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Hannibal’s hair got long and completely silver somewhere along the way, he didn’t want to cut it, Will was all too happy with this decision. He loves touching it, loves carding his fingers through the silky strands tenderly and humming random songs that get stuck in his head, he loves gripping it tightly while he moans helplessly and struggles to take a full breath. Will loves watching Hannibal’s hair when the sun pets it playfully, tickles his stubble and scratches Hannibal’s nose.
Will is doing exactly this right now, he’s watching from the porch as Hannibal stands in their garden barefoot, wiggling his toes in the rich warm soil and smiling blissfully at the sky with his eyes closed. Will knows that soon Hannibal is going to get uncomfortable with his feet being dirty and wince almost imperceptibly, this little scrunch of his nose that Will adores so much, and then Will is going to guide him to the bathroom, sit him down and wash him. He’s going to help him put his shoes on and kiss him for not being difficult and not fighting Will on this. Hannibal came to terms with relying on Will for this sort of thing a long time ago but kissing him feels nice, so Will isn’t going to stop now, or ever.
++
Hannibal’s stomach bothers him only sometimes these days but it still happens. He was the first one to heal his fractured forearm and his torn ligament, his bruises faded quicker than Will’s and so Hannibal was the one to change their bandages, run around the house, clean, cook and spoon-feed Will. Will didn’t like it, he felt that something was off and it wasn’t his habitual aversion to being taken care of; it was something about Hannibal’s frame, something about his jaw, sharper than usual, and his eyes shone brighter, madder.
“I enjoy providing for you, Will,” Hannibal said when Will asked him about it. He leaned forward to place a plate on the bedside table and a corner of his mouth contorted.
Will frowned as he stared at that twitch transform into a smile. It wasn’t right, Hannibal didn’t want to smile, his face was pale and his temples were sweating.
“Hannibal, will you tell me if something is wrong?”
That next smile was real, but it wasn’t kind, and Will was so weak and so exhausted and so pained that he could only eat his soup and fall asleep immediately after.
++
Tangible evidence that his uneasiness wasn’t baseless presented itself several days later. He walked into their kitchen for the first time since they’d arrived at the house because he heard a loud crash and saw Hannibal wiping the counters frantically, the air smelled nauseatingly of bleach. There was nothing on the floor that could have dropped and shattered however.
“Are you alright?” he questioned.
Hannibal jumped and turned around to face him.
“When did you get here?”
“A second ago,” Will said. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, good, everything is good,” Hannibal replied and wiped his mouth. “Breakfast will ready in a bit, would you like to go back to bed?”
“Uh, no, I think I’d better start moving around a little and eating here, feels more normal like this.”
He walked further into the room and started lowering himself on a chair, it was a short trip but he was out of breath already. He noticed that Hannibal was throwing glanced at him and at the floor near the kitchen cabinets in turns, he looked uncertain, Will would go as far as to think Hannibal looked anxious. Will pointedly stared out the window and in a couple of seconds Hannibal resumed cooking.
The meal was light and tasted delicious, Hannibal barely ate anything. When he turned his back to Will to put the dishes into the sink, Will bent his neck and peered under the cabinets, there were utensils, haphazardly shoved out of view.
++
Hannibal began taking showers an abnormal amount of times per day. Will woke up and water would be running in the bathroom down the hall; after breakfast Hannibal would excuse himself and shut the door behind himself hurriedly, the tap would follow a moment later; they would talk in the afternoon, they would laugh, Hannibal would say something particularly idiotic to see Will wheeze and then bolt out of his armchair and walk quickly to the bathroom, the door slammed with a bang and then water would hiss and gurgle. Always a shower after dinner, always a shower before bed, sometimes two. And he spent an inordinate amount of time in there as well.
It wasn’t Will’s place to judge someone’s hygiene, especially since he tended to run on the opposite side of the spectrum and forego washing in order to get more sleep or more nightmares, depending what his brain threw at him. Will didn’t comment on it, he didn’t acknowledge Hannibal’s grooming habits in any way and picked up their conversations where they ended before Hannibal fled.
++
That day seemed no different and Will remained lounging on his sunbed with a glass of crispy cold lemonade that Hannibal made for them when Hannibal said he would be back shortly. The weather was pleasant, the breeze caressed his skin and made the hairs on his shins and thighs stand on end. Will stretched to feel his muscles tense and relax, to feel his returning strength and a promise of a happy life ahead to unfurl in his belly. He adjusted his sunglasses and closed his eyes.
He must have fallen asleep because the next time he opened them, the sun had moved and his back twinged from being in one position for too long. The ice in the jar had completely melted and Hannibal still hadn’t returned.
Will frowned and went into the house, he was greeted by an opera blaring from Hannibal’s room at a volume that made Will’s head hurt, the pipes were humming. Will looked at the clock, Hannibal had been showering for two hours.
“What the fuck?” he murmured and climbed the stairs.
The door to Hannibal’s room was shut and locked, Will’s heart started a mission of breaking his ribs as he tried the handle to make sure it wasn’t just stuck. They didn’t lock their doors, they had vowed to each other that they wouldn’t. He knocked on it, then knocked louder, then knocked on it so hard his fists hurt. He called out to Hannibal but there was no answer, he yanked the handle again. He knew how to pick a lock, so he decided to pick it.
“If you’re jerking off, I’m sorry,” he huffed as the door gave and he pushed it open.
Hannibal was not jerking off, the room was empty and Will went to the speaker to turn off the music. The shower was on. Will tried that door and it was locked as well.
“Hannibal! Hannibal, I’m sorry, it’s been two hours, are you okay?” he shouted into the wood. Hannibal didn’t respond. “Hey, I know it’s rude but I’m getting worried. Can you just tell me you’re okay and I’ll fuck off?”
Will pressed his ear to the door to catch any noise, it was silent for several moments and then, through the water, Will heard a faint retch and a whimper. Will felt sweat pour down his side and his knees almost gave out. He slid on the floor to deal with the lock but it was taking longer, his hands were shaking and awkward. He kept telling Hannibal that he needed one more second, that he would be with him soon.
“Don’t come in,” Hannibal wailed when Will was nearly done, his voice was shot and so desperate that Will didn’t know what to do with it.
“What do you mean don’t come in?” he screamed back stupidly. “You’re clearly not alright…”
There was some rustling and a noise of something heavy plopping on the floor. And a cry.
Will burst into the bathroom and saw Hannibal crawling away from him. His slacks and underwear were tangled around his ankles and he was covering himself with a dirty towel. His eyes were red and puffy, there was vomit around his mouth and on his chin, he didn’t look at Will. It smelled overwhelmingly of sick and shit. Will turned off the tap and kneeled, he began to approach Hannibal slowly.
“How can I help?” he whispered and even that was difficult, his throat wanted to close up and choke him.
Hannibal kept crawling but bumped his head into the bathtub and sobbed, there was nowhere to crawl anymore. Will reached his hand and put it on Hannibal’s shoe, his leg tensed like he wanted to shake it off but didn’t have enough power, he probably didn’t. He still refused to look at Will.
“I’ll help you shower and then we’ll go to bed, how does this sound, hm?” he said softly and untied Hannibal’s shoes, he took them off together with the socks. He started pulling his pants and underwear too but Hannibal whined. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Everything is okay, let me, please,” Will begged him and rubbed his jutting ankle bone with his thumb. “You’ll feel better when you’re clean, I promise.”
He unbuttoned Hannibal’s shirt and put it in the pile with the rest of his clothes. He took a clean towel and wiped Hannibal’s face while the man cried. Will made sure to check the temperature in the shower, he saw a low bench inside. He returned to Hannibal and held him under his armpits to hoist him up.
“Come on, hold on to me, it will be easier if you hug me.” Hannibal stubbornly refused to let go of the soiled piece of cloth and clenched his fingers around it to cover his middle. “Okay, okay, we’ll do it the other way around.”
Will stood behind Hannibal and tried to lift him again, the man groaned but cooperated and they waddled slowly into the cubicle. Will was watching their step and saw a full bucket of sick near the toilet, he peeked inside the porcelain bowl, Hannibal didn’t have time to flush, there was blood. Will bit his lip not to make a sound but didn’t manage to contain his tears.
“I’ll lower you on the bench but you have to drop the towel, Hannibal. Please.”
Hannibal did and he did so with an expression of utter defeat on his beautiful face. They didn’t talk while Will washed him with ultimate gentleness, he only kissed Hannibal’s forehead when he whimpered from time to time, unfortunately, it only made Hannibal’s shoulders tremble harder.
When they were both clean and Hannibal was in bed, he coughed and finally looked at Will.
“I’ll let you go back to your plans then,” he rasped.
Will nodded and went to the kitchen to make some herbal tea, he returned carrying a full tray with honey, lemon, sugar and an assortment of snacks. When he entered the room, he caught Hannibal pulling at his hair angrily.
“May I suggest you stop that?” Hannibal whipped his head to him. “I wasn’t sure what would be best so I brought all of this.” He placed the tray in the middle of the bed and sat down.
“Thank you, Will. You can go now.”
“I’m afraid I can’t,” Will said solemnly and pointed at everything on the tray, Hannibal only agreed to the tea.
While he drank, Will scrubbed the bathroom until it was shiny and spotless, he started the laundry. He had many questions he wanted fucking answers to but it could wait, he wanted to comfort him most of all. Hannibal didn’t eat any of the food Will picked and didn’t have any wish to eat in general. Fair enough, Will mused. He asked the man’s permission to sleep in his bed that night, Hannibal didn’t grant it. Will told him to wake him up if he needed anything and knew that Hannibal wouldn’t. Yet.
++
The thing was that Hannibal looked fine, his stomach looked fine and even if the bullet scar was puckered, it was healed and not inflamed, Will checked. The thing was that Hannibal failed to accept he had to be slower, that he couldn’t eat and drink as he had done before and that the range of his movements was limited, Will guessed.
The following morning started as usual and Will didn’t mention anything that had transpired, he was going to intrude softly but then his cup slipped from his fingers and smashed on the floor. Hannibal was quicker to bend down than Will, his face whitened and he lost his balance. His palm landed in glass chunks and he promptly puked. He tried to stand up and leave but Will was fast enough to grab his bicep and pin him in place.
“First, we treat your hand,” he spoke and gripped Hannibal’s other arm to keep him from bending again and touching the glass. “Don’t look there, Hannibal, look at me. First, we will treat your hand and then I’ll come here and deal with the cup.”
Hannibal let Will to sit him on the edge of the bathtub and extract the glass shards from his palm. Will was washing it with soap when Hannibal began to look panicked.
“I’m sorry, I know it hurts,” he cooed.
“It doesn’t,” Hannibal answered and clenched his teeth.
“What is it, then?”
“I need to use the toilet. Now.”
“Okay, let’s go.” Will pulled him up by the shoulders and led him to the toilet. He unbuckled his belt and was about to undo his zipper when Hannibal slapped his hands away.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he hissed.
Will looked up. Hannibal’s cheeks were blotchy red and his eyes brimmed with tears. Will hurried out.
“I will be sitting on your bed! Call me when you’re ready and I’ll finish with your hand!”
“Leave, Will. Please.”
Hannibal didn’t come out of his room till the evening and Will didn’t bother him. However, as soon as he heard that Hannibal’s shower was quiet, he knocked on his door.
Hannibal was swaddled in blankets so that only his face and hair were visible, he looked tired and sad, Will felt tired and sad.
“Talk to me?”
“What do you want to talk about?” Hannibal asked in annoyance.
“Us.” It caught Hannibal off guard because he lowered the blankets under his chin and tilted his head. Oh, Will loved when he tilted his head. “I don’t like it when we spend our days separately, I’ve had too many days without you already.”
“I didn’t…” Hannibal began but cut himself off.
“Didn’t feel well? Yes, I know. I just don’t know why and why you hid it.”
“I don’t need a lecture.”
“There’ll be no lecture. May I sit with you?” Hannibal nodded , Will climbed on the bed and leaned on the frame, looking at Hannibal, the man shifted to be able to look at Will and winced. “I want to be honest with you, will you be honest with me?”
“I will.” Will couldn’t see it very well under the blankets but it seemed that Hannibal had his hand on his stomach, protecting it. Will could relate, he wanted to protect it too.
“I love you,” he said and Hannibal blinked quickly. “I have loved you for a long time now and I was so happy to finally be with you, live with you, whatever the fuck this life might bring. I didn’t expect it would bring you shutting me out.” Will sighed heavily. “You fell off a cliff with me, you nursed me back to health, you inserted my catheter and you removed it but you don’t allow me to pull your pants down when your palm is sliced open.”
“It’s not the same,” Hannibal chimed in.
“I know, on some level I know,” Will agreed and smiled sadly. “I just would like it to be. You’re a doctor, I don’t need to explain to you how bodies work and that there’s nothing wrong, or gross, or unsightly about it. There’s definitely nothing wrong, or gross, or unsightly about you.”
“You can’t mean that,” he mumbled.
“And why not?” Will questioned with a frown and turned to Hannibal to face him fully.
“Because I love you too, Will. And because you are the most stunning man I’ve ever seen. You are young, you are strong, you are beautiful, and I have wanted to kiss you forever. And every other time I open my mouth I vomit,” Hannibal said and rubbed his face, with his uninjured hand to Will’s relief. “So you can’t mean it, it can’t be right because I’m the most ancient I’ve ever felt, I’m not healing properly and I’m on the verge of shitting myself half the time.” Here he stopped and laughed. It wasn’t his benevolent laugh or his arrogant laugh or his cute sunshine laugh, it was hysterical and it was heart-breaking.
“May I touch you?” Will whispered.
“I can’t provide you with any sort of touch back.”
“You don’t have to provide anything for me, Hannibal, I just want to touch you, may I?”
“Yes.”
Will scooted down so that he could lie next to Hannibal and stroked his hair. It was soft and gray, he traced the shape of his ear with a fingertip and massaged his earlobe. Will cupped his face and rubbed the delicate skin of his under eye, feeling so full of love and rage for how bruised and swollen it was.
“Do you understand that I want to provide for you? You pay the bills and run the house and make sure we’re not dead or found or both. You are doing so much for us, let me do this for you. Rely on me, lean on me, fucking crush me with all of it, just let me be here, with you.”
++
It was excruciating to watch Hannibal struggle to choose how vulnerable he could allow himself to be. The adjustment was a long and non-linear process and it devastated them both. Sometimes he let Will undress him and wash him, other times he snapped and cursed. Will wasn’t angry at Hannibal, never at Hannibal, he was angry with the world and wanted to screech.
It got better after a month when they started kissing. It happened when Hannibal said something so out of pocket that Will grabbed his face and kissed him with all the pent-up desperation and frenzy. Hannibal gasped, and moaned, and clutched Will to himself.
It got worse a month and a half later when Hannibal tried to fuck Will for the first time and his stomach cramped. It had been going wonderfully until then, with tender dick-sucking and even tenderer ass-eating and labored breathing and grabby hands and busy teeth. Will arched his back and stuffed his face into the pillow when Hannibal’s cock pushed inside him. Will didn’t notice anything was amiss initially, he thought that Hannibal’s quiet ‘fuck’ echoed the ringing ‘fuck’ in his head, it felt so good and so fundamentally right. It started feeling very wrong when Hannibal’s dick got flaccid and Will heard the slick sound of the man’s hand trying to get it up again.
“Hannibal?”
“It’s fine, one moment,” he growled.
Will turned around and saw his face, set into a painful furious grimace, his other arm was wrapped around his belly.
“You are hurt, let’s stop,” Will suggested.
“No, it’s fine, I told you it’s fine,” he spat out and then doubled over. Will was off the bed and guiding Hannibal into the bathroom in a second.
He sat on the floor on his bare ass in front of the toilet, Hannibal’s head hung low so he wiped his tears and calmed him down. He showered them both, dried them both and brushed Hannibal’s teeth, Hannibal laughed then, it was a win.
“Don’t do it again, please,” he begged when they were cuddled in bed afterwards. Will was spooning Hannibal and kissing the back of his neck, his fingers were dancing on Hannibal’s tummy to reassure it.
“So I need an escort to the toilet one time and can’t fuck you anymore?”
“Don’t be dense, you can fuck me whenever and however you like,” Will said and bit him. “Don’t try to power through it for my sake. I only enjoy it if you enjoy it.”
“I love you,” Hannibal said and lifted Will’s hand to his lips to kiss it.
“I love you.”
++
“Are you admiring our garden, baby?” Will asks and hugs Hannibal from behind.
“It’s mostly your garden, you work on it.” Will can feel his voice vibrating in his ear pressed to Hannibal’s throat.
“You planned it, and you taught me how to do it, and it is successful only because you stare at my ass when I weed it, you know,” Will counters and makes Hannibal chuckle and squeeze his arms. “And you make the best preserves and jams,” he finishes with conviction and a sound kiss on Hannibal’s cheek.
“Thank you, Will.”
“Would you like me to wash your feet now? I can paint your toenails again if you want.”
“That would be lovely.”
They have a routine now, and it is lovely, Will believes it wholeheartedly. Hannibal doesn’t feel comfortable when he crouches or bends down so Will does it for him. He shows Hannibal the box with their nail polishes and Hannibal chooses a sparkly purple. He lies on their bed when Will sits on Hannibal’s knees and does his nails, he got very good at it over the years. Hannibal kneads his ass and slaps it to sabotage his own pedicure, Will just laughs. He dries one foot with a small fan and blows on the other, he’s been conducting an experiment which method is more efficient. Hannibal thinks that Will’s breath is, Will agrees with him even if he can see that it’s total bullshit.
Hannibal has been into teaching himself to play the harmonica, he’s also been into thinking that Will wants to learn it as well. Will licked it all over the first time Hannibal thrust it into his face and this was how Hannibal discovered he has a spit kink, Will is all too happy to oblige.
He spits on Hannibal’s dick before he takes it into his mouth, Hannibal moans and his head lolls back but he straightens his neck immediately.
“I want to watch you,” he says. Will smiles and lets his saliva drip down Hannibal’s cock.
He shoves his fingers into Hannibal’s wet mouth and Hannibal whines around them. Will stretches his lips and opens his jaw, doesn’t allow him to swallow and Hannibal’s spit escapes from behind his teeth and smears on his chin, a strand of it trickles down his throat when Will gains speed and drops down hard on his dick. Will supports his weight on his forearm, he removes his fingers from Hannibal’s mouth and grabs his hair instead. Will kisses him deeply, Hannibal clutches his shoulders. Right before he comes, Will pulls away from the kiss and licks his cheekbone, Hannibal comes a second later.
Will braids Hannibal’s hair and Hannibal puts oils in Will’s beard. Will changes the sheets and Hannibal dusts the bookshelves. Will washes the floor on all fours in nothing but lacy lingerie and Hannibal buys it.
It’s a wondrous life because it’s with Hannibal.