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Title: Anticipation
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Will Graham/Sherlock Holmes
Fandom: Hannibal/Sherlock
Rating: PG-13
Table: 9, 50ficlets
Prompt: 41, Date
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Hannibal Lecter or Will Graham, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.***
Will adjusted his tie, feeling self-conscious as he gazed into the mirror. Did he look okay? Was he dressed appropriately? Should he be more casual?
No, Sherlock had told him that this was a date.
He had no idea where they were going; all he knew was that it was a restaurant in the town that their house in the country was close to. An Italian restaurant.
It had been so long since he'd been on a date that he barely remembered what he was supposed to do. He'd never really been in this position before, though; he'd never been the one who was being taken out. He had always done the asking in the past.
It was a new and novel experience, to be the person who was on the receiving end. Will was finding that he liked that experience; it made him feel .... desired.
It was gratifying to know that Sherlock would go to such lengths to please him.
Will smiled at his image in the mirror; he really did look good. He cleaned up nicely when he felt like it, and he would do Sherlock proud.
His dark curls were tumbling over his forehead, but it was a look that suited him, so he didn't push them back. He was wearing a dark blue suit and tie, since Sherlock had said that it was a formal restaurant; the silvery blue shirt set off the blue of his eyes.
Pushing a hand through his hair, Will took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. His first real date in years. This should be an adventure.
Turning from the mirror, he headed out of his bedroom and downstairs.
By the time he got halfway down the steps and his gaze alighted on Sherlock, he stopped, frozen in place, unable to move a muscle.
He wouldn't have thought that any mere human being could look so utterly gorgeous. Sherlock was wearing a midnight blue suit and a pale lavender shirt, his dark hair brushed back, a slight smile on those perfect lips. Will had never seen anyone look so .... utterly desirable.
It should be a sin for anyone to look that good in a suit.
And this man was his, he reminded himself. Sherlock had chosen to be with him; Sherlock wanted him, wanted them to spend their lives together.
How had he gotten so lucky? Will moved down the last few steps as though in a dream, walking up to his boyfriend and taking Sherlock's hands in his own.
"You look gorgeous," he said, the only words he could think of that seemed to fit the moment.
"So do you, Will," Sherlock answered, a smile on his lips as he pulled Will into his arms. Those pale eyes gazed into his, so much promise in their depths, a promise that Will wanted to answer with his own gaze. Seconds later, those lips were on Will's.
He couldn't think, could barely breathe. When Sherlock kissed him like this, it was as though the world fell away, and there was nothing left but the two of them.
His hands moved to thread through Sherlock's hair, drawing him closer.
All he wanted was for this kiss to go on forever; they didn't need to go out, even though they had both taken the time to dress nicely. He just needed to be with Sherlock.
They could do that best here, alone, in this house that they'd rented, the house where they had complete and utter privacy. The house where, if things went as he was hoping they would, he could give himself to Sherlock in every way, physically as well as emotionally.
Will was tempted to suggest that they cancel their reservations, that they stay at home, and begin to travel down that path of desire to see just where it might lead them.
But no, they couldn't do that. Not tonight.
Sherlock had taken the time to make reservations at a nice restaurant, and to ask Will out on a date. He couldn't cancel those plans.
He wanted to spend the evening out with Sherlock, wanted to show his handsome boyfriend off to the rest of the world. He wanted to be seen with this man, to allow himself to feel pride at being the person who Sherlock Holmes chose to be with.
These thoughts flashed through his mind within a few seconds; when they finally pulled away from the kiss, all he could do was stare into Sherlock's eyes.
All thoughts, all words, had disappeared from his mind.
All he could do was gaze at Sherlock, losing himself in those gorgeous eyes. Losing himself in that look of love, the look that made his breath catch in his throat.
"Are you ready, my sweet?" Sherlock asked, his voice low and husky. That voice did strange things to Will's heart; he was sure that he could feel it turning somersaults in his chest, trying to burst out of his body to nestle within Sherlock's embrace.
He nodded in acknowledgement of Sherlock's words, then finally managed to find his voice. "Yeah, I'm as ready as I'll ever be," he managed to say, his voice surprisingly steady.
Inside, he felt anything but steady. He was quivering with anticipation.
Anything could happen once they got home from their date. Going out to dinner and talking was only the beginning of the evening. Much more could happen after that.
There was no telling what they might talk about. They might not even be able to make it through dinner; it was possible that they would be home much sooner than they planned.
And if they were .... Will's heart raced at the thought of what could happen, if they were both in the right mood and felt that they were ready to take the next step in their relationship.
Suddenly, he couldn't wait for the night to begin.***
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