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Will's head throbbed from the moment he woke up to the moment he went to bed.
The light hurt his eyes, he felt nauseous, and he felt as if his head was underwater.
It continues for four days before it gets so bad he can't even get out of bed. The dogs nose at him, paw at him--wanting let out and fed. Winston burrows under the blankets to check on him.
He hides under the covers and tries to work up the strength to get up and tend to his dogs--they need him.
Will takes the blanket off of his head and even with his eyes closed the light hurts his eyes, and his stomach rolls. He hasn't eaten anything since yesterday, but he dry heaves all the same. He pulls the blankets back over his head, he'll try again in a minute.
He hears all of the dogs, but Winston run towards the door but they do not bark. No one knocks, but he can faintly hear keys and then the door opens.
Who has keys to his house? Alana hasn't had a key for years.
"Down."
Hannibal?
He pulls the blanket off again, this time he opens his eyes, and sees Hannibal.
"Dr. Lecter?"
"Will, are you alright? I've gotten a few calls from Jack, you've not been answering your phone. He was going to come check on you but I offered."
Will couldn't have answered his phone even if he wanted to, the ringtone was too loud, so he'd put it on vibrate only but even that was too much for him--he'd thrown it against the wall when it wouldn't stop making noise--it's broken but at least it shut the fuck up. Will tries to speak--to tell Hannibal what is wrong, and why he hasn't been answering anyone, but gags when he opens his mouth.
Hannibal crosses the room quickly, he kneels in-front of Will, he touches Will's head with the back of his hand, "No fever."
"Migraine." Will manages to mumble.
Hannibal stands, leads the dogs to the kitchen and let's them out the side door, he then goes around closing all the curtains--blocking out as much sun as possible.
"How long have you had this migraine, Will?"
"Four days." He whispers, the sound of his own voice hurts his head.
"Oh." His voice is so soft, Will almost doesn't hear it.
Hannibal brings him a glass of water, it's neither warm nor cold. "Drink, Will, you're dehydrated. When did you last eat?"
"Yesterday, I think."
"I'll make you something in a moment, you need to nourish your body, to help it heal."
"'m not hurt." He mumbles, each word causing his head to pound.
"You're not injured, no, but you do need to heal, your body needs to readjust. Have you taken any medication?"
Will points to the various bottles on the bedside table, his eyes slip closed again--it's still too bright.
Hannibal hums next to him, "Excedrin, Tylenol, Advil, Aleve, were you trying to overdose yourself? Cause liver damage?" There is a tinge of anger.. or perhaps concern in his tone--Will struggles to decipher which.
"They usually help."
"I will be right back."
Will listens as Hannibal opens the door, letting the dogs back inside, but he doesn't come right back.
"Here let's put these on, perhaps then you'll be able to keep your eyes open." Hannibal slides a pair of sunglasses onto Will's face.
He doesn't own a pair so they must be Hannibal's--they're probably designer, and cost a fortune, Will recalls Hannibal wearing a pair of Ray Ban sunglasses once or twice, he remembers thinking how pretentious Hannibal looked in a three piece suit and sunglasses.
"Thank you, but you don't have to take care of me, I'll be fine, it'll pass."
"Will, you've not been answering your phone and no one has seen you in days. It's no trouble, I'm happy to help."
Will doesn't try to speak again, he sits in silence watching through tinted lenses as Hannibal instructs the dogs to follow him into the kitchen. Will listens as Hannibal feeds his dogs, gives them fresh water, and starts going through the cabinets and refrigerator looking for something to cook for Will.
Will dozes while waiting for Hannibal to return.
"Will, would you like to come sit at the table? Or I can bring the food in here to you?"
"I don't think I'm ready to stand up just yet." He speaks softly--trying not to aggravate his head more.
Hannibal nods and disappears back in the kitchen. He returns, a plate in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other, he places them on the bedside table. "I'll grab you more water, eat, please."
The coffee is black, and Will normally prefers at least a dash of cream but he's not about to complain when Hannibal went out of his way to make it for him at all.
Will lifts the mug and takes a small sip, savoring the rich taste, before moving on to the plate--it appears to be an omelette, not necessarily something he'd expect Hannibal to make, too simple.
"I was limited with what I could prepare, you need to go grocery shopping." Hannibal speaks as if reading Will's mind as he re-enters the room.
"Yeah, I don't cook often." Will murmurs, taking a bite.
Will eats in silence while Hannibal tidies up around the house--Will wants to tell him to stop, but knows that Hannibal wouldn't listen anyway, and maybe a little bit he likes being taken care of.
His head still throbs but he feels a little less like dying after eating, drinking two glasses of water and the entire mug of coffee. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, Will it's no trouble at all. Now, I have a few things I would like to try, if you're amenable."
"What did you have in mind?"
"Can you get up?"
"I think so, yeah."
"Then I'd like you to accompany me to the bathroom."
"The bathroom?" Will ask incredulously.
"Unless you'd like to attempt to sit on the kitchen counter, yes, the bathtub will be our best option. Rest for a moment longer while I prepare everything, I'll get you when it's ready." He disappears down the hall, bathroom door clicking shut behind him.
He lays back against the pillows, eyes closed, and tries to focus on anything but the pain in his head.. his entire body aches from it. He'd been stuck curled up in the fetal position for far too long--his back and knees are especially sore.
"Will?" Hannibal's voice is quiet, but seems to echo in Will's head.
"Ready?"
"If you still think you can get up, yes."
"I can." Will pushes himself up slowly, as he does so Hannibal goes into the kitchen, Will hears the freezer door open and close.
When Hannibal returns he's holding a bag of frozen mixed vegetables. "Planning to make me into soup?" He laughs, which only hurts his head more.
"Of course not, Will." He takes Will's hand and leads him to the bathroom.
Hannibal sets the frozen mixed vegetables onto the counter, Will sees that the tub is filled with a few inches of water.. just what the hell is Hannibal planning?
"I'd like you to sit on the edge of the tub, lean in and submerge your feet and hands in the water and I will place the bag of frozen vegetables on the back of your neck."
"Seriously? First expensive sunglasses in the house and now this?"
"You said you were willing to try, Will. My next step would've been a scalp massage and peppermint essential oil on your temples, but alas we are not in my home and you do not have any." Hannibal sticks his fingertips into the water, testing the temperature as he speaks..
"You think this will work?"
"It's worked for me in the past."
Will laughs--instantly regretting it, "I cannot picture you doing this."
"I assure you, Will, I have. Now, if you'd please get in before the water cools too much."
Will toes his socks off and steps into the tub, the slight warmth of the water feels really good. He takes a seat on the edge of the tub and bends forwards to place his hands in the water too--instantly he feels a little relief, whether it's true relief or just a placebo effect from thinking it will help he cannot say. Though the true relief comes when Hannibal gently pushes his hair off of his nape and places the cold, frozen bag of veggies onto his neck.
The sound he makes is more than a little embarrassing--somewhere between pained and pleasured. Thankfully Hannibal doesn't mention it.
"You stay like that and I'll be back shortly. I would advise a warm shower after this."
"You don't need to help me get into the shower."
"Perhaps not, but I'm happy to do so, besides I wouldn't want you getting the water too hot or too cold and exacerbating your migraine more."
Will sits in the bathroom, hands and feet underwater for what feels like hours, the frozen vegetables are completely defrosted and his limbs are falling asleep by the time Hannibal returns.
"Feeling any better?"
"A bit, yes."
"Good, now I'll drain the tub and get the shower started for you." Hannibal takes the defrosted bag of vegetables off of Will's neck as he speaks.
Will stands and steps out of the tub, he wipes his wet hands onto his shirt and glances to the overflowing hamper in the corner. "Shit, guess I need to do some laundry now."
"Do you have anything to put on after your shower? If so I'll do all of the laundry after you've taken your shower. If not, I can hand wash something in the kitchen sink and toss it in the dryer while you bathe."
Will can't help but wince when the shower is turned on--it's louder than he remembers it being.. then again everything has been so fucking loud the last few days. "Uh," he hesitates--trying to think, the noise from the shower is distracting, "There should be something in the drawers, I'll go look."
"Nonsense, you get in here and I'll determine what the best course of action is. Relax, and let the warmth soothe you."
Hannibal steps out of the bathroom--defrosted veggies in his hand, but Will half expects him to try to take his clothes off for him.
He places Hannibal's expensive sunglasses onto the countertop and immediately the brightness of the light makes him squint. He contemplates turning the light off completely but figures that Hannibal would end up scolding him for showering in the dark.
Halfway through his shower he drops the bottle of body wash, fuck, Hannibal said he was going to check Will's drawers for clean clothes, he's going to find Will private items.
How is he going to face Hannibal after he finds his sex toys and other things? Depending on which drawer specifically.. it could just be the soft cotton, lace and silk underwear or it could be the sheer lingerie sets. Fuck. His head throbs at the thought.
A moment later as he bends to pick the bottle up, Hannibal opens the bathroom door, "Are you alright? I heard something fall, it didn't sound heavy enough to be you, but I figured I had better check."
"Uh, yeah, I'm fine. Hands were slippery and I dropped the body wash. I shouldn't have bent to grab it, my head is pounding again."
"Do be careful, please, and try not to bend again. I've found some clothes for you to put on, would you like me to bring them in and set them on the counter? Or would you rather dress in the other room?"
"You, uh, you can bring them in here."
"I'll be right back then, try not to drop anything else."
Part of Will wants to make a 'don't drop the soap' joke, but he doesn't have the energy--and Hannibal probably wouldn't find it funny.
Will is rinsing the conditioner from his hair when the door opens again, "I'll leave them here on the counter. I've also got a towel warming up in the dryer for you, would you like me to grab it now or do you need a few more minutes?"
"Um now's good, thank you."
"My pleasure, mielasis."
Mielasis? Will wants to ask but Hannibal has already left the bathroom.
He reappears a few moments later, just as Will is turning the water off. Hannibal pulls the shower curtain open slightly and hands Will the warm towel.
"I'll see you once you're dressed."
Will hums and begins drying himself off. He still feels like shit but definitely better, his head still hurts--more of a dull ache than full on throbbing now--he no longer feels like throwing up, or like his head is underwater. The light still hurts his eyes a bit, so he wraps the dryer warmed towel around his hips and takes another one out of the cabinet to dry his hair, once it's sufficiently dry he slips Hannibal's sunglasses back on.
He finally looks to see what clothes Hannibal has supplied him--he has to stop himself from storming out in just the towel and sunglasses to ask Hannibal what the hell he's playing at bringing Will the things he did.
Soft, cotton with lace trim, light green boy short underwear, an older pair that honestly Will isn't even sure fit anymore--Will usually only wears stuff like this when he's going to be home alone and wants to feel pretty but still be comfortable, they're reminiscent of men's boxer briefs but Will likes the added lace detail.
He has some other more.. risqué things in his drawer, he is at least thankful Hannibal hadn't brought him a thong to put on.
He pulls them on, then a plain pair of long white socks, a well worn used-to-be black, possibly too tight t-shirt is pulled on next and that's when Will realizes that Hannibal didn't provide him with any pants.
Does he honestly expect Will to walk out of the bathroom in a t-shirt, socks and underwear that barely can contain his cock?
He re-wraps the damp, now cooled towel around his waist before exiting the bathroom--he must look ridiculous, sunglasses and all.
Will makes a b-line for the dresser, intent on finding pants or at the very least a pair of shorts.
"Come sit." Hannibal's voice stops him before he makes it to the dresser.
He turns to look at Hannibal who's sitting on Will's bed, he's taken his suit jacket off, his sleeves are rolled up and shoes off--he looks so casual.
"Seeing that you failed to provide me with pants, I need to get some first."
"Mielasis, come sit."
"That's the second time you've called me that, what does it mean?"
"It's of no matter, just a slip of the tongue."
"No, it's not."
"Come sit, Will. I would like to check on you."
He let's the strange nickname go, not having the energy to argue about it, and instead decides to bring up the pants situation. "You can check all you want once I'm wearing pants."
Hannibal tsks, "You do not have any that are clean, what you're wearing will suffice, though I would advise against the damp towel."
"I can't run around the house in front of my psychiatrist in panties." Will internally cringes at the word, but says it all the same to get his point across.
"You're not running around the house in front of your psychiatrist, I am not officially your doctor, besides I had thought we were friends."
"Fine then, I cannot run around the house while in pain in panties in front of my friend."
"Stop being so petulant and come sit."
He sighs, not wanting to argue and goes to sit on the end of the bed, making sure there is a good amount of distance between them--his first instinct had been to practically sit in Hannibal's lap--he thinks better of it given their professional relationship as well as his pants situation.
"How is your head feeling now?" Hannibal asks.
"Better, thank you."
"One to ten, pain level?"
"Before you showed up? Ninety-nine, now.. maybe a six."
"Definitely better then. Do you have any idea what triggered the migraine?"
"No.."
"Stress?"
"You know what my job is.. the things I see.. I'm always stressed."
"Change in diet?"
"You saw my fridge and cabinets.. draw your own conclusions." Will quips.
"Allergies? I know the pollen count was up over the past few days."
"I don't think so."
"Have you been masturbating regularly?"
"W-what? I don't.. how does.. I don't think my sexual habits are any of your concern."
"Masturbation and orgasm release certain hormones that can help ease tension. When was the last time you orgasmed, Will?"
"Last week.. maybe?"
"You need those hormones in your system more regularly, if I was your doctor I would recommend masturbation every night before bed or perhaps in the mornings during your shower."
"But you're not my doctor." Will says flatly--he half expects Hannibal to respond with something along the lines of, 'I could be.' or 'Would you like me to play doctor with you?' though that second one is only something he imagines Hannibal saying in his dreams.
"No, just a friend offering some friendly advice."
Will laughs--still feeling odd about Hannibal's questions, but somehow also feeling relieved.. good almost.
Hannibal asks a few more mundane questions, all the while Will is focused on the damp towel beneath him--Hannibal was right again.
Will reluctantly stands and unwraps himself, he drops the towel to the floor--out of the corner of his eye he swears he sees Hannibal's brow twitch, from the mess or the sight.. he's unsure.
He sits on the bed and pulls the blankets over his bare legs.
"Will, are you uncomfortable?"
"Yes, but.. not for the reasons you're probably thinking." He needs to shut up, he's going to say something that will upset himself and Hannibal.
"Tell me, Will, why are you uncomfortable now?"
Will swallows harshly, he shouldn't have said that. "It's nothing, really. I just.. I feel like you're judging me." He lies.
"Will, I know you're lying."
"Fuck, you're gonna make my migraine worse again, just drop it, please."
Hannibal sighs, "I do not wish to upset you, but please, Will, you do not need to feel self-conscious about your body."
"I'm not self-conscious, I just don't let people see me in anything other than strictly masculine clothing, or half undressed unless we're fucking and even then the lights are off, okay maybe I am self-conscious but.. that's not why I'm uncomfortable right now." Will instantly regrets every single word he's said.
"If you're thinking that I will think of you as less of a man for wearing you you deem comfortable, you are far from the truth, dear Will."
"Are you implying that you like me wearing women's underwear?"
"They're hardly women's underwear, Will. Are you the one who purchased them? The one who wears them? The one who feels comfortable and dare I say alluring in them?" He hums, but does not give Will time to say anything else. "Then they are your underclothes, no one else's."
Will's never thought of it that way.. maybe Hannibal is right, and Will does feel nice in them.. they're pretty and soft and they're Will's, he did buy them and he is the one who wears them, they're his and no one else's. "My uh, my head is starting to hurt again, let's not talk about this anymore, please."
"Of course, but let me say one last thing, mielasis. The green is beautiful and compliments you well." Hannibal pauses for a moment, "Now, if you wouldn't mind coming closer, I'd like to try a dash of acupressure and perhaps a scalp and temple massage."
"I thought I didn't have the right oils for that."
"You do not, however the peppermint essential oil isn't not required for the massage to still work."
"I uh, I'm not sure, I think I need to lay down." He suddenly feels almost dizzy.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah.. yeah I'm fine." His voice shakes and he's certain he doesn't sound convincing.
Hannibal pulls Will closer, feels his forehead, looks into his eyes, checks his pulse.. all the while Will feels like he can't breathe--not like there's something wrong with him.. more like he doesn't know how to feel being so close to Hannibal.. especially while wearing what he's wearing.
"Relax, Will, you are alright." Hannibal's tone is low and soothing, he rubs at Will's shoulders, up the back of his neck and all around his head--there is a twinge of pain with it but for the most part it feels so good, and Will forgets any reservations he had about this.
He begins leaning into Hannibal's touch, and before he realizes it he's practically laying on top of Hannibal, he's in his lap, back pressed against Hannibal's chest.
Will barely realizes when Hannibal's hands leave his scalp and move lower, he gently kneads at Will's chest, his soft belly, the sharpness of his hip bones. He does however jump slightly when Hannibal's fingers touch his bare thighs.
"Shh, mielasis, relax." Hannibal's voice is so soothing and each movement of his fingers feels so good that Will doesn't struggle, his head isn't particularly hurting and the warmth of Hannibal's body against his own is comforting.
He relaxes into Hannibal's touch once again, as Hannibal rubs and kneads soft, little circles into Will's soft, pale thighs. It barely registers in Will's mind when Hannibal's fingers move higher, lightly touching the soft fabric of his underwear. His cock is soft beneath the green fabric, and Hannibal's hands are warm. "Hannibal." His name is barely a whisper, soft and sweet and sighed out.
Will's cock twitches against Hannibal's palm, he suddenly aches for Hannibal--for his touch. But Hannibal is his psychiatrist, or close enough, they shouldn't do this. "We shouldn't," he starts to say.
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No." Will murmurs, pressing his hardening cock against Hannibal's hand. "Don't stop." He expects Hannibal's fingers to creep beneath the fabric, however he begins stroking Will through his panties.
A damp spot quickly forms, "Wait, lemme take my underwear off."
"No." Hannibal growls softly into his ear.
"But,"
"I like you wearing them." Hannibal rubs at the wet spot with his thumb, smearing more precum into the material.
Will whines, "Please." What he's begging for he's not sure--is he begging for Hannibal to stop and let him strip or is he begging for more, for Hannibal to not stop?
"Shh, I'll take good care of you, Will." Hannibal bites at Will's earlobe as he speaks. Continuing to stroke Will's cock through his underwear.
He's hard and throbbing and presses himself against Hannibal's palm. Soft moans and whines fill the silence of the room, his eyes slip shut when Hannibal's other hand moves under his shirt to pinch and rub at his nipples.
Will is acutely aware of Hannibal's cock pressing against his lower back--he wonders if Hannibal wants to fuck him.. or maybe be fucked by him? Truthfully Will's not sure he's ready for that just yet. Does that make him a bad person if he let's Hannibal do this but doesn't reciprocate?
"Relax, Will, you're tensing up again, you're going to make your head hurt again."
"Still hurts a bit." He mumbles.
Hannibal shushes him, gently. He begins to stroke Will's cock again, his touch seems more sure.
Will can't help but whine and moan and push himself against Hannibal's hand. It's been awhile since he's touched himself--his libido hasn't been the highest--and even longer since anyone else has touched him.
Soon he develops a bit of a rhythm, rocking back and forth against Hannibal's hand, no longer caring that his underwear are being ruined, no longer caring that Hannibal is the closest thing he has to a doctor currently. Will wants this.. Hannibal wants this.. so why not let it happen?
His head tilts back to rest against Hannibal's shoulder, every so often Will will turn his head, pressing his face into Hannibal's neck, breathing in his scent. Each movement of Will's hips feels so good, pressing against Hannibal's palm with his cock and against Hannibal's erection with his ass. Feeling that Hannibal is aroused too, is very reassuring--Will hasn't been worried that Hannibal doesn't find him attractive, but he has worried, a little bit, that Hannibal is only doing this to help Will feel better.
Every noise Will makes goes directly into Hannibal's ear, and every so often Will feels Hannibal shudder slightly against him--is Hannibal getting off too? Are the noises Will makes and the friction of his rocking hips enough?
Hannibal has long since stopped stroking Will's cock, instead his entire hand cups Will's cock and balls through the thin, damp cotton and lace of his panties--he doesn't squeeze but there is pressure there as Will rubs and grinds against his hand.
Will's close--so fucking close, he wants to come, wants to feel good, but isn't looking forward to being separated from Hannibal's embrace. "'m gonna," he tries to speak, but is shushed by Hannibal again.
"Shh, go ahead, mielasis, come for me."
Will's entire body trembles as his cock twitches and pulses as he releases sticky and warm against Hannibal's palm, in his underwear, accompanied by a long, high pitched whine--that may or may not sound like Hannibal's name.
He collapses against Hannibal--worn out and riding the high of his orgasm, the pain in his head vaguely registering through the rush of oxytocin in his system.
Maybe he's delirious and imagining things in the afterglow, but he swears he feels Hannibal rut against his ass a few times followed by what he can only imagine is the sensation of Hannibal coming in his pants.
He's too sleepy and maybe a little bit afraid to ask.
--
When Will wakes up he feels a lot better, albeit a bit cold. His cheeks flush brightly when his memories come flooding back--he'd let Hannibal see him in panties and he'd ridden Hannibal's hand til he came in said panties.
Fuck.
That's when he realizes he's no longer in the cotton and lace pair--he pulls the blanket up slowly and peaks, bright red cotton boyshort cut underwear with a tiny bow on the front.
His cheeks burn with embarrassment--had Hannibal washed and changed him, while he slept? Or was he awake enough to consent but not remember?
Fuck.
Where is Hannibal now? Has he gone home? No, he would stay to check if Will was alright, then where-
His thoughts are interrupted when Hannibal walks in from the kitchen, "Ah, you're awake, good. How are you feeling, Will?" He sounds so.. calm as if he didn't just bring Will to orgasm a short while ago--was it short? How long has it been? The room is lit by a single lamp and no light seems to shine in from around the blinds and curtains.
"Fine." He speaks slowly, mouth dry.
"Drink." Hannibal lifts a glass of cool water to Will's lips, he tries to take the cup into his own hands, but Hannibal does not allow him.
"I can drink on my own."
"You can, but I rather like helping you, mielasis."
There's that word again, "You keep calling me that, you must tell me what it means."
"It's of no importance, Will."
"It is, Hannibal, please tell me."
"That's the first time you've spoken my name out loud."
"No, it's not, and don't change the subject, tell me what that word means."
"Dear." Hannibal speaks quietly.
"You've been calling me dear?"
"How does that make you feel?"
"Don't try that shit, why have been calling me that all day?"
Hannibal sighs but his expression remains flat. "Calling you such felt natural."
"But you couldn't speak English otherwise I would've known.. why wouldn't you want me to know that?"
"I was not intentionally withholding information from you, Will."
"But you spoke a language that I don't understand."
"It was unintentional the first time, a slip of the tongue, but then I continued to do it."
"Why?"
"Why does one do anything Will? Because they wanted to. But if it makes you uncomfortable, I can stop."
Will shakes his head quickly, "No, no, I don't want you to stop."
"What do you want, mielasis?"
Will inhales sharply, words caught in his throat--does he speak honestly or lie? Hannibal's distaste for the rude stops the lie before it can truly form. "Y-you, Hannibal, I want you." He stutters as he speaks.
"How do you want me, mylimasis?"
"That's a different word, you can't d-do that to me."
"I would call you every term of endearment I know if you would let me. Now, answer the question, mylimasis."
Will's heart hammers in his chest--he's not afraid of Hannibal or of speaking the truth, he is beyond elated at this turn of events, all of his dreams are coming true, he hopes. "I want you in any way you'll have me, be that as your patient or in your bed."
"You've never been my patient, Will."
"Then you would have me as a lover?"
"I would have you as a partner, if you're amenable."
"You want me as a partner?"
"Is that what you want, Will?"
"I asked you first." Will says, petulantly.
"Yes." He speaks, plainly.
"Come here." Will reaches for Hannibal, who is still standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
Hannibal steps closer but stops just short of Will's reach. "Are you certain this is what you want, Will?"
Will leans forward and grabs Hannibal, dragging him down onto the bed, "Yes, Hannibal, I've wanted this for a long time."
"How long?"
"Since the ambulance, when you saved that man's life."
"You see me as a hero?"
"Yes, but it wasn't that you were saving his life that helped me realize."
"Tell me, mylimasis, what was it?"
Will licks his lips, eyes darting to Hannibal's lips before back to his eyes--he wants to kiss him.
"The blood." He whispers--knowing Hannibal can hear him clearly, they're so close.
"What about the blood?"
"Your skin was covered in it and I couldn't help but stare, you were so beautiful."
"Finding someone or something beautiful is not the same as wanting to be with them or it."
"No, but finding someone, you, so beautiful helped me to realize that I've not had much beauty in my life of late and perhaps I'd like some."
Hannibal hums, "Perhaps?" The upward inflection says he's asking but Will does not answer with words.
He leans in, presses his saliva slick lips against Hannibal's. There is a moment where neither of them move before they're tongues slide together, arms wind around each other, Will's fingers become tangled in the hair at the nape of Hannibal's neck.
The kiss breaks, but their foreheads remain touching, Will's breathing is harsh through his nose.
"How are you feeling now, mielasis?"
"Amazing."
"Are you certain?"
"So long as you're here with me, yes."
"If you need any help relieving some tension I'd be more than happy to do so." The corners of Hannibal's mouth tip up in an almost smirk.