~ CHAPTER III ~

The kiss started out soft, far gentler than Will had imagined it could be. For a moment, he stood frozen, a deer in the headlights, too shocked to move. Then he was kissing back, one hand pressed against the counter for balance. Hannibal's lips were surprisingly soft and full. He cupped Will's face, hand callused but warm, trailing his thumb along Will's cheekbone. The light touch sent shivers down Will's spine.

Hannibal pulled back for just a moment, then leaned in and kissed him again with more force this time, enough that Will reached up and gripped the nape of Hannibal's neck to keep from stumbling backwards. Hannibal leaned into the counter, holding Will's head with both hands, and Will followed. He parted his lips, and Hannibal let out a small sound that went straight to Will's groin.

Hannibal kept one hand in Will's hair, tracing Will's jaw and down his neck with the other. Molten pleasure pooled in Will's stomach. He was sure Hannibal could feel the rapid pulse in his neck, if not hear how loud his heart was beating. Hannibal smelled divine, a lingering cologne with notes of sandalwood and sage (though Will was no expert), and his lips tasted like champagne. Will tugged on his neck to pull him closer. Hannibal followed, pressing a leg between his. Will let out an involuntary groan. Hannibal's fingers slipped down to the top button of Will's shirt, while his other hand tightened in his hair—

"Hannibal? Are you in there?"

Will and Hannibal broke apart as Alana stopped abruptly at the edge of the kitchen. Her mouth fell open, but Hannibal didn't step away, keeping Will trapped against the counter even as he turned to face Alana. Will avoided eye contact with either of them.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Alana said, a flush spreading across her cheeks. "I didn't realize— I was just— you'd disappeared, and I figured you'd be in here. I came to say goodbye." She held up her car keys. "It looks like it's going to continue snowing well into the morning, so I should head home before the roads worsen."

"No apologies necessary. You didn't know," Hannibal said smoothly, as if he hadn't just been caught leaning Will up against his pristine kitchen counter. "It was good to see you, Alana. Thank you for coming. I hope you have a safe trip home."

Will jerked his head in Alana's direction, his hands shoved in his pockets, and muttered, "Safe travels." He was sure his cheeks were as flushed as Alana's, maybe even more so after being caught kissing his unofficial psychiatrist on New Year's Eve like a bad Hallmark movie, except way gayer than anything they'd air on their channel.

Alana nodded, her eyes flitting back and forth between the two men. A faint smile pulled at the edges of her lips as she lifted her car keys in a mock toast.

"Well, uh, have a good night. Happy New Year."

The men echoed her Happy New Year, Will still resolutely avoiding eye contact. Alana's exit was punctuated by the tap tap tap tap of her high heels against the hardwood floor. Somewhere within the house, where the party was still going on, there was a peal of rambunctious laughter.

Will worried his lip between his teeth, glancing at Hannibal, who was still so close that he could feel the body heat radiating off of him. Hannibal seemed content to stay where they were, but now that they were no longer kissing, Will's self-consciousness and anxiety had come back in full force.

"I, uh, should probably get going, too." Will immediately wanted to kick himself, but it was too late to take the words away.

Hannibal tipped his head in the equivalent of a shrug. "There's no need. If you're worried about getting home in this weather, I can prepare a guest room for you."

The thought sent heat straight to Will's groin. He shook his head quickly, as much to dislodge the vivid inappropriate images that had settled there as to turn down the offer.

"No, no, that won't be necessary. I've driven in the snow before."

Hannibal licked his lips, and Will tried not to visibly shiver at the sight. "You live an hour and a half from here, Will. That leaves plenty of time for the roads to worsen." He locked eyes with Will before he could look away. "I would feel safer if you stayed."

"Why didn't you offer that to Alana?"

The corner of Hannibal's mouth twitched. "Alana didn't drink three glasses of champagne on a mostly empty stomach. I don't condone drinking and driving." You're the one I kissed went unspoken. Hannibal stepped neatly away from Will and picked the blanket off the armchair, folding it over his arm like a butler.

"I didn't bring clothes," Will said, still standing where Hannibal had pressed him up against the counter.

"I'm sure I can find something to fit you."

"What about my dogs?"

Hannibal paused. "I can text Alana to ask her to check on them for you."

Will flushed, thinking about what conclusions Alana would likely jump to upon receiving such a text. Somehow it was worse if Hannibal was the one to reach out to her. "Uh, I'll text her about it, I guess."

Hannibal nodded once and then walked out of the kitchen, as if that solved everything. It took Will only a moment to decide to follow him. The only other option he could see was to stand dumbly in the middle of Hannibal's kitchen with an oncoming headache and half a hard-on, and no part of that sounded appealing.

In spite of himself, Will felt his heart rate raise slightly as Hannibal led him upstairs. Determined not to think about Hannibal and bed in the same sentence, Will took in his surroundings, instead. The second floor was just as opulent as the first, with a similar dark-toned aesthetic and classical art and statues everywhere. The sheer wealth was more than a little intimidating when Will thought of his comparatively small house in the middle of nowhere Wolf Trap, Virginia, full of dogs, dog hair, and what could only be described as a homely fisherman aesthetic.

Yet he was the one staying the night, not the sophisticated and more put together Alana, Will reminded himself. He was the one that Hannibal had kissed, although why this was the case was still a mystery to him. Will's stomach clenched. What if Hannibal had only kissed him because there was no one more desirable around and he didn't want to miss out on having a New Year's Eve kiss?

He shoved the thought away as soon as it appeared. As surprising as Hannibal's move had been, Will could rule out something as base and crude as having kissed him only because Hannibal had wanted to fulfill a silly cultural superstition. Hannibal was more purposeful and polite than that.

Will was so busy stewing in his thoughts that he almost bumped into Hannibal when the older man stopped walking. If Hannibal noticed, he didn't comment. Instead, he opened the door to a guest bedroom that looked big enough to be a master bedroom if it had been in a different house, complete with its own bathroom.

"You can stay in here," Hannibal said, ushering him in. "I haven't had a guest in a while, so if it is missing anything, just let me know. There should be toiletries in the bathroom, and I can get you some clothes for the night, as well as the morning, if you need."

"Thank you."

"It's my pleasure."

Will roamed the room, taking everything in. It had a queen-sized bed covered in a huge dark blue duvet, an antique-looking dresser, two bedside tables with a lamp on each, and yet more classical paintings. There were at least two paintings that Will vaguely recognized as being Japanese in origin: one was a crashing wave, and the other was of a crouching tiger. There was also what might've been a Monet, with its signature brush strokes and water lilies under a bridge, and some Baroque paintings.

Hannibal must've caught the way Will lingered on one of them in particular, because he stopped a few feet away from him and said,

"Prometheus Bound, one of Rubens' best works. It depicts the eternal torment of Prometheus from the Greek tragedy of the same name. In it, Prometheus is portrayed as humanity's benefactor, bringing us fire and the civilizing arts, for which he is punished by Zeus."

"Don't you think it's a little...gory, for a guest room?" Will said dryly, eyeing the sharp talon that pierced Prometheus's eye as the eagle feasted on his liver.

"I think it reminds us of our mortality." Hannibal sounded a little amused. Sure enough, when Will glanced at him, the corners of his lips had twitched up into a faint smile. "The level of detail that Rubens paid merely serves to strengthen the reminder of what price is paid for humanity's civilization."

Will huffed but didn't respond.

After a few moments, Hannibal turned away and went to the door. "Wait here. I'll get you some clothes."

Will sat on the edge of the bed to wait. Only then did he remember his dogs. Trying not to flush at the thought of what Alana would think, he took out his phone and sent her a quick text: Hey, Alana, I know it's last minute, but would you be willing to check on my dogs?

He thought about adding more, but no matter how he imagined it, there were too many insinuations attached. In the morning highlighted the fact that he wasn't going to be staying the night at his own house, and the only other place he would be staying at was Hannibal's, the man Alana had just found him kissing passionately. Tonight was too much of burden for her — he didn't want to ask her to drive over an hour in the snow in the dark, which was exactly what he was avoiding doing — and tomorrow once again highlighted his conspicuous absence from his own home. So he left it simple and hoped she wouldn't ask any questions.

Bless Alana, she sent a text back almost immediately: Yes, key under the brick, right? And dw, not texting & driving — got home safely.

Yes, thank you, he typed, and then, after a long awkward deliberation, added, stay safe and sent it before he could overthink it.

Hannibal appeared in the doorway just as Will was setting his phone down to charge on one of the bedside tables, holding a neat stack of clothes that looked suspiciously tall.

"I found a sweater and some night pants for you, and some clothes for tomorrow, as well. Let me know if anything doesn't fit or you need something else."

The situation was so surreal that Will didn't know what to do other than thank him and take the clothes. It was strange how comfortable their interactions still felt, even after making out like teenagers and then acting as if it hadn't happened, and to be staying the night at Hannibal's on top of it — well, that wasn't something Will could've predicted, even in his wildest dreams.

At the thought of dreams, Will felt suddenly uncomfortable. He had discussed his nightmares and hallucinations with Hannibal before, but he'd never fully described what happened when he had terrible dreams. They were almost always accompanied by violent night sweats, the kind that soaked completely through his clothes and sheets and left him shivering in his own nervous sweat. He didn't want to soak Hannibal's clothes or sheets, which were probably more expensive than half his wardrobe put together, but he didn't know how to bring it up.

For better or for worse, Hannibal made the decision for him by moving back to the door and standing there with his hand resting on the frame. "If you need anything, my room is down the hall and to the right. Just knock." A faint smile appeared at the edges of his lips and the corners of his eyes. "Good night, Will."

Will did his best to return the smile, though he was afraid he might have looked more pained than happy or grateful. "Good night, Hannibal."

The door clicked closed, and then Will was alone.