Work Text:
Not many people know Will’s birthday is on Valentine’s Day. He prefers it that way, but he likes to celebrate with Hannibal, and his workload has been steadily increasing since the start of February. He desperately hopes he’ll manage to get the day off to relax with his husband.
“Got a date, Graham?” Zeller teases when Will mentions it. Will rolls his eyes, and Beverly wiggles her eyebrows at him.
The teasing is fine. They don't know Will is married, nor does he particularly want them to. They're a gossipy bunch, and both he and Hannibal deal with obsessive personalities in their jobs, so they both try their best to keep their private lives completely out of their work.
"Your fortieth approaches," Hannibal whispers that night, massaging Will's shoulders as Will tries his best to melt into the hot water inside the bathtub.
Will just hums in response, so tired he can barely keep his eyes open, especially not with how good the massage feels. He'll ask Jack if he can get Valentine's Day off tomorrow. Maybe he'll soften him up first, ask him if he has plans with Bella.
He falls asleep with Hannibal's chest against his shoulders, cradled to his body skin to skin, warm and happy.
"Sure, you can have Valentine's off," Jack answers the next morning. It didn't even take much cajoling. Will is surprised, but he's not going to question his luck.
He'd already arranged to take the day off with his department at the academy, and so now all he has to do is… wait. He should be relieved, but something's nagging at him. His anxiety only grows worse from then on, building and building as he feels like everyone around him is keeping something from him. He's working so much to get the last of what he needs to do done that he can't figure out what it would even be.
Valentine's Day comes and Hannibal wakes him at midnight with a heart shaped macaron with a candle stuck on top, singing Happy Birthday to him. He wishes for more free time to spend with his loved ones and enjoying his hobbies, and blows the candle out. They share the macaron in between little chaste pecks, and Will is so happy that he can't help the giggles that escape him.
"My dearest cupid," Hannibal says as they lay back in bed, cradling his face in his palms and kissing his forehead. "Thy eternal Summer shall not fade."
Will swats him on the chest and snorts into the crook of his neck.
"Shakespeare? You sap."
Hannibal wakes him in the morning with breakfast in bed. A beautiful tray of brioches filled with apricot jam, honey drizzled slices of soft cheese, white grapes, and a caffellatte that tastes like heaven.
Italians like their breakfast sweet, from what Hannibal tells Will, and it's a habit he never quite shook off.
They dig in together, but occasionally feed each other a bite or two. Will delights in licking the honey off of Hannibal’s fingertips.
They take the boat out into the sea, later in the morning, and have lunch surrounded by the water. It's a particularly warm day for the time of the year, and they make love under the clouds, moving with the rocking of the waves.
They make it back to the docks just as the weather starts to turn. By the time they make it back to Hannibal's, they're soaked.
When Hannibal unlocks the door the lights turn on on their own, and he sees all his friends there, and in the time it takes them to cheer out the word 'surprise,' he's put the pieces together. The extra work to keep him distracted, the easily accepted day off, the way he'd been seeing Hannibal even less than usual.
Hannibal threw him a surprise birthday party.