It was 7:30pm and Hannibal Lecter was expecting company. Not just anyone, but Will. His last patient had left the better part of half an hour ago and Hannibal was bored. Completely and utterly bored. The psychiatrist glanced at the watch on his wrist. Will was already two minutes late.
Hannibal rose from his seat, slightly irritated by the fact that Will had not shown up. He hadn't even called to inform him that he was cancelling their session. Hannibal craved the other man's presence. He would not care freely admit it to anyone other than his own psychiatrist, but the loneliness he felt only worsened when Will was not with him. He had never felt this alone before he had met Will, so why should he make such a difference?
Hannibal already knew the answer. Will was someone who could understand him, see things from his perspective. He needed him. Felt an ache that he could barely suppress when he was with him. He longed to know what would happen if he allowed himself to indulge his desires. How would the other man respond?
Hannibal's thoughts were disrupted by the door swinging open suddenly. Initially, he felt slightly annoyed by the interruption, but relaxed when he realised that it was none other than the patient he had been expecting. Will.
"Hello Will. You're late." Hannibal informed him.
"I was considering not coming at all." Will replied flatly.
Hannibal's gaze swept over the other man. He was clearly unwell. He had a light sheen of sweat coating his skin, his hair was dishevelled and he looked as though he had not been sleeping well.
"Feeling sick?" Hannibal inquired, motioning to the seat opposite him. "Please, sit. You look as though you need to."
"I'm feeling fine." Will retorted, accepting the offer of a seat.
Hannibal made his way over to the other man, crouching down to his level. He could smell the sickness. It was nothing life threatening.
"You are sick." Hannibal countered, placing his hand on Will's head. He had a temperature.
Hannibal did not fail to notice the light shudder that ran through Will when his cool hand touched his hot skin, nor the way he leaned against his hand, his eyes closing slightly. "Why didn't you call?"
"I was trying to keep our appointment." Will replied, his voice hushed, just above a whisper. He wanted to tell him the truth. How he had ended up outside Hannibal's door without even knowing how he had ended up there. The last thing he remembered was laying down with Winston on his chest.
"Oh, Will." Hannibal sighed, his hand remaining on the others forehead. It was obvious that he was lying, Will couldn't even look at him. Hannibal paused briefly, before his hand moved to stroke Will's cheek.
"You shouldn't have come."
YOU ARE READING
Mushrooms(Hannigram)
Hayran KurguWill arrives late for an appointment, not knowing how he got to Hannibal's house. He'd been sleepwalking again. HAnnibal takes advantage of the situation.