It's just three blocks, but as torturous as it is it feels like three thousand, like they have to cross the entire width of Paris. Hannibal takes the walk at a steady clip, ignoring the discomfort of the tightness in his trousers, ignoring any looks from passersby. It's late afternoon, and the Parisians are going about their own business, as they are wont to do, so the likelihood that anyone will pay attention long enough to notice his increasingly obvious arousal is low.

When they reach the building Hannibal pulls a set of keys out of his pocket, unlocks the front entrance, and holds the door for Will. The building is from well before the time of elevators, so there's a four story climb to get to the top floor. Hannibal would take the steps two at a time were he not dragging a suitcase. Again, it feels like forever, like the staircase winds up into infinity. But finally, finally, they reach the top. Hannibal's hands are still miraculously steady as he unlocks the door, opens it, strides in just far enough to allow Will to enter. Then he drops his suitcase, sets the wine down, closes the door behind Will, grabs his lover's face, and crushes his lips to Will's.