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Sickeningly vivid images of skin breaking under the blade of a knife, the blood that follows, the unpreventable searing pain, and the merciless lust for violence flashed in his mind. They plagued Will’s nights and haunted him during the day. The connection and desire to these vile thoughts that were not his left him shaking and disgusted each time. No matter how much he begged for release from the violence, he still had to endure the nauseating slideshow of gore his mind supplied every night. Only was he able to find release when he broke himself free of the prison that sleep trapped him in.
Tonight was not an exception as Will suddenly opened his eyes with a gasp. He grabbed at the sheets below him, knuckles whitening with pure fear. He breathed in deeply, desperate for air as he sat up in bed, mind still reeling from the events of his dreams. He looked at his surroundings, slowly catching up to the moment. He blinked and allowed his focus to zone in on the stunningly full moon, hanging in the sky, just past the curtains.
He watched as the moonlight pooled into the room, casting a subtle glow on everything. It played with the shadows, dramatized them. It washed the color out of the scene before him, taking it for itself and leaving only greyscale behind. The moon created a dreamlike state for him and him alone, a place where he was safe. He stayed like this for a moment, eyes closed, trying his best to breathe slowly, basking in the fleeting feeling of security.
The room’s chill nipped at his body and sent shivers down his spine. It was much cooler than he was used to, yet he could still feel the heat from adrenaline pulsing off of his skin. He instinctively pulled his arms in for warmth, clinging onto himself. There was a thin layer of sweat that coated his body, undoubtedly not helping with the temperature of the room, which left him wanting nothing more than a warm shower and clean clothes.
After a few moments, his heartbeat had finally begun slowing down to a comfortable pace and his breathing began evening out. Usually, he did not react quite this strongly but the dreams loomed closer than usual. He finally let his mind wander, no longer having to focus on calming himself.
He wasn’t where he usually was. This wasn’t his bed or his room, it was Hannibal’s guest room.
The memories of the previous night began slowly flooding back to him. The drive from Wolf Trap, the nervous excitement. Watching Hannibal prep and cook dinner, dining together with intense but friendly conversation. Helping him clean up after. Having a few glasses of wine as they talked until it was well past one in the morning, Will sufficiently tipsy and decidedly rendered unable to drive. Hannibal had been kind enough to offer him a room for the night.
When it was proposed, everything in Will’s mind had been begging for him to say no, despite what he truly wanted. Alarm bells were sounding, guilt and anxiety bubbling over. Worries about the dogs, if he had locked the front door when he left. Luckily there was just enough alcohol in his system for him to accept the offer, although he knew he realistically couldn't have declined even if he genuinely wanted to.
Will was suddenly snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed the door to the bedroom slowly opening, his brain shifting back to high alert. He almost smiled as the door opened wide enough to reveal Hannibal with tousled hair, pajama pants, and a sweater on. He had never seen him in such a domestic— vulnerable— context before. They made eye contact, both of their eyes filled with surprise, somehow not expecting the other to be looking back at them.
They stood like this, silent, for just a moment until Hannibal spoke, “Oh– my apologies. I simply wanted to see if you were alright. I thought I heard you having a nightmare and thought I should check up. Are you feeling alright?”
Will continued to stare back at the other man, completely disarmed by the unexpected interaction. It was suddenly all too much, Hannibal being in the room, the way he asked if he was alright. Was Will ever alright? It was so early in the morning and his mind was usually slower after just waking up. He wanted nothing more than to tell Hannibal that he was fine, but the words kept dying on his tongue.
Will dug the palms of his hands across his eyes in an attempt to get rid of the sleep that was stinging them. Hannibal likely had already seen right through him, but he responded anyway, “Yeah, I’m alright. I’m pretty used to them by now.” With his best attempt at a comforting smile. “Thanks for checking in, though.”
Hannibal opened the door a little wider and stepped into the room, his face staying nonpartisan but kindness swimming in his eyes.
“You do not have to act brave, Will. It is alright if you are upset.” Hannibal offered to the man before him, further disturbing the silence of the night.
At that moment, something in Will broke. He had been trying so hard to keep everything together, desperately putting plaster on the large cracks in his facade. He had so badly wanted to be okay. He had been doing so well at playing the part, but Hannibal’s comment put a sledgehammer through any progress he might have made. He could feel himself crumble, his chest heaving with a hollow sob, self-consciously breaking eye contact.
A blush flooded Will’s cheeks, embarrassment overtaking his body with this almost childish display of emotion. He kept his eyes on the sheets before him, trying to shut down the thoughts rushing through his head. It was okay, he could trust Hannibal. He was allowed to behave and emote however felt comfortable in front of him.
Still, he couldn’t keep it together. Tears were prickling in his eyes which only added to the flood of embarrassment. They kept threatening to spill, but once one finally did, they didn’t stop. He desperately wanted them to stop falling, yet they refused. He let the tears be with the hope that if they went unacknowledged, somehow Hannibal wouldn’t notice. Or at least wouldn’t judge him for it. He so desperately just wanted to be able to regulate his emotions, yet, he sat there, completely breaking in front of Hannibal.
Hannibal froze at the entrance of the room, uncharacteristically stunned by the reaction his comment had derived. It had come from a place of concern and sincerity, he somehow did not realize how it could have been so impactful. The sudden vulnerability displayed by the other man struck Hannibal with an utter need to protect and console. Everything in his being just wanted Will to be okay. Without thinking, he stepped closer to him and paused. Hannibal was suddenly lost, not entirely sure how to correctly approach the situation. He just wanted to do the right thing. Will needed him to do the right thing.
With the sudden movement, Will finally looked back up at him. Hannibal almost smiled and thankfully had half a mind to stop himself. His face was charmingly pink, from crying and what he suspected to be embarrassment as well. His face was slightly puffy and his eyelashes clumped together, wet from the tears. There was an utter beauty he had about him, emotions on display. Hannibal couldn’t help but quietly relish in the sight before him.
He took another step closer, testing the waters. Will allowed him this, trying to figure out what Hannibal’s plan was. Once Hannibal had gotten close enough to the bed, Will scooted back, making a space for him to sit. A silent offering of permission. Hannibal accepted the invitation as he sat on the edge, facing Will, barely taking up any space.
Will finally gave in to the urge to wipe away his tears, now that it was finally unavoidable. A silent comfort overcame him, the bliss after such catharsis of emotions. He no longer had it in him to care.
Neither of them spoke, simply sitting in the moment. Hannibal reached his hand out in the middle between them. An olive branch.
“I’m sorry if I have not made this clear to you before, but I will always be here for you. No matter what you need, I will gladly give it to you. As long as you want it, I will forever be someone that you can come to during an hour of need.” Hannibal spoke professionally, but hints of pure kindness laced his words.
It was so earnest. Will didn’t know what to say. The entire situation left him dazed and confused, he just wanted to say the right thing. He simply nodded, quickly and a little awkwardly. In place of responding, he tentatively reached out for Hannibal’s hand but stopped just a few inches short, self-consciousness straining his movement.
Hannibal held Will’s eyes as his gaze was fixed on Hannibal’s hand before him. Will was profoundly grateful that the other man simply allowed a space for him to do whatever felt comfortable at the moment. It came with a certain feeling of liberation.
Will took a deep breath and surged his hand forward until their fingertips just brushed against one another. His skin jumped where they connected, but Hannibal seemed completely unaffected. He pushed their palms flat together, interlacing their fingers. Hannibal’s hand was so warm, providing such comfort in contrast to the chilled room.
Will let himself openly stare, processing the moment for what it simply was. The gesture was so much more than he could even attempt at putting into words. He trusted that Hannibal could feel the weight of it too and understood what it truly meant to him. The feeling of Hannibal’s skin scrambled his brain, quieting the rest of the world.
“Thank you, Hannibal.” He finally said softly.
“Of course. Is there anything at all that you need?” Hannibal offered, matching his softness.
Will simply shook his head as he shifted closer to the man sitting on the edge of the bed. He slowly slid his hand out of Hannibal’s, moving it up toward his wrist to get a better grip and pull him in closer. It was light, more of a suggestion than anything else, one which Hannibal gracefully took as he moved towards Will. Still, Will held his gaze until he physically couldn’t any longer, as he leaned in until they made contact, chest against chest.
Hannibal lifted his arms to embrace Will, shielding him from the rest of the world. His hands were placed on either side of Will’s back, his hands tentatively ghosting his skin, unwilling to make the wrong move. With a long exhale, he could feel the other man simply melt under the contact. It was likely the first time he had been comforted in years. With this thought, Hannibal pressed his hands closer, holding him comfortably tight.
Will’s head rested in the crook of Hannibal’s neck. As he breathed in deeply in an attempt to further calm himself down, he couldn’t help but notice how nice Hannibal smelled. He smelled so expensive, an intriguing blend of scents he couldn’t quite place but were hauntingly familiar. Still under all of that was just simply Hannibal, a scent that overtook his brain and left him weak.
His head was drowning in thoughts. The loudness and commotion of each one made them all blend together, with no thought intelligible from any of the others. In the chaotic hum, there was a peaceful sort of quiet to be found. His tears were spent. He no longer had anything to hide from the other man, already having been stripped bare.
He could now take the time to appreciate the moment for what it was. Take a moment to process that he was in Hannibal’s arms. Bask in the fact that the other man was so eager to comfort him. Come to terms with how he was so eager to be comforted. He let all these revelations wash over him as he buried himself deeper into Hannibal’s grasp.
Hannibal only responded by holding him closer.
They sat like this for several long minutes, unwilling to let go of the other until Will’s back began to ache and Hannibal’s neck began to creak. Finally, Will pulled out of Hanibal’s arms so he was facing the other man.
“It’s so late,” Will began. “I don’t want to keep you from sleeping.”
Hannibal looked at him with saddened but understanding eyes, nodding once. Will squeezed his wrist, hoping to catch his attention again.
“You don’t have to leave. If you don’t want to.” Will offered apprehensively. This was all so far outside his comfort zone or realm of experience.
Hannibal smiled softly and a small part of Will broke at the purity of it. “Of course, I would love to stay.”
Will offered back a similar smile. He shifted over so Hannibal could have a place to lie down next to him, but Hannibal only got up. He moved closer to the headboard and sat at the top, shifting his legs where they were on each side of Will. His back pressed up against the headboard, using one of the pillows as a cushion. A delicate but instructive hand then guided Will back, where his back was against Hannibal’s chest. Will shifted into a slightly more comfortable position as Hannibal raised his hands to hold him close.
With the feeling of being in Hannibal’s arms came an indescribable sense of relief. He melted into the touch of the other man. The tension held in each of his muscles released, completely surrendering his body over to the sensation. He couldn’t remember the last time he had ever felt like this, if he ever had to begin with. He was in such utter harmony.
He drank in the feeling of his hands clasped around him, resting just above his stomach. Drank in the radiating warmth that came from Hannibal’s chest and stomach pressed against his back that in turn warmed his entire body, allowing his heart to absolutely glow. Drank in the feeling of Hannibal breathing, the hypnotic rise and fall that came with each breath. He couldn’t get enough of any of it, so desperate for it to never end.
He pressed his head into Hannibal’s neck, an attempt at closing any gap that may be between them. He could feel the reverberations deep in Hannibal’s chest as he kindly laughed and mirrored Will’s actions, pressing closer to where Will’s head pushed. The gesture was similar to squeezing someone's hand, just to show that you’re there for them.
Hannibal’s head was so close to Will’s and on a whim, he shifted slightly and kissed the crown of his head. It was soft and gentle with a hint of shyness. A clear display of care. His nose was buried into Will's curls, and he was overwhelmed with the smell that met him; it couldn’t be described as anything other than purely Will. He would gladly get drunk off it alone if he could.
Will hummed with surprise at this action, mindlessly hoping he would do it again.
“How are you feeling Will?” Hannibal asked, slightly muffled.
Will couldn’t help but smile at the question. He didn’t know if he could bottle up the pure happiness he felt at this moment. Even if he could, he wouldn’t. He wouldn't want words to ruin it, they could never begin to do him justice.
So instead he offered, “You’re perfect. Everything is simply perfect. Thank you for giving that to me, Hannibal.” It was so quiet, the admission had been so quiet. He was afraid if he said it too loud, it wouldn’t mean as much. He needed Hannibal to know the sincerity that came behind each word.
Instead of responding, Hannibal just kissed his head again. It was much slower this time, less tentative. He let himself linger, drinking in the warmth of the other man. A soft whimper escaped from Will, who was completely powerless to stop it. It caught both of them slightly off guard. A subtle blush rose on Will’s cheeks as he could feel a small smile form on Hannibal’s lips, still pressed close to his head.
“I am glad you feel that way, feel comfortable. I would want nothing more, it makes me delighted to know that you can find such solace in my presence.” He murmured into his curls.
“I don’t think anyone else could make me feel this way. It is unique to you alone. Only you could have this kind of power over me. I wouldn’t want anyone else to have it.” Will admitted quietly into the open room, still swimming in moonlight. There was something about the cover of night that WIll could not seem to get over. He relished in the safety it brought, he didn’t think he would be brave enough to say this to the sun. Thankfully, the moon was kind enough to be out tonight.
“Then I am glad that you trust me with it. I will forever honor and worship this gift you have been so kind as to bestow upon me.” Hannibal responded, voice slow and intoxicated with adoration. Sleep from earlier in the night still laced Hannibal’s voice and thickened his accent.
Will only hummed in response, eyelids heavy with exhaustion. He shifted into Hannibal’s body, getting ready to give in to the sleep that was threatening his consciousness. Hannibal sensed this, allowing the other man rest. The blatant display of complete trust from Will was prominent in Hannibal’s mind and left him smiling.
He simply held Will a little tighter, moving one of his hands from where they were lying upward toward Will’s chest. He moved his open palm across the other man’s sternum, applying a comfortable amount of pressure. Just enough to relieve the last traces of anxiety and lull him into an unexpectedly peaceful sleep. He hoped that by doing this, it would allow for sleep to release Will from the pressures of the world and leave him undisturbed from his own mind.
He could feel Will give in, surrendering into sleep as his breathing evened and muscles relaxed further. Hannibal continued the motion, silently loving the feeling of contact between his hand and Will’s chest. He truly couldn’t have dreamed of anything better.
Finally, his hand stilled, still placed on Will’s chest as sleep overtook him. The pressure and warmth from the body above him paired with the late hour was too much for him. He was pulled under with pure love humming throughout his body, mind relishing in the events of the evening.
They slept, covered by the trusting love of the moonlight until the familiar brightness of the sun filled the room and left them basking in gold.