Will knows there's beautiful, amazing things around him, churches and gardens, an entire gorgeous city he's never seen before, but all he can focus on is Hannibal's back as he leads them to his apartment, his shoulders tense as he walks as quickly as he can. They're both exhausted, short on sleep, their muscles stiff from their rough coupling followed by hours of sitting in cars and on the plane, hindered by the physical expression of their building desire.

Will is envious of the steadiness of Hannibal's hands as he opens the doors between them, first the outer entrance and then the one to the flat, both of them breathing hard from the four stories worth of stairs in between, his own shaking with desperation, his legs trembling too. But he's imbued with sudden strength as soon as Hannibal shuts and locks the door between them and the world, and he catches Hannibal as he lunges, his hands catching the front of Hannibal's shirt in tight fists as Hannibal drives his back into the door, kissing him deeply, forcefully, all those hours of forced distance fueling them both.

Will growls into the kiss, yanking Hannibal impossibly closer, his mouth and lips aching already from the fierceness of their kissing. Their teeth collide, their lips and gums pinched and bruised, and Will can't control the sounds coming from him, animalistic grunting and deep, soulful moans, his entire body spilling over with desire, with lust and love and want and need, his fingers grasping at every part of Hannibal they can reach now, groping him through his clothes.