Still of the Night

Part 1

I just want to start out by saying that it has been a hell of a long time since I posted anything and I literally spent a full five days writing this and oh boy can you tell. It's not the best by a landslide, but it's all I've been able to focus on so yeah. sorry in advance for... well everything really. Any and all constructive criticism is welcome and encouraged. 

It was the middle of winter and Yule seemed to be just around the corner. Snow was lightly falling outside. In the still of the night, Hannibal and Will were cuddled up together on the settee in front of the fireplace with Winston, Buster and Max all spread about the carpet. A fuzzy black throw wrapped around them snuggly. One glass of high-priced wine and one cup of cold coffee long forgotten on the side table. They sat in comfortable silence, content to just sit and think while watching the fire crackle.

It was a Friday night and the both of them knew they would be called into a murder scene during the early hours of the morning, but neither of them felt the need to head to bed. Minutes passed without either man noticing, seemingly lost in thought. It wasn't until Will attempted to stifle a yawn that Hannibal was brought back to the moment. As much as he thought Will would argue that he wasn't actually tired and didn't need to go to bed, the older man knew it was only a matter of time before he was lost to sleep.

Not wanting Will to fall asleep on the settee and risk the soreness that undoubtedly would come later, Hannibal ultimately decided that carrying him would be the best course of action. Hannibal worked carefully on getting up without disturbing his lover too much, delicately removing Will's arms from around his waist and slowly twisting to put his own arms underneath Will.

"What're you doing?" Will's voice laced with fatigue as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

Hannibal smiled fondly at the sight as he said, "taking you back to the bedroom to rest properly."

Will mumbled out something Hannibal couldn't quite hear in response, however, he guessed it had to do something with how he wasn't actually tired and was fine to stay up. Hannibal quickly put out the fire before getting back to Will. Hannibal had paid his mumbling no mind as he kneeled down to place an arm around Will's back and underneath his legs.

As soon as Will was tucked safely against Hannibal's chest bridal style, the throw blanket clung loosely to his frame, he gave up all forms of protest and let his husband carry him to their room. Hannibal carefully stepped around the sleeping dogs, making mental note to deal with their drinks in the morning. Besides Hannibal's light footsteps on the hardwood floor, the house was eerily quiet and the hallways frighteningly dark. Hannibal was not afraid, having seen much worse than the dark in his lifetime. It is possible for someone to be hidden away, lurking in the shadows and just waiting for the opportune time to strike, but Hannibal knew the house like the back of Will's hand and it wouldn't be hard to find the anomaly so he didn't worry.

Abigail was still in her room, where he hoped for her to be sleeping, but goodness knows how late teens stay up once they get the chance. If she was indeed still up Hannibal just hoped that them being called to a crime scene in the morning wouldn't wake her. Perhaps he could make some breakfast for her and leave it in the fridge or even the oven for when she wakes up.

Hannibal lightly pushed his way into the bedroom; he used his elbow to turn on the dim overhead lights. As Will's head hit the pillow he was asleep between one breath and the next. Hannibal pulled the sheet up to Will's chest before stripping down to put on his soft silk pajamas. He padded to the ensuite to brush his teeth then took his place on the right side of the bed. Will pulled to his side, subconsciously seeking warmth. Deciding to not read Hannibal snuggled right back up to his husband in turn and headed off to sleep.