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Title: Overly Practical
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Will Graham/Sherlock Holmes
Fandom: Hannibal/Sherlock
Rating: PG-13
Table: 61, 5_prompts
Prompt: 3, Quit being practical
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.


He really should stop being so damned practical.

Will took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He didn't want to be here in his room, studying the papers that the realtors had given him about the sale of the house. He wanted to be downstairs with Sherlock, curled up with him on the couch.

But he had decided that it was better to be practical about their relationship, to take things slowly, to wait until they were in London to move things forward.

He could sense that Sherlock wasn't entirely happy about that, but he knew that the other man would wait for him and give him all the time he needed. Sherlock wasn't exactly experienced, either; they'd talked about that issue, about their mutual lack of experience with relationships.

Neither of them wanted to hurry things along. They'd both assured each other that they were content to take their time, to move forward cautiously.

Only now, Will wasn't so certain that he'd told the absolute truth about that. He found himself wanting Sherlock more and more, wanting to be with him, close to him, wanting to hold him and be held, wanting to kiss him over and over, until they were both breathless.

And he was fairly sure that Sherlock wanted that, as well.

So why couldn't he quit being practical, and just take what he wanted? Why didn't he get up, go downstairs, and do what his heart was clamoring for him to do?

He sighed softly, leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes. He didn't do it because he was afraid of making Sherlock run in the opposite direction if he was too aggressive, that was why. He didn't want to run the risk of losing what he'd so recently found.

He didn't think Sherlock would back away; he was convinced that his newfound boyfriend wanted him just as much. But he didn't want to take that chance.

Losing Sherlock wasn't an option. Now that they'd kissed, now that he knew Sherlock was attracted to him and wanted a physical, as well as an emotional, relationship as much as he himself did, he wasn't going to do anything that might jeopardize their future together.

He wanted this new life. He wanted to move to London, to live with Sherlock, to be involved with him. It was a second chance for him, one that he hadn't thought he would get.

That chance was precious to him. He wouldn't turn away from it.

Would being closer to Sherlock now jeopardize their future? Will didn't know, but he didn't want to take the risk that it might. That future was too precious.

It also felt somewhat precarious, as though it hung in the balance. He wanted to be practical about that future, and not take any chances with whether or not it would work out. Because once he made that leap from Wolf Trap to London, there was no turning back.

He was burning his bridges here. There would be nothing for him to come back to if things didn't work out with him and Sherlock. He was leaving Wolf Trap, and the FBI, for good.

It was terrifying to think that once he'd cut the cord by selling the house, there was no coming back. He was leaving behind all that had been his refuge for years.

Turning his back on what had once been his safe haven, his place of peace, was one of the hardest things he had ever done. But it was time to say goodbye to that phase of his life; there was nothing left for him here, and each day proved that more and more.

No one here seemed to care that he was leaving; in fact, they had all been conspicuously silent, as if they all wanted to go, to become a relic of their pasts.

They acted as though he was an embarrassment to them.

Well, that was fine with him. If they wanted to act as though he had never been their friend, then that was their right. Maybe they never really had been his friends.

After all, none of them had lifted a finger to try to prove his innocence; they had all just gone along with Jack and Hannibal, acting as though they believed in the myth of his insanity, as though his friendship was now a source of embarrassment in their lives.

It was only practical of him to move away from this, to distance himself from a past that couldn't be part of his life any more. It was time to leave, and not look back.

But maybe he was being overly practical in thinking that he and Sherlock should wait to be together as a couple until they got to London and were living together, starting their new life. They were pretty much living together here and now, weren't they?

Will had to laugh at himself; he was being silly, really. There was nothing to keep him and Sherlock from being together. They were two adults who could make their own decisions about their lives.

And his decision was to be with the man he loved.

It was time for him to quit being practical, to throw caution to the winds, and to be more adventurous with his life. He'd spent far too much time holding back, not going for what he wanted, being quiet and hovering in the background. He was through with that.

He was moving to London, starting his first real relationship, and moving into a whole new phase of his life. A life that he couldn't wait to begin living.

So why not start living it here and now? There was nothing to stop him from doing just that; he was sure that Sherlock wanted that life to start for them just as soon as he did. He would be welcomed with open arms and a smile -- and an open heart. He had no doubt of it.

The time for being overly practical was past. It was time for him to spread his wings, to let himself soar, to fly on the winds of a new life, a second chance.

Will got to his feet, putting his glasses back on and pushing his chair back. There was no reason for him to be up here alone when Sherlock was downstairs, waiting for him and probably wanting his company. He was done with being overly practical.

To hell with practicality. Tonight, he was going for what he wanted.