“Hey, Hannibal, I’m taking Linus for a walk—”
Will stopped abruptly in his tracks, Linus bumbling into the backs of his legs, both of them pausing in the doorway to Hannibal’s study. With stark shock etched on his face, Will stared at Hannibal Lecter, who placidly gazed back at him, a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose.
“Will?” he prodded, his mild tone at odds with the soft smirk on his lips. “Is something wrong?”
“No, just—” Will cocked his head, unable to hide his surprise. “You got glasses.”
“I did,” Hannibal said, touching the wire frames with a gentle finger.
Will shoved his hands into his pockets and moved close enough to get a better look at the glasses in question. The delicate wire frames gleamed against Hannibal’s tanned skin and stray strands of his fine hair, longer now and almost entirely silver. His amber eyes flicked over Will’s face, seeing him clearly, bright and mischievous and wreathed in laugh lines Will loved, having been the cause of so many.
“You’re staring, Will.”
“Sorry,” Will said, huffing a soft laugh, struck by the sight of his husband wearing glasses. “I wasn’t expecting it.”
“Do you recall several nights ago informing me that I needed a pair of readers?”
A small sound escaped Will at the word, one he failed to stifle.
“Am I amusing you, Will?” The temperature dropped significantly with that question.
“No,” Will said, grinning. “That wasn’t a laugh, Hannibal, trust me. Second to never expecting to see you wearing glasses comes you using the word ‘readers’. It’s… cute.”
“Yeah,” Will said, knowing Hannibal couldn’t resist him for long.
“What was decidedly not cute was being told by my drunken, melancholic husband that I’m ‘blind as a bat’ and need to get my ‘prissy ass’ to the optometrist and do something about it before I ruin another meal.”
Will winced, ducking his head but not breaking eye contact. How could he, when Hannibal was so majestically irate? He seemed a scholarly longshoreman, sitting in his comfy chair drenched in sunlight, snuggled in a thick cable knit sweater with his tousled hair falling around his face.
“For some reason you also tried convincing me I’m not god.”
“Did I manage to persuade you?” Will teased, taking the seat opposite him in the warm sunlight.
“I’m not certain why you attempted to,” Hannibal said, laying his book aside to stroke Linus when the portly dog flopped against his bare foot. “And I fail to see why my needing glasses had anything to do with my contested status as a deity.” Continue reading