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Title: A Promise For the Future
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Prompt: #520, Civil
Author's Note: One-shot.
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 sat on the couch in Hannibal's office, his arms crossed over his chest, his lips set in a firm, straight line. He didn't want to be here, didn't want to be talking to Hannibal at the moment. This man was only making him angry, making him feel small and scared and childish.
How dare Hannibal say that he was afraid to take steps forward, afraid to explore new things? How dare he question Will's integrity? Will didn't think he'd ever been so angry in his life; he felt that he had put his trust in the wrong place.
He wasn't a child. And he wasn't afraid to let Hannibal take his hand and guide him into a relationship that, only yesterday, had seemed impossible.
He thought back to yesterday, to the kiss they hard shared, to the feelings it had engendered within him. He had never thought that anyone could make him feel like that -- no woman, and no man. He hadn't known just how responsive he could be.
And yesterday, until Hannibal had kissed him, he hadn't known what he wanted.
Now he did.
He wanted Hannibal.
Will didn't care how crazy it might seem, how wrong other people might think it was. He wanted to be with Hannibal. Not just as a friend, or a colleague, but as a lover. He wanted to give himself to Hannibal utterly and completely, in every way that he could.
That knowledge was more than a little frightening, but he wasn't going to turn away from it. Now that he had finally acknowledged to himself that he wanted this man, he wasn't going to turn back from the path that he'd firmly set himself on.
Only Hannibal seemed to think that he would. Hannibal didn't seem to trust in what he felt, thinking that it was only an infatuation that wouldn't last.
Well, he was wrong. And Will intended to prove that to him.
But how was he going to prove to Hannibal that what he felt was something that would last, if they barely even being civil to each other? They were simply sitting here, staring across the space between the chairs that they were sitting in, not speaking.
He hated this silence between them; it made him feel as though he and Hannibal were on opposite sides of a line that had been drawn in the dirt, a line that neither of them wanted to cross or compromise on. He hated feel so far removed from the man he wanted.
It had only been one kiss, but Will knew that he would never be the same again now that he knew what it was like to be kissed by Hannibal Lecter.
It hadn't been just a kiss. Not for him. For him, it had been a revelation, an opening up to the feelings he'd know that he had, but hadn't wanted to admit to before Hannibal's lips had touched his. It had been en epiphany, a discovery of who he really was.
And what he really wanted.
He had never doubted that he was attracted to Hannibal; he'd known that from the first time they had met. But, like Hannibal, he had thought that attraction was just a momentary thing, just an infatuation, something that would quickly fade.
Only it hadn't faded. It had only grown stronger; he'd felt that attraction more acutely each time he was near Hannibal, and it had kept getting harder to hide.
When Hannibal had finally kissed him, he had known that the attraction existed on both sides, and his heart had leapt for joy in his chest. But Hannibal had backed away from him as quickly as he'd kissed him, saying that he didn't think Will was ready for this.
Not ready? How could he not be ready? He'd been ready since the first time they'd met.
He knew that Hannibal had meant emotionally ready, as well as physically, but he had it backwards. Will doubted that he was physically ready to be with Hannibal, but he knew that emotionally, he was more than prepared to move towards the other man.
He had never been physically involved with anyone; that wasn't going to be easy for him. He'd always had problems with intimacy, and Hannibal knew that.
Hannibal apparently thought that the physical side of their relationship would be easier for him than the emotional. Will begged to differ. He couldn't bring himself to speak about it at the moment, though; he didn't think that he could get a civil word out of his mouth.
He was angry. He didn't want to be.
He wanted to let that anger melt away, to stand up and walk into Hannibal's arms. He wanted to pretend that he had never uttered any angry words, but it wasn't that easy to let go of his indignation. It wasn't easy to admit that maybe, just maybe, he had been wrong.
Did Hannibal understand how difficult this was for him? Or did he think that Will was just being childish to clinging to an anger he really shouldn't feel?
It was getting harder to hold on to that anger. He really shouldn't be doing it; this wasn't going to bring him any closer to what he wanted. And if Hannibal didn't want him, even after that searing kiss, then there was nothing he could do about it.
Abruptly, Will got to his feet, running a hand through his hair and not looking at Hannibal. "This is silly, us sitting here and not talking. I need to go. I'm sorry I came here tonight. We both probably need some distance. Don't worry, I'll stay away."
He headed for the door, head down, just wanting to get the hell out of here.
Will reached for the doorknob, feeling as though his stomach was twisting into knots. He was doing it, then. He was walking out of Hannibal's life with all of his desires unfulfilled, all of his questions still unanswered. It was easy. He just needed to take a few more steps ....
"Will." Hannibal's hand was on his, keeping him from turning the knob. "Wait just a moment. I can't let you leave like this."
And with that, Will found himself swept into Hannibal's arms, those lips coming down on his in an even more intense kiss than the one they had so recently shared. This was more than a kiss; this was a claiming, a branding, a promise.
Hannibal was marking Will as his own.
"Did you mean that?" Will managed to gasp when they finally broke apart. Somehow, his fingers were twined through Hannibal's hair, and the other man's hands were on his hips, pulling him close.
"Of course I did, sweet William." Hannibal's smile was lazy, satisfied; he bent his head to nuzzle his cheek against Will's throat, whispering into his ear. "You are mine, Will. Whether you're ready or not, I have claimed you. There is no turning back now."
The words sent a shiver down Will's spine. They, like that bruising kiss, were a promise for the future -- a future that seemed to be rushing at him headlong.
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