I was watching Fromage and I couldn't stop this little fic from happening. Will and Alana just make me want to cry and hug them all the time and well, if that's not an OTP, I don't know what is.
Hope you like this one! Still new in the Hannibal fandom, so hoping I get these characters right.
Disclaimer: I wish I owned this show. I wish so badly!
Kiss Me Like You Wanna Be Loved
The first time they kiss, it's quiet and intimate. It's just a brush of lips, a sweep of tongue, it's just enough to let her know that it was a bad idea, that she was always going to want more.
She'd been hoping that it'd be terrible, that there'd be no spark so that she could return to her life and stop thinking about what it would be like to be with Will Graham. She wants to get inside his head, wants to know each detail of his empathetic gift, but she also wants to know him. She wants to know his hopes and fears; she wants to be the woman he confides in, that he wants like she wants him.
And instead of deterring her, their first kiss leads to their second and she doesn't regret it as much as she thought she would. Because she needs that last taste. Because this has to be the last taste. If she were her own patient she'd be advising running for the hills. This is a bad idea. But even as she thinks it, his lips touch hers again and there's that tingling spark of a feeling and she almost doesn't let go. Almost.
She lets herself out that night with the intention of just getting in her car and leaving, but she sits outside his house a while longer than necessary and contemplates the idea of going back inside and just not thinking for one night. He watches her from his window, the way she sits in the driver's seat and chews her nails almost beckons him, but he knows it has to be her choice. He knows she has to come to him.
But still, he almost chases after her when the engine starts and her headlights flood his living room. Almost.
The third time they kiss, they both wish things had happened differently that night in his house. They both wish they could have had that short time together. Really together. Because as they stand on opposite sides of the glass cell he is in they realise this is as good as it's going to get for a long time.
And it's really not that good.
She's there to update him on the case, to give him positive things to look forward to. But he can hear the cracks in her words, he can see the way she won't meet his eye when he asks about Hannibal. He knows he sounds crazy, he knows Dr. Lector is a far more believable source than he is, but he also knows that his words hold truth and he just wishes Alana would hear him out at the very least.
It's when the tears come that she finally steps forward and reaches out a hand to touch the cool glass. His eyes meet hers and he sees that she wants to believe him, that she's trying to find a way to understand his theories. As his hand comes up on the other side of the glass, she feels the warmth of him radiating out. This is as close as they can get and it angers her. She wants him to know how she feels, how this is affecting her just as much as it is he.
She raises her other hand to her lips, kissing her own fingertips and pressing them against the glass. His eyes follow her movements, wanting so badly to somehow melt through this barrier and be there with her and when he sees her swallowing back her own tears, something twists in his gut for her. He wants to return the gesture, wants to send an invisible kiss through the glass, but the energy to lift his arm has been sapped out of him. He drops his head against the glass though, letting it fall over her hand and he swears he can feel her touch through it all, he swears he can feel her kiss upon his skin.
The fourth time they kiss is hot and passionate and breathless and desperate. It's just after his hearing, just before they take him away again, before they lock him up and won't let her in again. There's a guard in the van with them, but he turns a blind eye, popping in earphones and playing a quick game of Candy Crush on his phone. It's not ideal by any standards, but it's enough.
No words pass between them as they let their actions speak for them. Her hand snakes around his neck as she leans into him, tilting her head to slide her lips across his from a different angle, wanting so much more and having to settle for a hasty kiss in the back of an inmate transport vehicle. His hands are bound by cuffs and chains restricting his movements, but he still manages to make her skin tingle with the anticipation of more as his fingers graze the inside of her thighs, just beneath the hem of her skirt.
The van jolts as it comes to a stop and they know their time has run out once more. He brushes his lips against hers softly just for a moment more, removing his hands from her skin as the guard turns back around, pulling the little buds from his ears. He solemnly nods at them as he opens the door, wishing he could offer them more than a few stolen moments in the back of a van. Alana whispers a thank you as she climbs out, turning back to look at Will once more, his sad eyes meeting hers and holding on for just a moment before he turns his head down.
The fifth time they kiss is the last time. When they ask him what he'd like for his last meal, he figures they've already judged him for Hannibal's lifestyle and jokingly mutters, "Alana Bloom," so when she shows up with the meal he had eventually ordered he can't help but let a dark chuckle escape him. Neither of them really knows what to say, so much has already been left unsaid between them and so they just remain quiet as he picks at the food in front of him.
He casts a look at her, his eyes noticing the way her hands wriggle in her lap, like she isn't sure what to do with them. She's uncomfortable and scared.
"The team is going to be running tests right down to midnight and I've lodged my final statement saying I don't think this is right. Even if you did do these things, my findings all stand that you couldn't have been in control of your body. If we can just get enough for a stay of-"
"Shh," Will cuts her off, reaching over to hold her hand, "It's done now."
When he looks up he sees the tears in her eyes, the wounded soul of her, "You can't give up. You can't let him win."
He frowns, "I haven't let anything happen."
They stare at each other for a long moment until Alana finally pulls her hand from his, standing up and walking to the other side of his cell, "I'm going to be selfish now because I need you to fight. I need you to have something to fight for." She takes a breath, steadying herself, and looks him straight in the eye, "I love you, Will. And I am terrified of living without you, so please, I need you to not give up, fight until the last second so that I can have you for every one of those seconds. Please."
Sometimes he doesn't know how he got so lucky. To be so messed up and to still have the affections of this woman, "I wish I could be there for you in your life. I wish I had never dragged you into this."
She comes back to sit next him, gently reaching out to cup his cheek, lifting his head to hers, "Be strong for me, Will. Just do that."
He nods and she catches his lips halfway, meeting him and matching him as he leans into her. It's slow and lingering, she feels the hesitation in each movement, like he doesn't want her to have to feel anything in these last moments. He wants her to let him go and walk away and not have her heart broken but at the same time he wants her. He wants every part of her and so he keeps kissing her, keeps touching her, keeps pulling her closer.
Feeling her lungs start to seize is the only thing that has her pull away to draw breath, but in a moment she returns to him, pushing past the hastily cooked prison food to taste him and everything he is to her. It feels right for a moment, her heart beats so fast at how good they are together and the moans that escape her are perfectly timed with his.
He meant it when he'd asked for Alana Bloom to be his final meal, because while food is the furthest thing from his mind right now, he just wants to devour her, to make her his forever.
But all too soon it has to be over and they spring apart as the door opens and Jack Crawford makes his way in with a solemn update that brings them crashing back to reality.
And just like that, Alana is ushered out and asked to be seated in the viewing room with a select few members of the media. She stares ahead, refusing to speak with any press, refusing to acknowledge their presence. They don't know Will and they don't deserve to be here. She thinks of the dogs that she has taken custody of and of how much they miss their owner and wishes suddenly that Winston was here to lay his big head across her lap, or that Buckley was here to nip at her toes and remind her that she wasn't alone.
Because staring at that black curtain behind the cold glass makes her feel very alone.
It's when the whispers start behind her that she begins to take notice of the other people in the room. At first she thinks it's rude that they gossip and talk when a man's life is about to be ended, but then she hears them saying things about the time and being late and she glances at her watch and notices that it's already ten past midnight.
She frowns and goes to stand up when a woman steps into the room instead, "We are sorry for the delay, there has been a complication in the case and a stay of execution has been granted." The media representatives all start yelling at once, questions of unimportance, questions that don't mean a thing. They want details, but she couldn't care less for them. Alana slips out the door and makes her way down the hallway back towards Will's cell. She can see Jack up ahead and almost runs to him to find out what is going on, but she is stopped by the face of someone she hasn't seen in a very long time. A little older and missing an ear, but undeniably Abigail Hobbs.
And it all slips into place with an unbelievably great feeling. She can see it lined up for her now, the long series of events which must occur for Will to be released, but she can see the light out there now, she knows he's going to make it. And so yes, the fifth time they kissed was the last time it was filled with sadness, the last time they had given up, it was the last time they had kissed from opposite sides of the law.
Because as she pushes her way past Jack and Abigail and the huddle of police officers with the detectives and official looking people and opens the door to Will's cell and he greets her with a smile, an honest to God genuine smile, she knows that the sixth time they kiss will be full of hope.