Work Text:
Anyone who knows Will Graham knows he notoriously has trouble sleeping. Especially staying asleep. Although it has become less frequent now since recovering from encephalitis, he’s always been a light sleeper. Even when put under anesthesia, a sore discomfort in his torso is all it takes to awaken him. Will hears steady beeping coming from a monitor beside his bed as he regains consciousness and slowly opens his eyes to bright fluorescent lights. For a short while, Will's mind is foggy, not remembering why he was in the hospital in the first place. That is until he looks down to see his upper body covered in bandages underneath his hospital gown. He smiles, moving his hand up to feel the flatness of his chest. He leaves it there for a moment, taking note of the steady beating of his heart.
Moments later, a nurse walks in, a young woman not much older than himself. "Will Graham?" she asks, and the curly-haired man nods his head in confirmation. "I’m glad you’re awake, you have a visitor downstairs," she says. "A man named Hannibal Lecter." Will repositions himself to sit upright in the bed. "You can send him in." He tells the nurse. She leaves the room and shortly returns with the man in question, who is holding a container, presumably with some sort of food he’s prepared inside. Will can’t help feeling a bit self-conscious seeing that Hannibal still made such an effort to dress nicely, while he himself must surely look tired and disheveled. "Make sure your bandages get changed soon; a doctor should be in to check on you in about an hour." The nurse reminds Will before leaving, shutting the door behind her.
Hannibal walks into the room and sits beside Will on the bed. "I’ve made you some food," he says, setting the tupperware on the small bedside table. "Cacio e pepe. Made with bucatini noodles, garlic, and fresh Pecorino cheese. A simple meal, but delicious with the right ingredients." Of course he did, Will thought to himself. He always found an excuse to make food for people somehow, no matter what the occasion. "How are you feeling?" Hannibal asks. "Exhausted," the younger man replies, "and a bit sore. But I’m alright for the most part; the painkillers help. Although I will admit it, it is a nice change of pace to be in a hospital on my own terms for once." Hannibal chuckles softly, his hand now resting atop Will’s.
"What about psychologically?" He asks. Will pauses. Talking so casually about being trans is something he’s not used to. Besides his family, Beverly, and Hannibal, he hadn’t told anyone he was trans. Taking testosterone and wearing a binder has thankfully allowed Will to live stealth for the most part. Meaning that he didn’t really have to come out to people if he didn’t want to. Which he often didn’t. Mostly because he dreaded it would make the conversation too personal or awkward. However, his relationship with Hannibal has grown to be quite close, and Will thought it was necessary to talk about his transition during their therapy sessions. Given that it is such a big part of his life, after all. These talks they had were the only times Will had felt so at ease with being vulnerable. Which is the main reason he felt comfortable enough telling Hannibal about getting top surgery in the first place.
“Well, mentally it's more complicated to describe," Will responds after he’s had a moment to gather his thoughts. "It’s almost like a wave of contentment. I thought it would feel ecstatic, maybe euphoric, but it doesn’t." He admits. "What does it feel like?" Hannibal questions. "I would compare it more to having a burden lifted off my shoulders. Or a debt that’s been paid. Like I've been holding my breath for so long, and now I'm finally allowed to let go." Will looks at Hannibal, gauging his reaction, and is met with a gentle smile. "Have you gotten the chance to see the results yet?" He asks, Will shakes his head. "No. No, I haven't even gotten out of bed yet." Hannibal stands and holds out his arm. "Here, I’ll help you to the bathroom."
Will takes the offered hand to ground himself as he stands up, making sure to move slowly and cautiously as he walks. There are alcohol wipes, healing ointment, a roll of bandages, cotton pads, and a compression binder on the counter above the sink. Will removes his hospital gown, left in only a pair of sweatpants, and stands in front of the mirror. He stares at the gauze on his body and the drains poking out from underneath, while Hannibal stands close behind him. Will goes to remove the garments but winces in pain when he raises his arms too far. "Please, allow me." Hannibal insists, stopping Will from moving any further. "There's no need to risk potential injury after all."
He places a hand on Will’s hip while the other unravels the bandages, carefully peeling them from the other man’s body and revealing the fresh scars underneath. They’re dark red and newly scabbed over, stitches threaded in between them to keep everything in place. Will looks thoroughly at the contours of his body. The lines of definition between his chest and his ribcage, the pectorals that now more clearly showed muscle underneath instead of breast tissue, the way his body looked utterly different to what it had looked like before. He tries to hide the giant grin that starts to spread across his face. "It looks so real." Will says in awe, "Not that I thought it wouldn’t, I knew what to expect. It’s just... it’s astounding that I really look like this. I don’t have to imagine it anymore."
Hannibal's eyes also scan over Will’s body; the hand placed on Will’s hip has now moved to his shoulder. He is sufficiently impressed with how well the surgery went. For a double incision, there was surprisingly less scar tissue than he would have imagined. Not only that, but the happiness it made Will feel was apparent. That, above all else, was most important to him. "The human body is a remarkable thing. There are slight differences in everyone, no two bodies are exactly alike." Hannibal moves to stand facing directly in front of the other man. "But there's a special kind of uniqueness to you, Will. It’s almost as if now you have something that physically shows just how special you are." Will can feel his face start to blush, which he hopes isn’t terribly noticeable. "Now, shall I get to work on this?" He gestures to Will’s body.
"By all means. There's scar cream on the counter. It’s supposed to be applied before the bandages." Hannibal starts preparing and cleaning the skin before reaching for the jar of ointment and applying the contents inside to Will’s chest. His fingers run along the incisions delicately, feeling the raised skin there and admiring how the scars look in stark contrast to the paleness surrounding them. He almost feels ashamed of how much he loves seeing Will's body like this. The key word being almost. He then takes the cotton and bandages, wrapping them around Will’s chest just underneath the crease of his arms. The two of them are standing painfully close together now, their faces only a few inches away from each other. Hannibal finishes applying the bandages, patting them down one last time to make sure the adhesive is well stuck on. They stand there in silence until Hannibal moves a strand of hair from Will’s face, his finger lingering there. Unmoving.
There’s a palpable tension that seems to linger in the air between them. Hannibal’s eyes flick back and forth from Will’s hair to his mouth. He looks as if he’s about to say something, maybe to excuse himself, but before he can, Will closes the gap between them, pressing their mouths tightly together. There is only a brief moment of surprise before Hannibal realizes what is happening and starts kissing back, opening his mouth as Will parts his to allow for their tongues to join together. The atmosphere quickly turns from one of innocence to intensity. Will’s hand cups the side of Hannibal’s face, while his hands move down to rest on the small of Will’s back. There was something about his taste —something sweet and addicting— that Will felt like he needed more of.
A knock at the door interrupts them, bringing Will’s mind back to reality. The reality in which he had just made out with his therapist. Not only that, but a therapist his work legally requires him to see. Will swiftly pulls away from the kiss. He seems unsure of what to do, almost uncomfortable. "You should probably get going." He tells Hannibal. "I can take care of the rest from here." Hannibal nods his head, although somewhat hesitantly. "I suppose I’ve probably overstayed my welcome." He smooths his shirt down and starts to walk out of the bathroom, Will follows a few steps behind him. Hannibal walks across the room and opens the door to the hallway. Before exiting, he turns around to face Will. "I do intend to discuss this with you the next time we see each other. I’m sure we can pick up where we left off, no?"