Chapter Text
Will thought it was a bit cliche to compare him to a dancer, but there it was. Hannibal moved around his kitchen with a fluid grace he deeply admired. Will wasn’t clumsy per say, but next to Hannibal he looked like a bull in a china shop. The doctor stirred mysterious sauces, chopped exotic vegetables, and pureed god knows what with speed and accuracy. He was, thought Will, pretty much the personification of poise and control.
He was the king of his domain. Until he wasn’t.
Hannibal made a sharp, staccato sound as his feet flew out from under him. Will almost scrambled over the counter to get to him, but to no avail. There was a nauseating crack, and Will was on top of him in a moment, eyes wide.
“Hannibal! Jesus! What happened?”
Hannibal’s face had a greenish tinge, and he looked up at Will drunkenly.
“I seem to have fallen.”
Will almost laughed, and then saw Hannibal’s arm. His stomach turned.
The offending arm was bent at an unnatural angle, somehow twisting away from the elbow. The fabric of his shirt covered the obvious break. Will gulped down a mouthful of bile. Despite the crime scenes, the gore, and the buckets of blood, broken bones made Will Graham, criminal profiler for the FBI, sick as a dog.
“Your..Your arm is broken Hannibal. We need to...we need to get you to the hospital.”
Hannibal looked up at Will again, and with no expression what-so-ever, said, “Ouch”.
Will raised his eyebrows and pressed his lips together. He pretended to cough while his shoulders shook with laughter. Still trying to contain himself, Will picked up the phone.
“Jack? Hey. I could use a little help...”
oOo
An hour and a half later, Will sat in a brightly lit waiting room at Johns Hopkins. Hannibal had gone back immediately, triage nurses swooping in with a wheel chair and several blood pressure cuffs.
“Mr. Graham?” a feminine voice rang out through the large room.
Will raised his hand and walked towards the plump, friendly looking woman.
“Mr. Graham, Doctor Lecter is back in a room. He’s on a significant amount of pain medication, and is pretty out of it, but is asking for you quite... adamantly.”
She paused and let a little smile creep onto her face.
“He also wanted me to warn you.”
“Warn me?” Will asked, confused.
She cleared her throat.
“Warn you that...when he’s done with you tonight, you’ll be limping for a week”.
Will slapped a hand over his face, which was quickly turning an unnerving shade of maroon.
oOo
In room 151, Hannibal lay asleep in his adjustable bed. Will watched him for a moment, appreciating his serene, almost innocent expression. This was something he usually saved for Will alone.
At the sound of footsteps, Hannibal’s head snapped up comically, his eyes wide. Will was reminded of Buster, protecting his pack leader from miscreants and other foe.
“Will...y!” exclaimed Hannibal, attempting to wink. He only managed to blink both eyes unevenly.
Will walked over, and kissed Hannibal lightly on the forehead. Hannibal grinned at him crookedly.
“Hey Willy.” murmured Hannibal, attempting to sound smooth and alluring.
“Hey yourself” said Will dubiously. “Did you just call me Willy?”
Hannibal, free of all inhibitions, growled at him suggestively.
“Did the lovely nurse Reynolds warn you? I made her promise. I made her swear.”
Nurse Reynolds tried to look busy during this exchange, pretending to enter data into a mobile computer. Hannibal lifted a single eyebrow, and looked Will up and down. Thankfully, the older man’s eyes began to shut. The nurse decided it was safe to complete her “work” and hurried over to adjust her patient’s many IVs.
With Hannibal asleep, or at least in some sort of delightful stupor, Will turned to wander out for a heavily caffeinated beverage. He was speaking quietly to the nurse, when he felt a sharp pinch on his right butt cheek. Startled, he whipped back towards Hannibal. The disheveled patient, looking anything but sexy in a purple hospital gown, tried again to wink. He failed, shrugged, and flopped back down onto his pillows.
Will sighed. This was going to be interesting.
oOo
“Hommme...” Hannibal slurred.
Will had helped him through the front door, trying not to bump his heavily plastered arm. Hannibal’s pain had been better, but they had dosed the living Hell out of him right before the ride home.
Hannibal plopped down heavily onto his favorite leather sofa, immediately falling over onto his side. Will was sure he was asleep, when the doctor rolled over and stuck his head between 2 of the cushions. He sniffed deeply, and released a muffled sound. Did he just purr?
He stayed like that for a moment, an ostrich with its head in the sand. Will laughed and hauled him out.
“You’ll suffocate! Besides. It’s really fucking weird.”
It was Hannibal’s turn to laugh.
“You like it” he whispered, eyes crossing slightly.
It took all of Will’s strength not to take several hundred pictures of Hannibal grinning like an idiot rubbing his face against sofa cushions. Bev would eat this shit up...
He decided against it, and simply sat next to Hannibal, pulling his head into his lap. In about 3 seconds flat, snores filled the room.
Will must have fallen asleep as well, and woke with a weight on his lap. Hannibal was still breathing evenly against his thigh. Will smiled lovingly down at the unconscious man, and apologized silently as he carefully took out his phone and opened the camera. He couldn’t resist. The renowned Dr. Hannibal Lecter, talented surgeon and famed psychiatrist, curled up in his boyfriend’s lap drooling like a Golden Retriever. Will grinned sleepily, and drifted off against the cushions.