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It was late, later than they used to allow themselves to stay up, but neither of them seemed very willing to call it a night.
That afternoon had been a lazy one, Will curled up barefoot on the sofa with a book on his lap and Hannibal sketching the way the sunset’s light came through the window pane and set Will’s curls on fire. After that, an equally slow dinner had bled into a quiet after-dinner Scotch around the fireplace. Now, Will’s music sounding in the speakers changed to a song Hannibal didn’t know and caught his attention immediately. It was nice and beautiful, and he left his almost empty tumbler on the end table next to his armchair and stood up without stopping to reconsider what he was doing.
As soon as he was on his feet, he realized he had drunk more than he thought, the alcohol making him slightly light-headed for a moment. Probably the Scotch’s fault, since he wasn’t used to it. But still, he ran a hand across his sweater to smoothen the fabric before offering his left hand to Will. The other looked from the rim of his glass to the hand, and then, very slowly, up to Hannibal’s eyes. He knew, judging by Will’s glassy eyes, that even if he was more familiarized with that particular beverage, he was slightly affected too.
Will didn’t take his hand. Hannibal waited for a long moment, two, as Will held his gaze. Hannibal thought he had made a mistake, the alcohol having emboldened his actions… But then, Will slowly left his glass beside his own, and in a careful movement, placed his fingers over Hannibal’s and stood up, accompanying Hannibal’s pull in perfect synchrony. As a result, their bodies were already very close, a little too close, but Hannibal had started this, and he wasn’t about to back off now. And so, he swallowed and looked down as he slid his hand carefully around Will’s waist, almost as if he expected the man to pull away then. But Will didn’t move away. He didn’t move when Hannibal placed his hand on Will’s lower back. And he didn’t move when Hannibal shifted their already joined hands, taking it properly between his fingers. Will did move when Hannibal pulled their bodies closer, lifting his hand and placing it on Hannibal’s shoulder as their chests met. And just like that, Hannibal started swaying at the song’s slow rhythm.
Hannibal closed his eyes almost as soon as their feet started swinging, Will’s earthy scent and the feeling of his fingers sinking into his shoulder overwhelming his senses. But then Will leaned against him, his cheek touching Hannibal’s and his stubble tickling Hannibal’s jaw. He contained the need that burned inside him in that moment, the desire of tightening his hold around Will, the want of burying his face in his neck and get lost in his scent, in the contact against that alive, burning skin that could be the only nourishment he ever needed… But he contained himself, only a twitch in the fingers splayed in Will’s back betraying him. Will still felt it, because he suddenly pulled back, their dance paused, and looked at Hannibal’s eyes. He knew what Will would find in them. He would find the bliss Hannibal felt at being so very close to Will, of just being there with him. He would find, too, the desire that bit him from the inside, the devotion he had felt for the man for so many years now. He would find what Hannibal knew he had hidden poorly through the years, and much worse after the night in which Will had pulled them both from the enraged sea, from their rebirth on the water, and pushed the life back into Hannibal’s lungs. But no matter how much that feeling stung inside Hannibal, he had always been able to control it, to always respect Will’s boundaries... And still, in that moment, he felt his gaze drop from Will’s half-open eyes to his flushed cheeks, and down to his half-parted, rosy lips. Hannibal licked his own involuntarily, and he heard himself gasping before bowing his head down trying to get a hold of himself. He would not, not now or ever, taint what he had with Will because of his unrequited desires. He would not let that happen…
Hannibal felt Will’s hand disentangling from his, and he thought the man would pull away and retire back to the armchair or his own room. But then, that very same hand cupped his cheek and tilted his face up. Hannibal furrowed his brow as Will leaned in, and suddenly their lips were pressed together. Will tasted like scotch, like the beef they had eaten for dinner, and like the wine they had shared. But even if Hannibal must’ve tasted in the same way, he knew it was very, very different. Because Will tasted like Will, like everything Hannibal had wanted to taste, like nothing he could’ve ever imagined he would taste like.
When the other parted his lips and sucked on Hannibal’s lower lip in a painstakingly slow kiss, Hannibal came undone, Will’s hand moving to cradle Hannibal’s neck when he tilted his head further into the kiss. And then, his tongue coiled around Hannibal’s, and he heard a helpless moan coming out of his own throat.
Will pulled back, opening his eyes as if he had just woken up from a dream. And Hannibal thought that it very much could’ve been a dream, because he could still feel the touch of Will’s lips against his, and the man’s hand was still on Hannibal’s face.
Will cleared his throat and pulled back, and looked around, looking more alert than he had been all day.
“I think we should go to sleep,” he said then, running a hand over his scarred cheek.
“Yes… we should,” Hannibal agreed.
Hannibal nodded, a little disappointed despite knowing it was for the best. Did he want to stay there and look at Will’s eyes as the other realized what they had just done, as he realized the mistake he probably thought he had made…? No, Hannibal very much would rather to be in a different room when that happened.
He took the two glasses from the table and headed for the kitchen. When he walked by Will, the man grabbed his forearm, just a light touch, but enough to freeze Hannibal on the spot. Hannibal looked from the place in which Will’s fingers curled around his sweater up to his face, and he saw a fire in his gaze. He wondered if it was his own blazing desire, reflected in those stormy eyes, but Will spoke before he could make up his mind.
“It doesn’t have to be in separate rooms.”
Hannibal’s silent nod came even before his mind had processed Will’s words, and in response, Will licked his own reddened lips before tilting his head too, the slightest of smiles curling the corners of his mouth upwards.
“I’ll wait for you in my room.”
Will turned off the music and went out, leaving Hannibal alone in the living room.
Hannibal allowed himself a moment. He closed his eyes and reveled in the memory of Will’s lips over his, in the look Will had given him right before going out and the promise of many new, unexplored things in the form of a smile.
When he opened his eyes, he went out turning the lights off in his way, a smile of his own easing the weight he had carried for so long.