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The night followed the predetermined script closely. Both men found themselves to be creatures of habit and accidentally formed a routine together in turn. Will would come over to Hannibal’s home in Baltimore every Friday night. Hannibal would cook as Will watched with silent appreciation. They would then dine together, making polite conversation over dinner and wine. Will would pay his due compliments, and Hannibal would accept the praise humbly. They would then clean up and wash dishes together after tidying the kitchen.
The rest of their night tended to have less of a structure, usually based on the whims of the two men. They would occasionally go to Hannibal’s study to talk. If they had already exhausted themselves socially, they tended to go to the living room with a sketchbook in Hannibal’s hand and a book stolen from some shelf in Will’s. One night, they ventured into Hannibal’s backyard to watch the stars. They liked being in each other’s presence, whatever that might entail. With the dropping temperatures of the night and the chill threatening the air, there was an unaddressed agreement to move into Hannibal’s living space, which had a fireplace.
Will always loved making a fire. It was something he knew how to do and do well. In his youth, his father often took him camping during their fishing trips. He quickly learned how to craft and light a campfire, then he ventured out into perfecting the art. It never failed to bring him back to the simpler times of when he was a teenager. He was happy to make one for Hannibal tonight. He liked working with his hands but also just wanted to do something for the other man. It was one thing he was able to give him, and it would be done irrefutably well.
After making Hannibal go outside for firewood and taking a few minutes to build it, there was a fire roaring in the fireplace. It provided an automatic relief from the cold, despite the home having a well-functioning heating system. Will was happy to sit down directly in front of it, watching the flames flicker and lick the wood. He inhaled deeply, appreciating the slight smell. It was more subtle now, but it would undoubtedly get more noticeable as the night passed.
The fire always captured Will's attention, keeping him in a trance. He slightly jumped when Hannibal sat down right next to him. Will just watched the man next to him for a moment, comfortable as ever. Hannibal passed one of the glasses of wine he had in his hands, glancing at him casually. It dawned on Will that he was waiting for an explanation, something Hannibal clearly had no intention of providing, so he allowed his attention to return to the fireplace.
Hannibal watched Will for only a second longer until he, too, began to watch the fire. Fires were nothing new to him. They often had to be lit in the house he had lived in during his childhood. He had always cherished something about their powerful beauty. Still, he much preferred to watch Will and how his eyes widened in slight surprise for only a fraction of a moment before his composure returned all too fast. Hannibal would much rather take hours to study each minor detail. He wondered what the other man was thinking, how he would respond if he just asked. Amusement bloomed in him at this last suggestion.
Hannibal couldn’t even picture how Will would react to him saying something so upfront. They both loved to dance around each other intellectually. It would be an entirely new dance to speak his mind. There was a danger in doing so; he had little control over what would come out. Both men had an attachment to control and had little interest in giving it up.
Still, the addicting images of surprising Will flashed in his mind. The other man would likely study Hannibal’s face for a moment, searching for any information. Hannibal considered how it would feel to be under such seeing eyes. He would love to watch as Will thought, his mind doing its best to find context and make sense of Hannibal’s question. The other man would come up blank, seeing that there would be nothing to find in the first place. Hannibal was playing Will’s game of bluntness, yet he likely would not even notice. But possibly, he would figure Hannibal out in an instant. The boy could always surprise him.
Hannibal took a sip of his wine and continued to watch the fire. They stayed like this for a few slow-moving minutes, not speaking, only appreciating Will’s work. The entire night had been so easy for them, but it was getting late. Hannibal’s stomach flipped at the thought of Will leaving. It was likely around 8:30, but Hannibal would never allow Will to drive if he had not waited enough time since his last drink. He was comforted by the half-drunk glass in Will’s hand, extending the clock. It was an hour-and-a-half drive to Wolf Trap, especially with the frigid temperatures. There wouldn’t be a chance that Will could return to his home tonight.
Taking Hannibal out of his thoughts, Will absentmindedly shivered beside him. It was slight but still indicated discomfort.
“I could grab you a blanket if you would like one.” Hannibal offered.
“Oh, no. It’s alright,” Will shook his head. “I should probably start heading out of here, anyways.”
“I couldn’t let you do that. It is already late and the drive is long, especially with the temperatures. You have had multiple glasses of wine, none of which are within the proper waiting period.”
Will almost smiled at the excuse to stay with Hannibal. It was unrealistic, but it was a welcomed suggestion. “I have to go back for the dogs.”
“I’m sure if you asked Alana, she would not tell you no.” Hannibal said with finality.
Will only nodded once, bringing his drink to his face to hide the smile ghosting his lips. His heart warmed with the knowledge that Hannibal wanted him to stay. He couldn’t begin to dissect the intentions of the statement, but it alone was enough to be meaningful.
Another shiver involuntarily passed through his body, the air nipping at his skin. The fire was still alive and well, warming only the front of his body. The difference between the two kept accentuating the chill, causing his body to react. Without asking this time, or even looking at Will, Hannibal simply got up and left the room, returning with a blanket from the closet. He draped it across the other man’s shoulders, covering his back and arms. He did not move slowly by any means, but still took his time to be thorough.
When he did sit back down, it was noticeably closer to Will. Each man still had their own personal space, but that was all they had. It was subtle, something that could easily be read as a mere coincidence and nothing to look into further. Will had quickly learned that nothing about Hannibal was simple. Anything he did or said should always be looked into. Often enough, there was something to be revealed underneath.
Tempted to test it, Will tilted his body towards Hannibal, only by a fraction of an inch, and slightly leaned into him. It was simply a slight reposition of shoulders, a shift in body weight. He hoped it would be enough to get Hannibal to reveal his cards, to see what he really wanted. Hannibal didn’t look back at him, eyes still trained on the fire. Will, less concerned about his intentions being revealed, freely looked at the other man. Nothing was shown on his face, other than the slightest quirk of his lip. It was well-disguised amusement from years upon years of practice, yet his mask slipped just enough for Will.
The confirmation took the wind out of his sails. Will suddenly felt like a child playing with a weapon it had no idea or authority to wield. He could feel his heartbeat begin to speed up with the concern of what that might mean. He had no idea what Hannibal might want, what he could feasibly give. Will wasn’t even sure what he wanted.
Hannibal glanced at the other man, playfulness stolen from his eyes and replaced with concern. He undoubtedly could feel the sudden shift in energy. Nothing in Hannibal wanted Will to feel nervous, for whatever reason, especially not because of him. Somewhere along the line, he had taken on a certain responsibility for the younger man. He intended to uphold this promise whenever possible.
“Are you alright?” Hannibal asked softly.
Will nodded once with a small smile that was intended to be reassuring.
Hannibal paused. “Is this alright?”
Will looked at him now, hints of surprise playing with his features. He wasn’t quite expecting Hannibal to actually address the situation. “I think so.”
With an urge to console the man beside him, Hannibal slowly leaned into Will until they made contact, shoulder to shoulder. He could feel Will’s shoulder tense up upon contact, as a barely audible gasp escaped from his lips. It took Will a few short seconds to catch up with the moment, then the muscles in his shoulder slowly released. More weight was applied to the point where they met, a sign of growing stability. Will always responded well to physical contact as a means of comfort, and Hannibal smiled as this was proven to be true once again.
They stayed in this exact position, unmoving and unspeaking, for several moments. The contact between them was new. It was charged in a way it had never been before. Nothing suggested that it would progress further, but it held a newfound weight and meaning. This touch was conscious and intentional. Both men took time to mentally explore and savor it.
Lost to the knowledge of Hannibal so close next to him, Will daringly laid his head upon Hannibal’s shoulder. It was much more comfortable, but the contact was distinctly more. Hannibal was grateful that Will could not see the surprise ripping through his disguise. It was an uncharacteristic display of emotions. He did his best to not analyze the effect Will had on him, unavoidably surrendering control in the process. He had to accept the younger man for all that he was. Allowing himself to delve too deeply into his thoughts would likely ruin the blissful moment. Instead, he let Will’s head sink on his shoulder, still staring at the fire.
The warmth that seeped into the top of his shoulder from Will’s head was almost too much. Closing his eyes, he worshiped each moment. He could feel Will’s curls brushing against his neck and the side of his face, slightly tickling him. He only noted how his stomach would flip when he acknowledged it, something to contemplate later. He savored the trust demonstrated by the man beside him, guard down and heart on display. He paid attention to each point of contact between them, memorizing how it felt on his skin. He was almost desperate for more time, never wanting the moment to end. A foolish wish.
Hannibal took one deep inhale, held it for a moment, and released it. He leaned his head in, laying it on top of Will’s. The man did nothing to acknowledge this new advancement other than tucking in closer to Hannibal. The fire began to slightly die down, the embers glowing brightly in the bed of ash. Despite the decrease in size, it still put out more heat than before, warming their skin nicely. Hannibal couldn’t help but adore how it added to the overall atmosphere of the night.
“Thank you so much for building the fire, Will. It was truly perfect.” Hannibal murmured, suddenly aware of how his chest vibrated as he spoke.
He could feel as a smile crept on Will’s face in reaction to the praise. “Thank you, but I was more than happy to do it.”
“Nonetheless, I appreciate you.”
Will had nothing to say to that. The loving comment made his heart absolutely burst, taking him completely off guard. It was nothing like what he had expected Hannibal to say. He opened his mouth to speak, but every word died on his tongue. Instead, he left the words hanging in the air, where they sat comfortably between them.
The night continued to pass slowly for the two men, each drinking in and basking in the other’s presence. They had spent most of the time next to each other, watching the fire alone with their thoughts. They had not broken contact once, occasionally shifting closer with passing surges of bravery. Neither person was used to intimacy like this, not progressing or ending. Simply touch for touch's sake, a basic sign of care. Neither of them spoke, allowing the moment to pass over them.
It was late, and Will Graham was tired. Caught off guard by the wave of exhaustion, he wasn’t able to stifle a yawn.
“Would you like me to show you to the guest room?” Hannibal offered, taking the yawn as a signal.
Will frowned. That was what he was afraid of. “No, I don’t want to leave quite yet.”
Hannibal nodded, just enough for him to feel. “You’re free to lie down if you would be more comfortable. I understand the hour is quite late.”
Will didn’t allow himself to question it. He just shifted off of Hannibal, his body immediately mourning the contact before he lowered his head into Hannibal’s lap. It was slightly awkward. He didn’t quite fully put his head down, restricted by self-consciousness. Will could feel Hannibal’s hand tentatively ghosting his shoulder. It was a comforting reminder that he was not the only one unsure about the situation. A laugh threatened to escape, but thankfully he had half a mind to stop it. The thought of Hannibal Lecter having doubts oddly humanized him.
In hopes of extinguishing some of the awkwardness, he took the blanket wrapped around his shoulders and repositioned it into Hannibal’s lap. It created a more comfortable place for Will while adding a barrier between the two. Less unsure, Will allowed his head to fully settle in the other man’s lap. From his position down low on the floor, he had a perfect view of the fire. There were very few flames left. Most of the wood had already been consumed and turned to ash. It was almost entirely embers, glowing an impossibly rich orange. He was entranced by the color, almost appearing unreal.
Once Will finally stilled in his lap, Hannibal delicately ran his hand up the other man’s shoulder, tracing the strong lines up towards his neck and into his hair. The other man shivered slightly under the touch. Hannibal allowed his fingers to surge forward, carding between the curls at the back of Will’s head.
His hair was impossibly soft. Hannibal relished in the warmth that they held from Will’s body. It accentuated how close Will was, how human he was. How real the entire situation was. It was beyond any fantasy he might have even considered letting himself entertain. The sudden realization of truth left Hannibal speechless. He couldn’t help but savor the moment, appreciating the man below him for allowing it to happen. His fingers moved upward, slightly digging deeper into the mess, wanting more. The touch was still so soft, too soft, but he had no interest in startling the other man.
Will only hummed, comfortable. Hannibal’s heart jumped slightly at the sound. The knowledge that he had the ability to make Will happy, no matter how small, was almost unbearable. He loved it. He began brushing his fingers through the other man’s hair, careful not to snag any knots. The repetition of the action quickly became hypnotic, providing a sense of utter comfort.
They stayed like this, Hannibal unwilling to be tired as he continued to play with the other man’s hair. Under him, Will was starting to give in to the temptations of sleep. His breathing began to even out, his head growing heavier in Hannibal’s lap. The action was so innocently intimate, providing a feeling of love Will had long craved. There was a particular thrill of knowing it was Hannibal, that someone capable of such destruction was also capable of such care. That he was on the receiving end of that care. Caught up in the moment, his eyes grew unbearably heavy. It did not take much for sleep to pull him under, knowing that he was safely in Hannibal’s arms.
Hannibal allowed Will to sleep, quietly delighting in the trust displayed by the other man, as the fire burned out and left them behind in the darkness of night.