Title: A Necessary Component
Author: angstytimelord
Pairing: Will Graham/Sherlock Holmes
Fandoms: Hannibal/Sherlock
Rating: PG-13
Table: Otherwordly Challenge, tv_universe
Prompt: Sapiosexual - One who is attracted to or aroused by intelligence in others.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Will Graham or Sherlock Holmes, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.


Sherlock glanced over at Will with a smile, enjoying the sight of his boyfriend ensconced in a rocking chair, lost in a book, his eyes avidly scanning the pages.

He loved seeing Will so relaxed, so at ease.

Or maybe he simply loved looking at Will, he thought with a soft smile. He loved everything about this man who he had so unexpectedly fallen for.

Here in the country, Will seemed far more at home than he did in London. Sherlock knew that he was getting used to living in the city, and that it would take a while for him to be completely comfortable there, but he thought that Will was adjusting well.

But this place was more like what he was used to, after living in Wolf Trap for so long. Sherlock made a mental note to come back here again.

He himself felt comfortable here, though that was probably only because he'd come here before when he had wanted to get away from the city. He used this place to think, to steep himself in peace and tranquility when he felt that he needed it.

Which wasn't often, he admitted to himself. But he would probably find himself wanting to share that peace with Will more often in the future.

And if Will enjoyed it, too, then so much the better.

He stole another glance at Will, wondering if the other man realized that he was being observed, but Will was entranced by his book, and didn't look up.

Sherlock smiled as he watched the younger man, relaxing when he realized that Will probably wasn't going to object to being watched, even if he knew that Sherlock was doing so. He so enjoyed seeing Will like this, watching him devour words on a printed page.

He was a sapiosexual, he told himself with an inner smile. He was attracted to intelligence, even more so than good looks, and Will had both in spades.

The intelligence shone through, melding with the beautiful face.

Was it the intelligence that had attracted him at first, or the pretty face? Sherlock wasn't quite which it had been; perhaps it was both of them.

He had been captivated by Will's good looks from the first; he couldn't deny that. It had struck him when he had taken his first good look at the young man just how beautiful Will was, the intensity of his blue eyes, the sweetness of his expression.

Such a beauty hadn't belonged in the dank, dark place that he'd been in at the time, which was one of the myriad of reasons that Sherlock had wanted to get him out of there.

He was only glad that he had discovered that loophole; that he'd found a way to free Will and erase all suspicion from his record.

Those latent fingerprints on the handmade fishing lures, though they had been somewhat blurry, had been proved decisively not to be Will's. Though there might be some people who still believed that Will had made those lures, Sherlock knew that he wasn't a killer.

No, that "evidence" had just been far too convenient, and in the end, he had made the FBI see that. They, too, had agreed that Will wasn't the culprit in these killings.

Of course, they had wanted to agree.

But Sherlock had made them see the light. He had known that he would do so, from the first moment he'd looked into Will's blue eyes and known that he was falling.

Even then, when he'd had to talk to Will from the other side of a literal cage, the young man's intelligence had shone through. There had been no holding that intellect back; it was in those eyes, in the steady gaze that he turned on Sherlock.

It was that intellect that had attracted him -- and, yes, aroused him as well. It was that intellect, combined with the beauty, that made Will so irresistible.

Such intellect didn't come along every day.

And very rarely was it partnered with the kind of physical beauty that Will possessed, he thought, looking over at his boyfriend again.

Beauty and intelligence -- it was a heady, potent combination. He had never thought that he would have anyone in his life who he could love like this -- and he would never have thought that the person he fell in love with would be so utterly beautiful.

Sherlock had always considered himself a sapiosexual person -- he had always known that if he fell in love, it would be with a mind, not a face or a body.

Though with Will, he had the best of both worlds. He had fallen head over heels for someone who had both the keen intelligence that Sherlock knew he needed to keep him entranced, and also a face and body that inspired .... well, lust, as well as love.

He hated to use the word lust, though. He considered, then amended it to attraction. Yes, that word definitely sounded a lot better.

Did he actually lust after Will? He hadn't really thought about it until now.

Yes, maybe there was a bit of lust mixed in with everything else, if he was completely honest, he told himself. But that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

Lust was only a component of the attraction he felt for Will, after all -- a very necessary component for a healthy relationship. They might not have become physical yet, but Sherlock had no doubt that it was going to happen, in time. There was no rush.

Yet something within him wanted more, wanted the physical side of what they shared to hurry itself along a bit. He was ready, and he hoped that Will was, too.

Maybe now that they were here in the country, it would happen.

That thought brought a smile to his face, one that he couldn't hold back. And in that moment, Will looked up and smiled at him -- and he could swear that he felt his heart turn over.