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Will Graham was in a bad mood. Well, when wasn't he in a bad mood?
In his classroom, Will was well known to be grouchy. Rather blunt and short in his responses. Oftentimes he wished he didn't need to talk at all- since to him all of this was rather easy to understand and he could see the other side.
Alas, that was why he was the professor and everyone in his class were his students. He made peace with that ages ago- but it was still annoying nonetheless.
However today- there was something else getting under his skin. And that something was Jack Crawford. Alana had come to warn him- which somehow made it ridiculous.
Was Jack really that much of a hard ass that he needed a warning? That he had to be babied in being prepared for a simple conversation?
Will huffed as he entered the restroom. It had been some time since Jack entered his classroom- practically giving him no other option but to profile for him. Will already heard through the grapevine about Jack Crawford. He was a man who always got what he wanted- whether it is through his rarely used charm or his meticulous planning.
There was already a man in the stall next to him- although Will didn't care too much. He was just there to do his business and pee.
Will locked the door and turned, undoing his belt quickly- a bit jerky with his movement since his bladder suddenly decided to practically scream at him.
He held in a curse as he set down the toilet seat protector, pulling down his jeans and underwear with haste as he began to sit. The moment he sat- there was an audible thud and bounce.
Suddenly the bathroom was a lot more quiet than before, forcing Will to slowly look down.
"Dammit." Will hissed when he realized his packer was what fell out onto the tacky tiled floor.
The man beside his stall seemed shocked as well, but cleared his throat. Will closed his eyes, feeling his body burn hot with embarrassment and horror.
For a moment, Will desperately hoped the bastard wasn't a transphobe. He could only handle so much today.
"I believe you have dropped your special equipment." The man murmured, his voice smooth with a distinct accent.
Will let out a breath- close to a laugh. "I can see that."
Hesitantly, he bent down to reach over to the man's stall. He grasped his packer- the damn packer that took ages for him to find.
It was a good weight and looked rather realistic. That was to help him with his body dysmorphia. But now- it was just Goddamn embarrassing. This man was practically looking at his dick full on!
Will, almost fully humiliated, lifted the packer and pulled it back into his stall. He quickly put it back into his boxers, sending it a glare as if that would fix everything. He'd need to clean it later. It was far too embarrassing to wash his packer within an FBI bathroom. Especially when anyone could enter at any moment.
"Thanks for not freaking out." He blurted, unable to stop himself. "Not everyone is able to handle seeing a random dick fall on the floor by their feet."
Will mentally cringed at himself. Why did he have to make this weirder by continuing to talk to the man?!
He swore he heard the man let out a breathy chuckle, but it was nearly inaudible. "It's within human nature to feel empathy when one becomes embarrassed. I would not dare judge."
Will felt his lips twitch with relief, happy that this isn't so terrible. Well- it was still beyond horrifying. But at least it wasn't the worst thing.
"You've dropped your dick in public too??" Will just had to ask, his voice blunt with a hint of teasing.
The man barely moved at the question- not even showing his discomfort or surprise. It interested Will. The man seemed like nothing spooked him- nothing could make him have a hair out of place. It almost made Will want to try.
Call him ridiculous, but he has been bored lately. And out of all things- this was helping his mood.
"I have not," The man admitted, sounding amused. "But I have dropped a few body parts here and there in my youth."
Will covered a hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh out loud as his shoulders shook. "I don't even want to know what that means."
There was that near inaudible chuckle again.
At that particular moment, Will's bladder sent him another message of pain to release his fluids. "Not to cut our conversation short so soon- but I really have to piss."
"That is what bathrooms are for. Please, continue your bodily functions. I am finished with -mine." The man said easily, standing up and pulling his pants up.
Will did his best to not laugh again. Who talked like that? Even the man's shoes and pants were obviously expensive. Maybe he was a pretentious male who liked to show off whenever he could. At least he wasn't transphobic, Will reasoned.
He began to continue his 'bodily functions' as the man flushed and walked out of the door to wash his hands, taking a few moments to dry his hands after. As Will was finishing up, the man paused by the door to leave.
"It was a good conversation. Have a good afternoon." The man said.
Somehow Will could easily picture him tilting his head to the side, a welcoming twinkle in his eye.
"You too." Will said shortly, flushing as the man walked out of the bathroom. He stood up, pulling his pants up, and re-doing his belt before leaving the stall.
After washing his hands and drying them off, Will heard his watch beep. He had the meeting with Jack- crap.
Walking out of the bathroom and toward Jack's office was enough to make him grumpy again. He really didn't want to be here.
All Will Graham wanted to do was teach at Quantico, live with his dogs in Wolf Trap, and go fishing. But no- no one could leave Will alone to live a semi peaceful life.
Will entered Jack's office, his head down as he sat down. There was another man there- and Will already didn't like him. He stood there like he owned the place.
"Will." Jack greeted. "This is Dr. Hannibal Lecter. Dr. Lecter, this is Will Graham."
Ah, the man was a psychiatrist. Distaste and repulsion settled deep within his chest.
Why was he here? Did Jack want him to be psychoanalyzed? Why did this feel like an intervention for something bigger- and Will didn't like it. He felt trapped- and Will always fought back whenever he was backed into a corner.
No. Will needed to give Jack the benefit of the doubt. After all, Jack Crawford was a professional. He often pushed to get his way- but still. Maybe Will didn’t have to know everything about the other. Maybe he could be wrong.
“Tell me then, how many confessions?” Dr. Lecter asked, slightly bent forward to take in the pictures on Jack’s board.
Will felt his entire body flush with undeniable embarrassment. Oh… he knew this man. He was the man from the bathroom. The one who knew what his dick looked like.
“Twelve dozen, last time I checked.” Jack answered, turning around to walk toward his desk. “None of them had any details, until this morning. Then they all had details.”
Will tried to get his head back into the game. He needed to pay attention- but it was difficult to do that with the underlying panic of being out to someone unintentionally. To someone who he didn’t even know.
No. He just needed to act like he didn’t even know who the man was. Just pretend like that conversation didn’t even happen. Besides- his first impression of the man now seems off. He had an idea on what to think, but still found himself questioning it. Will understood that humans had duality. But for someone to act one way and be the next in such a short amount of time- it was odd.
The man in front of him was stuffy, obviously had loads of money, work oriented, and stuck his nose into people’s business when he shouldn’t.
Will mentally sighed as Jack continued to talk. Today was going to be a long day.
When he heard Jack mention a certain redhead, Will felt his shoulders tense while his head curled down. Almost like he needed to protect his jugular.
“Tasteless.” He murmured with a slight snarl.
“Do you have trouble with taste?” Bathroom man asked- no. Dr. Hannibal Lecter.
Fuck. Now he was being pulled into a conversation with the man. Will found himself taking a deep breath, softly rolling his head to prepare himself for speech.
“My thoughts are often not tasty.” Will practically spat out, hoping that the conversation would be over and done with. He didn’t need anyone poking around inside his head.
“Nor mine.” Dr. Lecter murmured, continuing to bend forward to look at the connections Jack had on his board. “No effective barriers.” He added.
Slight annoyance began to build behind Will’s eyes. “I build forts.” He said airily, quickly taking a sip of his coffee.
Caffeine is said to help with headaches. Hopefully it’ll take away both Jack Crawford and Dr. Lecter in the process.
“Associations come quickly.” Dr. Lecter put in, now walking over to the chair beside him.
Will found himself glaring at Dr. Lecter’s general area, “So do forts.”
Dr. Lecter made himself comfortable in the chair after seating himself. He was about to take a sip of his coffee, making Will believe that the conversation was over. But of course, nothing ever goes well for Will Graham.
Dr. Lecter looked at him, blinking a few times in a sort of realization. “Not fond of eye contact, are you?”
It took practically everything in Will’s body to not throw his head back with a groan. Seriously? What was this? An intervention? Was he Dr. Lecter’s new guinea pig? Also- why wasn’t Jack saying anything about them getting back on the case? This certainly wasn’t about Hannibal finding him attractive or anything.
Fuck it. Might as well get it over with. Will let out a loud sigh, now meeting Dr. Lecter’s eyes for the first time.
“Eyes are distracting. See too much, I see enough, and… it’s hard to focus when you’re thinking… ‘Oh those whites are really white’ or ‘he must have hepatitis’ or ‘was that a burst vein?’.” At this point, Will’s voice was practically dripping with sass and irritation with all of these questions and assumptions. What was even going on right now?
Another thing that was irritating was finding Dr. Lecter rather attractive. Did it really matter? No. No, it didn’t. But it was something he noticed. What was also annoying was how amused Dr. Lecter looked as he listened to Will’s retort. For some reason- Dr. Lecter looked even more intrigued by him than before rather than disgusted.
“So, yeah.” Will continued, “I try to avoid eyes whenever possible.”
Okay. He had reached his limit. Will wanted to focus on the case now. Ignore whatever was going on in Dr. Lecter’s eyes. “Jack.” Will called, desperate for the man to start talking.
“Yes,” Jack answered, walking back toward his desk. When had he moved? Whatever. As long as they got back on the case-
“I imagine what you see and learn such as everything else in your mind.” Dr. Lecter cut in, for some reason not letting the conversation go.
Will was finding it hard to not make direct eye contact with Dr. Lecter again, instead focusing on his coffee in front of him. This was getting ridiculous. First it was his packer hitting the floor. And now it was this.
“Your values and decency oppresses yet shocked at your associations appalls at your dreams.”
Despite trying to keep himself placid and calm, rage began to spread throughout his veins. What was happening here? Will’s face began to become cloudy and sharper- practically giving the man in front of him all of the warning he needed to not continue.
Dr. Lecter pressed on, “No force in the Boeing arena in your skull for the things you love.”
Dr. Lecter already knew one of his weaknesses, and now he seemed keen to look deeper into his mind? No. This was more than enough for one day. What was the actual reason he was here? No. Who was the actual reason he was here for?
Will felt his lips tremble, desperately trying to hold back his raging emotions. “Who’s profile are you working on?”
Once again, Jack was still silent this entire time. Will snapped his head toward Jack’s desk, seeing him there. Just watching all of this unfold like it was his own personal movie.
“Who’s profile is he working on?” Will demanded, his voice clearer than before.
However, it wasn’t Jack who answered him. Oh no, it was Dr. Lecter. Of course it was. Preppy bastard always has to be the one leading the conversation, directing every move so he could corner his opponent.
“I’m sorry, Will. Observing is what we do. I can’t shut mine off anymore than you can shut yours off.”
Now, wasn’t that just utter bullshit.
“Please,” Will began, his voice wavering with emotion. He could only do so much to hold in his temper. “Don’t psychoanalyze me. You won’t like me when I’m psychoanalyzed.”
To anyone else, that was just him drawing a boundary. But for Dr. Lecter, it was a threat. And if the man knew what was good for him, he better listen.
The ease he had felt with him in the bathroom was completely gone. Now all that was left was this rawness inside of him from being open up without his consent. All in front of Jack. It was obviously what the man wanted.
“Will.” Jack scolded, his voice trying to sound soft. It was patronizing.
Will stood up, knowing that if he didn’t leave now… he may say some nasty things to Jack’s nice little psychiatrist.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go give a lecture.” Will paused, turning to look at both of their general direction. “On psychoanalyzing with my special equipment.”
And with that, Will left the office with a bit of a smug smile. Truthfully, it made him feel a bit better to be the one to end the conversation. Those two men tried to corner him, after all. He was not going to back down without a fight. Also, he was sure that Jack was beyond confused about the special equipment comment. Dr. Lecter would get it, though.
After today, Will hoped he never saw Dr. Lecter ever again. He was a pretentious bastard. At least he wasn’t transphobic- but that still didn’t make him someone Will wanted to be around. Whether it was about his gender identity or his mind in general- Will didn’t want anyone poking around.
That was all his business- no one else’s. Will figured he deserved a better coffee than the shitty one Jack had in his office. He decided to go to a coffee stop- maybe he would get himself one of those sandwiches too before going back to his classroom.
Later that day, one thing was for sure- he gave a damn good lecture about psychoanalyzing. Jack would have hated it. Weirdly enough, he could feel that Dr. Lecter would have been filled with mirth.