It was their third month anniversary and Hannibal had something special in mind for Will tonight.
A healthy dinner was in order, made of actual pork this time, which was his beloved's favorites; along with some good wine and perhaps some music to get Will into a fine mood.
Maybe they would even get to the next step of their relationship tonight; making out like two teenagers on the doctor's brown leather couch.
See, even though the two had been together for some time they had not progressed romantically very much. Will didn't like touching or being touched, so, relationships were a hard thing for him; even though he seemed to trust Hannibal above anyone else it was still a challenge, one that the psychiatrist gladly accepted.
He cherished Will, and would wait for him for quite some time.
But, he had to admit, touching himself in the dead of night to the chorus of Will's earlier words and lovely image was getting old, quickly. He longed for the real thing, the real heat of the man he so craved.
Perhaps, he thought, he could just wait until they were married...
Will arrived a few minutes earlier than the set time, his dress shirt a little wrinkled, but that didn't matter; Hannibal could see the dilation in the man's pupils as he caught sight of his boyfriend as he entered the house.
"Hi," the empath whispered, light eyes darting from floor to face.
"Hello," Hannibal answered back easily with a secret smile, oh, how the man was amusing. "Come in and have a seat, dinner should be ready in a while, so make yourself comfortable in the mean time."
Will nodded absent mindedly, his lean fingers twisting at the loop holes and pockets of his pants. It made Hannibal's own hands itch to claim those pale apendages as his own.
But, instead, he hurried back into the kitchen to finish making their simple dinner. A male who could not provide for his mate was not worthy of them, after all.
Will seemed surprised as he was served, almost hand and foot, by his almost lover. The taste of the wine and oddly delicious roast lingered on Hannibal's tongue as he watched his Will eat ravenously, the sight making the doctor ache for him even more.
After dinner was over with, and they had moved into the living room with their wine, Hannibal slipped closer to the smaller man, letting his arm hang around the back of the couch, not touching Will, but simply reassuring him of his presence. The consultant either ignored it, or truly did not notice the motion.
"Will," he said, his voice low and rugged because of the wine and true darkness within him, "do you feel as though we have been successful so far in our endeavors?"
Will inhaled sharply through his nose and set his wine on the table, glancing at the other from the corner of his eye, "why do you ask?"
Hannibal let his fingers trail closer to Will then, let them touch the crisp outline of his collar, "I want to know if you are happy with me. I wish to provide you with every happiness after all."
The words were true, but, they still sounded deceptively sweet on his lips, something that tasted of honey and garbage.
"I-I, I am happy," Will sputtered, that beautiful mouth hanging wide open, and, sometime, he had forgotten his fear and was staring at his boyfriend head on.
"Then why do you not sound sure?" The question was honest brutality, something that Hannibal usually covered up.
Will was silent for a moment, staring down at a point on Hannibal's wrist, perhaps on the gold watch there or the cuff links. Then, quietly, "because...I want more."
It felt like all of the oxygen had suddenly been divested from the room.
Will continued on, unaware of Hannibal's silent plight, "I want us to be more, I..." he paused, obviously stuck in his words, and looked up at the taller man again, "I want to give myself to you."
The silence was thick and suffocating, like butter on bread, and Will was obviously nervous and awkward as Hannibal thought of those words and his soon-to-be response.
"You...are sure, about this?" Will had to be certain, had to know what he wanted.
Those oddly defiant eyes met his, "I'm sure."
That was that then.
Hannibal set his glass done with a refined grace and leaned forward to press his lips to Will's, enjoying the feeling of those slightly chapped lips against his, the softness of the skin at the nape of Will's neck when he slid his hand there.
He pulled back a moment later, breathing against his love, "I would have you, if you would give yourself up."
That was all it took, those green eyes staring back at him, something Will rarely did; the feeling as though the empath could see everything behind the mask, then, "I offer what was always yours."
A toothy grin from the predator, and all trepidation was forgotten...
Will didn't really remember how they made it to Hannibal's bedroom, or how all of their clothes seem to have disappeared and were relocated to the floor, but, then again, he couldn't bring himself to care about these things.
The doctor's chest was pressed up against his, and all Will could think of was the heat, the sweat, and the masculine scent of the one above him.
Hannibal was staring down at him, Will only brave enough to meet his gaze because of the wine and endorphins, the other's eyes glowing nearly red in the dim lighting.
As the doctor studied him Will quelled the need to cover himself up, to go slink away and never return to the home or office of the foreign genius. But, he couldn't get away anyway, Hannibal would just come after him and drag him back, just like he always did.
When the other had looked his fill he let the tips of his fingers trail down the satin of Will's skin, his pupils still focused on Will's though. "I would make you mine, forever," he whispered, "if you would permit it William Graham."
That sounded oddly like a marriage proposal, but Will didn't pay any attention to it, only breathlessly licking his lips and nodding his head, repeating, "yes," over and over again until Hannibal was touching him everywhere and it all became so dazed and heated.
It was hard to understand was happened after that, Will thought to himself, he only remembered wet fingers at his hole, rubbing him where no other had ever touched before; smooth lips kissing at his neck as a sharp nose ran along his jaw; the doctor whispered "mine," over and over again as he thrust deep into Will, the slippery feel of lube, blood, and precum slipping out and onto the sheets.
Will barely remembered the way he had cried out when he reached his peak, grabbing onto Hannibal's hair and wrapping his legs tighter around the other's waist. He did, however, remember Hannibal releasing his essence inside of Will, pushing it deeper into his hole even after he was spent; like he could stay inside of Will forever.
And, of course, Will remembered the end, when Hannibal curled up around him, the big spoon, and draped the silky sheets around the drying bodies, both of them nestled together of Hannibal's bed like they had been made to be there...
