Feeling Fine (Hannibal, Will)

[Wolfwings22]

I want to thank everyone who commented and read my last Hannibal fic! I wasn’t sure that it would find an audience here since the show has been over for a while and I’m just obsessing over it now. But thank you for all your kind words and for reading and enjoying! Hannibal has quickly become one of my special interests and I have an abundance of stories for them that I’ve written or am still writing. I plan on posting a good many of them here, and I hope they are to everyone’s liking. Thanks for reading!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

    Prompt- “You’re sure I’m sick?  ‘Cause I feel fine.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

    It started with a sniffle.

 

    Well, technically it started way before that two days ago when Will had woken up and rolled over to kiss Hannibal between the eyes. It was then that Hannibal had detected a slight odor beyond the fact that Will had morning breath. No, this scent was sour with a sense of foreboding, like a summer storm. It was a scent that Hannibal detected all the time when he was out running errands or even with his patients. The scent wasn’t exactly unusual attached to Will, though he would be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued this time.

 

    Hannibal said nothing as he watched Will go through their daily routine, leave for work, and come back only to repeat it the next day. That was until Saturday when their schedules opened up, and they could often spend all day with each other without clients interrupting and it was when Will was less likely to be called out for a case. Their days were usually spent at the farmers market or going for walks in the park, some normalcy in their hectic lives of trying to live a double life. Hannibal enjoyed those moments, and he knew that Will did too.

 

    So, when Hannibal woke up to the feel of the bed shaking, he didn’t have to think long to realize what was going on.

 

    Hannibal’s eyelids opened slowly to find Will with his back facing him, shoulders hunched as he muffled a few jarring coughs into a fist. Despite Will’s best attempts, the sound was highly noticeable, accompanied by the shake of the bed it was nearly impossible for Hannibal not to wake up. Still, he gave Will a few moments reprieve from his prying words, knowing exactly how Will would react to Hannibal’s concern.

 

    Once the fit passed, Will settled back in bed with a bleary sniffle. It was a sound that Hannibal absolutely detested. The way that someone would suck back all the mucus in their nasal cavity, into their respiratory track, and often swallow it sent a shiver down his spine. There were plenty more polite ways to deal with it, and certainly not subjecting those around to hear it if at all possible. If it was anyone else, Hannibal would’ve strictly pointed out how rude Will was being, though this was Will he was talking about. In fact, he wasn’t even sure that Will was completely awake yet.

 

    The sour scent had turned sweet as it laid across Will’s body. Perspiration mixed with the scent of sickness, milling in an aroma that was unique to Will. It overpowered his usual scent of rainswept oak aftershave (that Hannibal bought for him) and the stronger tang of his sweat with an almost woodland smell. It was one that Will would always hold, no matter where he lived or what he did. Everyone had that scent that engulfed them, one that Hannibal could detect no matter what. However, with the added hint of sickness and no doubt fever, that familiar scent was becoming harder and harder to detect.

 

    After a few more moments of silence, Hannibal couldn’t stop himself from wrapping an arm around Will’s waist and pulling him close, nose buried into the back of his neck until the softness of his freshly washed curls tickled his skin. Will had finally started to use Hannibal’s own shampoo, and Hannibal couldn’t have been more pleased. His head angled to the side so that he could trail light kisses into the crown of his head.

 

    Will let out a tired mumble, hips shifting back as he rolled onto his other side to face Hannibal. Sleepily, his eyes opened to see a blurry, yet smiling Hannibal in front of him, close enough so that their noses almost touched.

 

    “G’morning,” Will yawned, jaws stretched wide.

 

    Hannibal shifted his hands under his head, propping himself up slightly. “Good morning to you as well. How are you feeling?”

 

    Will’s brow knit together in confusion, look fading into one of defensiveness. “Fine,” he answered swiftly.

 

    Hannibal dropped it instantly. Dealing with a stubborn Will Graham wasn’t something he wanted to tackle without first a cup of coffee. Delicately, he brushed a lock of curls behind Will’s ear, fingers trailing on his strong jaw. Stubble brushed against his calloused fingers, the desire to grip hard and pull Will in for a passionate kiss at the forefront of his mind. He managed to refrain himself, grip still tight on his lover as he looked into his stormy blue eyes.

 

    “What would you like to do today,” Hannibal continued, fingers tracing downwards until his pointer finger was nestled in the curve of Will’s chin, pulling down to reveal the tips of Will’s teeth, teeth that he could almost feel trailing love bites from his neck downwards. Thoughts like that could work him up more than he cared to admit, and it took longer than usual to calm himself down. Those thoughts were best left for later when the scent of sickness no longer clung to Will like a second skin.

    

    Will gave a light sniffle, bridge of his nose wrinkling and left cheek twitching. The sound ordinarily wouldn’t have been so loud if Hannibal wasn’t so close. It shot through his ears, the hairs on the back of his arms standing on end. His lip began to curl, though he was quick to force himself to relax. Rudeness may be at the forefront of things that Hannibal couldn’t let go, but as with everything, it changed when it came to Will.

 

    “Maybe the market?”

 

    “I was thinking the same.”

 

    Hannibal couldn’t help himself as a twinge of curiosity had him leaning forward and kissing the tip of Will’s nose. The appendage was warmer than usual, slightly reddened and inflamed. His lips lingered there for a moment more until he received his prize: a minuscule twitch that most people would never be able to pick up. Hannibal, however, was not like most people.

 

    Will’s eyelashes fluttered closed, top lip curling as a haze fell over his eyes. The wrinkle in his brow shone against his pale features as his breath started to catch, hesitantly so, the soft puff of air warm against Hannibal’s cheek. Will’s hand snapped up to his face, flexed fingers rubbing harshly against the outer curves of his nostrils. When it did nothing to alleviate the itch, he pushed away from Hannibal and rolled onto his other side, face tucked into the crook of his elbow tightly.

    

    “RrCsh’Shoo! Escshoo! Ecschoo! Rcsh’Shoo!”

 

    “Gesundheit.”

 

    “Ugh, thanks.” Will rolled back to face Hannibal, save a bit of a distance this time, and raised his palm to his nose, the heel forced against his nose as he rubbed upwards, a small squelch filling the otherwise quiet space.

 

    “Will,” Hannibal scolded, voice laced with agitation.

 

    Will dropped his hand and rolled his eyes, a groan rolling deep in his throat. He knew that tone Hannibal had with him, and the cannibal would not use it again without there being consequences on Will’s end. Normally the severity was only Hannibal’s coldness or perhaps a long lecture while the older man explained exactly how rude Will had been. This time, however, Will was well aware. Hannibal’s distain for poor hygiene and being unsanitary was well known, especially to Will. Not treading carefully was a surefire way to test Hannibal’s already trying patience.

 

    The trek to the master bathroom was thankfully short with Will immediately grabbing a handful of tissues from the box on the back lid of the toilet. He brought them up to his nose and blew hard, not caring that Hannibal could most definitely hear from the other room. It was surprisingly productive, and he shuddered at the yellowish white mucus that his body had produced. After a few more honking blows, Will threw the tissues in the wastebasket and reached for the knob.

 

    A tiny voice in his head stopped him as he glanced down at both of his hands, turning them over expectantly. He bit back a groan as he turned to the faucet and forced it on, wetting his hands before grabbing a generous pump of soap and beginning to work it through is fingers messily. He counted to twenty, sure that Hannibal could be doing the same, before rinsing. He dried his hands on a nearby hand towel and left the bathroom, fatigue pulling on his limbs noticeably. Shaking the sleep from his eyes, he managed to crawl back into the warmth of the bed next to Hannibal, body tucked forward and forehead pressed against Hannibal’s chest.

 

    “Sorry.”

 

    Hannibal paused briefly from petting Will’s head, resuming a moment later as though Will hadn’t spoken.

 

    “Whatever could you be sorry for?”

 

    “Being rude. I know how you feel about....germs.”

 

    “I am not a germaphobe, Will. I only wish for everyone to have manners when it comes to them,” Hannibal corrected.

 

    Will said nothing, still tucked against his lover. His forehead was still against his chest, though his face was twisted toward his shoulder. His hearing easily picked up the sound of Hannibal heartbeat, the steady thump that delivered the lifeblood through his entire body. Powerful. Deliberate. Unchanging. Those were the sounds that Will always expected when he listened for it, and now was no exception.

 

    Hannibal’s heartbeat was a source of comfort that Will often sought out when the world around him became too overwhelming. Change was inevitable, especially living the life that they did, constantly worried that someone to find out what Hannibal was and that Will refused to turn him in. There were numerous days Will would come home from work practically shaking in panic, eyes wide and breathing sporadic. Hannibal would wrap him in a hug and hold him close until the younger man would collapse against him, sobbing and trembling. No matter what words Hannibal would utter to calm him down, nothing did it as quickly as the sound of his heartbeat. That meant that Hannibal was there, he was real, and he was very much alive.

 

    “Are you certain you’re feeling alright?” Hannibal’s voice cut through the chaos of Will’s thoughts, dragging him back to the here and now.

 

    Will let out an aggregated huff, head withdrawn reluctantly from the safety of Hannibal’s chest. “Why do you keep asking me that? I said that I’m fine.”

 

    Hannibal took in Will’s paler than usual complexion, the beginning of stuffiness in his voice, and of course that sickly sweet scent. It wouldn’t have taken a man of Hannibal’s caliber to decipher the obvious about the man in front of him. Stubbornness just happened to be something that Hannibal specialized in, especially when it came to one Will Graham.

 

    “I should get up and start breakfast.” Hannibal smoothed the curls back from Will’s forehead in a simple stroke. The kiss that he then planted on Will’s skin was soft and fleeting. Warmth tingled in Hannibal’s lips as he drew back, the beginnings of a fever prickling right under Will’s skin. “Any special requests?”

    

    Will threw an arm over his face lazily. “Hmmm, eggs,” he requested after a moment. “And bacon?”

 

    It was a simple meal that Will requested, though Hannibal couldn’t see himself only making that for the man beside him. There were so many more things that paired wonderfully with eggs that he couldn’t resist.

 

    “I will find a way to incorporate that into our meal.” The bed lifted slightly from Hannibal’s side as he draped his legs off the side before rising to his feet. “I’ll come and get you when it’s ready.”

 

    Will wanted to argue, claim that he would be down in a few minutes. Unfortunately, he feared that if he tried to say anything that his throat would make good on the urge he felt to cough. Sneezing a couple times in the morning was one thing; having it followed by a coughing fit was quite another.

 

    When Will gave no resistance, Hannibal padded from the room quietly, grabbing his robe on the way out and throwing it around his shoulders. The second that he stepped out and the door was closed behind him, Will suddenly felt cold and surprisingly listless.

 

    He rolled onto his back with his hands rested on his stomach as he took a mental inventory. His ears were full and beginning to throb, while his throat was sore and protested every swallow. His nose had begun to run, and it wouldn’t be long before tissues would need to be ready at his disposal at all times. The body aches were something new, constant and heavy as though someone was digging into his muscles with their fists, kneading and pushing until he squirmed under the pressure. All that could’ve been ignored if not for the obvious fatigue that he was fighting, even turning onto his side or back left him winded and tired. The walk to and from the bathroom felt like a hike up Everest with him barely able to keep his eyes open.

 

    Suddenly the thought of food didn’t sound all that appealing. His stomach lurched when he thought about Hannibal making eggs, or anything else, despite that Hannibal’s food was always amazing. He feared that anything he may try to eat would come right back up, and although he had been hungry when he made his request to Hannibal, his appetite had effectively vanished, only to be replaced with a thin veil of nausea. Food anywhere near him wouldn’t be pleasant for himself or Hannibal.

 

    He couldn’t allow Hannibal to make a thorough and lengthy meal that he was going to be unable to eat. Will felt guilty enough when he didn’t contribute nearly as much as Hannibal when it came to cooking—per both of their requests. The last thing he wanted was to offend him.

 

    Slowly, Will thrust the covers from his body with a thrash of his arm. Coldness immediately creeped into his body until he found himself curled forward in a fetal position, face buried in his mattress. His teeth began to chatter, the sound vibrating through his skull like when he had to get a filling at the dentist. His jaw trembled as he brushed a hand over his face, frustration pooling in his stomach.

 

    ‘Get up,’ he snapped to himself.

 

    His elbows pressed on either side of the mattress and on the mental count of three, he jolted upwards. The world spun momentarily until he was able to catch himself with a hand on his nightstand before he could effectively fall out of bed. His fingers curled into the fine textured wood as his vision swam, the effort of sitting up more than his body could tolerate.

 

    Unfortunately for Will, that wasn’t the only predicament he was forced to deal with.

 

    Eyes wide, Will scrambled for the tissue box that he kept on the corner of the nightstand. Though not normally used for this purpose, Hannibal had always insisted on purchasing the ones with the most lotion that would be gentlest on the skin, to which Will was suddenly immensely grateful as he forced a wadded up bundle hard against the underside of his nose as he rocked forward.

 

    “Hrhcs’Shoo! Ecsh’Shoo! EschHoo! EschShoo! Hrchs’Shoo!” Will shook his head to clear it in surprise. It was highly unusual to sneeze more than three times, unless it was an allergy attack when there was no telling how many times he could sneeze in a row. Even illness wasn’t that cruel to him, preferring for him to sneeze just once mightily to rid the itch from the innermost section of his sinuses.

 

    Grimacing, Will was forced to discard his handful of tissues in favor for another, cleaner batch. Snot hung from his nose as he reached, dangerously close to dripping right on his lap. Oh how thankful he was that Hannibal couldn’t see him right now, see how utterly disgusting Will was. A man that had to deal with a runny nose in the bed that they shared would not be Hannibal’s idea of a romantic occasion.

 

    Pushing the nagging thoughts from his mind, Will took out a few more and clamped them hard under his nose, blowing so forcefully that his ears popped. The sensation was painful and jarring, Will’s body twisting to keep himself upright as his equilibrium faltered in front of him.

 

    Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out.

 

    Will blinked his eyes quickly to force the haze away just in time. He managed to keep the tissues in place and wiped the residual wetness from his fit. Blowing his nose should be avoided at all costs, it seemed. How long he could go without it would be a test if ever there was one.

 

    Determination culminated in his aching muscles until he had talked himself into standing. His hands anchored himself on either side as he stood, black dots clouding his vision. Eyes blinking rapidly, Will wrapped his arms around his middle as he shuffled forward, shivers racking his frame and making each step that much more difficult. The dining room was his goal, and he would be damned if he couldn’t even make it that far without assistance.

 

    It took much longer than normal for him to make it down the stairs and to the dining room. He was hoping to creep in with Hannibal none the wiser until he was close enough to wrap his arms around the older man’s waist and bury his head in the curve of his shoulders along his upper back, joking how Hannibal’s body, no matter the position, had a place where Will could slip in, and mold against Hannibal, clinging on for dear life until Hannibal would sigh in exasperation, turn around, and kiss him passionately. It was routine in a way, expected. But if Will even tried to attempt that, he was certain Hannibal would figure things out much quicker than he already was.

 

    Will forced those thoughts away as he continued on his path, sniffling pathetically into his wrist as he went. Soft light shone down the hallway from the kitchen when he drew closer, though that was also when an itch began to make itself known starting his ears before working its way through his sinuses. He gave a powerful sniff, which only served to propel the itch even deeper into his respiratory tract with a burning vengeance. Will kept walking, begging for the feeling to disappear into nothing as he reached the entrance to the kitchen.

 

    The world was clearly not on his side.

 

    With a desperate sounding gasp, Will cupped both hands over his nose and mouth, body jackknifed forward until his head almost touched his knees. “EchsShoo! EcshShoo! Escshoo! Eschoo! Eschoo!” Will let out a shuddering breath, eyes watering, before crashing down once more, nose flooding behind his hands. “Echs’Sh’Shoo!” The final sneeze came out in almost three separate syllables that scraped against his already sore throat. If he hadn’t felt like shit when he first woke up, he certainly did now.

 

    At the sound of the first sneeze, Hannibal turned, sharp eyes locked directly on his lover. His head gave a tiny tilt as he untied his apron from around his waist and hung it on the hook nearby. He switched off the heat from the stove and made his way over, sleeves pushed up even further along his arms as he came to Will’s aid.

 

    “Bless you,” Hannibal offered, accent thickening.

 

    Will blinked his eyes in surprise as though not expecting Hannibal to have heard, no matter how absurd that thought was. He didn’t dare remove his hands, knowing just how productive those sneezes had been. He could feel the wetness against his lower lip and under his nose, threatening to drip more at any moment. Infuriatingly, the itch was still lodged somewhere deep in his sinus cavity and he feared that whatever movement he made would prompt another fit, this one even worse than the others.

 

    Wordlessly, Hannibal wrapped his arm around Will’s waist and forced him to stand upright, body tucked against his as they made the short trek to the sink.

 

    “Dno....dno,” Will begged as Hannibal came behind him and pressed against him, pinning him against the counter. “Dnot id your kidchen.”

 

    “I’m sorry, Will, but I cannot understand you.” Hannibal used his strength to take hold of both of Will’s hands and pull them away from his nose. Will’s biceps flexed and rippled as he twisted in Hannibal’s grasp, a frustrated whimper leaving his lips before he could stop it.

 

    Hannibal gave a sudden heave against Will, effectively snapping his hands down into the stream of the faucet. When had Hannibal even turned it on? Will frowned as he gave in, washing his hands with a generous helping of the hand soap that Hannibal had imported from Italy. His head tipped back as he sniffled, hating the feeling of moisture still on his face. Part of him momentarily considered rubbing his nose dry with his shoulder, though he quickly thought better of it considering that Hannibal was so close, observing him through an unreadable expression.

 

    Will finished washing his hands quickly and dried them on a nearby hand towel before grabbing a wad of napkins nearby and bringing them up to his nose. He turned as far away from Hannibal as possible as he blew, pressure abating considerably with each blow.

 

    It took him much longer than he would’ve liked to finally make himself decent again, and when he had thrown the wilted napkins away, he hurried back to wash his hands, relieved that Hannibal had mercifully taken a few steps back and given him the space that he so desperately desired.

 

    When Will finished he turned around, leaning back against the sink with his arms over his chest to disguise a full body shiver. “Shit, sorry.”

 

    Hannibal regarded him cooly, eyes giving away nothing. “Bless you,” he repeated in case Will hadn’t heard it earlier.

 

    That prompted a forceful smile from Will, though with a quick head shake it vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. “Sorry. I know how you hate sneezing and stuff in your kitchen with your food.” He gave his wrist a flick in the direction of breakfast, unable to stop his nose from wrinkling at the thought.

 

    “Sometimes it cannot be helped,” Hannibal reminded gently. “Now, I’m going to ask you again: how are you feeling?”

 

    “Fine.” Will snapped his mouth shut the moment that he said it, inwardly groaning. After a display like the one that he had just had, fine was the farthest thing that he was. Lying to anyone wasn’t preferred, but with Hannibal, the man could see though him like no one else ever could. He could sense when Will was being truthful and when he was not without fail, succeeding more times than not.

 

    “I know that is not true.” Hannibal raised a hand and tucked a few wayward curls from Will’s brow behind his ear, halting only when Will withdrew due to the touch. “You’re feverish.”

 

    “Am I?”

 

    “Low grade, though a fever is still a fever, Will.”

 

    Will knew that only too well. He didn’t need Hannibal telling him that for him to know just how challenging a fever could be. It took all of his self control not to lash out at Hannibal, to bring up past transgressions despite assuring the older man that he had, in fact, gotten past them. Maybe the fever was effecting him more than he cared to admit.

 

    Will swayed on his feet, a blank look creeping into his eyes before spreading to the rest of him. His jaw went slack as he looked ahead at nothing, head tipped ever so slightly. His breath came in heavy grunts, muscles flexing and relaxing almost in unison with one another.

 

    “Will? Will?”

 

    Hannibal waved his hand in front of Will’s face. When he received no sign of Will reacting to it, he nodded to himself and took Will by the hand, bringing it up to his face to trail light kisses across each knuckle in turn. He then moved to Will’s sweaty palm, tongue trailing against each line. The taste of Will’s fever bathed his tongue; warm, musky, with a tang of sweetness that fevers often brought. The actual illness was quite sour on his tongue, yet the essence of Will without it was pure perfection.

 

    Hannibal said nothing as he dropped Will’s hand down, though kept it tightly in his own grasp. He led Will forward, relieved when the younger man followed without resistance. Hannibal hadn’t expected Will to fight back, not when he was stuck in his own head with Hannibal his only tether to reality.

 

    These episodes didn’t happen nearly as often as they used to, but every now and again when something would trigger them, he would dissociate, mind fading into the obscurity that he so often fought. The sleepwalking may have ceased for the most part, yet these relatively minor episodes seemed to be something that Will may have to deal with for the rest of his life.

 

    Gently, ever so slowly, Hannibal continued to lead Will back to their room, taking extreme care to make sure that Will didn’t trip or run into anything. Will’s weight was rested heavily on Hannibal, so close that Hannibal could hear his congested breathing in his ear. Perhaps he should’ve mentioned to Will a day ago that he could smell the sickness that was beginning to show itself, to prepare the younger man for what may be coming. Alas, he had been content to merely watch instead, intrigued as to what Will’s body would do when faced with an internal assailant that Hannibal couldn’t easily fight off for him.

 

    When they finally reached the bedroom, Hannibal set Will on the side of the bed, frowning to himself when he saw that Will’s nose had started to run again. The FBI agent showed no signs of dealing with it himself, possibly he may have not even been aware of what his body was doing, how it was betraying him in front of a man that he was so tired of showing weakness to. Hannibal never held it against him, though that didn’t mean that Will cared for the way it made him feel to know that Hannibal was caring for him, yet again, in his moment of weakness.

 

    “There we go, my mongoose,” Hannibal whispered against Will’s ear, despite knowing that Will probably couldn’t hear him. He kissed the corner of his temple while reaching back in a quick motion to pluck a tissue from the box on the nightstand. While he much preferred handkerchiefs whenever possible, Will preferred tissues. In this instance when Will’s comfort was top priority, Hannibal decided he could humor Will for the time being.

 

    Hannibal tended to Will’s nose for him, wiping it dry with the lightest of touches. He kept himself just out of the corner of Will’s vision, watching for the first sign of movement or awareness. Will continued to breathe through his own mouth, chest rising and falling, which was the only movement that Hannibal could see.

 

    Once he finished, Hannibal threw the tissues away and shifted back onto the bed beside Will. He crawled back behind him until his fists were pressed against either side of Wills’ spine, adding just the slightest bit of pressure that may be read by Will’s body as discomfort. Fingers splayed, he traced each vertebrae, fingers dipping into the crevices as he counted them all the way to Will’s neck. Heat rose from his skin, making Hannibal just as uncomfortable as he was certain Will was.

 

    Sighing to himself, Hannibal looped his arm around Will’s shoulder and neck, leaning backwards with the smaller man pulled down with him.

 

    Will didn’t fight it as the two of them landed on their sides, heads sinking into their respective pillows. Hannibal waited for Will to stiffen, to instinctively pull away. When that didn’t happen, he lifted his right leg and draped it over Will’s hips, yanking him close. He wrapped his arms around Will’s chest, fingers brushing against the stubble on Will’s face that he couldn’t see from the angle that he was at. The aroma of illness completely washed over Will, overwhelming his usual musk, even the body odor that came through from his armpits or groin. It was a frustrating occurrence for Hannibal, not to be able to detect Will purely on smell, at least not a smell that he associated with the younger man.

 

    Hannibal’s growl of contempt reached Will’s ears and seemed to pull him free from his episode, eyes blinking deliberately as a cough tore free from his lungs, thick and rough.

 

    “Shhh, shhh,” Hannibal whispered in his ear, helping Will sit up so that the prone position didn’t make things worse. “Breathe, my dear Will.”

 

    After a couple seconds, Will managed to calm his enflamed lungs, tears burning in the corners of his eyes as he refused to let them fall. His nose wrinkled as he fought with the result of what his coughing fit had caused, his mouth clamped firmly shut and face scrunched. The itch in his inner ears frustratingly lodged deep while his head weakly flopped from side to side when he realized whatever he needed was out of arm’s reach and he was too tired to ask for it.

 

    To Will’s dismay, strong arms came back around his shoulders and pulled him close. His face was met with Hannibal’s broad chest, pressed so firmly against him that he could hardly shift. An uncomfortable cry climbed out his throat, which did nothing but aggravate his already sensitive nose, pushing it that much closer to an inevitable sneezing fit.

 

    Hannibal’s hands came to stroke the back of Will’s neck, brushing against the shorter hairs on the back of his neck. He said no words, not believing that he needed to, as his actions spoke for themselves.

 

    “Esthc’Shoo!” The first sneeze was highly muffled and ticklish, sending Will into a seemingly never ending cycle of hitching without a hint of relief. He clamped his mouth together firmly, a tiny trickle of air breathed into his nose, and the need to sneeze returned with a vengeance. “EschShoo! EcsHoo! EcshShoo! EschsShoo! Esch’Sh’Shoo!”

 

    When Will’s sneezes gave way to frantic sniffles, Hannibal released his grip on him and allowed the younger man to scramble back to his side of the bed, nose red as he tried to rub it dry with the back of his wrist. “Whadt did you do thadt for,” he complained between sniffs.

 

    “I merely wanted you to relax,” Hannibal replied evenly.

 

    “I’d gross add rude! I’b surprised you did thadt,” Will muttered as he felt something soft being pressed into his left hand. A quick glance confirmed what he already thought that it was. “I dond’t dneed id.”

 

    “Will, I’m afraid I must insist.” Hannibal released the item from his own hand and forced it into Will’s, feeling a flash of satisfaction when Will brought up the cloth handkerchief up to his nose and blew huskily.

 

    It was far from as productive as Will wished it would’ve been, and really all it did was force the stuffiness into the forefront of his sinuses without seeping into the tissue. Will crumpled the handkerchief into a ball and frustratedly gave one more swipe against his nose before he deemed it futile and slammed his hand down on the mattress beside him.

 

    “Gesundheit.”

 

    “How long was I oudt?”

 

    Hannibal had been hoping Will would wait a brief while before demanding an answer to that question. In fact, he would’ve preferred if will forgot that he had dissociated entirely. He could blame it on the fever then, and Will would be none the wiser. Unfortunately, that did not seem to be the case.

 

    “A few minutes....perhaps less.”

 

    “Did I.....?” Will swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Was I violendt?”

 

    Hannibal shook his head as he propped himself up on his elbow, body twisted to face Will. “No, not at all, mylimasis. You just required some direction to pull you back to reality. I’m hoping I was able to provide that for you.”

 

    Will said nothing, jaw tensed as he swallowed. His well defined jaw was what Hannibal fixated on, hunger stirring inside of him as he imagined sinking his teeth into the flesh below, teeth piercing through the cutaneous and subcutaneous sections of Will’s skin until the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. It was a thought that was quickly forgotten when he was confronted with the now coughing Will in front of him.

 

    “Sit up,” Hannibal commanded with a heavy hand rested on Will’s shoulder as he half pulled, half willed the empath into a sitting position. Will crunched forward into his elbow while Hannibal tucked pillows behind him, fluffing them to the desired texture until he was satisfied. He pushed Will back until he was rested against them, chest heaving with each breath even after the fit dissipated.

 

    “Rest. I’ll go see what I can salvage from breakfast.”

 

    Hannibal swung his legs off of the side of the bed and was about to stand when a warm hand clasped around his wrist. His head snapped around, instinct dictating that he lash out at the threat for ever disrespecting him like that again. However, when he met the glassy and wide eyes of Will, his shoulders hunched and the aggression that had surged through his veins faded away.

 

    “Stay,” Will requested. His voice was barely a rasp, congestion surrounding every syllable and if Hannibal didn’t know better, he swore that he could hear a faint southern accent coming from the sick man beside him. It was highly unusual for Will’s native accent to slip through the impenetrable fortress he tried to always project, wishing that no one would ever know of where he came from. Ignorance was something that Will didn’t want to deal with on top of everything else.

 

    Hannibal offered a trying smile. “I really must tend to breakfast if you’d like anything to eat.”

 

    “I dodn’t,” Will replied instantly. “I jusdt wandt you.”

 

    Hannibal’s gaze softened as he let out an exasperated sigh. “Will,” he began.

 

    “Please.”

 

    Hannibal inwardly groaned at how that simple word when spoken by Will always served to melt the impenetrable fortress he often tried to project. He could never say no to Will when he asked like that, especially when it was accompanied by a pathetic sniffle, and although the sound grated on his nerves like never before, he still couldn’t refuse such a simple request.

 

    Will slumped back on his pillows while Hannibal lowered down beside him, body laying prone beside Will, giving him enough space in case he merely wanted the older man’s presence instead of his touch on his fever kissed skin.

 

    To Hannibal’s surprise, Will didn’t hesitate to surge forward and bury himself back against Hannibal’s chest. Dampness spread across his nightshirt, and Hannibal couldn’t tell whether or not it was from Will’s tears or his runny nose. He found himself surprisingly unbothered as he held Will close, leg draped over Will’s to haul him closer, groin pressed hard against Will’s hip. Ordinarily this would’ve been an invitation for more, but Hannibal was well aware to the fact that passionate lovemaking was the last thing that Will’s body felt up to doing.

 

    “Haddibal,” Will began after a moment, voice heavily muffled by both congestion and Hannibal’s shirt.

 

    Hannibal chuckled. “I’ve never quite heard my name pronounced that way. But yes, what do you need?”

 

    After a hefty cough, Will slumped against him. “I dond’t feel so fide.”

 

    “Really? I would have never guessed.”

 

    Will groaned as he raised his hands and stuck them under Hannibal’s shirt, feeling the muscles contract with each breath he took. Hannibal shivered at the coolness of Will’s hands, allowing the younger man to trace his fingers along each well defined abdominal and chest muscle, rising higher and then dropping back down as he explored the expanse of Hannibal’s flesh.

 

    “I had a feeling you were coming down with something. I could smell it on you two days ago,” Hannibal confessed as he breathed in the scent of Will’s shampoo.

 

    “Add you didn’dt say adythig?”

 

    “I did not want to needlessly worry you when I hoped it would be a simple rhinovirus. I believe I may have been mistaken.”

 

    Will sighed heavily and went limp against Hannibal’s body. He said nothing more, only enjoying the feel of Hannibal wrapped around him, protecting him from the outside world as much as possible.

 

    Hannibal knew that he would need to wake Will up soon to do a proper examination and try to coax him into taking some medication. It would no doubt be a struggle as Will was adamant against such treatments, though Hannibal was almost certain that he could make it worth his time, as he could be fairly convincing when he wanted to be.

 

    “Sleep now, my dear Will,” Hannibal whispered, followed by a light kiss on the top of his unruly curls. “And I will be right here beside you when you wake.”

 

    The End

[AntheaHolmes]

This was a delight to read. Very lively and well written. Enjoyed it immensely. Hannibal is such a fascinating character. Will too of course.