Archive of Our Own

It's 9:30 pm when Will finds himself standing at Hannibal's door. The freezing December wind is as mind numbing as it is physically. making it harder for Will to form a coherent thought. 

He thinks of turning back. This is stupid. He is showing up uninvited to his psychiatrist's door after rudely ignoring all his calls and missing his appointment.

He thinks of returning again, thinks of the 2 hours drive back to Wolf trap and cuddling with his dogs and restoring the warmth back in his bones.

But the dogs are taken care of and it's warmer at Hannibal's. He tried not to let his feverish brain contemplate the truth.

(Even with 7 dogs, He is lonely.)

Hannibal would let him in. He wouldn't turn him away for showing up unannounced after ignoring him all day. He is far too polite for that. 

It's 9:45 pm when he finds himself still at Hannibal's unnecessarily well lit and far too expensive porch.

His staring contest with the door comes to an end with a violent sneeze. The sheer force of it forces Will back in his body and makes him aware of the chill under his skin and the itchiness of his worn down jacket. Each breath sends pin pricks of  cold air inside and freezes his throat and ears. It reminds him of the churning in his stomach.

He had forgotten to eat again.

Before he could try to form another thought his heart jumps out of his throat as the doorknob twists and reveals Hannibal's face. The heat from inside hits Will and he instantly wants to melt in a puddle.

“Will,” Hannibal smiles, "what a pleasant surprise” His eyes study his face, numb from the cold, and down from his only good jacket to his rain boots; and back up again. “My, how long have you been standing there? Come in.” Hannibal steps aside with his usual flourish.

Will wants to slap himself.

“sorry about earlier” his voice croaks “I lost track of time.” his shoe gets stuck on his way in but he catches himself before he can fall.

“Not at all, although I had gotten worried and considered driving to yours. I contacted the office and they informed me you weren’t feeling well and had left early.” Hannibal takes his jacket. Will lets him. “I did not wish to bother you.” He fixes Will with a concerned look.

His jacket looks out of place where he puts it up. Will tries to come up with more excuses.

His silence apparently goes on for too long and Hannibal speaks again. “Are you feeling okay, Will?” Hannibal is now guiding him inside. 

There are two chairs with comforters on them. The fireplace is ablaze.

Will gets a strange feeling he was being expected .

“Yeah, I'm fine, I just,” Will realizes he left Hannibal hanging again. “I wasn't feeling very well so I went back home and fell asleep.” He settles. He didn't get a blink of sleep.

Hannibal surveys his face. Will feels scrutinized. God is merciful, he doesn't mention it if he sees through Will's lies and wraps the blanket around him like he's trying to swaddle a baby.

“You are perfectly on time, I was just starting on dinner” He flashes a smile and leaves Will back in his misery. Only waiting long enough for Will to politely refuse. They both know he wouldn't.   

Will sighs and his bones creak along with the chair, heavy and aching. Although the shivering has died down to occasional tremors. Will pulls the blanket tighter and watches the fire crackle. Warmth blooms inside him as he finally feels relaxed for the first time in weeks.

_____________________

It's 10:30 when Will finishes dinner at his psychiatrist's. Hannibal offers him a drink and settles on the opposite chair  before the fireplace. 

“I have to say I did not expect to hear from you today, Will. I'm glad you came by.” Hannibal sips on his wine and looks intently at him.

Will opens his mouth too quickly. “Neither did I, doctor. But I suppose you were just fated to see my charming face today.”

What. Will  internally cringes and tells himself it was intentional. A bait for Hannibal to bite so he would start speaking riddles about fate and not about the current state of Will's mind or body.

Hannibal doesn't laugh nor frown at Will's terrible attempt at humor. The raised eyebrows for  mere seconds being the only sign of surprise. He recovers just as quick.

“Well, I should consider myself lucky then. You do have a lovely face.” 

WHAT?

His confusion quickly turns into a nervous laugh and the nervous laugh turns into a coughing fit. Each cough leaves him heaving and he feels like his lungs suddenly aren't big enough to hold the oxygen needed to stay alive anymore. 

Hannibal waits patiently for Will to stop coughing. Almost unblinking. It's slightly unnerving. 

“You have caught a cold. How long have you been standing outside?”

“How did you know I was standing outside?” Will shoots back.

“I wish I could say It's my special ability but it is unfortunately that monstrosity you call aftershave.”

“You smelt m” ,another coughing fit, “You could smell me from inside the house?” Will is sure that would qualify as some sort of superpower.

“I have a heightened sense of smell. And It was only when I was walking by.” Hannibal keeps looking at him with those blank eyes and Will does not know if that's what's causing the tingling feeling in his spine.

Will opens his mouth but whatever snarky remark he could think of dies in his tongue as another fit of cough punctures itself out of him.

After what feels like several hours he sinks back in the chair like a deflated balloon.

He doesn't realize it when Hannibal walks over and jumps when he puts his cold hand on his  forehead. He opens his eyes to Hannibal's concerned face lit up in dancing orange hues. He thinks his head is spinning.

“I apologize for startling you but you’ve been shaking and looking feverish all night and I couldn't avoid it any longer. You must take better care of yourself, Will.” 

Will just blinks at him. His brain has been sluggish all day and Hannibal's hand feels good against his skin.

“Please sit, I will prepare you some tea.” Hannibal plucks the half empty glass from his hands and his clipped nails drag along Will's fingers.

Will mourns the loss of cool skin when Lecter leaves him again. He shivers and shuffles his chair closer to the heat. Tucks his feet beneath him under the blanket. The blanket is green and soft and smells like Hannibal's cologne.

He closes his eyes, focuses on the clutter of plates from the kitchen and attempts to not think of his nightmares again.

Something cool touches Will. He leans closer to the coolness cradling his face and sighs. There's something breathing hot air on top of his head.

He squeezes his eyes in a desperate attempt to hold on to the last threads of his dreams but has to reluctantly open them when they finally leave him.

It's Hannibal. He is holding a steaming cup with one hand. The other is now on Will's cheek. .

They make eye contact and for the first time Will is too tired to try and decipher their language. He wonders if these are the eyes that have been haunting his fever dreams and nightmares. He wonders if this is a fever dream. 

He blinks and the moment is gone. Hannibal looks away and Will stares at his covered feet and puts them back on the carpeted floor.

It's warmer and he wonders if Hannibal turned the heating up or if it ' s his fever.

“I did not intend to wake you up , I apologize” Hannibal is still standing beside him.

“No, I didn't realize I dozed off.” Will mutters. The pain he had been ignoring all evening is starting to become harder to ignore. The nap has definitely made it worse.

He takes the cup from Hannibal and blows on it. Hannibal is sitting in front of him again.

“Smells good.” Will says, the steam from the cup hits his face when he blows. It Feels good too.

“Thank you. Good to know your congestion isn’t too severe, yet at least, I added some dried lavender, ginger and honey as a sweetener.” Hannibal says shifting his chair closer to the fireplace. Will feels like he's slightly closer now. 

Will takes a sip. The liquid feels silky on his tongue and the ginger slightly burns his throat and soothes his sore throat when he swallows it. He thinks he tastes apples too.

“I do not have a congestion” Will argues, realizes too late that he does, in fact, have congestion and had probably been sniffing this whole time and opts to stare at Hannibal’s hands instead of gracing him with an apology. He has them clasped on his knees and he's leaning towards him. Will has the sudden urge to look away.

“Yes, you do. I can hear you.” Will rolls his eyes. Hannibal ignores him. “Which is why I chose Chamomile. Herbal tea made from flower heads. The added ginger will help with sore throat and the steam will help you breathe better, I hope. It is also used as a pain reliever and Its antioxidants induce sleep. In a few cases it is even referred to as a mild tranquilizer.” Hannibal stops and eyes Will.

Ah . Hannibal wouldn't let Will get away with lying. Though he knows his eye bags were enough of a giveaway.

“I have a two hour drive back home, doctor. Are you trying to kill me?” Will tries to avert the conversation. If the potential car crash does not, his growing headache will. He stifles another cough and sips on his tea in an attempt to swallow it down.

“I was not intending to have you drive at this state”

“I'm not going to ask you to give me a ride at 12 am.”

“I would certainly prefer not to, not tonight.”

“Right. So should I call Winston and ask him to give me a piggyback?”

Hannibal stares at Will.

“Winston is my dog.

“I am aware, Will.”

Oh.

“Stay the night.”

Oh.

“Well, in case you forgot, I have 7 dogs and love for the limited amount of possessions that I own.”

“Yes, I would have almost forgotten if a lint roller was among the objects of your affections and concerns.”

Will blinks and makes a face to look unimpressed. There’s a slight smile in Hannibal’s lips. Will feels a weird bubble of feelings arise. He smothers that along with the urge to pat his clothes.

“You could call Alana.” Hannibal says, motioning Will to keep drinking.

Will pointedly refrains from taking a sip. He has barely drunk any and the migraine has started to creep its way to his sinuses. The left side of his skull has gone from pulsating to throbbing now.

 “I didn't bring my phone.” He did not want to get any calls from Jack. He doesn't want to think about that decision right now. Will doesn't bother lying that he forgot. He knows Hannibal won't judge.

“I will call her, then.” Hannibal looks at Will waiting for him to argue and gives him a pleased smile when he does not. “Right then, I hope if you are feeling better you wouldn't mind letting me check your fever. Finish your tea, Will.” 

Will tilts the cup to his lips. Because he wanted to and not because Hannibal told him to.

And Will stays because he'd been planning on it anyways. He knew Hannibal wouldn't ask him to leave.

---------

Will steps out of the shower feeling calmer. The steam had made his nose less stuffy. He still feels woozy though. The hot water has relaxed his muscles but that has also made the ache to seep through the cracks of his muscles deep in his bones. His joints are aching and he can swear he hears them creak every time he moves. The ache in his back and hips are now a dull afterthought.

Will yawns and walks over to the mirror. He is wearing Hannibal's clothes. The clothes are slightly oversized on him and they remind him of the blanket. Soft , worn and smelling of Hannibal. The seams of the clothes are soft to the skin unlike his own and the tags had been carefully cut off so they don't touch his skin weirdly. The softness of them make Will realize even the simple shirt from Hannibal is likely to be from name brands

Will looks at the cashmere or something sweater in his hands and feels the urge to rub the fabric on his face. No one is around to look so he does. The fabric itself is far from scratchy and feels warm. Will breathes in the faint cologne and detergent and sighs. The carpet is plush under his feet.

Will yawns again and sinks to the carpet still holding the sweater to his face and rests his head on the bed. The scent and feel of it lulls him to some state of relaxation

Hannibal startles him for the 3rd time with a knock on the door. Will springs to his feet and clears his throat and stops the resulting cough from escaping.

He had told Will he would be downstairs finishing his article. Will tried and failed to feel guilty for changing whatever plans he might have had for the night.

“Will, are you done?” Hannibal's voice comes from the other side of the unlatched door. It reminds him of the tea.

“Yeah. Yeah come in.” Will all but croaks out, throwing the sweater on the bed like he'd been caught in an act of crime.

Hannibal opens the door and smiles. It reminds him of the cat he'd seen around the bureau alley.

“I do hope you are feeling better enough to let me examine you.”

----------

It’s around 1 am when Will finds himself in Hannibal’s guest bedroom with Hannibal listening to Will's breathing through his stethoscope.

Hannibal has brought out his ‘doctor case’ that he had only ever seen in movies and an array of pills. Despite Will’s reassurance that an aspirin would suffice.

“If you would please sit down, I would like to check your temperature and your throat.” Hannibal says, putting the stethoscope down. He assures Will his breathing seems fine. Will wasn't too worried in the first place.

“You’re no fun doctor, I was hoping we would watch a movie and paint our nails.” Will attempts to lift his awkwardness.

“Perhaps, I will indulge you once you're feeling better. For now we can play doctor. Hannibal makes a point to cough and play professional. “I would have to advise you to rest  so that your headache won't get worse. They thrive on the lack of sleep.” It does not make a difference. Will rolls his eyes.

Hannibal fishes  2 thermometers out of the bag. “I am afraid I only have an axillary or oral at home. Which would you prefer?”

Will chooses the least uncomfortable one and stares at his feet and fidgets with the silk blankets of the bed. Of Course Hannibal would have silk sheets even in his guest rooms.

Hannibal leans to take the thermometer from his mouth and frowns at it.

“Am I dying, doctor?” Will asks. His temperature can be no more than 100. He feels fine. And sleepy.

“A 101.4. You will live. Though I would assume it may get worse at night. I would need to check your throat now.” Hannibal flashes a tiny light to Will's mouth and he opens it. Somehow feeling more uncomfortable. 

Hannibal steps closer and puts his left hand on top of Will's head to get a better angle. Will pretends that does not make him sigh and close his eyes.

“There's slight redness and inflammation. You haven't been coughing, I suppose the tea helped?”

A sudden sneeze forces itself out of Will almost as if on cue and he hides his smile from the look on Hannibal’s face behind a cough and a polite hand.

“Right. Bless you.” Hannibal offers Will a tissue.

“Now, it seems to be only the cold and fatigue. You would simply need to sleep it off. Would you like to take pills or syrup?” 

“Just give me an aspirin.” Will insists again because defying Hannibal has come to be second to his nature.

“Very well.” Hannibal does not insist any further and hands him a very familiar bottle and some water. “Though I would assume you’ve already had a few.”

“Who are you and what have you done to my friend?” Will lets out moments after swallowing the pill dry. 

Hannibal's expression shifts from what in his face would be something akin to muted horror at Will’s antics and to something more unreadable at the title.

“I ate him.” Hannibal says now turned opposite so Will can not see his face. “And if you continue to not let yourself rest, Will, I might just have to eat you too.” 

“Don't threaten me with a good time Dr. Lecter.” 

Hannibal somehow stands straighter and turns around, “You must know by now that I do not make a habit of delivering idle threats. And as this night has already proven,” Hannibal is now facing Will and alarmingly close . Will sighs in a feeble attempt to mask his sudden panic. Somehow it only pushes him closer. 

“It's nice to have a friend for dinner.” 

He can place the mint and wine in his breath. 

Will inhales and it reaches inside and claws the air out of his lungs. He can hear his heartbeat drumming in his ears. He swallows around cottonmouth and averts his eyes.

Will blames the warmth of his face on his fever.

“How is your physical state?” Suddenly Hannibal is not standing in front of him anymore. The obvious shift in the air makes Will gulp and fidget with the crumpled tissue in his hands.

“Not-” Will is glad he can also blame the voice crack on his constant coughing. “Not great.”

“Can you explain it to me?” Hannibal asks. Will does not want to focus on that right now.

“Well, I'm feeling better than I was in the afternoon.” Will has to momentarily close his eyes at the memory. His dogs had kept him warm. Sickness had always made Will clingy. 

“That is certainly good news. All Though, sore muscles may be a sign of the flu.”

“Or that I have been sleeping on the floor too much.” 

“While sleeping on the floor might prove to be therapeutic, it can very soon become the reason for a visit to the emergency room. Is that all the reason for your condition?” Hannibal prods. 

“What do you mean?” Will knows exactly what he means.

“Have you been taking proper care of yourself Will?”

Will tries to think of ways to steer the conversation away again. “What makes you ask me that?”

Hannibal gives him a look. He knows of course but answers him anyway. “You have a habit of ignoring your needs; building forts and making yourself prisoner. More so to prevent yourself from escaping than to ward off the pillagers .Tell me,Will, How long have you been contemplating visiting me?”

shit.

“A long time.” The guilt is starting to seep into his mind from Hannibal’s words “Sorry, It’s so late” WIll ignores that too. It is what he does best.

“Never apologize for coming to me.” Hannibal's voice is soft and warm; it reminds him of the sweater. The words make Will’s throat burn.

Will doesn't know how to answer that. So he doesn't.

Hannibal takes pity again and decides to prod elsewhere. He is being far too considerate. Will decides he finds that unsettling. “Why were you sleeping on the floor?”

“I uh” Will decides to leave out the part of the stiff bed and the broken heater. “couldn't sleep. Thought sleeping on the floor would help.”

“Have you been having nightmares again?” Hannibal’s voice is professional as always. Will can’t escape the questions. Hannibal seems to have him in a fork.

“They never really stopped.”

“What have you been dreaming about?”

“I can't remember mostly.” he would toss and turn but by the time he’d wake up, the details had finally left him but “They always include some variations of my sins catching up to me.” 

“Your ‘sins’ are they truly yours or the murderers?” Will looks up from the invisible patterns on the carpet. Hannibal is still standing. 

He did not want to talk about the murders tonight. “I don't know, sometimes I killed them, sometimes it was my fault I couldn't save them.”

“You say that with such a penitent face. Do you believe you must repent to find catharsis?”

“Do you?”

“I do not believe my actions need repenting and I do not believe you do either. No one but to yourself, of course. ”

Will does not reply and instead raises his brow at Hannibal.

“Your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing.” 

Will scoffs at the reference. He remembers the words all too well.

( “and your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing. Isn't that fearful? Isn't it fearful that you are living in this filth which you loathe so, and at the same time you know yourself (you've only to open your eyes) that you are not helping anyone by it, not saving anyone from anything?”)

"And what is yours, doctor?" 

"Only sins of omission. And as you know I do indulge in a few modest eccentricities ” he lets his voice drop at the end and smiles to himself. 

Will feels the urge to scream. He walks to the end of the room to look out the window instead. “One could argue, I am eccentric”

“Esoteric is the word I would choose.” Hannibal’s voice is unwavering from behind.

“Do you find me esoteric, Doctor?”

“I find you intriguing”

Will has to take a sharp breath. He continues to look out but can not pay attention to what’s outside. All his senses directed to the man behind him. He coughs and clears his throat. “Is it me that you find intriguing? Or my mind?”

“Our actions and decisions make us who we are. And our minds control our thoughts and actions. Or, if you're poetic, our hearts.” He can feel Hannibal's gaze burn holes in his back. The heat of it rises up and up to the nape of his neck to the tips of his ears.

Will turns around. He can feel the intimacy of the action knock around in some corner of his mind. Of baring his heart to the man with the unwavering eyes. They flicker up to his. Will wants to run again. Will wants to stay.

“You find me intriguing for my heart?” 

Hannibal is silent while he searches Will's face. Will fidgets with the window seal. The cool metal gets heated up quickly under his shaky fingers. 

“I find you intriguing for you, Will. Your intelligence and your deep heart are part of that.”

“Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart . ” Will snickers. The joke is on him.

“I am glad you at least do not consider yourself a fool.” The air feels heavy and static.   Allusions hang within the innuendos. Hannibal's eyes flicker lower with the slight quirk of his lips and then back to his eyes. They pin him with a look that may seem analyzing but to Will they are tender. Curious soft burning and-

Something in Will realizes something. And the realization does not feel like the stab he feared it would. It does not wrench his gut like a hot hateful spear as it should have. Instead, It drowns him. In soft waves it engulfs him whole. He does not feel the need to think of it further. Does not feel the need to do anything about what he now knows of himself. (what he had known for a long time)

 “Oh no. I have been a fool. But only to myself Of Course .” Will sighs. He will learn his lesson again and again. And he will be happily stuck in the hamster wheel created by his own whims. For now he feels content letting himself sink in the depths that he knows one day would be his death.

“And is that your crime?”

Will sighs and leans back where he is standing.

“It is my punishment.” 

---------------------

There is the sound of running water. Rippling constantly. It sounds like it's raining. Will is in the river. The water is higher today for some reason. Will puts the green fly in and waits .

There's a distant sound in the woods. It makes him feel warm. The sound is silky. Deep and rumbling in a way it makes Will's throat burn. The sound is calling Will's name.

Will looks over under the willow tree. It's the stag with the deep eyes that feel like forgiveness. There is recognition, they  know  each other.

Something pulls under the water. It's up to his thighs now. Will reels in. His lure is stuck to a decapitated head. The head looks at Will with its white eyes and stares at him. There's chunks missing and falling off from where the pin is sticking. 

The water is rising and bringing more corpses. They grab at him when the tide pulls them close and hold on.The head stuck to his gear lets out a blood curling wail. 

It was all Will's fault. He had done this (was this his design?) He knew it was his doing and now his sins were catching up to him. They grab at Will's feet. Will has nowhere to turn. He is stranded in the ocean of blood. The hands try to take what they can from Will. They try to take his lungs and his own blood mixes with theirs. 

Will can not scream. He tries to scream for help but he can not remember who to call.

His father had long been part of the corpses in the river. Will can see him. His father does not acknowledge him. He sinks down and becomes one with the crimson water.

There's that sound again. He turns his head to the strange creature with the familiar eyes. Its willow hands reach towards Will.

They wrap around him and pull him away from the clawing and wailing bodies.. Away from the freezing and burning river.

Will is sitting in a chair. There is a fire spreading. But Will does not feel concerned. There is no reason to be. He is safe. He is inside his blanket. Something cold cradles Will's face. Will opens his eyes to familiar ones.

The fire spreads and spreads and Will's lungs burn with it. The wails from the corpses reach his ears and drown him. But he is safe.

He watches those familiar eyes and they watch him in return. Unblinking, Unending. They let everything smolder and turn to ashes. Will can not breathe. But it is fine. He will be safe.

Will does not know what time it is when he jolts himself awake again from a dream that he can not quite remember. He does not recognize his surroundings. Will puts his feet out of the bed and they touch the blankets that were thrown to the floor in his sleep.

His throat feels dry. Will walks in on the walls a couple times before he finds the door. 

His surrounding warp as he tries to grab a hold of something. His limbs are on fire and his head is swarming with thoughts that buzz like bees and catch on worry.

He is standing in an unfamiliar staircase. He needs to check on his dogs. 

But his surroundings warp and shift around him when he tries to step down but before he knows he is already flying down. Will is not sure he can fly.

His hands flail and catch on to the railings before he flies too far. His limbs burn more now. 

There's that familiar voice again. He feels as though it had visited him in a distant dream. He looks up to the familiar eyes.

The eyes had followed him out of the river and to his house. And its hands were again wrapping around Will. Pulling him up again and away from the uncomfortable wood.

They look worried. Will isn't sure why.

“Will.” The voice repeats. The eyes search his face. “What are you doing here? Are you okay?”

Oh.  

Will returns from his confusion into Hannibal's arms. He is cradling Will's face and his neck. His hands are around him and on his hair and everywhere, pleasantly cold. Will feels out of breath.

Hannibal tries to pull away. He is saying something. But it is all just buzzing bees and flowing water and the howling of wind in his ears.

Will grabs on to Hannibal. He is warm and his hands feel loving and cool

Will hides his face under Hannibal's neck and tries to catch his breath. He wants to thank him. He feels the urge to babble so many things at once and the words bubble up on Will's chest uncomfortably tight and then they only shrink and shrivel up to desperate whimpers.

“Ha-Hannibal” is all he can get out before he drops all of his weight into the arms circling him.

Will can feel him stiffen, then inhale and sigh deep. The dip in his chest takes Will's head down and back up again. “Oh, Will”. 

Will clings tighter. Hannibal does not push him away. Doesn't chide him for not heeding his warnings and only holds will closer.

“It is cold out here, let's get you to bed.” Hannibal hums.

Will feels his heartstrings tug at the thought of being alone again. He decides to argue but it only comes out as incoherent half words and more whining. 

“No.” When Will finally manages to bring up the word from the crevices of his thoughts that is all he can seem to be able to say. 

“Come now” Hannibal is trying to guide Will back. Will can not find it in himself to be of any help and decides on letting Hannibal drag his weight up the stairs while he only manages to cling on to him like a persistent vine.

Hannibal sighs when they seem to find footing on cold, plain surface. Wills sighs and sticks closer in return. Ice pricks curl across the back of Will’s knees and The hand in his shoulder moves lower. Will thinks he is flying again when his feet lift from the ground and something grunts above him. Perhaps it's the heavens.

But this time he does not get propelled across the stairs but instead starts softly moving towards the guest room door.

He is not flying. He is floating?

The door keeps reaching closer and he feels distress rise up within him. The room is far and unpleasantly cold and humid and Hannibal is not there. He does not want to be alone with his nightmares and the corpses again. 

He wants to follow the strange creature into the woods.

He wants to be held by those eyes. 

He wants to feel safe again like he did with the creature, like he does with Hannibal. 

“Hush now, I got you Will.” The voice from above is raspy and it makes his spine tingle and oh. It's Hannibal's.

He goes to look around but the hands around him grasp tighter. He looks up and it's the creature with the horns. The world distorts around him and he feels out of his depths. He squints harder and it's Hannibal.

By the time he manages to come to this realization Hannibal is already putting him down on the bed. Will refuses to be anywhere near it and opts to cling tighter to resist..  

In a second attempt to voice his thoughts he still only manages to let out a string of whines and a single “No.” 

“Such petulance” Hannibal seems amused. “What is wrong dear Will?”

“I need you Hannibal.”

Hannibal stills. Their eyes lock and Will sees him slowly smile with his shark teeth. Like he'd been waiting to hear him say that.

“If you had wanted me to stay mylimasis you could only have ordered so.” Hannibal smiles with his eyes and they feel like forgiveness and sin. 

Hannibal lowers him on the bed again but does not let him go. “May I?’

It takes a moment for Will to register the question and he nods.

Hannibal gently lays him down and climbs on behind him.

HIs arm slides around Will and holds him close. They both exhale synchronously and sink into the bed. His other hand reaches up and  draws patterns on Will's hair. Scratching and pulling. The rhythm slows and so does Will's breathing. Hannibal's gentle breath on his back lulls him to sleep. Will yawns and all the days fatigue comes out with it.

He thinks of his dogs and only feels slightly guilty. But the dogs are taken care of and Hannibal is warm behind his back. He tries not to let his feverish brain contemplate the truth.

(He is in love with the Chesapeake ripper.)

“Stay here with me Hannibal”

Hannibal sighs and pulls him closer. “Where else would I go?”