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Will's head bobs forward as he sneezes again. "Sorry," he mutters as Hannibal passes across the box of tissues. He takes a few, turns his head and sneezes into them.
"Gesundheit," says Hannibal. The intensity of his stare makes Will's skin prickle and he knows that he's flushing with embarrassment. He's chilled from being in the rain for hours at the crime scene and what was a tickle at the back of his throat yesterday has now mutated into a full-blown head cold.
Will nods his thanks and tries to remember what they were talking about. His head feels like it's been stuffed with cotton wool. "I, umm...."
"Will," says Hannibal. "If you are feeling unwell-"
"It's nothing. Just a cold." His hasty interjection is followed by a small coughing jag that undermines his words.
Hannibal doesn't say anything about Will's dismissal of his own health, merely continues as though Will hadn't interrupted at all. "If you are feeling unwell perhaps you would prefer to continue this session at a later date."
Will fidgets. "I don't-" he breaks off to sneeze.
"Gesundheit," says Hannibal. "Will, your clothes are damp and you seem to be suffering with something-" Will makes a small noise of disagreement but Hannibal ignores him, "-therefore I suggest we find an alternative." Will knows it's not a suggestion.
"Fine." He sighs. "Fine. What did you have in mind?"
***
Will's perched on the end of the bed sniffling and nursing the hot toddy that Hannibal's made him while Hannibal bustles about with his usual efficiency. The drink's heavy on the alcohol and he probably won't be driving home tonight. He's grateful that he fed and walked the dogs before he came to Hannibal's for his appointment.
"Will?" He hadn't heard Hannibal come back in the room and startles at his voice. Hannibal's holding out a white fluffy bathrobe.
"Umm?"
"Get undressed and put this on," says Hannibal.
He quirks an eyebrow but doesn't have the energy to argue and it feels good to be shedding his damp clothes at last. Once he's undressed Hannibal ushers him into the bathroom.
It's beautifully elegant, like the rest of Hannibal's house. White tiles sparkle on two of the walls and a rich royal blue coats the others. The faun tiles are cool under Will's feet but the whole room is filled with steam and Will shivers gratefully. The bathtub is an enormous cast iron affair, sloping up at the back and with copper sides that have little beads of steam forming on them. It's big, easily large enough for Will or Hannibal to stretch out in. It is filled, not quite to the top, with steaming hot water and a thick layer of bubble bath. It's possibly the most decadent thing Will's seen in his entire life. He can't remember the last time he had a bath, preferring more practical showers.
"Get in," says Hannibal, helping to remove the bathrobe. "I'll join you in a minute."
Will doesn't hesitate. He knocks back the last of his hot toddy and sinks into the bath. It feels amazing. It's not too hot and whatever Hannibal has put in the bathwater instantly starts soothing his tired, aching muscles. He closes his eyes and lets the heat and steam relax him.
Will's not exactly sure how long he's been dozing when Hannibal taps him on the arm and he slides forward obligingly, letting Hannibal climb into the bath behind him. He settles comfortably against Hannibal's chest.
"Thank you," he says.
"You're welcome," Hannibal says, almost formally as though the two of them were sat at the table downstairs in the dining room rather than naked in the bath together. He rubs his hand slowly over Will's chest and Will closes his eyes again and lets out a small contented sigh. "You need to start taking better care of yourself Will."
Will doesn't say anything, he doesn't want to argue with Hannibal but of course his body chooses this moment to betray him as the steam finally appears to have worked on his stuffed sinuses and he sniffs before pitching forward with a sneeze. Water laps at the edge of the bath from the sudden motion and Will groans.
"Ugh, sorry."
Hannibal pulls Will back against his chest. Now his head is clearer Will can smell the delicate scent of the bath oils in the air. Eucalyptus, mint and something else he can't place.
"Bless you."
"Thanks." He runs a hand over his face and swipes at his nose.
"Will?"
Will sighs. "I know, I know. I promise I will start taking better care of myself." He says it by rote and he can tell from the way Hannibal shifts behind him that he's neither satisfied nor amused by his answer. He adds, "It does help though... This... Us."
"I'm glad." Will's eyes have drifted shut again but he can hear the smile in Hannibal's voice.
Hannibal presses a small kiss to Will's temple and lets his hand slide down from Will's chest to his cock.
Will murmurs appreciatively as Hannibal slowly begins stroking him. The pressure is pleasant and Will moans appreciatively as Hannibal begins moving his hand more swiftly along his cock. Hannibal doesn't say anything but he takes his cues from Will as he moves and moans in response to Hannibal's touch.
Will comes quickly and sinks back against Hannibal. He twists his head and presses a sloppy kiss against Hannibal's jaw. "Thank you."
He shuts his eyes and dozes until Hannibal wakes him once the water has started to cool and Will notices his fingers are starting to prune.
He's blissfully relaxed as Hannibal manoeuvres him out of the bath and gently dries him with another soft fluffy towel. There's a twinkle in Hannibal's eye as he selects a bottle of lotion from one of his cabinets and slowly begins rubbing it into Will's skin. Will begins to mumble that it's not necessary but Hannibal massages his skin so well, his firm hands working the last of the stress from Will's body that his complaint quickly dies in his throat.
When he's finished Hannibal places a small kiss at the nape of Will's neck before steering him back into the bedroom. Hannibal slips on a pair of pyjamas and hands Will his boxers, which are warm and dry.
"The rest of your clothes will be dry by the morning," says Hannibal.
Will crawls into bed and yawns heavily. When Hannibal joins him he curls up next to him, burying his head against Hannibal's chest.
"Thank you." His voice is rough from his cold but there's a slurry, sleepy, satisfaction to it. "Dunno what I'd do without you." His eyes fall shut and it's only a few deep breaths before he's asleep.
Hannibal just smiles.