Heart in hand and eyes longing to receive it, for they had waited too long. Tears struggle to come out but their owner, aware of that struggle, is stronger. Maybe he was dreaming and didn't even know it. Seen like that, he didn't want to wake up either.
- What will you do with him?
The blue eyes finally look at him, as close as they have ever been. He knows he'd do anything for them, knows he'll do them when the time comes.
- Any suggestions, Will?
His fingers rest on that heart, he wants to grab it and run, because what if he regrets it? The young man beside him smiles and in that smile Hannibal forgets that he once knew what it was like to suffer.
- You're a psychiatrist. Can you live sharing your heart?
Hannibal nods without letting go. It's mine, he thinks, I deserve it. Give it to me, I'll take care of it.
- Are you aware of this, dear? Do you know who you're giving him to? - the part of him, newly human, that puts Will before himself is the one that speaks.
Will pushes it into Hannibal's chest, strategically next to his. Their fingers brush, as Hannibal doesn't let go, and in that act Will recognises how lonely it must have been. So many years, so much effort and struggle.
- I love you, Hannibal. I know the name of every stone you carry with you. I'm not an idiot, and I'm not a child.
- But it's...
- And yet, it's yours. Tell me about today.
- Today? - Hannibal, ever present, has forgotten what day it is. He shakes his head and focuses, remembering his place in the world. Today is Valentine's Day.
Will nods, his fingers caressing Hannibal's lightly.
- He was a martyr, killed in Roman times for marrying young lovers when it was forbidden, as they had to join the army. He restored a young girl's sight in what they say was a miracle, and yet he was beheaded. Why...?
Will kisses him, pressing his body against his. His heart, the part of him that no longer belongs to him, pumps between the two of them so fast, and along with it, Hannibal's, who so longed for his company.
- What will you do with him? - he asks again.
Hannibal's answer appears in his hands, greedy and hungry. In his fingers unbuttoning Will's shirt and in his amber eyes looking up from his knees.
- Let me show you how much I belong to you too - because showing off like this means being strong, he thinks. He, so little given to being direct.
Will's gaze skyward and his hips ramming Hannibal's mouth fill in the story of the book between the two of them. How many wasted words that now came together to form the present, the one that smiled at them both, where there was also the possibility of hurting each other.
- Happy Valentine's Day, Hannibal. Even if, for him, things didn't turn out as expected.
Will's heart was with his, and this time by his own choice. The profiler's love, sincere, direct and strong, accompanying his own knowing exactly who he was, what he was, and how chaotic his life was. It didn't matter if he deserved it or not. Far away was such a question. To love Will was to love love itself.
