Hannibal watches as Will stands and sees the way Will's glutes clench, and he smiles, pleased that his lover is still feeling the physical effects of their sexual encounter. Hannibal knows that he is deep inside Will's mind, deep inside Will's soul, and he finds it pleasing, and not a little arousing, knowing that his seed is still inside Will's body, his lover's flesh bruised from the force of his claiming. Hannibal watches Will walk down the aisle for a moment, then takes a slow, deep breath, closes his eyes, and breathes out slowly, willing his alerted and aroused body to calm.

By the time Will returns he's breathing evenly again, his pulse again slow and steady, his trousers not quite so tight. He opens his eyes and accepts the glass...and that touch of Will's fingers makes his pulse quicken again. He lifts his glass to Will, his eyes deep with his own desires, the depth of his emotion, with Will deep in his heart and deep in his soul.

"To Paris," he says.