After a moment of hesitation, Hannibal leaned over to press another light kiss to Seamus’s cheek. “Then I’ll get it taken care of tonight.”
Seamus jumped nearly a foot when Hannibal spoke, having not seen him approach. He was unhealthily thin, shadows in his eyes and hair oily and disheveled. The visible skin that nearly hung off him was marked with surgical scars, but he managed a small smile at Hannibal all the same. It shook though, eyes somewhere on his shoulder and clearly nervous of what Hannibal would think of him.
“Hey Hannibal. How you been?”
He tested the water with one hand, and, finding it was warm enough, plugged up the drain to start filling the bathtub.
"…Bath’s almost ready, babe."
He twitched with the kiss, but didn’t pull away.
He carefully set to pulling off his skirt and panties, feeling exposed and embarrassed as his abused body was revealed, some less than pleasant sharpie scribblings still visible on his flesh despite attempts to remove them. He hadn’t felt this ashamed of his body since he was a child.
He saw the twitch, and muttered a quick apology.
Hannibal watched, but not with any sexual intent, more like he was just observing. Though, his jaw did clench when he saw the words in dark, half-faded sharpie all over the redhead’s skin.
Gaze returning to Seamus’s face, Hannibal asked, “D’you want any help with bathing or you wanna handle it yourself?” It was the only reason he’d stripped down like this—though he wasn’t sure if that’d affect the other’s decision, so he didn’t say it aloud.
Seamus bit his lip nervously. In all honesty he wanted nothing more than to curl up in Hannibal’s lap and let the beast of a man protect him from harm, but those were his primal instincts and he knew it. His body registered Hannibal as /Alpha/. As safe. And the more human part of him was wary and calculating. He wouldn’t be able to clean himself fully without help and Hannibal had yet to do anything without good intention.
Finally he let out a soft whimper and took a few slow steps forward.