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English
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Published:
2016-08-22
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741
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1/1
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Wedding Picture

Summary:

Will Reflects on his favorite photo.

Notes:

The fluffiest schmoop I have ever created. This is my first post on Ao3 and the first piece of fiction I've written in a very, very long time. Be gentle with me. Many thanks to my gracious beta, Raye.

Work Text:

Will sat on the veranda, not drinking the whiskey he’d placed on the arm of the bench. His attention was focused on the bright photograph held in his right hand. He and Hannibal, together, in near identical bespoke suits, wedding bands flashing on clasped hands. Behind them, flowers dripped in an elegant arch, framing the moment they had exchanged their vows. Will smiled in remembrance. At the time he had been so swept up in the love and adoration in Hannibal’s eyes that he’d almost missed his own euphoria.

He'd scarce believed a time would come where they could be safe together -- let alone joined -- for all the world to see. But it had. Wounds had mended, time had passed, the world had turned its attention to the next monster of the week. As safety and security became more assured, words had been spoken. Tender things exchanged in breathless whispers, tears flowing freely, cleansing all that lay between them. Bodies, hearts, and minds came together and souls were further twined. It was beautiful.

One day Will had walked Hannibal down the beach behind their villa and gotten down on bended knee. He presented Hannibal with a flawless titanium band, as perfect and unbreakable as their bond. Choking on his response, Hannibal had sunk to his knees and kissed Will breathless. Hours later, as they lay panting in the sand, Hannibal finally murmured yes. When Will had grumbled that Hannibal could have said so before getting sand in every possible crevice of their bodies, Hannibal only scolded him for his lack of foresight for not bringing a blanket. They laughed their way home, where Hannibal nearly shocked Will with how thoroughly he demonstrated how sand could be removed from everywhere.

Only a few weeks later that they had stood in front of the altar, pledging their love for all the world (or at least the inhabitants of their small, non-extradition, island home) to see. Leave it to Hannibal to arrange an exquisite wedding and dinner for 50 in just three weeks. How he managed it all without so much as a hair out of place Will would never know, and was probably happiest not asking about. Will had scarcely noticed the rare flowers, the elegant hor'dourves, or the fine string quartet flown in from Austria that day.

In the end Will had eyes only for Hannibal, who had looked even more handsome than Will had thought possible. Though Will had seen Hannibal in more bespoke tailoring than most people ever saw in their lives, Will had never seen him look so radiant. The elegant lines of this suit made him even more powerful and regal than usual, but it was the light in his eyes that elevated him to godhood. In the last year Will had been graced with so many of Hannibal’s smiles; loving smiles, amused smiles, even laugh-until-you-cry smiles; but never had he seen Hannibal so perfectly content, as if he had been given everything he’s ever wanted and all was right with the world. Never before had joy so potently poured from every fiber of his being, gracing all that it touched with a beauty to make angels weep. It was only now, looking at the photograph that Will realized he had had the same smile on his face.

“What is it that has you so enthralled, my love?” Hannibal startled Will out of his reverie. Lost in memory, Will had failed to hear the creaking of the screen door and Hannibal’s solid footsteps coming to him.

Will ducked his head in embarrassment, “.... just remembering our wedding. Remembering how perfect it was.”

Hannibal slid down next to Will on the bench, looking fondly at the photo. “I have a special wing in my memory palace with a room dedicated to each moment of that day. I cannot remember ever before feeling so content and at peace with the world. Even with that terrible waiter who almost knocked over the cake.”

“I told you no eating the help, Hannibal,” Will scolded.

Hannibal looked innocent and just shrugged his shoulders, “It’s never too late to eat the rude. However, I did promise and have let it go.”

Will shook his head fondly, reaching his free hand to stroke Hannibal’s cheek, “You’re a ridiculous man and I love you for it.”

“And I you, my mongoose.” Hannibal leaned in, resting his forehead against Will’s, gently nuzzling nose against cheek. “I love you.”