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Will Graham hated physical contact.
He despised the feeling of other people's skin touching his, and the closeness was always less than comfortable.
Unfortunately for Will Graham, distancing yourself from any and all human connection didn't work forever, and now it takes his full strength not to melt into every touch.
It was even more unfortunate that he lived in a remote safe house in Cuba, where the only other person he really ever interacted with was incredibly fond of showing physical affection towards him.
Will thanked any god that existed that the other man was at least somewhat subtle with it, just enough to keep himself from leaning in when the other brushed his arm as he passed to reach for something in the kitchen.
It didn't matter that he had to grip the counter till his knuckles turned white. It didn't matter he had to bite down on the inside of his cheek till the familiar taste of iron filled his mouth when his companion gave him a soft kiss on his forehead before bed.
It didn't. Really, it was fine.
He hated it, hated that it made him feel so loved. Hated that his bodily needs required things like this. Soft things. Frankly, it made him want to puke out his insides.
Because the truth was that Will loved it. He loved every subtle brush of hands, every pat on his shoulder. He lived for it.
But the truth scared him. As it often had in the past, and so will did what he did best when put in this position.
He ignored it.
But of course, he knew, he couldn't ignore it forever, at some point he would break. So he kept pushing that deadline off as much as he could.
What he hadn't anticipated, rather stupidly, really, was that said companion would notice his internal struggles.
~~~~~~ • ~~~~~~
Something was definitely up with Will.
This was a fact that Hannibal knew. Of course, he had hoped that Will would eventually come to him to shed light on his internal battles on his own, but it was clear now that his wishful thinking would not come to volition on its own.
The exactness of the issue wasn't entirely clear yet to Hannibal, though he had noticed how off will seemed to get after even the most gentle and subtle of touches. Of course Hannibal had realized back in Baltimore that will seemed to have an aversion to physical touch, often standing out of arm's reach of others or actively backing away when an attempt was made.
It was why the psychiatrist restrained himself so much around the boy. If it had been up to Hannibal, he would never not have his hands on Will. If now even his subtle touches were met with destain, Hannibal was unsure he would survive that separation.
Ignoring the problem, counter to Will's own beliefs, did nothing, and so Hannibal decided the best course of action was to confront Will about it, and hope the man felt generous enough to offer a look into his mind.
~~~
Hannibal was setting the small table in their makeshift safe house (makeshift, as Hannibal promised himself he would find something better, not only for Will's sake but also for his own) as the golden hour sun kissed the interior of the house. Straightening forks and serviettes. All his dishware had been left at the house in Baltimore, already stored away by the fbi as evidence, as if he was an amateur who left any behind. Tsk.
Satisfied with the rather lacking presentation, Hannibal checked that the food was all ready to be served, and headed towards the stairs to fetch Will, who had opted out of helping prepare dinner in favor of resting his head for a little while.
Ascending the stairs, he stopped Infront of the first door to his right. The one across was a bathroom, while his own stood stonefaced down the hall. He raised his hand and knocked gently on the wood, holding his ear up to the door to hear if any stirring occured, unsure if the boy was awake.
There was a short shuffling of sheets and Hannibal pulled back a bit, expecting the door to open, only to hear a soft "come in," from the other side of the door.
He pushed open the door softly and felt a small smile overtake his features at the sight Infront of him, Will sprawled out in bed with his sheets half off the mattress, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand as he sat up, squinting groggily at the welcome intruder now in his room.
Hannibal tried his best not to coo out loud at the way the man's curls fell into his face, his usual hairstyle disturbed from sleep, he knew the other man would hate it, though, so he kept his mouth shut.
He approached Will's bed and sat down on the corner, enjoying the view of Will in the golden light before his brain supplied him with the reason for disturbing this angel incarnate,
"Dinner is ready, if you would like to eat it now, " he phrased the last part more as a question, tilting his head at the boy "or I can save it for your lunch tomorrow if you would prefer to continue resting"
Will looked to consider his words for a minute, thoughts slowed through the haze of sleep, before he shook his head and gave a response,
"I'm already awake, aren't I? Plus," he added, "It would be rude of me to make you eat alone"
"I have eaten alone many times will, if you need more rest do not hesitate to tell me," Hannibal assured him again, as he stood up and offered his hand to Will, who took it as he yawned the last of sleep away. As Hannibal turned to walk out the door he thought he felt Will's hand trail after his own before abruptly pulling away. Thinking he'd imagined it, he turned his head to glance back at him through the doorway, cocking his brow.
Will stood slightly frozen as he stared in betrayal at the hand that had been in Hannibal's own moments before.
"Will?" He questioned him. Will seemed to snap out of his stuper and looked up at him "hm?" He replied, but stayed where he was.
"Are you doing alright? You sure you wanna come down?" He approached the man again and lifted his hands to inspect him, lifting his chin to check his pupils and using his other hand to check for a fever, he seemed fine but something was definitely wrong. He took a step back and leaned down a bit, moving his hands to the side of wills arms, holding him there, worried.
He could swear he felt will leaning into him through the quick checkup, but as he stepped back will seemed to still himself, he opened his mouth to reply to Hannibal before his stomach replied for him, grumbling loudly.
It made Hannibal's eyes light with amusement as he stepped finally back and removed himself from the other man's personal space, will let out a small sigh of what sounded like relief.
"Well I think that answers that," Hannibal joked lightly, offering Will a bright smile "Come eat something and then it's back to bed with you," he said fondly, stepping to the side of the doorway and gesturing for Will to pass.
For a few seconds Will just stared at him, multiple emotions flew threw his eyes as if he was battling his human instincts.
And then he was moving.
At first Hannibal didn't fully register the warm weight now resting itself on his chest until he felt arms wrap lazily around his lower back. Hannibal quickly went to hold him back, one hand wrapped around wills back and the other rested at the base of his curls. The other man was practically melting into him, and it would have been a lie to say that Hannibal wasn't on cloud 9 himself.
They stood there for a couple minutes, Hannibal holding the boy gently, stroking his hair as Will continued to melt. They stayed in silence until Hannibal's confusion outweighed his euphoria. It's not that they had never hugged before, it was that they had never hugged like this before. Never casually or domestically, it had always held a significant message, hidden beneath layers of violence.
Forgive me. I'm sorry.
Hannibal voiced as much,
"..Is something wrong?" He finally managed to croak.
And oh,
Will broke down into sobs at the question, and Hannibal held him tighter, he didn't know what was wrong, not how to fix it for Will, and so the best he could offer him was his support.
He held will as he cried and with every sob Hannibal felt another crack form in whatever remained of his heart. Many would describe it as the heart of a monster. Hannibal knew the man he held now wouldn't consider it such, anymore.
It was why he had given it to him, so long ago.
Hannibal held will so differently than he'd ever held anyone before. There was a lifetime of history, filled with anguish, but most of all love, that was encompassed in the way he held him.
He continued to stroke the boy's hair as he whispered reassurances into his uppermost curls.
Shhhh it's okay,
I have you. It's okay, I have you.
I'm here.
Eventually Will's sobs slowed into uneven breathing, and his grip on the back of Hannibal's dress shirt relaxed, followed by Hannibal's own on Will.
Bending down, Hannibal moved his hand from wills neck to push his hair out of his eyes, smiling fondly at the man Infront of him. Will looked ready to burst into tears again just from that look, taking another deep breath to collect himself.
"That's it...do not worry about dinner, it can wait," Hannibal soothed when Will glanced out to the hallway "you need to rest now, and I will make a big breakfast in the morning, just for you" he purred as he wiped leftover tears from Will's cheeks.
He felt Will's grip tighten on his shirt again when Hannibal shifted, the younger leaning once again into the former.
"Stay."
It was a simple plight. Barely audible at the volume it was spoken, but Hannibal heard it.
"Forever." He promised back. He ment it.
Will sniffled again and Hannibal decided it was better to move to the bed, as he grew quite uncomfortable with his position on the floor.
The former fbi profiler let out a small squeek as Hannibal scooped him up bridal style, taking the few steps from the door to the bed and laying him down. Before he could sit down properly, Will dragged him down to lay on his back. Hannibal let out a small chuckle as Will wrapped his arms around him again and layed his head on Hannibal's torso, a sigh of contentment leaving his lungs.
Hannibal brought his hand up to play with Will's hair again, admiring the way it reflected the last of the sunset's light coming in through the window. He didn't think he'd ever felt anything softer.
"Beautiful boy," he couldn't stop himself from saying.
Will looked up at him with nothing but domestic bliss in his eyes, Hannibal was sure his own reflected the same.
"Beautiful, sweet boy." He repeated, and he smiled warmer than he probably ever had in his life.
It was domestic, and not at all something they were used to, but Hannibal thought that, if this is what it felt like, he didn't quite mind it at all.
~
And if hours later Will woke up to find Hannibal cuddling his half-conscious body, that will stay between Will and his smile.
Conclusion? Maybe being touched wasn't so bad, if the touch came from someone you deeply loved.