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Hannibal noticed a pattern of behavior in Will Graham. He was closed off to most people. That included when people compliment him. At most, he would say thanks. Then again, he tended to only be complimented based on his work with the FBI or his empathy disorder. The things that brought him the most pain in life.
When Hannibal complimented him, however, he would blush and look away. The blush was light pink and barely noticeable to someone not looking. Hannibal, however, was always looking at Will, and this reaction intrigued him. So, he would compliment him more. Not to the point that someone would get suspicions, but at least once a day that he saw him. One day his eyes looked particularly bright blue. Another day, he liked his shirt or his shoes. He liked the way he styled his hair. He was impressed with the way he solved a case. He liked Will’s sense of humor or his smile.
He did not think that Will ever picked up on the frequency of the compliments. All he did was thank Hannibal and sometimes complimented him back. That made Hannibal’s heart soar.
For a while, Will was mad at him after he realized what he was. He was more angry about the way that Hannibal hurt him (worsening his encephalitis and framing him for murders he did not do) than the fact that he was a killer. Hannibal swore to himself that he would somehow make it up to Will. They would leave, escape Jack Crawford and the FBI. They would build a life somewhere else and Will would begin to trust him again.
Now, he was slowly coming around. He started therapy again, and said that he no longer wanted to kill him. He brought him Freddie Lounds to cook. They shared a smile over her. Hannibal was thankful that Will allowed him back into his life so quickly. He knew that Will could never leave permanently (nor could he), but he could have left indefinitely.
“You have a gorgeous smile, Will,” Hannibal said. He had not complimented him in that way for a while. Not since he was in prison, and Will told him to ‘shut the fuck up’ with a snarl. Like an animal that had been hit one too many times.
This time, Will’s cheekbones dusted a light pink. He looked down at the meal. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Yours is nice too.”
Hannibal smiled brighter, practically feeling their relationship healing.
…
Will hated bad sensory days. Before he developed encephalitis, they were few and far between. When he had encephalitis, he had more bad sensory days than good. Like when he was a little kid and his hair was painful on the back of his neck which caused most days to be bad sensory days.
Once he got the treatment that he should have gotten well before then, (thanks, Hannibal) his sensory sensitivities subsided to a normal degree. He had not had a bad sensory day since he got out of prison. His issues remained on the downlow.
That was, until he woke up one Thursday. Everything was off. His contacts burned his eyes, so he had to go back to his glasses for the day. All of his nice clothes felt like they were trying to tear off his skin. He turned to his only pair of dress pants that did not normally aggravate his sensory issues. They still felt too tight and scratchy, but it was bearable. He wore a tank top under a black button down so he did not feel the buttons. The collar felt like it was choking him no matter how low he unbuttoned them. His jacket felt heavy, but he did not have a choice but to wear it. There was snow on the ground, he would get too many raised eyebrows than he wanted to deal with.
He wanted to call out. He had before when he felt like this, but he could not. Jack had finally decided to get good at his job, and now suspects Hannibal as the Chesapeake Ripper. He had to keep Jack off his trail the best he could. Why he was doing this, he did not know. He stupidly liked the man for whatever reason. Fuck him.
Both of them.
Will’s day did not get any better. Teaching was alright. He went through the motions well enough. Then, Jack came in. His days always got worse with Jack. They had the same argument they had been having for months. Jack tried to get Will to get on board with getting evidence that Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper.
“Jack, there is simply no evidence. I can’t spawn evidence out of nowhere,” Will said. “And you know how much time I’ve spent with Dr. Lecter, I think I would’ve gotten some sort of sense about him before now.”
“Maybe that’s the problem, you spend too much time around him,” Jack said, practically digging his finger into his chest.
Will stepped back, very much not wanting to be touched. Especially not by Jack. “So, what do you want me to do? Stop spending time with one of the only people I’ve ever considered a friend.”
“I thought you said that the light of friendship won’t reach you for a thousand years or something like that,” Jack said.
“I’m not even gonna ask how you heard that,” Will said. “But I was angry because I knew I was being framed. I was taking it out on the easiest person because I knew that Dr. Lecter would forgive me.”
Their argument continued as it had multiple times before. Jack raised his voice, Will took it like a whipping post. Eventually, Jack grew bored when Will did not respond. He could not, Jack’s loud voice made his brain feel like his brain was filled with cotton balls. He could not respond if he wanted to.
Jack sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “At least you’ll make yourself useful with the presentation.”
“What presentation are you talking about?” Will asked.
“Did you forget? I told you about it two weeks ago.”
“No you didn’t,” Will said, scanning the man for a moment. “You’re punishing me because I won’t help you fabricate evidence against Dr. Lecter. Ya’know how unethical that is?”
“I can’t help you forget.”
“I suppose not,” Will said, picking up his briefcase to leave. “But I gotta tell you, Jack, punishment’s never worked on me.”
…
The presentation was not too bad, though it did make his anxiety nearly overflow. The worst part was the flashing cameras that blinded him every few seconds. He was able to ignore it for the most part until he was in his car.
Once in his car, Will felt the need to rip his skin off. It burned like it was on fire. His bones felt too big for his skin. He knew that he was quickly headed toward a meltdown. He had not had one in years (he is not counting the ones he had during encephalitis). Normally, he was good about avoiding them. Now, he pushed himself too far and could not.
Hannibal. That was the only person to possibly help him. So, he turned on his car and rushed his way to Hannibal’s office.
…
Will barged into Hannibal’s office like he had done so many times before. He threw his bag and jacket on the floor and started to pace.
Hannibal, who had calmly been writing notes, slowly turned to see Will in a state that he had not seen him since his encephalitis. He had an agitated look on his face as he paced up and down his office. Hannibal allowed him to pace for a few moments. He slowly closed his book, put it in his desk, and turned to observe Will.
“Staring’s rude,” Will grumbled when he stopped pacing, scratching at his forearm. His nails left long red lines on his pale skin. How long would it take for him to draw blood? With how agitated he was, would he notice or would Hannibal have to point it out. Will would have to allow him to bandage his arms. Much like he did his hands after he killed Randall Tier.
“It is also rude to intrude on another’s space, and to throw your things around,” Hannibal responded.
“Eat me,” Will bit out. He began pacing again.
“Perhaps one day.” Hannibal stood. He waited for Will to get close before putting his hands on his shoulders. Will stopped and held his breath for a moment. Hannibal felt Will’s tense shoulders under his hands. They were shaking. Will’s breath was ragged and short. He refused to look Hannibal in the eyes even as he tried. Hannibal felt his forehead. It was sweaty but there was no fever, so he was not relapsing.
Will bat Hannibal’s hand away from his forehead. Hannibal’s touch on his shoulders was okay. The touch was separated by several layers of clothes. Skin to skin contact was too much at the moment. It felt like nails were being stabbed into his head.
“Not today, though,” Hannibal continued, dropping the hand that Will brushed off. “Now, I’m more concerned about what’s going on.”
Will opened his mouth to try and explain, but his voice did not work. He felt his vocal cords seize in his throat, not allowing air to pass through. Great, he was at the non-speaking part of the meltdown. He comforted himself that the meltdown would be over soon and at least he was only making a fool of himself in front of Hannibal.
Hannibal had seen worse.
“Is it anxiety?” Hannibal asked.
Will shook his head aggressively, pushing Hannibal away to start to pace again. He had to move. He had to get this feeling off of him. Deliberately he brought his hand to his arm to claw at it again. The pain helped ground him. Made him feel like he was in his body. Tears entered his eyes.
“A meltdown.”
Will nodded.
A speck of blood trickled out from beneath Will’s skin. Hannibal licked his lips, wondering for a moment how long he could let this go on before Will would be mad at him again. Will came to him during a meltdown, trusting Hannibal to help him. He had already broken Will’s trust in so many ways. He needed to rebuild it.
Hannibal stepped in front of Will, causing the man to stop and look up. He did not meet his eyes. Hannibal grabbed the man's arms before he could turn and walk away. Will growled in the back of his throat, his face contorting into a scowl. He attempted to take his arms back, leaning back.
“No, Will. I cannot allow you to scratch yourself,” Hannibal said in a gentle tone.
Will immediately lashed out, attempting to kick Hannibal’s shin before he thought better of it. He still made contact, but it was not hard. Hardly a tap. Will groaned, tugging his arms down. He just wanted to be free.
“I will let you go if you promise not to scratch yourself again,” Hannibal said, not knowing if Will could process what he was saying at the moment.
Thankfully, he did and he nodded. He would not scratch himself anymore if Hannibal would get the fuck off of him.
“Thank you,” Hannibal said. He released Will’s arms and took a step back. Will hugged himself tightly around his middle. The deep pressure did not help as much as the pain, but it helped a little bit.
Will’s legs felt like jelly. He sat down on the floor with his back flush with the back of his chair. His knees instantly came to his chest and he held them. He rocked back and forth slowly to soothe his nervous system. His own humming reached his ears, not able to be controlled.
Hannibal watched him. Now that he was not hurting himself, he knew that Will would have to ride the meltdown out, and that he would likely not be appreciative of any intervention. He would have to stand by calmly until Will was ready to come back to him.
It was slow, the humming decreased in both pitch and intensity. His rocks slowed until he completely stilled. It took a few moments for Will to show his face. He looked ready to burst into tears, but there were no tears in his eyes. Then, he unraveled his body, his legs splayed out in front of him and his arms to his side. His body totally relaxed- exhausted.
“S-sorry, Hannibal,” Will apologized breathlessly. His vocal cords still felt tight, but he could talk.
As soon as he was acknowledged, Hannibal stood and walked over. It did not look like Will was going to leave the floor anytime soon. That was okay with Hannibal. It would not be the first time that they had a conversation from the floor. Hannibal sat beside Will.
“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for,” Hannibal said, “you cannot control a meltdown.”
“I know,” Will said, covering his face, putting pressure on his eyes. “I haven’t had one in a really long time. Not since college.”
“Do you know what triggered this?” Hannibal asked.
“Bad sensory day,” Will answered. “Does happen too often. Usually, I call out of work. Couldn’t today.”
“Why not?”
“‘cause I’m tryin’ to keep Jack off your tail,” Will answered.
Hannibal knew about that. He was not sure exactly why Will was working so hard to protect him from the FBI (he imagined that Will also did not know why) but he was appreciative. Still, “you should not put yourself at risk for me.”
Will scoffed, hugging himself again. His bones felt loose under his skin. “I’ve been at risk since I’ve met you. A meltdown is the least of my worries.”
“What do you worry about more?”
Will refused to answer though his mind ran with what he was worried about. Hannibal going to jail and not being in his life. Jack getting suspicious of him. What it meant about him that he wanted to protect Hannibal so bad.
“Many times, after a meltdown deep pressure therapy can help,” Hannibal suggested.
Although his brain was foggy, he knew what Hannibal wanted. It was no secret that the other man liked to touch him. Constantly brushing his hands and putting his hands on his shoulders. “You just want to hold me.”
“Do you not want that?” Hannibal asked, indicating to his posture.
Will nodded before quickly shaking his head. He did want that. Typically, Hannibal’s touch comforted him. Now, it made him nervous. He was already vulnerable in front of Hannibal for far too long. All he could think about was what happened last time. It sent a spike of ice cold panic through him.
“I believe you do,” Hannibal continued. “Why won’t you let me?” Tiny push after tiny push. Break down Will’s defenses again. This time not to hurt, but to build him back up.
“Don’t you trust me?”
Now, Will looked at Hannibal with a hurt expression. “I want to. I feel stupid because I want to, but I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“‘cause you hurt me, Hannibal. You have to understand that.”
“I do,” Hannibal said, reaching out to touch Will’s knee. Will did not flinch or try to pull back. “But would you allow me to show you that you can trust me now?”
Will sighed. He was stupid. He was so fucking stupid. He nodded.
“Would it be alright if we go to the chaise?” Hannibal asked, holding out his hand.
Will nodded, taking Hannibal’s offered hand. Hannibal helped him stand up and Will allowed himself to be led to the chaise. Hannibal sat with his legs out in front of him.
Will had never sat in anyone’s lap. Not as an adult anyway. So, he gingerly lowered himself down. Hannibal was amused by Will's awkwardness. Deciding to take charge, Hannibal grabbed him from around the waist and pulled him closer to his chest. Will tensed, once again raising his knees to his chest.
“Shh, relax Darling,” Hannibal whispered, wrapping his arms around Will snuggly, causing the man to sigh and relax slightly. Hannibal could still feel how tight Will’s muscles were. He did not want them tight, so he slowly began to rub up and down his back. That also did not help. Without thinking, Hannibal said “you look beautiful like this.”
As he always did at Hannibal compliments, Will blushed light pink. Hannibal wanted to experiment. What would happen if he kept the compliments coming. Would Will melt or push him away. He wanted to find out.
“So beautiful,” Hannibal said as if in a trance. He put a hand on the back of Will’s neck as his other came up to brush through his hair. “I’ve always loved your curls. They are deceptive. They frame your mind, which is often so dark, in an angelic halo.”
Will’s blush deepened, now a darker pink and bleeding down his cheeks. He did nothing to try and stop the onslaught, so Hannibal continued. He traced down his face, not leaving a feature untouched. Down he continued, stopping at his shoulders. “It is impressive the weight these can take. Wouldn't it be nice to let that go every now and again."
Now, his blush was bright red running to the tips of his ears and down his neck, disappearing down his collar. He squirmed. For the first time, he answered a compliment and nodded.
“Then allow me to take it,” Hannibal said.
Hannibal rubbed Will’s back for a few moments, allowing Will a slight reprieve. Will was still tense against him, but this was more due to the embarrassment than the act of Hannibal touching him. As the compliments eased, Will relaxed more until he was practically melted to Hannibal’s chest. One with him.
“Oh, Darling, I hope you do not think we are done,” Hannibal said with a smirk. His voice was teasing, causing Will to groan and squirm again. He did not try and push away, so Hannibal took that as permission to continue.
He gave a few more compliments in the same tone he had before. Gentle and mesmerized. Eventually, his hand came to rest on Will’s thigh. “Mind and body, Will, you’re like a work of art.”
Will had been squirming for a while now. Small twitchy movements that he could not control. This time, however, he bucked his hips towards Hannibal's hand.
“Oh,” Hannibal said as if surprised. Sexual exploration was not his motivation when he started this, but he knew that it was not outside the realm of possibility. “Is that what you want, Will?”
Will was mortified by the question. He did want that. He could feel his sex throbbing, and he just wanted it all to stop. For it all to go away, but at the same time he never wanted this to end. He covered his warm face with shaking hands.
“No, don’t hide,” Hannibal chastised softly. “I want to see your face.”
“See my face enough,” Will muttered behind his hands. He should have stopped there, but Will never knew when to stop, so he continued “should be sick of it by now.”
“I could never grow sick of seeing your face,” Hannibal said. “Even as it grows old and weather beaten, I will want to see it everyday. So, please, uncover it so I may look more.”
Will hesitantly uncovered his face peeking up at Hannibal. He hated how well put together Hannibal still looked with that smug look of satisfaction on his face. Meanwhile, he felt like he was going to implode. He wondered if their roles could ever be reversed. He was sure that they could. He could make Hannibal a mess if he wanted to. One day, he would.
“You still have not answered my question, Will,” Hannibal said, as he moved his hands closer to the space in-between Will’s legs. “Is this what you want?”
Will nodded, throat suddenly feeling too tight again. He dropped the eye contact in favor of looking at Hannibal’s hand. He was close. A couple of inches and he would be there.
“I need words, Darling,” Hannibal said.
When Will stubbornly did not say anything, Hannibal detached his hand only to place it again on Will’s back.
“It’s okay if you don’t, Darling. We can just stay like this until you want to part,” Hannibal said. His words were not lies. If Will never wanted them to explore their relationship in this way, he would not force it. He might be a monster, but he was not that type of monster. He, however, knew that Will wanted this. The words were just another way to break down Will’s defenses.
“Yes,” Will said after a few seconds of Hannibal scratching his back. The touch was not harsh or cruel, but it felt like it was leaving a fiery trail up and down his spine. It was not unpleasant, but it was not the way that Will wanted to be touched. He threw in a “please” for good measure. It might help him get his way.
“Yes please what, Will,” Hannibal said as if he did not know.
Fucking bastard. “Just touch me,” Will said, his tone turning demanding.
“I am touching you, Darling,” Hannibal said, squeezing the back of Will's neck and scratching harder down his spine. “Is there anywhere specific you want me to touch?”
“Fuck, Hannibal, you know what I mean,” Will said, leaning back so his head was no longer on Hannibal’s shoulder. He could not meet Hannibal’s eyes as he said, “touch me down there, please, and don’t make me say it.”
Hannibal wanted to keep playing dumb and see how far he could push his luck before Will was off his lap. Will, however, developed a desperation to his tone. He needed this. After his day, who was Hannibal to deny him.
“Alright, Will, I know what you mean,” Hannibal said, the hand that had been comfortably resting on the back of Will’s neck came up to cup the back of his head. He eased Will back down onto his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need.”
Will sighed in relief, his hot breath landing on Hannibal’s neck. He could bite, Will thought. He knew that Hannibal would not protest, but he did not want to push his luck too far. Not tonight. Honestly, he was enjoying how gently Hannibal was handling him. He did not want it to turn rough. Maybe another day, but not tonight.
Hannibal unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. “Sit up straighter.”
Will obeyed, squirming until he was sitting straighter and his legs were spread. He refused to lift his head from its place on Hannibal’s shoulder. Thankfully, Hannibal did not seem to mind. He might die if he wanted him to look.
“Good boy,” Hannibal praised as he stuck his hand into Will’s pants. He teased him through his boxers for a few seconds. Will gasped against his neck. His arm came up to grasp at his tie. He tugged, obviously wanting his attention.
“Would you like a kiss?” Hannibal asked with a smirk, looking down at the man. His lips mere inches from Will’s
“Yes,” Will breathed.
“Yes what?”
Fuck you, Hannibal. “Yes, please.”
Hannibal rewarded the man by connecting his lips with his. Will went slack against him. The kiss was soft and sweet but desperate still. While their lips were still connected, Hannibal shoved his hand into Will’s boxers.
“Fuck,” Will whined when Hannibal’s hand caused an electric shook to go through his entire body.
“Language, Dear,” Hannibal scolded just to see what Will would do.
It was no surprise to Hannibal when the man repeated the word. As a consequence, Hannibal simultaneously rubbed Will’s clit harder and tugged the hair on the back of his neck hard. Will moaned at the pain mixed with pleasure as his head was forced back into an uncomfortable position. Hannibal nipped at his neck, causing him to whimper.
It did not take long for Will to miss the security of Hannibal’s neck and the gentle touches. Will whimpered in protest, shaking his head in an attempt to dislodge the hand. It did not work. If anything, Hannibal held on tighter, forcing his neck back more and causing more pain.
“S-sorry, sorry, sorry,” Will muttered in an attempt to get back in Hannibal’s good graces.
“Sorry what?” Hannibal asked.
Will groaned, Hannibal was a big fan of making him use words when he really did not want to. Will hated it. “Sorry, sorry f-for bad language.”
Finally, Hannibal released the back of his head, allowing Will to bury his face into his shoulder with a shaky sigh. Both arms came up to hold onto Hannibal. One around him and the other clinging to his suit jacket for dear life.
Hannibal continued the rougher message on Will’s clit. It did not feel bad (none of this did, not even the hair pulling), but it was not what Will wanted. He grasped Hannibal's wrist and pushed it back.
Hannibal instantly froze at the protest, thinking that he had taken this too far. “Do you want to stop, Will?” Hannibal asked. Then assured “It’s okay if you do.”
“No,” Will groaned, trying to fish for the words that he needed. His brain was starting to feel muggy between the post-meltdown haze and Hannibal. “I don’t wanna stop. Just… just be easy.”
Hannibal chuckled at the request, resting his free hand against the back of Will’s neck. “Of course, Darling, I can be gentle with you.”
Will sighed in relief, moaning when Hannibal started to stroke him again slower and less firm than before. It was driving him absolutely crazy in the best way. Will rolled his hip uncontrollably with Hannibal’s hand. It would not take him long. It had been a long time since anybody (including himself) had touched him like this. Too long.
Hannibal kissed the top of Will’s forehead. He continued rubbing with his thumb as his middle two fingers traveled further down to Will’s opening. He teased the wet area for a moment, knowing that if Will had any protests he would either push him away or verbalize them. No such protests came. Will simply groaned, his hips bucking up to invite him in.
Will let out a gasp that turned into a moan when Hannibal easily found his G-spot. He was already close. Really, really close.
“F-faster,” Will gasped.
Hannibal happily obliged, applying slightly firmer pressure against both egregious zones and increasing the speed.
“So good,” Hannibal spoke for the first time in the last few minutes. “Beautiful. You are so beautiful like this.”
“Fu- uh- H-Hannibal,” Will said, nearly cursing again. He did not want Hannibal to do anything but what he was currently doing, so he corrected himself. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna…” he could not finish. His lower belly felt like it was on fire.
“That’s it, you are so perfect,” Hannibal began when Will trailed off. He wanted to see Will fall apart in his arms. “So perfect for me. That’s right, cum for me.”
Will let out a sound that was in-between a sob and moan and his body shook with the force of overwhelming pleasure. He rutted against Hannibal’s fingers, biting his hand so he would not yell. The pain was dulled, not enough to be registered through everything else his body was going through.
Hannibal rubbed him through his orgasm and beyond until Will’s whimpers of pleasure became those of protest. He pushed against his hand, muttering “okay, okay, okay, okay” against the hand still covering his mouth. Hannibal instantly retracted his hand, grabbing his handkerchief out of his breast pocket to wipe his hand off. He then held the man tight against him. All the while, Will continued to shake, loose and boneless in his post-orgasm haze.
Will was the first to speak, “y-you have a problem.”
Hannibal was about to ask why he made that observation until Will pressed his hand against his hard cock that was still in his pants. Hannibal bit the inside of his lip to keep any noises at bay.
“I could reciprocate.”
“As lovely as that offer is, it is unnecessary,” Hannibal told him. He did not want to overwhelm Will. After all, this had all started because Hannibal wanted to comfort him after a meltdown. This was all about Will. Hannibal’s needs could wait.
They stayed like this for a long moment, until Hannibal noticed that Will was squirming against him again. For a moment, Hannibal thought that Will might be ready to get up. He had been like this for a long time, so it was not unreasonable to think that he was uncomfortable. Hannibal was about to suggest that they go back to his house. He doubted that Will had eaten before he came in. He could make something that Will would find palatable and easy when he was overwhelmed. That was, until he looked down and realized that Will was pinching his bare arms hard enough to leave instant bruises.
Hannibal, just as gentle as he had been all night, took the hand that Will was assaulting himself with in his own. He interlocked their fingers as he asked “why, Darling.”
“It’s stupid,” Will muttered. He had not been thinking when he started pinching himself. All he could think about was what he needed.
“You really need to stop using that word to describe yourself and your motivations,” Hannibal said. “You could never be stupid. It is especially not stupid if it’s causing you to feel the need to inflict harm on yourself.”
“It’s not self-harm*,” Will protested.
“Then what is it?”
“I-I need to cry,” Will whispered as if telling his biggest secret, feeling humiliated by admitting that. “I-It’s nothing you did. It’s just… after a breakdown, I need a release. An emotional one.” He felt the need to cry. His eyes burned and his chest ached, but no tears were coming to the surface.
“And pain can trigger an emotional release,” Hannibal said. “In a way that even pleasure can’t.”
Will nodded.
“I’m sorry, Darling, I cannot allow you to harm yourself,” Hannibal said, holding him tighter when Will huffed.
“Then what do you suggest?” Will asked bitterly, sitting up straighter to look Hannibal in the face. “‘cause unless you want me to have another meltdown then I need to.”
“What if I hit you?” Hannibal suggested.
“So, I’m not allowed to inflict pain on myself, but you’re allowed to inflict pain on me,” Will asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Precisely,” Hannibal whispered, cupping the cheek that he planned on smacking if Will agreed.
Will rolled his eyes. “Predictable.” He sighed but nodded. “Okay, fine. Hit me as hard as you can. Don’t hold back. Please.”
Hannibal pulled back his hand and quickly brought it down. Will flitched and closed his eyes before Hannibal’s hand could reach its destination. Hannibal did not hit him, however, just patted his cheek.
“What the hell?” Will said, anger flooding his chest. Fucking bastard. He was a sadist and Will was giving him the perfect opportunity to hurt him, but he would not. The need to cry became stronger, almost crushing him. Real tears still eluded him.
“I must apologize first,” Hannibal said with so much care in his tone that it would have been heartbreaking if Will was not pissed off. “This is really going to hurt.
Will rolled his eyes, “Yeah, that’s the whole point.”
Hannibal smirked. “Close your eyes.”
Will complied.
“On three. One, two…” Hannibal drew his hand back again. Like he promised, he did not hold back. The sound of the slap reverberated in the otherwise quiet room. Will’s head snapped to one side. For a moment, he did not react, blinded by the throbbing pain. He reached up to touch his now bright red cheek. It would undoubtedly bruise. Will’s lower lip trembled as tears finally clouded his vision. He sobbed, instantly holding onto Hannibal- his rock during his torment of emotions.
“Oh, Darling,” Hannibal said, sounding much too pleased with himself. He rubbed Will’s back and held the back of his head as he gently rocked from side to side “I know, I know. That hurt, didn’t it,” Hannibal cooed in a patronizing tone. Will did not care about Hannibal’s tone at the moment. As long as he kept letting him get his shirt wet and kept rubbing his back everything would be okay.
“Y-You didn’t say three,” Will said with a sob.
Hannibal chuckled. “Is that what has you so upset?”
“Hurts,” Will sniffled, still holding his sore cheek.
“That was the whole point,” Hannibal used Will’s own words against him. If Will had more wits about him, he would have hit Hannibal back. Knowing him, he would have liked it too much. Instead, he continued to wordlessly cry against Hannibal’s shoulder.
Eventually, Will’s sobs died down to softer cries until they were nothing but sniffles.
“Sorry,” Will suddenly apologized.
“Whatever for?”
“Got your shirt all wet,” Will sniffled, sitting up on his own. He wiped away the leftover tears on his face, feeling at ease in his own body again.
“Nothing a washing can’t fix,” Hannibal said. He traced the line of his own handprint, causing Will to hiss at the pain. He did not try to move back. “If you ever need to cry, I will happily do this again.”
“You’re a sadist, of course you would,” Will grumbled.
“It’s also nice, being able to hold you as you cry,” Hannibal said.
“Yeah, only ‘cause you’re the one that made me cry.”
“Exactly,” Hannibal said.
Will, not having the energy for such a conversation at the moment, simply leaned against the dry side of Hannibal’s chest. Hannibal allowed him.
“We will move whenever you are ready, Darling Boy.”