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Will sips his champagne, no longer cringing at the taste like he did after the first bubbly sip. He’d rather have whisky, or beer, or even wine, but he’s never been one to turn his nose up at free alcohol. So he takes another sip, trying to remind himself why he is even here in the first place.
Here, as it happens, is Hannibal Lecter’s home. That in itself is not very surprising - he’s been here many times before. What is surprising is that he is here, in Hannibal’s home, during Hannibal’s elaborate New Year’s Eve party.
He’s not even sure why he agreed to come, he hates stuff like this. In general Will detests most social gatherings, however he has particular ire for New Year's parties. So the earth went around the sun another time - big whoop. Humanity had nothing to do with it, it’s just another day. Just an excuse for people to get drunk and make resolutions they won’t keep. In short, Will feels like it’s just humanity deluding themselves more than usual, creating hope where there really isn't any.
However, in the deep recesses of his mind, part of him knows exactly why he agreed to come tonight. He had fully intended to tell Hannibal no; after all, Will already knew that the invite was coming, having been informed by Jack and Alana. But instead, when Hannibal finally asked him - with his gorgeous face and sexy smile - Will just couldn’t say no. And the kicker was that Hannibal looked so incredibly happy when Will agreed; to be honest Will didn't think his presence could make anyone that happy. Truth be told he’s more used to that reaction from agreeing to stay away from people.
It’s pathetic, Will thinks, how easy it was for Hannibal to change his mind; that all it took was a look from the older man and Will’s decision was instantly overturned. He’s so damn smitten with the man, it’s not even funny. The realization of his feelings for the doctor caught him off guard at first, as Hannibal is far from his usual type. Will usually likes women, pretty women like Alana. And yet Hannibal is far from that, although Will is forced to admit - if only to himself - that he is very pretty, in a masculine way.
But beyond looks, Will has found that he’s just so comfortable around Hannibal. He always feels better after being around the older man, and he absently wonders if it’s a psychiatrist thing - because after all, isn't that the purpose of a psychiatrist? Someone who you feel comfortable around and feel better after talking with them? No wonder Hannibal is such a good psychiatrist, Will thinks. All of a sudden he wonders if all of Hannibal’s patients feel this way which makes him feel a little foolish, like a student who has a crush on their teacher.
He feels even more foolish because of course someone like Hannibal would never be interested in a mess like him. Even if they aren’t explicitly patient and psychiatrist - just having their “conversations” - Will knows they are from different worlds. He has six dogs and about as many mental breakdowns in a given year… And Hannibal...Hannibal has a successful psychiatry practice, a wide array of artistic talents, and fancy fucking parties with goddamn waiters in his home. It’s hard to be more different than that.
He leans against the wall and sips more of the effervescent liquid as he looks around. Some of the people here he is not surprised to see. Alana and Jack, for example, can be seen on the opposite side of the room talking with a group of some of Hannibal’s hoity-toity opera friends.
Much to Will’s surprise Beverly, Jimmy, and Brian are here too. Earlier Beverly tried to get him to hang out with them in the backyard, which Hannibal prepared to be an extension of his party. The yard was decorated simply with strings of lights and the sparkling stars in the sky above. Hannibal had even rented outdoor heaters to keep his guests comfortable in the cold night air.
Will had enjoyed the fresh air for a few minutes. but found his eyes kept desperately searching. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it at first until Beverly asked him what he was looking for. Embarrassed, he had shrugged and said he was just tired and spacing out, but in reality he realized he was looking for Hannibal. He eventually gave in and returned back to the loud cacophony of the dining area, just to continue to catch glimpses of Hannibal from time to time as he flits from group to group like the seasoned dinner party host he is.
In the interim, Will awkwardly bumbles around, making uncomfortable conversation when forced to. He ends up loitering around the food and drinks table, drinking the champagne in an effort to maintain his light buzz. He’s on his third glass and can feel the beginnings of a flush on his cheeks. Surprisingly, he finds that rather than feeling more relaxed like he usually does with alcohol, instead he feels less restrained.
When he’s not interrupted with conversation, Will continues to watch Hannibal from afar, now no longer concerned about hiding it. After the third stranger in a tux tries to make small talk with him Will excuses himself to the restroom, not in the mood to attempt to explain his relationship to Hannibal to a stranger again. More than once he considers going home, but he can't bring himself to leave when Hannibal looks so happy every time their eyes meet from across the room, every time he checks on Will, introduces him to people, stands next to him until he's called away by his hosting duties. That little smile, one he hasn’t seen Hannibal bestow upon anyone one else, restrains him more than a straight jacket would.
And in those little moments Will feels special. When Hannibal sidles up next to him, hand on his shoulder asking how he is, if he needs anything. Or when he smoothly introduces Will to people as his close friend Will’s heart flutters. He could call Will many things - coworker, patient, colleague, friend...but he chose close friend. Will supposes that is what they are, but is honestly surprised that Hannibal identified them as such also. Surely Hannibal has other people he considers close friends? Although at the moment Will can’t recall him ever mentioning any.
And one time, just once, around eleven - an hour away from the new year - when their eyes meet from across the room as Will is drinking his (fourth? fifth) glass of champagne, Hannibal not only smiles at him, but winks at him too!
It takes all of Will’s willpower to not spit out his drink and then even more not to choke on it as he swallows. Did Hannibal really just wink at him?!? Did that really happen? What does that even mean? Will can feel his face flame, the blush warming his skin, making him feel too hot. Instinctively he pulls at his collar as he tries to process it, seeing Hannibal continuing to make his way around, no longer watching him.
Will keeps his eye on the older man as he tries to do what he does best - profiling. And as a result he does something he’s never done before - he tries to get into Hannibal’s mind. As always, he works backwards from the evidence. A wink. He tries to picture himself in Hannibal’s shoes...why would he wink? Well usually when Will winks it’s something playful in nature - like an inside joke...or flirting. Will can’t even fathom that the latter would be the case so he uses Occam’s razor to focus on the former. What inside joke does he have with Hannibal? Surely as a close friend they should have some, but nothing populates in his mind.
Forced to table that theory for the time being having reached a dead end, he is compelled to consider the alternative. Is it possible Hannibal was flirting with him? Will takes another sip of his champagne, not really tasting it as he tries to give the idea serious reflection. He’s having difficulty wrapping his head around the notion, and when he is able to, he’s not totally sure it’s not just wishful thinking. He is biased, that’s for sure. Because oh how he would love that to be the case, to be on the receiving end of Hannibal’s affections.
At that moment a raucous clamor draws him out of his mind. Everyone is rushing around, pouring drinks, chattering urgently. In response Will glances at the clock - oh! It’s 11:59! This is the last minute of the year! As he gets bumped into for the third time, wondering why everyone is bustling around so insistently, he realizes everyone is coupling up. And then it hits him like a ton of bricks - of course, the traditional kiss at midnight.
His gaze instantly darts around the room, realizing with all the commotion that he lost sight of Hannibal. Will hears the overly excited (and likely drunk) group of older women in the corner doing their best to count down the seconds. 28, 27, 26… His head whips around, trying to locate Hannibal, both hoping and not hoping to find him. After all, if Hannibal is going to kiss someone at midnight he really doesn't want to see it. Despite the risk, Will continues frantically looking but the room is so crowded now due to the influx of people from outside making their way in for the final countdown that he can’t find him.
Just as the countdown reaches zero, hearing various calls of “Happy New Year!” Will feels someone grip his arm and pull. He’s irritated, figuring it’s someone else trying to rush past him to find their special someone, but then a second later Hannibal fills his frame of vision, smiling at him with that same conspiratorial smile. Will is frozen in place as he feels the grip on his arm disappear as Hannibal’s arm comes around his waist, holding him close.
Hannibal looks at him for what can’t be more than a millisecond before his amber gaze drops to Will’s lips, and then a moment later Will can’t breathe because Hannibal cups his jaw and kisses him tenderly, reverently. The second their lips meet Will feels like someone stuffed cotton in his ears because the din of cheers and champagne bottles popping is almost entirely drowned out.
Instantly Will melts into the kiss, for once just living in the moment, not thinking beyond the incredible feeling of Hannibal kissing him. He would say it’s his dream come true except that even in his dreams he never realized this was possible. And yet currently the proof it is is holding him tightly and sliding their lips together in a way that causes Will to blush all over.
As it finally sinks in that this is actually happening, Will smiles into the kiss and presses closer, sliding his own lips against the older doctor’s, humming at the pleasant tingle it creates. He lets out a whoosh of breath as Hannibal’s warm tongue licks along his lip, leaving a trail of hot sensation behind. In response Will automatically parts his lips, feeling Hannibal's tongue tentatively brush his own, causing him a shiver to pass through him as gooseflesh breaks out over his arms. It’s too good, he’s never been kissed like this, never felt this way. It’s pure bliss.
Will follows his instinct, meeting Hannibal halfway. He tenderly returns the motion, the pressure, careful as he twines their tongues together, feeling electricity shoot down his spine with every touch. He really wants to throw himself headfirst into the kiss, surrendering to everything Hannibal is willing to give him… but what he wants more is to not fuck this up. Hannibal is classy, and Will knows that he himself often looks like a homeless man, so the last thing he wants to do is be seen as desperate. Even though he is. He really is. He is desperately in love. And now...now he has hope that maybe, just maybe, it’s not as unrequited as he thought. Maybe the situation is not as hopeless as he feared it was...
Their lips continue to move together, heads tilting to accommodate their tongues as the kiss deepens. Will tastes the residual tang of champagne in Hannibal’s mouth as well as traces of the fancy food he had this evening, along with another subtle taste...familiar and yet also new - Hannibal’s own unique taste. Will drinks it all in, basking in this experience in case, god forbid, it’s the only time he gets this privilege. He refuses to let himself think about that right now though - because right now this moment is perfect.
With the hand not holding his champagne flute, Will reaches out, arm slipping under Hannibal’s tuxedo jacket to hold him around his waist. He holds him tightly, fingers splayed against his dress shirt through which he can feel his warm muscled back. Will sighs into the kiss when Hannibal’s hand threads into his curls, the sensation simultaneously comforting and arousing. And incredibly intimate. That’s it, that’s how this kiss feels. Intimate. As if this is the last piece of the puzzle. They already know each other so well, close friends that they are, and now they can have everything. Will feels tears prickle his eyes at the hope that swells in his heart, trying to keep them at bay. This is not helping his cause to not appear desperate but he is unable to fully contain the tidal wave of emotion welling up inside of him, he’s just too damn happy.
At that thought Will opens his damp eyes, curious to see Hannibal - this version of Hannibal that he never knew existed. A Hannibal that apparently wants to kiss him, hold him… For the briefest of moments Will’s overwhelmed mind worries he’ll see Hannibal is plastered drunk, or laughing at him as if it was a dare. But his fears are unfounded as said man opens his warm brown eyes, looking back at him. Their lips part, the kiss broken, but the intimacy remains between them, nearly tangible in the air.
They remain close as they continue to hold one another, and Will can feel Hannibal’s breath ghosting across his lips. Hannibal’s hand slides from his hair back to his cheek, cradling his face tenderly. His amber eyes appear almost golden, sparkling much like the confetti that Will is remotely aware was tossed around them a moment ago. He’s so beautiful, Will thinks. He truly can’t believe this is happening and prays to a god he doesn’t believe in that this isn’t one of his vivid dreams.
“Happy new year Will,” Hannibal says softly, smiling fondly at him.
Will can’t help the small laugh that escapes him, looking down for a moment to collect himself. Hearing Hannibal’s silky voice saying his name somehow makes it real, the final sensory proof that this really is the Hannibal he knows, holding him tightly against all the commotion around them. Right now Will feels like they are in their own little world, like a bomb could go off and he wouldn’t bat an eyelash, too focused on the gorgeous man in front of him, the man he loves.
“Happy new year, Hannibal,” Will says, disbelievingly happy.
Hannibal touches his lip fondly before letting out a breath and smiling, that special smile that Will is now confident is reserved only for him. Will smiles goofily back, realizing that maybe he was wrong, maybe there is hope. Hope that Hannibal is interested in him, mess and all.
A moment later Will’s smiling lips are being kissed again he loses himself to it, seeing some confetti fall out of his hair as they move together before his eyes slip shut in bliss again. Something tells him that maybe this really will be a happy new year for him.