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As Will Graham starts his last lecture for the day, he begins to feel the first aches in his pelvis. Throughout his lecture on psychoanalysis, the cramping gets worse and he knows he’s about to start his period. Worried less about that for once, he’s more worried about cancelling his dinner plans with Hannibal for that evening. His periods have always been particularly painful and heavy—even on testosterone, and he often has to cancel plans when it hits him unannounced.
He’d hoped when starting testosterone so many years ago, this process would have stopped completely, but unfortunately, he still gets a couple periods a year. He’s considered getting a hysterectomy but he’s not sure if stopping his periods is worth going under for a major surgery.
He counts down the minutes for his class to be over so he can go home and curl up with a heating pad, though he’s not looking forward to disappointing Hannibal. The other man knows he’s trans so he has to know this was still a possibility. He wonders what Hannibal’s plan for tonight was and hates that he’s going to miss it.
Leaving Quantico for the day, Beverly stops him in greeting. Always blunt as ever she says, “Are you sick? You look awfully pale.”
“Yeah, I’m not feeling well. I think I may be coming down with something.” He admits.
Most of his coworkers don’t know that he’s trans and he’d like to keep it that way. Being trans is only part of his identity and he doesn’t want it to change the way they see him, though most of them already see him as aloof and antisocial. He doesn’t think Beverly, Price, or even Zeller would view him any differently if they knew, but he still doesn’t want to take the chance, given how his friends in high school treated him when he came out.
He’d told Hannibal about it. Going to school in Louisiana back then, it wasn’t common for people to be open about their gender identity or even their sexuality but there he was a gay, trans man. His friends wouldn’t speak to him and other kids bullied him relentlessly. He still remembers the beatings he got in the locker rooms. Once, a large football player kicked him so hard he cracked a rib. He unconsciously winces at the memory.
By the time he’s in his car, heading home to Wolf Trap, his period is in full swing. The cramping so severe, he feels nauseous. He knows he’s bleeding now and has probably stained his boxers. Before he arrives home, he readies himself to make the call to Hannibal.
“Will?” Hannibal answers.
“Hey, I uh, I’m not going to be able to make it to dinner tonight.” Will says, sheepishly, but not wanting to beat around the bush.
“Are you feeling alright?” Hannibal asks, knowing Will well enough that he wouldn’t just cancel without a good reason.
“No, I am actually feeling under the weather. I’m so sorry I won’t be able to make it, I was looking forward to it all day.” Will laments.
“That’s quite alright, mylimasis. Get well soon.” Hannibal assures him.
Will smiles as he ends the call. He knew Hannibal wouldn’t be upset, but he still blushes whenever Hannibal calls him mylimasis. Once he’d explained what it meant, Will felt his heart warm, thawing the ice that had long since frozen there.
With that out of the way, Will gets home and changes into some comfortable pajamas and digs out his stash of pads, putting one in a fresh pair of briefs. Grabbing his heating pad and plugging it in, he curls up on his bed and tries to read a book. The cramping comes in waves and he curses himself for not stopping at the drug store to stock up on ibuprofen.
One particularly bad wave of cramps causes him to drop his book, sweat gathering at his brow. He is unable to stop himself from audibly groaning in pain, causing Winston to get up from his bed to see what’s going on. Will pats Winston’s head to assure the dog he’s alright.
Will is curled under his blanket, pressing the heating pad into his abdomen, riding out the worst of the cramps when he hears a knock on his door. He wonders who that could be since he’s obviously not expecting any visitors. He begrudgingly gets up, ready to tell whoever it is to go away, but the words get stuck in his throat when he opens the door to see Hannibal standing there.
“May I come in?” Hannibal asks. The man is holding what appears to be a container of soup and a bottle of medication.
“Yeah, I’m not contagious.” Will says, moving aside so Hannibal can walk inside.
Once he’s inside and the door shut, Will goes back to his bed, curling himself in his blanket once again. Another wave of cramping crashes over him, causing him to groan audibly, scrunching his face up in pain. His face immediately reddens when he realizes Hannibal heard it.
“You really don’t look well, Will. Do you need to see a doctor?” Hannibal asks.
“No, no. I’m okay… it’s just my—my period.” Will admits miserably.
Periods have always caused him to feel gender dysphoria and he hates even having to utter the words.
“I thought that might be it, and I know how forgetful you can be so I brought you some pain medication.” Hannibal says, offering the bottle to Will. “I’ll get you some water, too.”
Once Will downs the pills and half the glass of water, he thanks Hannibal. He thinks Hannibal might leave now, since that’s how partners have treated him in the past. He’s never been up for sex while on his period so to them, he guesses it’s not worth being around him. He should know Hannibal is different and he makes no indication that he’s leaving anytime soon.
“Would you like a massage?” Hannibal asks.
“Oh, uh, yeah… I’d love that.” Will says, surprised at the offer.
Hannibal smiles, going to Will’s bathroom and finding the massage oil he left there. He comes back and removes his coat and suit jacket and rolls his sleeves up his arms. Will isn’t thinking about sex right now, but he can’t help but stare at the man’s muscular arms, mouth going dry at the sight.
“Lie on your stomach, please.”
With Will situated, Hannibal puts the oil on his hands, rubbing them together to warm it up before beginning to massage Will. His hands start at Will’s neck, kneading the tense flesh there causing Will to groan, not in pain, but in pleasure. He spends some time on his neck before moving down to his shoulders and upper back, working his thumbs into the muscles in each area. Will’s groans and sighs of pleasure motivate him to continue, even when his hands begin to hurt.
“Can I pull your pants down a little bit?” Hannibal asks.
“What? Why?” Will asks, almost choking on the words.
“To massage you more thoroughly, I promise I have no ulterior motives.” Hannibal explains, hands raised.
Will agrees, reminding himself it’s Hannibal, he’s never been pushy to try and get Will to have sex with him, or to do anything he doesn’t want to do for that matter.
“Oh,” Will sighs out when Hannibal’s hands reach his lower back and continue down to the globes of his ass. His thumbs dig into the flesh there, causing an even more pleasurable sensation than he’s felt anywhere else.
Hannibal continues to massage Will’s ass, making slow circles up to his low back and down again. Will’s cramps have subsided for the time being and he can’t help but believe it’s due to the massage more than the pain medication. The older man’s sure hands, never straying anywhere but where Will has allowed him to go, have unsurprisingly caused Will to become aroused. He can feel wetness between his legs that certainly isn’t blood.
He doesn’t wish to act on the arousal, knowing it would be a messy affair, not to mention he’s not sure Hannibal would even be into that. After a few more minutes of massaging Will’s ass and lower back, Hannibal requests that he turn over to lie on his back. Will does so without hesitation, wondering what Hannibal will do next.
He gets more massage oil and pour it on his hands and warms it, just as he did before. He motions for Will to pull his pajamas down again, this time exposing his lower abdomen and causes some of his pubic hair to poke out beyond the fabric. Hannibal begins to rub his abdomen, down to the pulled down waistband of his pajamas and up to his bellybutton. Will sighs in contentment as Hannibal’s hands work the tense muscles of his abdomen. His hands are so skilled, Will begins to get sleepy. Yawning as Hannibal continues his ministrations, he slows and stops the massage, helping a now drowsy Will pull his pajamas back up over his hips.
“Will you stay?” Will asks sleepily.
“Of course, mylimasis.” Hannibal replies with a smile.
They end up in bed together, Will’s body pressed against Hannibal’s chest, both resting comfortably. Hannibal can’t help but feel this was even more fulfilling than any dinner date could ever be. He loves more than anything to make his boy feel good, however he can.