Will lingered in the hallway, watching the firelight lick over Hannibal’s arms, his face, the book in his hands. He made no motion, did not go to him and sit beside him on the sofa. He stood, breath held tight, wrestling with himself. He wanted to go sit there, but-
“Will,” Hannibal’s eyes looked up, then flicked towards him, turning his head to find him in the doorway, “come, sit down.”
And he’d been trying so hard to avoid detection, standing down wind and everything. Still, Hannibal had invited him, no point resisting now. He stepped forward gingerly, making his way consciously into the room. Here came the tricky part.
There were many seats to choose from, a sturdy rocking chair, a winged arm chair with its own ottoman, and the sofa, of course. Without looking too deliberate, too tense, without warning Hannibal, he hoped, he measured his steps and sat down next to Hannibal. He sighed with the cushions, making himself lean back in the posture of relaxation and stared into the heart of the fire, unblinking. He felt Hannibal start, pause, felt his eyes skip over the page, onto him, then back, afraid of being noticed for his watching.
“What’re you reading?” Will asked when he was sure Hannibal had read the page fifty times but not taken in a word of it.
Hannibal’s fingers hesitated over the page, trying to read for him. “The
Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám,” he let the pages fall open towards Will, “In translation, unfortunately. I plan to learn Persian to read it properly.”
“All that for a book of poetry?” Will mused, tilting his head back.
“It is beautiful,” Hannibal explained, “and deserves to be understood in its native tongue.”
Will nodded thoughtfully, “Well, that’s one project for the future.” He winced; they hadn’t discussed the future yet. At all.
“Yes…” Hannibal hesitated, feeling the elephant in the room, “if I find myself with enough time on my hands to-” He silenced abruptly as Will’s arm came down around his shoulders.
Will gulped, feeling like a high schooler on his first date, all stilted movements and anxious energy. Keep calm, relax; it wasn’t as though they weren’t both mature adults who had done this a million times before with other consenting adults. There should be no problem, no awkwardness, and yet… his heart beat in his throat like a bird thrashing at its cage.
Cautiously, Will stroked his thumb against Hannibal’s shoulder, almost to remind himself it was there, real and solid. Hannibal jumped, nearly dropping his book, “Will, your arm-” he fumbled, trying to turn to Will without turning in to Will and finding the proximity made this almost impossible. To look him in the eye he’d have to get closer.
“I’m nearly healed,” Will swallowed, his voice sounding high and foreign, “besides I should be stretching it anyway, so I’m not so sore. So the muscles… heal the… the way they’re supposed to.” He tried not to watch Hannibal, curving into him, pressing against him. He tried to focus on the fire as Hannibal gave in to the position Will had put them in with the softest sigh. It couldn’t be done.
Hannibal turned his head to reply and found his cheek brushing against Will’s shoulder. His eyes closed instantly, his lungs involuntarily inhaling. Will felt his bicep tense with nerves, there was a painful yank at the still closing wound, but he gave no sign of pain, transfixed on Hannibal.
“Physical therapy,” Hannibal returned abruptly, lifting his cheek, voice rough and low, “will be the hardest part of the healing process. It will be… lengthy and very painful for some time.” He licked his lips, trying to open his eyes all the way and failing, “You should still be resting.”
“I can sit here.” Will felt his hand come around Hannibal’s shoulder, palm flat against his arm. His body decided before he did that he wanted Hannibal closer.
“Could we… just… come here,” he mumbled, squeezing Hannibal to him with one long pull.
Hannibal’s last restraints broke. Before Will knew it he felt arms wrapped around him and a face pressed into his collar. Stunned, he put both arms around Hannibal and held him. Hannibal fit into him like a warm, heavy blanket, pressing against him everywhere he felt lonely. Though he’d been alone, he’d never felt lonely… until Hannibal. Only made sense that being with Hannibal could soothe that ache, maybe the only thing that might.
Hannibal’s hands skirted the edges of his bandages, wary of pressing too much, of being too much. Yet, he held tight, squirmed half into Will’s lap, as close as he could possibly get. Will could feel his heart beat, a skittering patter in reckless time, and he was sure Hannibal had no idea Will knew about it. The moment reeked of desperation, and yet… his arm curled tighter around Hannibal. And yet he pressed closer and yearned to feel Hannibal melt against him, melt completely.
Hannibal gave, he shuddered, he kept perfectly silent, but he shook like a leaf. Will held him close and never once thought about letting go. Hannibal gave so beautifully, he pushed and melted and succumbed so perfectly in his arms. This… this was nice. It was actually… really nice, holding Hannibal. He hadn’t expected that.
Will let his head fall against Hannibal’s, let himself breathe in his hair, press skin to skin, rest together like this. He listened to Hannibal breathe and slowly their breaths fell together. He lost track of time and was on the point of sleep when Hannibal murmured something in his ear.
“The fire’s all but gone, we should go to bed.”
The words struck a bell and cracked Will’s eyes open. He was still holding onto Hannibal, smushed together in one corner of the couch. “N-No, don’t go,” his voice croaked, groggy. The implications of it didn’t register immediately, too tired to remember to care too little.
Hannibal paused. “I won’t. But wait here, I’ll get some blankets.” His legs hit the floor and he slowly rose, untangling himself from Will’s arms with unfair grace. Will whimpered, freezing where his Hannibal blanket had been. He closed his eyes and curled onto the sofa completely.
Hannibal returned. He knew he returned because he felt warm again, he felt welcome pressure and weight on the sofa, covering him, slipping up beside him and into his waiting arms. Will’s lips lifted, pleased to be embracing Hannibal once again.
“You’ll regret sleeping like this in the morning,” Hannibal muttered into his chest.
“Won’t,” Will grumbled, one hand stroking idly at Hannibal’s back.
“We could sleep on the bed… still together.”
Will heard the request in his pause. His arms tightened, “Too tired. Drag me to bed tomorrow.” And he hunkered down, pulled Hannibal close, and silenced him for the night with a kiss.
It’s 1am. I’m not even gonna try and sleep. Instead I’m going to go in depth into how I think my 3 favorite ships in Undertale snuggle.
Sans/Toriel: Sans is the little spoon, Toriel is the big spoon and they both love it that way. Cuddling Sans is like squishing a soft round pillow that makes fart noises when you squeeze too hard. Being cuddled by Toriel is like being wrapped in a big fluffy warm white blanket. They’re the softest cuddling buddies. When Toriel wakes up in the middle of the night, she sees immediately that she’s not alone. When Sans wakes up, from nightmares sometimes, he finds himself safe in a pair of warm, fluffy arms. They’re not too snuggly in public, so they save most of it for when they’re alone.
Undyne/Alphys: THEY ARE THE CUDDLIEST PAIR IN UNDERTALE I CANNOT BE CONVINCED OTHERWISE. They kiss and cuddle in public which Alphys learns to put up with and appreciate. Undyne is usually the big spoon, powerful tough royal guard that she is. She loves holding her cute little girlfriend and leaving kisses all down her neck. But when Alphys is especially thirsty and in a strangely dominant mood, Undyne will let herself be held. She rather enjoys it, even though most of the time, Alphys isn’t feeling up to being the big spoon.
Papyrus/Mettaton: Despite being smaller, Papyrus prefers to be the big spoon. He’s used to acting like a protector. And Mettaton loves receiving affection. Sometimes they switch, but Papyrus is a terrible little spoon. He squirms and gets uncomfortable and keeps everyone awake. Mettaton likes to cuddle in public, but Papyrus is too awkward and asks to take it slow.
time for another 30$ commission! this time for @poohbear6268 ! the request was for something similar to the icon i had designed for them, but also with Millicent!! i wanted it to feel really close and snuggly ~ and i think it worked out!!! it’s like… TOO snuggly to be of mass murders! HAHAHAH!!! (-^ O^-) really though… i can’t say enough kind things about @poohbear6268*hugs* you are one of my biggest cheerleaders and you never let me get down on myself or my work. from early on you’ve always shown up at just the right time with a kind word and supportive attitude! I can’t wait to get started on your second piece! *snuggle snuggle snuggle* <3 <3 <3