A birthday fic for my lovely @tcbook, who has been incredibly patient given that this is an entire month late. I hope you enjoy, honey <3
It is one year and two months since the Dragon, the cliff, and blood in the moonlight. Since Will pulled Hannibal into the water and dragged him back out again with the same stubborn determination.
One year and one month since Hannibal awoke to Will's deathless phrase, “Oh thank fuck, took you long enough.”
Five months since they were both healed enough to move to one of Hannibal's overseas safe houses.
Three months since Hannibal first kissed Will, tentatively until Will grabbed the back of his head and turned it filthy and desperate, pausing only to murmur, “Thank fuck, took you long enough.”
Two weeks since making out and mutual masturbation stopped being enough for Will.
And exactly a minute and a half since Will communicated this opinion to Hannibal.
From downstairs in the tastefully (in Hannibal's opinion) over-decorated (in Will's) villa, there is a crash of furniture, followed by a snarl of frustration.
“If I ever find the guy who invented button flies, I'm gonna slit his throat and request clever bastard casserole for dinner.”
This is followed by an indulgent chuckle, and Hannibal's voice, slightly ragged but soothing, saying, “You were the one who suggested adding some more casual items to my wardrobe. However, we can stop while I retrieve some scissors and you may cut me out of them, if you wish.”
There is silence for a moment, and then a slightly thoughtful declaration that, “Ok, that's something we're gonna revisit, but right now just get these off yourself, Doctor Steady Hands, while I rip this stupid shirt off.”