An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
So, this is a RIDICULOUSLY late birthday prompt from the wonderful @littlethingwithfeathers! I’m so sorry it’s late, but I didn’t forget. I’m just slow. I hope you enjoy what I did with your “dessert” prompt.
Hannibal smiled at the muttered cursing he heard coming from the kitchen. Will had shooed him away, promising to make something delicious for their anniversary. Hannibal had been skeptical but acquiesced after a few kisses and a promise that there would absolutely be no flour on the ceiling like last time.
“Don’t come in h-” Will sighed and slammed something down. Hannibal frowned, thinking of his counters. “Fuck it, come in here.”
“A very tempting offer,” Hannibal mused, winking as Will turned to glower at him. “What seems to be the culinary plight?”
“This.” Will held up a cupcake, smeared with a light orange frosting filled with pock marks and bits of torn cake.
“Oh my.” Hannibal turned to Murphy with a stern look at the hound. “Bad dog! You know better than to steal food. Daddy and I are quite disappointed in you!”
Murphy cocked his head and wagged his tail. Will told him that was the mongrel’s listening expression, but Hannibal had his doubts that the creature could do anything beyond drool excessively.
Will laughed. “That wasn’t Murph, it was me.”
Hannibal squinted. “Oh. Well... it’s lovely, really. I didn’t see it in the proper light.”
Hannibal grabbed Will’s wrist, lofting the cupcake closer the hanging fixture above them.
“Ah yes, I see.” Hannibal nodded, face solemn. “Rustic and beautiful. Thank you, Will.”
“You’re a fucking liar.” Will snatched back his hand. He moved to peck Hannibal on the nose. “But a sweet one. I just wanted to make them pretty and these look like the fucking dog got them.”
“What, uh…what were they meant to be?”
Will rolled his eyes, but smiled. “Allspice cupcakes filled with sanguinaccio and frosted with orange buttercream.”
“Sanguinaccio?” Hannibal smiled, carefully picking up an unfrosted cupcake and tasting the dark chocolate center. Hannibal considered the chocolate and blood rolling over his palate before looking at Will with shining eyes. “Whose blood did you use, Will?”
Will pulled up the sleeve of his Henley, revealing a Band-Aid at the join in his arm.
“Happy anniversary,” he whispered.
“Oh, my love,” Hannibal sat down the cupcake like it was a precious object, taking Will into his arms. “You spoil me.”
“No,” Will craned his neck offering Hannibal an expanse of neck to nibble. “I’ve ruined your treat by fucking up the frosting. It looks awful.”
“I would gladly eat these from the floor.” Hannibal murmured into Will’s skin.
“I know you would,” Will laughed. “Hell, I could probably toss them to Murphy and watch you two fight over them. But the point, you idiot, was to make them beautiful. Make them refined for the eye as well as the palate.”
Hannibal pulled back with a smile. “I could show you how to make the best use of your frosting. A few pastry bags and some practice and they will be as beautiful as your gesture.”
