Title: Touch

Summary: Will goes to a masseuse.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannibal or Will or anything in relation to NBC or the show Hannibal. When I die this will be one of my greatest regrets. Seriously.

Author's Note: This is written as a prompt fill over on dreadmwidth and the Hannibal Kink Meme. Will goes to Hannibal, who is a masseuse, and in this story Hannibal is NOT a serial killer but he is a bastard. He loves screwing with the heads of the people around him, especially his clients.

Anyway, hope you enjoy the story!

Professor Will Graham's attention was supposed to be on the stack of research papers his 9:00 class had handed in an hour ago. This was simply not the case. A migraine, whose starting point had been beneath the stretched, waxy patch of skin of his forehead, had spread to both temples and was sending out jack in the form of reassuring indications of stopping anytime soon. The bright light of his office aggravated his headache like sunlight shining off of too much snow.

Upon completion of his class, he had entered his office at precisely 10:45 swiftly and mulishly closing the door behind him, not wanting any student or faculty member to mistake an open door as an invitation of any kind (not that they would, they knew better but why take the chance?). At 10:50 he pulled out from his brown and beaten messenger bag the first paper. It was by a student named Lilly Samuelson. He did not know that of course. He rarely spared the name at the top a cursory glance because why should he? All that mattered was content.

Ms. Samuelson or in Will's mind student x received high marks and then it was onto the next paper. The next hour and a half was anything but tolerant and he was not sure this did not reflect in his grading. He knew he should take a break but a stubborn streak and the fact he wanted to put a dent in the considerable amount of paperwork he had been neglecting over the last few days due to, what else Jack and his never ending pursuit of chin wags, effectively flushed a well-deserved break down the shitter.

That thought caused him to clutch the red ballpoint in his hand a little tighter than was necessary. He knew Jack was just doing his job, and it was a damned important job no argument from Will. However, that did not sooth the resentment he sometimes felt against the older man. Will was finding it harder and harder to bring himself back from the places Jack led him into, and if he was being honest, the places it felt like Jack left him in. Was that unfair? He did try to help Will by trying to talk to him about the cases afterwards but Will could not bring himself to do so.

The need to wash those cases off of him as soon as he could was pulsing at the end of every case. Did it go that smoothly? Fuck No. His dreams were proof enough of that. Dreams (not nightmares, he refused to call them nightmares) took root in his sleep every night. Blood forming long red rivers and images of him choking the life out of some poor faceless, screaming girl played in a constant loop whenever he shut his eyes for more than an hour.

This was starting to really show in his face and body, especially his body. Will could care less about the blue and purple bags under his eyes. It was the rest of him that was taking the brunt of his cocked up sleeping schedule. The nightly thrashing and straining resulted in sore, aching muscles the next morning, not to mention a foul mood. He did try to not take it out on his coworkers and students, and for the most part succeeded. Not that succeeding made much difference even. Students and faculty alike tended to give him a wide berth, save for Crawford and Bloom (although if it were feasible, he wishes Jack would join the aforementioned group just for a few days).

He should have known Jack would not do that, either out of duties to the job or, hell maybe even spite at this point. He looked up from grading when his office door opened to reveal…oh for fuck's sake. What does he want now? The vehemence of that statement was not hidden in his expression and Jack picked up on it easily.

"Relax, Will I'm not here about a case".

Well wonders never cease, Will thought waspishly.

"It's close to lunch and I wanted to run an idea by you."

Is that a request, Jack?

"I wasn't planning on taking a lunch break".

Jack leaned against the door frame, having not fully entered the room, something Will was rudely grateful for.

"I think it's an idea you will like, Will."

*snort* Uh-huh\

Against his better judgment, Will mentally decided if Jack was oh so graciously extending a break to Will, who was he to turn it down? Besides, Will's curiosity had been peaked. At 12:15 on the dot, Will retrieved his coat from the back of his chair and left with Jack to the academy's cafeteria, specifically the two-person table near the back of the cafeteria which Jack knew Will favored.

So far so good, Jack kudos.