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Title: The Mephisto Waltz
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: PG-13
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, it isn't that hard to learn to dance. In fact, the waltz is quite simple."

Will shook his head, a small smile curving his lips. "Believe me, Hannibal, it is for me. I've always had two left feet. Dancing has never been in my genes."

"Well, I insist that you learn how to dance." Hannibal's tone was quiet, yet firm. "If we are going to make any sort of a public appearance as a couple, you must acquire some polish."

Will grimaced at the prospect, but he didn't back away. He had known that Hannibal wanted him to learn to dance, to acquire a bit of the practiced elegance that the other man possessed. And he supposed that it wasn't entirely a bad thing. After all, dancing was a social grace.

Of course, he'd never had many of those. And Hannibal knew it. He'd told Will that becoming more socially adept would be a part of his therapy, as indeed it seemed to be.

"I'll never be a social butterfly even if I learn how to dance, you know," he told Hannibal as he watched the other man move towards the stereo. "I think you're aiming too high with that."

Hannibal gave him a slight smile, raising his brows a bit in response.

"Will, being a social butterfly is not something that I would ever ask of you," he said solemnly. "You would never be happy in that capacity, and it wouldn't be who you are."

Will was a bit taken aback by those words. He had always thought Hannibal wanted him to become something that he wasn't, that his lover wanted to add more polish to his surface.

What if that wasn't the case? What if Hannibal merely wanted to enhance him, not change him? Personally, that was much more acceptable to him, as he doubted that he could change even if he wanted to. He was too set in his ways, too determined to be the rough diamond that he had always been.

He was willing to try to change some things about himself. But not so much that he became unrecognizable even to himself and the people who knew him.

Like learning to waltz, he told himself with a soft sigh. He'd promised himself that he would do this to make Hannibal happy, even if it was difficult for him to accomplish.

Hannibal selected a disc from his collection and put it into the player.

In a few moments, a rich sound filled the air; the strains of a waltz that Will was actually familiar with. He smiled when he heard the music, relieved to find that he knew it.

"That's The Blue Danube," he told Hannibal, nodding. "I'd know that one anywhere. See, I'm not a complete barbarian. I do know some classical music."

"Very good," Hannibal said, nodding and smiling at him. It's good to know that you have a bit of knowledge of this sort of music, Will. Now all you have to learn is the dance steps, and how to follow along to the music. Believe me, it isn't that hard once you become used to the rhythm."

He moved forward to place one hand on Will's hip, and to take the younger man's hand in the other. "Now place your hand on my shoulder," he directed, his gaze focused on Will.

Will did as he was told, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "Now what do we do?" he asked, feeling a little uneasy. Dancing had never come naturally to him. This wasn't going to be easy.

"Now we move in time to the music," Hannibal instructed him. "No, don't look down at your feet," he cautioned when he saw Will glance towards the floor. "Simply keep the rhythm in your head. It's quite simple, really. One-two-three, one-two-three ...." In a moment, he was gliding, swaying, moving them across the floor.

Will took a deep breath, trying his best to follow in Hannibal's footsteps. One-two-three, one-two-three .... it was a simple rhythm, he realized. Maybe he could follow it.

"You're not doing badly, Will," Hannibal told him after a few minutes had passed and the music on the stereo had faded away. To Will's surprise, it started up again as soon as it had finished.

"It's on repeat," Hannibal said with a smile. "Until you learn the steps."

Will concentrated on the one-two-three rhythm of the waltz, surprised to find that he was getting into it. As the moments went by, it became easier and easier to fall into the dance.

It was a rhythm that was easy to catch on to; within a few more moments, by the third repeat of the waltz, the two of them were whirling around the floor as though they had been born to this.

Even though the music playing was The Blue Danube, Will could help feeling that they were dancing The Mephisto Waltz instead, growing wilder and wilder and whirling around the room with more abandon. He was sure that at any moment, they would waltz right out of the front door.

Would he mind if they did? he asked himself as Hannibal whirled him in a circle again. Would he let this man waltz him away to the edge of oblivion, to the end of time itself?

Yes, came the answer in his mind without him even having to reach for it. He was sure that he would. He would let Hannibal take him anywhere. He would follow this man to the ends of the earth.

To the end of the world, and beyond, Hannibal would mesmerize him.

That was a dangerous way to think, he cautioned himself before letting that thought go swirling away from him on the winds of their movement. He didn't want to countenance it.

He didn't want to think that there was anything beyond these moments, anything more than whirling around this room in Hannibal's arms, in rhythm with the music.

Somehow, he felt primitive, and even a little powerful. He felt that the two of them were invincible, that together, they could achieve anything -- as long as this music kept playing and they continued to whirl around the polished oaken floor with the wind seeming to whistle in his ears.

This was his whole world, at least for the time that they were dancing. There was nothing but the two of them, the music, and the rhythm of the waltz surrounding them.

When Hannibal's steps slowed, Will could feel his heart plummet. He had wanted this to last forever, for the dance to go on for the rest of their lives, into eternity.

Of course, that couldn't happen. But it was still a pleasant fantasy.

Hannibal disengaged himself from Will's arms, walking across the room to stop the music from playing. When he turned back to Will, he was smiling, looking contented.

"You're actually quite a natural at dancing, Will," he commented. "I hadn't thought that you would take to it so well. It's as though you were born to waltz. You've picked it up very quickly."

Will couldn't keep himself from smiling at those words of praise, though he still felt restless and unsettled. After being whirled around the room in Hannibal's embrace, he wanted more of the same. He wanted them to waltz out the door, into the woods, and be lost to polite society forever.

Shaking his head, he banished that thought from his mind. That wasn't why Hannibal was teaching him to dance. He was being polished, made to fit into a mold that people approved of.

Or was he? For the first time in their relationship, he wondered if he was simply being pushed towards something that he had always been meant to be, without him realizing that fact.

Instead, he only said, "It's easier than I thought it would be."

Everything in this relationship had been easier than he'd expected. It had all been so easy -- letting Hannibal become his lover, falling into his arms, now falling in with his future plans.

The rhythm of the waltz still pulled at him. He could still feel it coursing through his body, in his feet, in his heart, in his very soul. He couldn't wait until the next time that he and Hannibal danced together, so he could feel the way again -- wild and free, invincible, ready to take on the world.

Until the next time they waltzed together again, he would try his best to hold on to that feeling, to hold it close to him and not let it go. He wanted to remember just what it was like.

The next time they danced, he could let the waltz carry him away once more.

***