Work Text:
Will awoke from his nap on the couch to the sharp smell of onions being pan-fried in a light glaze of olive oil. He rubbed at the back of his neck, freeing the curls that had stuck to his pinking skin as he slept. He brushed them into something neater with his fingertips, before gathering himself together and unhinging his legs from where they rested over upholstered arm.
As his feet dropped to the floor, he became aware of the crumpled, plush blanket that laid there. He knew he hadnt brought it out with him because he hadnt intended on falling asleep. That meant that Hannibal had seen him napping and covered him with itonly to have Will shrug it off his unconscious and picky body.
Will laughed. That seemed about right.
Hauling himself up off the couch, he followed the sounds of cooking to find Hannibal with his back turned to the entrance. He was mixing some concoction together on the island, his shoulders rotating laboriously with each stir.
Will shuffled on socked feet across the hardwood floor, bring his sleep-hazed mind to the attention of his only socked feet and the fact the he had definitely been wearing shoes before drifting off. Hannibal must have taken the liberty of removing those for him, too. He wondered where they'd gone off too; they were most likely stored back where they belonged, on the rack in their closet, even though Will preferred to keep them by the door.
The lighting of the late afternoon sun had turned the room a soft tangerine, making the place feel tropical despite the way the cold tiles made his feet ache.
Hannibal was dressed in mostly white and the light had its way with that too; turning him the same yellow the stars held and making him glow in this already well-lit room. The seams running down the back of his well tailored shirt grabbed at his back in a way that made wrapping an arm around his lean waist the only possible option.
When Will reached Hannibal, he swooped his hand into him and gave the place above Hannibal's hip a tight squeeze, using his body on Hannibal's opposite as a solid to pull him in to.
Hannibal jumped at the touch and, at first, Will celebrated in the realization that he had startled him. He had only been able to sneak up on Hannibal twice that he was aware of, and both times Hannibal had robbed him of witnessing what true surprise looked like when he wore it. The look was always replaced by an abrupt turning of his head, upturn of his nose, and frustrating smirk. Now, thanks to the over-powering smell of freshly massacred onions and the strangled sound of softly socked feet, Hannibal's surprise was in full view; His eyes were wide, jaw softly slack, and spine ridged against Will's embrace. Every fraction of this look was Will's new favorite and he let himself stare until he was certain it was permanently engraved in his mind.
Will prepared a gentle apology, planning to play this off without too much fuss, when his mind stumbled on a factor of the situation he had not yet accounted for: how Hannibal had jumped.
He took a bit more time to consider the very specific way the muscles in Hannibal's side had contracted and pulled away from his finger tips. The motion was familiar, not with Hannibal, but with others Will had grabbed in this way. Slowly, Will could feel the genuine smile fade from his lips as he cocked his head in curiosity.
Hannibal knew the look well; the look of Will when he was plotting. When only mischief twinkled within his darkening eyes, and his lips moved to form words he hadn't yet planned to say, Hannibal typically found himself overjoyed by the expression. The temptation to ask what dark curiosities played behind his eyes, within the shadows of his mind, was a compelling one that he always indulged in. Especially when these thoughts were so obviously turned in his direction, leaving him as the victim, he still yearned to know "what are you thinking about?"
This time, however, he didn't care to know. He didn't want to know or need to hear it from Will. The only word Hannibal felt inclined to say in this moment was, "Don't."
Before the command had properly left his mouth, Will had started half-laughing through words he never believed he'd need to say, a statement he couldn't imagine being true: "You're ticklish."
As he spoke he jabbed under Hannibal's ribs again, on the opposite side as before, while still holding him in his arm so he couldn't fully squirm away.
"Will." Hannibal said, as if adding his name to their conversation would somehow cause Will to take this situation more seriously. "Don't." He repeated, dropping the utensils he was using to mix with and stepping back from the island. There was a gravelly sound in his voice that, as soon as he heard it manifest in his tone, caused him to realize his plight was hopeless. The sound was meant as a threat, like growl, but Will always took it as a challenge.
Will squeezed at him again, and again, alternating which side he was attacking until Hannibal's body was twisting from him.
Each each step in Hannibal's path was an attempt to move from him before Will's fingers made contact; each step fruitless. Will copied each movement, following him and keeping him crowded.
"Will." Hannibal tried to plead with him again. His voice still sounded authoritative despite the way it hiccuped around Will's continuing abdominal assault.
"How long have I been living with you?" Will asked, ignoring completely the way Hannibal's hands were beginning to lift and stretch outward in a shielding position. "How long have you evaded showing this to me?"
"Will." Hannibal could feel the kitchen wall closing in on his back. Will traded his careful jabs for batting and dancing fingertips along the shape of Hannibal's ribcage.
"Ticklish." Will whispered to himself. "What a discovery."
Hannibal's back touched against the wall, destroying any aspiration he had of escape. With Will's hands feverishly teasing at his sides and the maddening, choking itch that grew beneath his lungs, Hannibal felt helpless. He was breaking against Will and the curving of his lips as he had fun with his discovery, and was losing to the sound ready to leap from his teeth that Hannibal had been fighting so hard to keep at bay.
When Hannibal started to laugh, Will unconsciously softened his touch. He moved slower, and took the time to really hear the sound erupting from this man. It was hectic but soothing, like a downpour- urging to be walked in and bathed in. Will had heard Hannibal laugh before, but not without Hannibal's automatic self-restriction. This was an honest laugh, brought on by only the annoyance of the nerves resting under Hannibal's skin- another thing Hannibal had jurisdiction over, how much he felt and how much he didn't feel. In this instance, Hannibal was exposed, vulnerable, and laughing.
When Will stopped tickling him and Hannibal relaxed, Hannibal pushed him away. He stayed against the wall, his head tipped back and adorned with an expression that held more discontent with himself than it did for Will.
Will kissed him through his scowl, finally enacting his planned, gentle apology. "All this time and you're still keeping secrets from me." He said through lips still pressed to the corner of Hannibal's mouth. Will pressed his body deeply back into Hannibal's personal space, hips touching hips.
Regardless of his irritation, Hannibal accepted Will's kiss and kissed him again when he was finished speaking. He had spent too much of his life not kissing Will to allow this opportunity to ever go to waste. He brought his hands up Will's back in a way to confirm he wanted Will to stay there.
"This particular secret," Hannibal said, disappointment heavy on his lips. "I have kept for the better part of 3 decades."
Will's smile grew wider. He dipped his head to rest their cheeks together. "Yet another mask that I've been able to pull from you." He teased into Hannibal's ear.
Will cautiously brought his hands back to Hannibal's waist, careful to make it obvious he wasn't going to indulge himself again. Still, he felt Hannibal's body tighten in preparation for something that wasn't coming. Feeling the slightest bit of guilt, Will continued with his apology by lifting Hannibal's hips from the wall, to shift against them in a kind of dance before letting them sink back to the wall together.
"Don't worry, Hannibal." Will said before pressing another kiss against the base of Hannibal's cheekbone. "I'll keep this one to myself."