Hannigram Oneshots

●Accepting (Fluff)●

Will thought he hated Hannibal. From the moment he found out what he was and that he was the reason Abigail was gone, he was angry; or more accurately, infuriated. He acted on impulse on a number of occasions but promised himself he would get his reckoning in a way other than killing him. To get what he wanted, he had to bait him and make him fall. Then Hannibal would be ensnared and he'd be stuck in the same place Will was.

Baiting meant spending time with him and that's exactly what he did. Will cooked with him from time to time, both dining on long pig and talking. Often they'd clean up and move off to engage in another activity. Games of chess. Hannibal drawing and sketching Will. Will discussing his interests in dogs and fishing while Hannibal listened attentively and admiringly. Many times they ended in front of the fire with glasses of wine, either in an amiable silence or engaging in talk of cases, work, mental states, and insinuations to murder and cannibalism.

Oftentimes, Will would stay the night. Simply take up the guest room and enjoy a night's sleep in a bed more comfortable than his at home. At first, Will completely detested the idea of sleeping in a lion's den. After a while, he began to stop watching his wine intake and would be a bit too intoxicated to drive the hours long drive back to his house in Wolf Trap. Hannibal made his offer and Will rather begrudgingly took it. Now it had become a habit and a part of their schedule.

Will and Hannibal were sitting in the parlor, stationed in front of the fireplace. Two chairs, tilted slightly toward each other. A crackling orange and yellow fire within the stone fireplace. Two glasses of brandy, rather than the typical wine, on side tables. The two men sat listening to the fire with books in their hands.

Eyes skimmed pages and glances were thrown. Despite Will's promise to himself, a promise to despise all the time he spent with Hannibal, he found he was enjoying himself. His belly was full with the meal he and Hannibal made together. There was a buzz in his head from the brandy, and the fire kept him warm in the mid fall. Reading in such a peaceful setting despite having the Chesapeake Ripper next to him allowed him to unwind some of the stress of his everyday life.

He found his mind wandering, gaze turning up from the page to Hannibal. The man seemed invested in the words on his pages, a certain ease to his eyes. His sharp features had relaxed as he delved within the poetry. His suit jacket had been laid over the back of his chair, shedding a slight bit of his formality and allowing him to relax just like Will.

Another promise Will had made to himself was broken. In this moment, he caught himself admiring the latter. His face fell in slow realization; he was attracted to Hannibal Lecter. He had thought he was the one building a trap that the other would get caught in. In reality, he was falling and Hannibal had set him in this position.

"Is everything alright, Will?" Hannibal broke the quietude, looking up from his pages.

Will immediately tore his gaze away, pulling a hand from his book to grab his glass. A swift movement and he tossed back a drink of the brandy, the subtly sweet flavor filling his mouth. Hannibal's gaze remained on him expectantly, tilting the book halfway closed.

"Everything's fine." Will muttered back, setting the cup down. A quiet sound of glass against wood followed. He kept his eyes intent on the pages of his book.

"Will you be staying the night again?" Hannibal continued to inquire. There was a slight smile on his face, one that both unnerved Will and made a warmth spread throughout his chest.

"I figured that was part of our routine now, Doctor." Will clicked the book shut and set it down on the side table next to the glass. From the corner of his eye, he watched the other adjust his posture and close his book as well. He seemed content with the answer.