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It was late afternoon when Will came back home from work. The stairs leading to the door before him seemed like the last, hardest part of the great journey. No wonder he sighed heavily with relief once he closed the door behind him.
Will stretched his neck, to right and left, feeling the tension of the day leaving him. But it wasn’t enough yet.
He left his coat in the closet and lead his step to the kitchen, looking for something for his sore eyes. Surprisingly, Will’s husband wasn’t there. That’s seemed strange but not unusual. Hannibal had many hobbies to fill his past time - fitting for someone who’s chores don’t involve mending the (again) broken facilities.
“Hannibal?” Will threw towards the empty house. Nothing. “Huh.”
He went looking for his lost partner, checking the bedroom, study, library and even their big walk-in closet, which, Will wouldn’t be surprised, could be the place of Amelia Earhart’s disappearance.
Only after going back he noticed unusual deformation of the couch in their living room. After double-looking Will confirmed, yes, indeed, it was Hannibal laying on it under the blanket. Still breathing, important to say.
Will walked over carefully, not to wake his husband up. It didn’t happen for him to lay down on his own in the middle of the day, especially on something as penny-ante as a couch. Whatever was the exact reason, it must have made Hannibal’s day exhausting.
The windows were exposed and the warm afternoon light broke in through the glass brightening half of the room. Some of the sunlight hit the delicate strands of dark blond hair on Hannibal’s head. Will touched them gently, smoothing the ones fallen on his forehead back.
Will loved how calm Hannibal’s face looked. There was something different in it. The smile wrinkles smoothed out, the lines of reverie gone. What left was the trust spilling from him, comfort of a peaceful sleep.
Will’s fingers wandered lower, tracing his brow ridge, curving the shape of his cheekbone. His husband was soft and warm to the touch. The proof of his presence, the mark of the core of the life Will seemed to fall into. He cherished it dearly. The man before him was the living essence of Will’s existence.
…and now he was waking up.
“Will?” Hannibal murmured.
“Shh, sorry. Didn’t want to wake you up.” Will kissed his forehead softly “Go back to sleep” he added in low tones.
“Too late now.” He yawned, the way he does it - which means he breathed in deeply. Then he turned fully on his back. “Unless you join me.” Still a bit drowsy, he shifted the blanket to make a room for him. That was one of the offers someone can’t refuse.
Will lied down, gluing himself to his love. Hannibal leaned down a bit and their lips met in a soft kiss. It didn’t take long for Will to drowse off, the warmth surrounding him around, pulling him in.