating, Will had always made sure none of his very rare hook-ups saw them. Hannibal has never seen them nor does he plan on letting Hannibal see them--not yet at least.
--
Hannibal arrives at Will's home at five-thirty, bottle of Will's favorite wine in hand and some treats for the dogs.
He does not knock on the door, it's unlocked and Will is waiting for him, he turns the knob, pushes the door open and steps inside. The first thing he notices is the scent of a recently snuffed out candle, followed quickly by the smell of roasting meat and vegetables.
"My love?" He sets the wine on the kitchen counter, and opens the treats giving a few to the dogs circling his feet.
Hannibal hears a clatter and follows the sound looking for Will.
"Where are you?" He murmurs.
He finds Will in the upstairs bedroom--the one he still refuses to sleep in. He slams the closet door shut when Hannibal enters the room.
"Sorry, I didn't know you'd be here this early."
"Early? It's five-thirty," he pauses to look at his wristwatch, "Seven. I'm hardly early."
"Oh, well, I wasn't quite ready yet, I must've lost track of time."
He seems skittish, afraid, "Are you alright, my love? You seem upset."
"No, I-I'm fine. Just not quite ready, come on, let's go." He tries to usher Hannibal out of the bedroom.
"Are you hiding something from me?" Clearly he is, but whatever it is, is not something malicious.
"Hiding something? No, of course not."
"Will, my love, you are repeating my question back to me, you are clearly upset, talk to me."
"It's nothing, okay, come on, just drop it. Dinner is going to burn."
"Dinner is fine, I can smell it cooking, it will not burn."
"Okay, but-"
"Will, please, do not hide things from me. I can see you, I know when you're upset. Whatever it is that's troubling you, we can get through it together."
"Nothing is troubling me, I just.. it's almost Christmas and I don't.."
"Don't what?"
"Don't celebrate."
"No one is going to force you to celebrate. Just being with you, with my omega is enough for me. I don't need decorations and gifts, I just need you. Is that what has you so worried? That I want to celebrate the holiday and you do not?"
"Fuck." Will takes Hannibal's hand and leads him over to the closet, his cheeks are flushed with embarssement, he pulls the closet door open.
Inside are tons and tons of seasonal scented candles. Hardly something to hide away and be ashamed of. "Candles? My love, I do not understand."
"I like them."
"And? Will, you can like candles, you can celebrate the holidays in whatever manner you like."
"No, I don't like the holidays, they bring up less than savory memories, I don't want to celebrate them."
"I don't understand why you are hiding them? Why you blew one out shortly before I arrived or why you were afraid to show them to me. They are candles, Will. You're not a serial killer hiding skulls in the closet."
"I feel like one though, I feel like I need to hide them."
"My love, I could smell the freshly snuffed candle when I entered your home, I've noticed the lingering scents of spiced cranberries and smoke on you for weeks. You have nothing to be ashamed of."
"If dad.. if dad ever saw me with a fucking scented candle, celebrating Christmas he'd have yelled my ears off."
"Your father is not here, Will. His harsh words cannot hurt you anymore."
"I'm not afraid of him, or what he would say.. I just.. I don't like thinking about Christmas when I was little.. I don't like thinking about being eight years old and being told that we were too poor to buy a tree and that Santa wasn't real."
"You are allowed to like Christmas, and celebrate. My love, we can create new traditions together, if you would like. We can start as big or small as you'd like."
"Don't.. just don't make promises you can't keep."
"Promises I can't keep? What is that supposed to mean?"
"You can't just say that we can start our own traditions.. we've only been together for eight months."
"I know we have not bonded yet, but Will, you are my omega, I am your alpha, we are meant to be together. I'm not leaving, I want us to be together for the rest our lives. I want us to have family traditions and grow old together."
"You want to bond with me? After all you've seen of me?"
"I love every part of you, Will. Every imperfection, every quirk, I love you for you."
"I'm afraid to display a fucking candle, I'm neurotic and unpredictable and you deserve a better omega."
"No." Hannibal says firmly, "I do not deserve a better omega, you are the perfect omega for me. There is more to this than just some candles, my love."
"I'm sorry, I know I'm being irrational. I know they're just candles and that they don't mean anything."
"If they make you happy then they mean something."
"You don't mind them?"
"Not at all."
"You really have been able to smell them on me?"
"My love, I have an exceptional sense of smell, coupled with my heighten senses being a purebred alpha, yes, I can smell the candles on you.. same I can scent semen on you after you've masturbated.. or that I can smell now that dinner is well and truly done and should be taken out soon lest it burn."
"Let's go then."
"In a moment, first I would like you to choose a candle or two to bring with us, your favorite."
"No, we don't need-"
"Will, please, if you won't indulge yourself than indulge me. I want to smell the sweet, spicy scent of the candle intermixed with the sharp, delectable scent of your happiness."
Will blushes again, "Fine.. I guess my favorite is.. this one." He picks up a well burnt candle and turns to leave the room. The candle wax is a light off-white color, the label reads, 'bowties & burbon'.
Hannibal follows Will down to the kitchen table, Will sets the candle onto the counter and moves to get their dinner from the oven. Hannibal picks the candle up and sniffs; light burbon notes, strong citrus and bergamot. He finds a lighter and lights the candle while Will opens the wine and plates their food.
The scent of the candle is stronger once lit, but not overwhelming. Hannibal watches as Will's nose twitches slightly, taking in the scent.
Hanniabal pours them each a glass of wine, having not opened it soon enough he uses an aerator.
They sit at the table, across from one another, the dogs are in their beds in the next room, trained well enough to not beg for table scraps.
"Delicious, my love." Hannibal chews and swallows the tender roast he'd brought the day before for Will to cook. Will insisted--if Hannibal was providing the meat then Will was cooking it. Hannibal hadn't fought, Will was a proficient chef.
"Thank you, but it wouldn't have been possible without you bringing me the roast."
"Yes, but you've cooked it so well, tender, juicy, not dry or tough, flavorful, mm, you've done well, my love."
The subtle changes in Will expression at the praise make Hannibal immensely happy.
"Stop complimenting me and eat." Will smiles softly, despite the lights of the kitchen his face is illuminated nicely by the candle's soft glow.
"If you don't mind me asking, why is specific candle your favorite?" Hannibal has his suspicions.. after smelling it himself, but it wouldn't do well to assume.
"Oh, uh, well, it uh, it reminds me of you."
"Of my scent or just me in general?" Everyone can detect their own scent to a small degree but no one can truly smell themselves.
"Both. You scent similar to the bergamot, but with a sharper edge, it makes me think of the bourbon. The citrus because it's slightly tart but not overwhelming, same as you."
"You find me tart, my love?" Hannibal smirks, teasing.
"Well I didn't-" Will stutters.
"Shh, my love, I was only teasing, I know what your meaning was."
"Don't tease me."
"Oh, but you blush so beautifully." Hannibal sips his wine.
They finish their meal, surrounded by the scent of their meal, the candle and each other.
"So you really don't mind the candles?" Will asks as he rinses the dishes clean of soap residue, after Hannibal washes them.
"No, if they make you happy, I want them around, I want to see you smile. My love, would you be opposed to getting a Christmas tree?" Hannibal pauses his dish washing to turn towards Will and lean against the cabinets.
"For my home or yours?"
"Either, though I wouldn't want to overwhelm you or the dogs, so I thought it'd be best in my home."
"Oh, yes, I'd like that." Will says shyly.
"Would you like to come to my home tomorrow to help decorate it? We can have dinner and then decorate the tree? Maybe sit by the fire afterwards."
"Spend the night too?"
"I'd be more than happy to have you stay, my love."
"It's a date then."
"One more thing though."
"What?"
"Bring a few candles with you, I'd like my home to be filled with pleasant scents that you like as well."
"Are you sure? I've never once seen a candle that wasn't just a decoration in your home."
"More than sure, dear Will."
"I think I can find a few to bring."
"Do you have any that smell like crisp fresh snow, flannel and cedar?"
"I think I have one that will fit that description."
"Bring that and any others you'd like."
"Why that combination?"
"You have a candle that reminds you of me.. I'd like one that reminds me of you." Hannibal leans in and presses a soft kiss to the corner of Will's mouth before leaning their foreheads together and murmuring, "I love you, Will."
"I love you too, Hannibal."