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Will rolls his eyes at the quietly insistent knocking—knock knock knock knock. Always precise, strictly timed. “It’s unlocked,” he drawls lazily. Even the dogs don’t bother moving.
Hannibal pushes through the door, speaking before he fully crosses the threshold. “Uncle Jack is worried about you. He said you missed class.”
“So, what. He sends my knight in paisley armor over?”
Hannibal smiles, sharp as cut glass. His endearingly crooked teeth—watch it, Graham—peek through his lips; he tips his nose up, grimacing slightly.
“I’m getting in the holiday spirit,” Will says, grinning. The mattress creaks as he shifts.
“Perhaps not one your FBI recognizes.”
“C’est la vie.” Snagging the still burning joint off of its perch, a beer can with the lid cut off, Will goes to take a drag. Then he pauses, eyeing Hannibal, standing with a rigid grace in the middle of the living room. He flips the joint, offering it by the filter. “Live a little, doctor.”
Silent, unmoving—Hannibal abruptly shrugs out of his coat, turning to hang it on the single hook left standing in the house. “I believe this is the part where I’m supposed to ‘just say no.’”
Will giggles, high-pitched and free. “Say yes.”
“What a terrible influence you’ve turned out to be.”
“Okay, Ripper.” Will waits for Hannibal to sit on the edge of the mattress, snatching his hand back and sticking the filter between his lips. Tossing his arms behind his head, twining his fingers through his hair, he crosses his legs and leers. “Changed m’mind,” he mumbles around the joint. “You haven’t been very nice t’me.”
“No?”
“Nope,” Will says, popping the ‘p.’ The joint wobbles, threatening to drop scalding ash on his chest. “Very mean, actually.”
Amusement sitting like baubles in Hannibal’s eyes, he pouts, laying back on the bed. “And here I thought I was your knight in paisley armor.”
“Me too.” He doesn’t mean to let it slip; he can’t take it back. Good mood plummeting, Will sighs.
“Yes.”
“Hm?”
Hannibal pulls the joint out of Will’s mouth, tapping it over the can. “I’m saying yes.”
“Do you even—“ Will cuts off as Hannibal lips the filter, breathes in, and in, and in. “Alright, then.”
Drawing Will in by the collar, smoke trickles out to frame Hannibal’s words: “Say yes.”
Will blinks his dry eyes, unfocused and dull. “Yes…” he says slowly, gasping as Hannibal’s lips find his, fingers prying his jaw open. Hannibal breathes out, and Will breathes in, and in, and in.