Chapter Text
Will really should wear suits more often, Hannibal thought as he caught sight of his boyfriend behind him in the mirror. He wore a dark grey suit, a white shirt and a dark purple tie, and his dark curls under control with some hair gel and face clean shaven – making him look altogether ten years younger.
Finishing tying the knot in his tie, Hannibal turned around and said, “thank you for agreeing to accompany me tonight, Will.”
“Well as you sprang the invitation upon me in the middle of sex it was hard to refuse,” Will grumbled, not meet Hannibal’s eyes.
“It’s just a dinner party,” Hannibal reassured him, crossing their large bedroom and placing his hands on Will’s shoulders, “good food, nice wine – maybe even a little dance afterwards.”
“But we have excellent food and wine here,” Will began to complain.
Hannibal stopped him by pressing a kiss to his lips, “thank you for compliment about my cooking, but it isn’t going to get you out of tonight.”
Will sighed and pulled out of Hannibal’s grip and sat on their bed. He bit his bottom lip and Hannibal knew instantly he wasn’t telling him the truth.
“Why don’t you want to go tonight, Will, really?”
“It’s nothing,” Will said hastily, “you wouldn’t understand.”
Hannibal’s eyebrows rose, it was often Will said that to him, he was the only person in the whole world who understood Will really.
“Tell me,” he half demanded half asked, moving to sit beside his boyfriend and he laid a hand on his thigh. Hannibal could feel the heat of the other’s skin through the thin material of the suit trousers.
“I...” Will began uneasily, “I’m worried about Churchill.”
Hannibal had to restrain himself from sighing loudly and getting to his feet.
“I don’t want to leave him alone for the evening, what if he needs me, what if he becomes scared of the dark or hears something that frightens him,” Will’s voice was anxious and eyes bright with bottled panic.
Hannibal lifted his hand from Will’s thigh and ran his fingers through Will’s hair – not liking how the gel had made his soft curls stiff.
“He is a duck, Will, not a child. He will be just fine, besides he sleeps through most evenings anyways, he won’t even realise we are gone.”
“But –“ Will tried to continue and yet against Hannibal stopped him.
“- Churchill isn’t our child, Will.”
They sat in silence for a minute, Hannibal lifting his hand to the nape of Will’s neck possessively and Will worrying his lip between his teeth.
“Hannibal,” Will murmured, “have you ever thought of us – you know – having kids?”
Hannibal froze and gapped at Will, “are you being serious?”
“Yeah...” Will said carefully, “we could look into adopting or something.”
Hannibal removed his hand from Will’s neck and slowly rose to his feet.
“Will, I don’t think...” he began warily but then he saw the glint in his boyfriend’s eyes and he trailed off, “You’re joking, aren’t you?”
Will burst out laughing and stood up too, reaching to thread his fingers through Hannibal’s, “yes, sorry, was it not obvious.”
Feeling embarrassed and frustrated, Hannibal dropped Will’s hand and turned on his heel.
“Get your shoes on, we leave in five minutes,” he growled, before storming from the room. Will watched him go, still chuckling to himself.
Will still had a smirk on his face when he descended the stairs a couple of minute’s later, Hannibal saw to his irritated. He stood by the front door, pulling on his long coat over the top of his suit jacket and picking up his expensive Egyptian cotton red scarf – it had begun to snow outside.
“I’m just going to check Churchill is asleep,” Will told Hannibal as he went into the kitchen where the duckling was kept in his box on the worktop – much to Hannibal’s annoyance, he was so close to his oven it was ironically painful.
Hannibal tucked the ends of his scarf into his coat and waited for Will to reappear. He could hear him speaking softly to his dogs and as he listened a strange paternal warmth inched its way into his heart. What would it be like if they did adopt a child? Was it coming they both should consider seriously now the ice had been broken on the subject? But Hannibal wasn’t able to dwell upon such thoughts very long before Will reappeared.
“He’s fast asleep,” he informed Hannibal with relief.
“I told you so,” Hannibal said, handing Will his coat, “can we please leave now?”
“Yes, alright,” Will said, zipping up his coat and smiling at Hannibal, “are you going to be in a grump with me the whole evening?”
Hannibal paused, his hand on the doorknob and his back to Will.
“That depends,” he spoke slowly, turning back around, “how are you going to convince me otherwise?”
Stepping forwards, Will pressed his body flush against Hannibal’s so he was pinning the taller man to the front door – a position that was normally the reverse. He slid his hands down Hannibal’s side to grip his hips and he leaned upwards so their noses were touching.
“I can think of a few ways,” he whispered, his breath hot and smelling of toothpaste against Hannibal’s lips.
Hannibal had to stop himself from moaning softly – he wasn’t that easy. He slipped his arms around Will’s waist and held him tightly against his body and angled his head to one side so he could fit his lips perfectly against Will’s own. They kissed hungrily, sharing one another’s heated breath and tasting the want with their tongues. “You sure we have to go out?” Will gasped against Hannibal’s lips.
Hannibal nipped Will’s bottom lip slightly harder than was necessary before answered, “I think molesting you on the dance floor in front of everyone is a far more appealing notion then spending the evening on the sofa sharing you with your dogs.”
Will groaned at the erotic image of Hannibal’s hands on his arse and his mouth on his neck whilst they swayed to music on the dance floor. “You’re the devil,” he hissed, eyes hooded with desire.
Hannibal smirked and purposely pushed Will off him as he sneered, “You have no idea.”
Hannibal once again found the door handle and had just turned it when suddenly from the kitchen there came crying. Will’s expression and body language changed instantly at the sound of little Churchill’s cries. His head snapped around in the direction and Hannibal sighed. Will looked back pleadingly at Hannibal but he didn’t need to convince him – Hannibal had already closed the door and was removing his coat.
“Go and see to your duck.”
Will beamed at Hannibal and darted forwards to give him a quick loving kiss before hurrying to the kitchen, calling out as he went, “It’s OK baby Churchill, daddy is coming.”
Hannibal went back upstairs to take off his suit and laid it on the mattress as he went into the walk-in wardrobe to fetch the coat-hanger. When he returned, Will was laying on the bed and Churchill was wandering over the plush duvet beside him.
“Can Churchill sleep with us tonight?” Will asked so innocently that it was impossible for Hannibal to say no. Or so he thought.
It seemed to happen in slow-motion. The duckling waddled over towards Hannibal’s suit on the end of the bed and before either of them could stop him, Churchill had squatted down upon it and urinated.
That was the fourth time little duckling Churchill was almost turning into dinner by Hannibal Lecter.