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Title: Where His Heart Leads
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Will Graham/Sherlock Holmes
Fandom: Hannibal/Sherlock
Rating: PG-13
Table: 9, 50ficlets
Prompt: 24, Gentle
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Hannibal Lecter or Will Graham, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.


Will hesitated for just a moment outside Sherlock's door, unsure as to whether he should follow through on this impulse and actually go in.

What if Sherlock didn't want this? What if he wasn't ready for them to be close? What if he would prefer to spend the night thinking about what had happened, and if he needed this time to ruminate on the case that had suddenly presented itself to them?

It might be better for him to go back to his own room, get back into bed, and try to go to sleep, and think about this kind of decision in the morning.

Will shook his head, annoyed with himself for overthinking.

It was now or never. If he didn't do this tonight, to bring himself closer to Sherlock in the physical sense, he might lose his nerve later on.

No, he wasn't going to do that. He and Sherlock would only grow closer as time went by; he was sure of that. But at the moment, he didn't want to be alone. He needed to be with the man he loved, to be in Sherlock's arms so he could feel safe.

With that thought in mind, he pushed the door open, entering Sherlock's room, his gaze moving directly to the bed, knowing that Sherlock would be there.

The other man sat up with a slight gasp, his pale eyes widening. "Will! What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice sounding slightly hoarse. "Are you all right? Has anything else happened?" Will could hear the worry in his tone.

He shook his head, hastily reassuring Sherlock that he was all right. "No, nothing else happened. I just .... Sherlock, I need to be with you right now."

There was no hesitation on Sherlock's part, not for an instant.

He held out his arms to Will, moving over slightly in the bed to make room for the younger man to slip under the covers beside him. "I don't blame you, love."

Will advanced towards the bed, sitting down and leaning against Sherlock. He felt those strong arms slide around his waist; within moments, his own arms were around Sherlock, and he was locked in a gentle embrace that felt warm and comforting.

He wouldn't have thought that Sherlock Holmes would be the sort of person who could offer such comfort, but he'd have been wrong about that, he told himself.

Some people might think that Sherlock was a cold man, but they would be so wrong about that. He was only distant with those that he didn't know; he wasn't the type of person to give his trust easily. But once he did, that trust was complete and absolute.

He was not only warm, but he was loving and considerate. He was gentle and strong at the same time, the kind of man that Will had always wanted in his life.

And now, he had what he had always been searching for.

Sometimes it was hard to believe that he'd gotten so lucky, yet hee he was, living in England, living with Sherlock, more deeply in love than he'd thought possible.

Sherlock smoothed Will's hair back gently, looking into his eyes. "Will, is something wrong?" he asked, his voice soft and gentle. "Well, I know that there's something wrong, of course. You were shot at. But is there something other than that?"

Will shook his head, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Sherlock's shoulder. "No, not really. I just .... needed to be with you. I didn't want to be alone."

Sherlock's hand was in his hair, stroking through the dark curls.

"I don't blame you for that," he said softly. "I didn't really want to be alone, either. All I could think of was how much I wanted to be with you, to hold you."

Will nodded, overwhelmed almost to the point of tears by those words. How could anyone think that this man was cold and distant? Sherlock was the warmest, most loving person he'd ever known; he was lucky to have captured such a heart.

He relaxed into Sherlock's embrace, comforted by their closeness, by the gentle hand that moved up and down his back, soothing him.

Going back to his own room was an impossibility now; he needed to stay the night in this room, in this bed, with Sherlock beside him. He didn't usually give in to this kind of weakness, but tonight, he just needed to be held, to know that his love was near.

If Sherlock didn't want him here, then of course he would go back to his own room, but he would do so with bitter disappointment in his heart.

He didn't want to move. He was right where he belonged.

"Is it okay if I stay here tonight?" he asked, raising his face to Sherlock's. Will was sure that he could feel his heart stop, just for a moment.

He held his breath, waiting for the words. When they came, he couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face, the leap that his heart took within his chest. "Of course you can stay, love," Sherlock whispered, his voice soft and loving. "As long as you need to."

Will closed his eyes, sinking into that gentle embrace, letting the comfort of being held in Sherlock's strong arms seep through him.

He didn't intend to go anywhere for the rest of the night. Or ever.

There was nowhere else that he needed or wanted to go. He was exactly where his heart had led him, and he was comfortable right here.

He didn't realize it when Sherlock turned off the light and settled down next to him; by that time, he was fast asleep in his boyfriend's arms, a smile curving his lips as he dreamed.