Work Text:
Will smiles when Hannibal brings the pancakes out. “It’s officially spring,” he says, nodding at the small clump of daffodils beaming at them from the far end of the garden.
“So it would seem.”
Hot coffee steams on the wooden table, melding with the sweet aroma of the spring flowers. Will rests his feet on Hannibal’s lap, snickers at the not-really-disapproving look he receives.
They sit quietly together on the patio, enjoying the buzz of the bees and the morning sun. When Will closes his eyes and welcomes its warm embrace, Hannibal thinks he shines even brighter than the sun.