Work Text:
Will worked at his desk, a slight hunch in his back, fingers busy tying knots, designing elegant fly-fishing lures by dim lamplight. He hadn’t made lures in a long time. It had been a few years since he and Hannibal left their old lives with a dramatic crash into the sea, and even more years since he last handled homemade lures outside of his daydreams. His strong fingers now easily cramped and ached, long since exercised with such fine detailed work and precision. He stretched his back against the hard wood of his chair and groaned, rolling the tenseness out of his shoulders. He closed his eyes and leaned back, inhaling deeply as his muscles stretched and his one shoulder gently throbbed.
Instinctually, he reached into the left drawer of his desk, fumbling with the loosening handle. Damn, another thing to fix. He sighed as he pulled out a small box, rolling the weight in his hands. He frowned, then shook it to confirm it was empty, then sighed again, more angrily this time, and tossed it in the trash. He’d been meaning to replace it for days. A warm, strong hand gripped his shoulder and he hummed and smiled to himself, Hannibal.
“Looking for these?” Hannibal had leaned over, kissing Will’s temple, and offered up the prize in his open palm.
Will licked his lips and took the box of cigarettes, flipping the lid and holding the fresh tobacco under his nose. “How’d you know?”
Hannibal moved to sit on the edge of Will’s desk. “Yesterday I heard you mumbling and cursing how it was empty, and that you kept forgetting to replace it. You said the same thing for a few days now,” he said with a smile.
Will nodded and pulled out one cigarette, flipping it upside down, tobacco end up. He pulled another out, placing the filter on his lips, before closing the box and gently tossing it onto his desk. He rummaged his pockets for a lighter then flicked it, holding the flame over the end and inhaled deeply, keeping the smoke in his lungs before exhaling. “Hard to remember things when you have a headache.”
Hannibal cocked his head and smirked. “Have you tried working in a better light? Or perhaps keeping proper posture while you work?”
Will smiled, cigarette balanced on his lips while he shrugged. “These help plenty.”
Hannibal tsked and rolled his eyes. “Nicotine vasoconstricts, Will, if anything, smoking makes your headaches worse.”
“Okay doctor,” Will chuckled. He inhaled again and smiled. “Seems fine to me.” He offered to share his cigarette, but Hannibal politely declined. Will breathed in, more shallowly this time, then flicked ash into the ashtray. It was in the shape of a fish, mouth wide open to swallow discarded ash. Will remembered faint strings of hesitance in Hannibal’s hands when he gifted it to Will, handmade for his birthday. It was the only piece of art Hannibal made that Will ever saw even a hint of confidence below Hannibal’s normal threshold. It’s beautiful, Hannibal, thank you. It was green blended and blurred into dark blue, a hint of pearlescence kissing the scales.
Hannibal now sat fully on the desk, legs crossed, and he held the ashtray in the palm of his hand for Will to flick his cigarette into. He smiled as he watched Will take a slow drag, the glowing ember lighting up the faded scar on his cheek. As Will exhaled, he spoke. “You know, you seemed awfully ready to hand me a fresh pack, seeing as how bad these seem to be for me and my headaches.” He cocked a wry grin, ash spilling into the fish’s mouth.
“I quite like spoiling you, Will. It brings me pleasure to see you enjoying yourself, relaxed and at ease.” Will raised a suspicious yet playful eyebrow, both knowing full well all the events that brought them together in the first place, nothing Will would describe as joyful or relaxed. Hannibal weakly corrected with a slightly bratty tone. “That’s always been true, although I must admit, preferentially that joy would be by my hand and influence,” he smiled again, lifting his palm slightly to raise the ashtray, unblinking eyes meeting Will’s unrelenting gaze.
“Oh, so that’s all it was then?” As Will rolled his eyes, a gentle chuckle escaped past the ever-shrinking cigarette perfectly balanced on his lips, a billow of smoke spilling into the air.
Hannibal inhaled deeply in sync with Will, dissipating smoke mixed with Will’s musk, an intoxicating combination. The bittersweet burn of fresh tobacco complimented him beautifully. “Besides, if I thought a sincere habit was forming, I wouldn’t be so inclined to readily cater to your indulgence.”
Will nodded and pulled the cigarette from his lips. There it is. “Can’t have me addicted to anything but you, hmm?”
Hannibal smiled back, though from anyone else it might be confused for a slight snarl. “That goes unsaid, my dear. I also can’t have you abandon ship prematurely for something as undeserving as a cigarette. I’d quite like to see more of you. As much as I can, if possible.” Hannibal reached out and cupped Will’s face, a thumb gently stroking through his coarse, dark beard.
A pleasant silence fell between them, their eyes locked in the growing darkness as the sun slipped behind the hills. Will put out his cigarette, the short remaining filter almost a tongue in the fish’s mouth. His hand reached up to envelope Hannibal’s, stroking over Hannibal’s soft knuckles, whose own fingers in turn still wove secrets into Will’s skin. Will closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the push and pull between their movements, one flowing into the other. He pulled Hannibal’s hand to his mouth, the heat of an exhale lingered over his flesh for a moment before Will kissed him. His lips gently pressed against every knuckle of every finger. With his free hand, Will reached for Hannibal’s other hand still holding the ceramic fish, then plucked up the ashtray to set it on the desk. Will brought both of Hannibal’s hands together between his own. Inhaling the faded, delicate spice of cologne wafting from his inner wrist.
Will looked up briefly, catching Hannibal’s heavy-lidded gaze, looking fondly at him before closing his eyes again. He brought Hannibal’s fingers to his lips, kissing across and down his fingertips as he hummed softly. A lingering smell of garlic and cardamom with the slightest hint of clove faintly blessed his skin. Will knew Hannibal had been cooking, those same smells having wafted into the room, building and layering for hours. The sweet undertones of Hannibal’s scent mixed beautifully, and a smile stretched across Will’s face.
Hannibal hummed softly. “And what has you smiling, my dear?”
You, was Will’s first thought. Too simple a word encompassing so much complexity, and an answer Will knew Hannibal wouldn’t find as satisfying as a deeper dive into the sulci of his soul. Flattered, sure, but not enough detail to scratch the insatiable itch of curiosity.
Will sat up straight, fully looking up at Hannibal as his thumbs stroked Hannibal’s hands. He cocked his head, passing a brief glance at the ashtray then back at Hannibal, the tip of his tongue licking his bottom lip. “I’m curious why you let me smoke in the house. Always took you for ‘only the porch and outside’ kind of person.”
Hannibal smiled softly and nodded. “How observant of you. Yes, you’re correct, I tend to hold strict rules for my household.”
Will raised an eyebrow. “Am I your exception?” He couldn’t help but smile even wider. He knew the answer but wanted to hear Hannibal say it.
Hannibal grabbed Will’s chin, his thumb gently brushed over his lips and pulled them slightly apart and open. “When aren’t you?”
Will’s eyes fluttered. He coughed to bring focus back to his inquiry. “You never once asked me step outside.”
“And banish you like a dog?” Hannibal smiled again at how easily Will melted in his hands. “No, but it was tempting before you indulged in a bit more quality.”
“You’re telling me no one else has ever smoked in your house?” Will sighed softly at the warmth of Hannibal’s hand now cupping his face, nuzzling into his palms.
Hannibal looked up in thought and tilted his head. “Some have tried. Those who tried a second time were only invited back for dinner.” He laughed then hummed and stroked Will’s cheek for a few moments longer. “Speaking of which, dinner is ready, my dear.”
Will hummed alongside Hannibal and nodded. “I had a feeling dinner was ready.”
Hannibal raised his brow. “Oh? How so?”
“Well, for one, you aren’t one to leave it unattended on the stove for this long.” Will let out a soft chuckle and licked his lips again, already tasting it on his tongue.
“Hmm, so you knew and kept us waiting?” Hannibal tried to sound annoyed, but he couldn’t stifle his grin.
Will playfully rolled his eyes. “Oh please, you’re much too stubborn to be kept somewhere you don’t want to be.”
Hannibal hopped off the desk and offered his hand to help Will to his feet. “Won’t take me but a few moments to assemble plates, if you’d like, you can pick a wine.”
Will accepted Hannibal’s offering but first reached to pull the lamp chain to turn it off. “Red or white?”
“Any red will do, whichever you prefer.” Hannibal shrugged, thumb stroking Will’s knuckles.
Will pulled Hannibal into a soft, short kiss, rubbing the shell of his ear with his free hand. “Red it is then.” They both then walked back towards the dining room hand in hand.