The moment Hannibal stepped onto the ice, he looked like he'd been born there.
Elegant and admirably effortless.
Every movement precise and controlled as he glided across the rink with his hands folded neatly behind his back. His brown coat swayed slightly with each turn, and not once did he appear even remotely concerned about slipping or sliding.
Will , on the other hand, stumbled onto the ice like a newborn deer.
His skates slipped in opposite directions as he tried to, and the emphasis is on tried, take a step ahead.
The warning came a second too late as Will slipped forward with a strangled noise, windmilling his arms before grabbing the nearest stable object available.
(Un)fortunately, that object was Hannibal.
A fistful of expensive suit jacket found its way into Will's grip as he clung desperately to Hannibal's arm.
"I see you've adapted a different skating technique, Will. " he said calmly, but Will could clearly hear that tiniest speck of amusement.
Will shot him a glance that should have made Hannibal feel like he was being threatened with his life, but instead it made butterflies flutter in his stomach.
Though his expression remained neutral.
Will attempted a single skate forward.
Immediately his foot slid sideways, with a noise of alarm he grabbed even more of Hannibal, now tightly clutching his shoulder.
Hannibal looked down at the wrinkled fabric of his coat.
"I should like to point out," Hannibal said, "that you are treating me as a piece of safety equipment."
"That's because you are." Will managed between trying to keep himself on his feet.
Another attempt, at least he had to get back off the ice.
But it lead to another near disaster.
This time Will collided directly into Hannibal's chest, both hands gripping the front of his suit to avoid face-planting into the ice.
For one horrifying moment, he realized how close they were.
Close enough to smell Hannibal's cologne beneath the cold air.
Close enough to feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing.
Close enough that Hannibal was definitely aware of the fact Will was practically hanging off him.
Heat immediately rushed into Will's face.
"Oh, for God's sake," he muttered.
Hannibal's mouth curved faintly seeing his husband both flustered and hanging onto him, "Is something wrong?" he inquired, the amusement now evident in his tone as the tiniest of smiles twitched on his lips.
"You appear flushed, dear." Hannibal added.
But Hannibal's expression remained infuriatingly innocent.
Then, without warning, Hannibal gently took one of Will's hands in his own, "Come."
"Hannibal–" Will immediately attempted to protest.
The words should have been absurd coming from Hannibal in this very situation.
Instead, Will let himself be pulled forward.
Slowly, Hannibal guided him across the ice, one hand steady at his waist while the other remained clasped in his own.
Will still stumbled, and nearly fell twice, and held onto Hannibal more than it was strictly necessary.
But by the time they completed a slow lap around the rink, Will found himself laughing despite everything.
And when he glanced up, he caught Hannibal watching him with an expression softer than he had seen in a while.
Will's heart performed a considerably more dangerous slip than his skates had that evening.
(with in a while I mean like the last 20 minutes because Hannibal can't NOT look at Will like that)
a/n: I open Tumblr, first thing I see... THIS AMAZING FANART, I sit down, I lock in, I deliver
the audience cheers and screams, thank you thank you
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