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Will woke to the sound of retching coming from the bathroom. The other side of the sheets was cold. He tiredly pulled himself up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and rubbing his eyes. He looked at the clock on the nightstand. 2:30 A.M. it read. Quietly he made his way to the bathroom.
The first thing he saw was Hannibal, on his knees, leaning over the toilet. His arms rested on the seat above his head, which his head was laying on. His face was practically in the toilet. There was another gag. Will creeped behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder and rubbing down his back in hopes of comforting him. He felt Hannibal stiffen before immediately relaxing in the others touch.
“You okay?” Will asked, his voice quiet in case of a headache. Hannibal gave him a rigid nod as he spit into the toilet before finally moving from it. Will could finally see his face. He was pale, paler than normal, and tears clung to his eyelashes. There was a slight wobble in his lip and his hands shook tirelessly.
“Sorry.. For having woken you up like this.” Hannibal mumbled as he wiped his hand on his arm. Will had just now realized that his shirt was thrown over the edge of the bathtub. There were signs of vomit on it too. Hannibal rested his head on the edge of the toilet, his eyes were glazed over. Will brushed his hand through his hair, pushing damp strands out of his face. He can tell he has a fever.
“Don’t worry about it,” he stood, “I’m gonna get you some water, okay?”
“Mh.” With that Will walked out of the room to the kitchen. He grabs a glass from the cabinet over the sink and pours water into it. When he gets back he sees that Hannibal has moved from beside the toilet to the side of the bathtub. He’s looking up at the ceiling. Will sat beside him, carefully handing him the cup. Hannibal gratefully took it, taking small sips from it every few minutes.
“What do you think made you sick? You weren’t like this when we went to bed.” Hannibal laid his head against Wills shoulder, letting out a wet cough.
“Simply allergies, I suppose.” Will let out a short hum in response.
“Let’s get you back to bed.”
He hauled Hannibal back to their room, guiding him to the bed. He went back into the bathroom shortly to grab a rag, dampening it in the sink. He folded it neatly and pressed it against Hannibals forehead.
“What’s this for?” He asked groggily. He already felt himself drifting off again.
“You’re kinda warm. Better safe than sorry.” Will rubbed Hannibals chest, trying to ease this ragged breathing. “Do you want some ginger ale? It should help with the nausea.” Hannibal shook his head.
“Soda is unhealthy. It’s full of sugar and–” Will put a finger to his lips.
“And it can make you feel better. Shut up and I’ll grab you a can.” Hannibal could only nod.
As he waited in the room silently, waiting for his husband to get back. It felt lonely and cold. His body felt warm but he shivered all the same. However, the silence didn’t last long. Will was back within only a few minutes. He put the soft drink on the bedside table, next to the water. He’d also brought a trashcan as well as some Tylenol with him. Hannibal looked down at it and back at him.
“Just in case.” He said quickly.
“You seem awfully prepared.” Hannibal took another slow sip of his water.
“I used to get sick a lot as a kid. Kind of going off instinct.” Will chuckled nervously. He climbed into bed, next to his lover. “Do you need anything before we go back to sleep? It’s still pretty early.”
“I’ll be alright.”
The two drifted into a fitful sleep.
It couldn’t have been longer than an hour before Will was awoken again by the sound of vomiting, but it was closer this time. It appears his precaution was needed after all. Will turned over to see Hannibal vomiting into the trashcan, both of his arms wrapped around the sides. It was violent, it sounded like it hurt. Will pulled himself up, turned the bedside light on and wrapped himself around Hannibal. He could feel the way the others stomach convulsed under him. It almost made him want to vomit too. He peppered soft kisses on the back of nape, listening to Hannibals ragged breathing.
“Shh you’re okay..” Will mumbled, he grabbed the washcloth that was forgotten in the middle of the bed. It was still cool, but not as damp. He used it to wipe the newly built sweat off his face. It took over three minutes for Hannibal to finish vomiting. Will used the same washcloth to wipe his mouth before throwing it somewhere on the floor. Hannibal practically leaned against him.
“S’rry you have t’ see me so weak.” Hannibal apologized. His accent was the heaviest Will had ever heard it. He kissed him at the top of his head.
“Don’t say sorry. Everybody gets sick sometimes, you aren’t weak.” He brushed Hannibals bangs out of his face. The two sat like that for a while, listening to each others breathing, listening to each others heartbeat. It didn’t take long for Hannibal to fall asleep, lying on Wills chest. Will carefully moved him back onto the bed. When he didn’t stir, Will sat the trashcan down on the floor once more. He laid beside him, pulling the covers over them both. He brushed his thumb over his lovers hand, over his knuckles and the small scars that littered them. He kissed Hannibal on the forehead once more before closing his eyes and falling deep into slumber.
They weren’t bothered for the rest of the night. But, as they’d wake up they’d see that whatever Hannibal had, he’d given it to Will.