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Will sat at the dining table, watching Hannibal move gracefully in their kitchen, the golden glow of candlelight casting soft shadows on the walls. It had been a year since they exchanged vows in an intimate ceremony, and tonight, Hannibal had insisted on preparing a special dinner to celebrate their first anniversary as husbands.
Will, only nineteen, still found himself in awe of the life he had built with Hannibal. The ten-year age gap between them had once been a source of insecurity, especially with his family relentlessly teasing him about his "sugar daddy." His cousins had once joked that Will had hit the jackpot, and even his aunt had pulled Hannibal aside at their wedding to ask, "So, what exactly do you see in our baby Will, other than his pretty face?" Hannibal had only smiled, responding with, "Everything."
The scent of seared duck and rosemary filled the air as Hannibal plated their meal with practiced precision. He turned to Will with that knowing smile, his dark eyes gleaming. "A feast worthy of the occasion," he said, setting the dish in front of Will.
"You're spoiling me," Will murmured, picking up his fork.
"It is my greatest pleasure," Hannibal replied smoothly, pouring them each a glass of deep red wine. "But before we dine, a proper toast is in order."
Hannibal reached for the chilled bottle of champagne resting in a silver bucket. He wiped the condensation from the glass with a crisp linen napkin before expertly unfastening the foil and wire cage. Will leaned forward slightly, watching with amusement as Hannibal, ever the perfectionist, adjusted his grip on the bottle.
With a gentle twist, the cork released with an unexpectedly forceful pop, and a sudden burst of foam erupted from the neck of the bottle—splashing directly onto Hannibal’s face.
Will’s eyes widened in shock before a laugh burst from his lips. Hannibal, standing there with champagne dripping from his usually immaculate expression, blinked in mild surprise.
Will clutched his stomach, his laughter bubbling uncontrollably. "Oh my god, you—" He gasped between fits of mirth. "You actually look—"
"Drenched in extravagance?" Hannibal supplied dryly, reaching for a napkin to dab at his face. A smirk tugged at his lips despite his attempt at composure.
Will wiped at his own eyes, trying to calm himself. "I was going to say ridiculous, but sure, let’s go with that."
Hannibal shook his head with an exasperated fondness, finally chuckling along with Will. He poured what remained in the bottle into their flutes before stepping closer to Will’s chair, leaning down until their faces were only inches apart.
"It seems I've given you quite the gift tonight," Hannibal mused, his voice laced with amusement. "Laughter suits you."
Will, still grinning, reached up to brush Hannibal’s damp cheek. "Best anniversary ever."
Hannibal hummed in agreement, pressing a lingering kiss to Will’s lips, tasting the laughter still dancing between them. The kiss deepened, slow and intoxicating, the warmth between them making time itself seem to pause. Will sighed softly, threading his fingers into Hannibal’s damp hair, pulling him even closer.
Hannibal let out a quiet, contented hum, his hands resting at Will’s waist, holding him with a reverence that made Will’s heartache in the best way. When they finally parted, Hannibal rested his forehead against Will’s, their breaths mingling, the world around them fading into irrelevance.
"To us," Will whispered against his mouth.
"To us," Hannibal echoed, as they clinked their glasses together, their love as intoxicating as the champagne in their hands.