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Will allowed the cold air of the room to sweep under the sheets and feel up Hannibal’s back like iced hands, causing him to seize and stiffen. Will quickly climbed into the bed with him, pressing his body against Hannibal’s bare back to remedying the chill. He wrapped his arm around Hannibal’s waist and rested the other under his own head, propping himself against the pillow.
Hannibal opened his eyes slowly, and Will could feel him flick up a curious eyebrow.
“This is just because I’m cold.” Will said quickly. Bitterly. “Don’t over think it.”
“I believe you.” Hannibal replied with a groggy voice.
Will knew he didn’t, and that was okay. He was lying.
Will let his head slide into the curvature of Hannibal’s neck and shoulder. He delighted in the way he felt the older man inhale deeply upon the contact, and Hannibal delighted in the way Will’s unshaven face scratched against the skin of his back.
After getting Hannibal stitched up and settled, Will had become a ghost. He dealt with their travels and routines on the boat, checked on Hannibal’s bandages, and made sure he was eating- but never much more than that.
Sometimes he would come in to ask trivial questions, or make statements that didn’t lead to much conversation. Sometimes he would come in just to sit at the end of the bed for a while in silence. Hannibal found as much enjoyment in those times as he could, but it mostly just filled him with a sickening longing.
Hannibal knew he wasn’t personally ready to leave his bed for more than a few minutes, but he was awake more regularly now. He kept wanting to check on Will the way Will checked on him, and talk to him in a way that would start a conversation with deeper meaning than “the wheel has hand warmers in it, I think.”
He didn’t think that Will was ready for deeper conversation yet, anyway, but he missed being close to him. Being enclosed by the smell of Will in the morning was nearly enough to make him emotionally dig into how to felt to be away from him.
With a clearing of his throat, Hannibal began to turn in Will’s arms. Will hardly moved from it, only leaning back as to not get struck by a shoulder as Hannibal came to face him. Hannibal adjusted his arms so that they pressed into the small of Will’s back, holding their waists together, and leveled his head so that his nose was on the same plane as Will’s.
He waited for Will to fight it, scoot away, or even scowl. Instead, Will looked amused.
“This is just because,” Hannibal began to explain, unprompted. “There’s more room on the bed if we lie this way.” He chose not to add “Don’t over think it.” to the end, or to say it with the same acrimonious tone that Will had but didn’t mean.
“Is there?” Will asked, arching a single brow. He paused and kicked his feet inside the sheets as if to imply he were checking thee room they had. He looked at Hannibal with kind of playful scrutiny, but still showed no signs of wanting to pull away.
“It’s a California king, Hannibal.”
Hannibal smiled wide and nodded in a kind of agreement. “And there is a heater in your room.”
Will’s expression broke into a smile as he laughed at his own stubbornness.
“You never need an excuse to come into my room, Will.” Hannibal added. His voice softened towards the end, as if it had become lost. Will evoked many feelings that Hannibal wasn’t used to, a lot of which he enjoyed.
There wasn’t much to enjoy about the dry-mouthed nervousness he felt creeping up on him now.
Hannibal kneaded his feet against the mattress and swept them between Will’s legs, threading them together under the sheets and pulling him even closer. Will allowed it and brought his hands to the same spots on Hannibal’s back that Hannibal held his, unconsciously drawing circles against his spine. Hannibal could feel himself relaxing against them.
With an enchanted sigh, Hannibal rested his head back to his pillow but didn’t yet shut his eyes. He kept looking at Will with an unfathomably blissful smile that made Will feel as though he was something of worship.
Will’s hair had grown rather wild since their boarding of the boat, full of tight twists and thick waves of brunette that seemed to not follow any set code. His beard was short still, but shaggy, and could use a trim around the edges. He looked primal without taking from his base lithe and gentle appearance.
Hannibal imagined that he appeared in a similar way- overgrown and disheveled from extended amounts of sleep without a comb or a razor. However, even in his youngest years, he was never quite as soft as Will. Hannibal wanted to drink him in forever.
Will didn’t become uncomfortable with the eye-contact until the exact moment he became aware of how just long he had allowed himself to wander in the brass tones of Hannibal’s irises. He broke it with a heavy sigh, and tilted his head back.
Hannibal kept his eyes forward and began studying the shapes of Will’s throat with the exact same expression.
“It’s raining.” Will said observationally, seemingly as a way to kill the tension he had accidently brought into the room.
Hannibal titled his head and listened for it, but didn’t speak. He could hear the droplets striking against the deck above them, and could feel the aggressive shift of the sea that hugged the hull below. It wasn’t a true storm and nothing they couldn’t handle; only some rough waters to wait out.
Will brought his gaze back to match Hannibal’s slowly. “It was raining the day you left me.” He said. His voice shook nervously and was tainted by a bite of avoidance, as if he wanted to take the words back as soon as they formed.
The words struck Hannibal with the same suddenness of a punch. He had thought over this moment many times, breaking it down as best he could in order to be better prepared for the actual thing. He had always imagined Will to be angrier. Shaking hands, tears building in his eyes- neither of which were present at this moment. The phrasing that Will had chosen was also odd and unplanned for.
“The day you stabbed me.”
"The day you gutted me.”
“The day you killed me.”
“The day you killed all of us.”
It was never something so honest as “The day you left me.”
It took Hannibal a moment to respond. He laid his palm on Will’s face and stroked at stiches in his cheek with his thumb to pass the time he needed.
“Do you associate the rain with that day?” He finally managed to say.
Will took in another deep breath and gasped, “Yes.”
He still sounded as if he were breaking, but he looked strong. His eyes were again locked with Hannibal’s, now with an intensity that nearly made Hannibal need to shy away.
“The sound, the smell…” Will continued, needing to breathe deeply between words. “The chill of it as it works its way over the cement.” He closed his eyes. “It’s hard not to.”
Hannibal let him talk and watched his eyelids twitch as Will let himself remember. He brought his hand from Will’s face, to his shoulder, and eventually back to his waist. Part of him felt reprimanded. He felt like he shouldn’t be touching Will anymore, or that he didn’t have the right to, but that wasn’t what was buried in Will’s tone. This wasn’t a scolding.
Will’s own hands moved cautiously, leading in the opposite direction that Hannibal’s had. He paused as his fingers found Hannibal’s upper arm, gripping into him and sweeping his nails against Hannibal’s skin.
Will kissed him, suddenly. It was another motion that struck Hannibal like a punch.
Will’s lips parted only enough to snag up Hannibal’s bottom lip, and enough to create a muted “smack” sound as he pulled away. Hannibal’s grip on Will’s waist tightened in a determined attempt to not dive into him and devour him.
Will’s bashfulness took hold off him quickly, and caused him to close into Hannibal’s chest when this kiss was complete. He rested his head against Hannibal’s collarbone, and brought his hand up Hannibal’s body until they both found resting places in his hair on the back of his neck. Will laughed at himself, chuckling softly against Hannibal’s skin.
In this position, Will could feel the erratic pounding of Hannibal’s heart beat against his forehead- Hannibal was sure of it. He couldn’t yet unclench his hands.
“Did you need a new association with the rain?” Hannibal said, barely giving himself time to recover. Will could hear a tight pitch in his voice that he had not yet heard, and he liked it.
“Desperately.” Will said, another laugh leaving his lips shortly after. His hands rubbed at the back of Hannibal’s neck as he looked back up at him. He kissed him again, and again, in the same brief manor until Hannibal couldn’t find the want to control himself anymore.
Hannibal brought his own hand into Will’s curls, pulling them tightly and kissing him deeply. He wanted to kiss him until he could no longer stand it. He wanted to kiss him until he fell apart. And Will was prepared the accept that, if that were to be his fate.
They listened to the rainfall worsen, and kissed until sleep claimed them both again.