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Will arrived at Hannibal's with a sense of unease that he couldn't quite shake. He felt terrible, more like ripping his hair out than stepping inside the Doctor's house, but he hadn't really got a choice now did he? Now he wished he could take it back, just for tonight. To forget and enjoy whatever followed. Whipping the last tears off with his sleeve he stepped inside.
As he watched Hannibal elegantly move through the crowd, his mind was filled with a turbulent mixture of emotions—guilt, sadness, and shame. All this just to realize that he already had everything he ever wanted - or rather someone. He had heard Alana's words, and they had shaken him to the core. He'd been so blind, so naive to think he would need Alana for stability. Hannibal was his anchor; he'd always been and what begging poor creature was he to leave such blessing in a fashionable suit jacket. Shaking his head Will entered Hannibal's heart of the house.
In the pristine kitchen, his lover stood alone, staring at a carefully prepared dish that seemed to have lost its appeal judging Hannibal devastating glare.
When Will entered the kitchen, he could feel the tension in the air. The profiler approached Hannibal hesitantly, heading for a kiss. His greedy arms sneaked around Hannibal's white apron covered waist from behind so naturally it scared, but not stopped Will for a second. His love was just such eye-candy dressed in his cooking attire. His lips met Hannibal’s, selfishly hoping to erase any guilt sticking to them. “Hm… Tasting as sweet as always, doctor.” Will hummed against the soft lips during another kiss. After a while of sweet intimacy his partner still wasn’t really responsive towards Will’s affection which Will thought was a shame compared to their usually nearly overbearing acts as love-language.
Maybe Hannibal was in need of some encouragement. Will knew by now how harsh his lover could be on himself, especially while trying out new recipes.
Without letting go of his lover Will turned his head over to glance at the little tarts shining temptingly at him with a thick sugarcoat and strawberries. "Well, aren’t that some tasty masterpieces."
Tensing muscles moved underneath his fingers as he felt Hannibal slowly breaking the soft gesture by removing himself from Will's starving touch. Stunned he reluctantly let go as it wasn’t very Hannibal-like to break their sweet moments first.
And then it hit him, the change in the atmosphere as he took a first proper look at Hannibal’s posture. Hannibal's cold demeanour sent a shiver down his spine.
"How's my lovely chef doing tonight? Hey... What's wrong?" Will asked, confusion and concern etched on his face. Quickly his eyes searched the whole room taking in every ounce of the scene. All dishes were meticulously crafted and ready to serve, no guest were missing, and all seemed fine. He couldn't possibly find a clue for his lover's misery.
Hannibal turned to face Will fully, his voice carrying a stiff edge around the name, depriving it of all love. "Will," he began, his words dripping with a mixture of unease and dissatisfaction. "I think it's best if you leave."
Will's heart sank as he tried to make sense of the situation. "Hannibal, I don't understand."
"I did not expect your presence tonight." He answered, which earned him a confused look on Will's face. "But... but you invited me, Han." Will said, stumbling over his words, embarrassed he'd gotten the dates wrong. Trying to play it cool he reached out, heading for a comforting hug for his boyfriend. "My talented chef of a boyfriend is showing off his creations. Why shouldn't I look after you in such busy times?" It was a poor excuse he planned to cover with a kiss. Said boyfriend only took a step aside as if refusing contact at all chances.
Hannibal's gaze bore into Will's eyes, his voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "Alana called me," he said, the words heavy with accusation. Dread filled Will's body and he had to take a deep breath before losing himself completely. "She asked for a relationship advice. As an act of friendship, but also for my opinion as a fellow psychiatrist."
Understanding dawned on Will, and he felt a profound sense of guilt wash over him. Hannibal said nothing further, he did not have to. The truth was clear—Will's actions had caused this strange behaviour.
"I'm so sorry, Hannibal. But it was just one kiss and she-" Will whispered, his hand reaching out to sooth his beloved's anger.
"I told her to go for it. Told her you two would look great together," Hannibal snapped sharp and Will withdrew his fingers quickly in fear as Hannibal gritted his teeth. "Although I might fear she tends to view you more as a project than a potential lover, but who knows..." The older man spoke with a fake carefree attitude that resembled a picture of a sulking toddler.
"Hannibal- I... Uhh..." The profiler's legs nearly gave out at the look Hannibal send his way.
Hannibal's stern expression melted away, his pretence giving way to a deep sadness. He reached out and gently touched Will's cheek, his thumb tracing the lines of Will's face. "As a psychiatrist I would advise us to have a talk in a neutral environment, but in all honesty; I'd rather not see you for a while, Will." he murmured.
Will nodded, his eyes filled with tears. Hannibal reacted reasonable and it would be the right thing to follow his request. But then, halfway out the kitchen door though, he suddenly stopped in his track at Hannibal's last words.
His voice rang softly through the room as they reached Will's ears with prickling clarity. "Encephalitis! Uhm... I mean, your brain should get supervised. I suspect you might suffer from encephalitis." Hannibal sounded so hesitant as if any following word could break what’s left between them.
"What?" Words weren't easy tonight and Will had trouble raising his voice above a stunned whisper. "What do you mean?"
"Your nightmares and loss of time may take root in... brain inflammation. I booked a doctor’s appointment for us already, but you may prefer to take Alana with you now, rather than me."
A surge of uncalled defiance rushed through him. "No."
"I beg your pardon, Will?" He heard Hannibal turn and practically felt the confused look burning between his shoulder blades. Then he turned around to face his beloved doctor.
"I mean... No. You can't just say such things."
"And why that?"
Slowly, tears built in his eyes while his system tried to cope with all the uncalled frustration and anger bubbling up inside him. "You can't! You- You are- Because this wasn't my intention... because you're so caring and all I did was complain and pity myself during our time together!" His voice cracked and more tears fell on the floor. "You're my first boyfriend. I need you... I don't want to fuck this up..." he cried, struggling to not simply reach out and press Hannibal against him and never let go again. "I don't want to leave you without knowing you. You'll come with me to that appointment and afterwards I want to know your problems, your fears and struggles. I want you to complain, if only once, please..."
He knew he must look terribly pathetic and selfish to Hannibal right now. All the sobbing and stammering wasn't helping his case. He felt like a crying and kicking child who just broke his new toy, but he didn't care. Hannibal was his toy, his first toy who he'd loved so much it hurt and who gave him the feeling of being understood. He felt safe with him.
So ungrateful... he felt so ungrateful and undeserving of Hannibal. His sweet psychiatrist turned lover who had cook for him a thousand times and bought him lunch to work if he'd forgotten it in the morning. Sweet Hannibal who drove nearly every day an hour to his place at night to comfort him after a seizure or another nightmare. Who dealt with his complaints about Jack on a daily basis and now also booked an appointment for a soon treatment for his encephalitis and all this while Will was blandly cheating on him with a woman not half as interested in him as he'd wished for. He'd shattered his lover's heart in a fuss of 'what if...', just to realize no-one could satisfy or understand him like Hannibal did ever since the second they met.
"I want to make things right, I really do." Will said, his voice trembling. "Please, Hannibal, let me prove it and try to earn you back, but please don't make me leave." He reached out a second time expecting to get rejected again, but to his surprise and joy Hannibal let himself be drawn into another warm embrace. With a soft huff Hannibal buried his face into Will's soft brown curls.
"You've finally got Alana like you always wanted. Aren't you happy Will? If I recall correctly, you told me you always wanted a wife and children. I've no doubt Alan is the perfect base to recreate you desires." He saw how much it must hurt Hannibal to say it out loud, cause the doctor had to look away mid-sentence as tears threatened break through his barriers of control. "Desires whom I'll never be able to fulfil you. You should take the chance." Will felt his lover's hot tears burning against his skin as Hannibal pressed soft kisses against Will's neck nibbling at the salty skin as if to taste the truth.
It was overwhelming, the sense of Hannibal once again in his arm and tightly pressed against his chest. He couldn't stop himself from tearing up once more at the realization Hannibal had just shared one of his fears with him, even if not directly intended to. Carefully he took the doctor's face in his hands as he whipped the dried tears off his pretty face before heading for a kiss. "I don't want that if it's not with you. Do you understand? Who needs some wife if I have you by my side... Well... if you'd still want to be by my side that is?" He'd never felt so nervous in his life, his mind prayed into the abyss of the universe to let Hannibal give him another opportunity to make things right.
"I'd like that very much."