Will yelps into their kiss when Hannibal physically tears his shirt apart, and he thinks about those two buttons still on the floor in Baltimore, probably lost under a dresser, scattered to the corners of Hannibal's bedroom. He wonders if Jack will find one of them, if he'll think of it as evidence, another piece of the undeniable tableau he and Hannibal left in Hannibal's house when they fled. The memories of before collide with the present and Will groans as Hannibal strips his ruined shirt off him, then swiftly and efficiently opens his pants. Will stands on shaking legs as Hannibal kneels at his feet, unlacing his shoes, and Will braces a hand on Hannibal's shoulder as his shoes are then removed, his socks, and then the tangle of pants and boxers around his ankles, leaving him naked and hard.
When Hannibal stands again, entirely clothed in opposition to Will's nudity, Will thinks it could equate to an unequal power balance, but it doesn't feel that way. Will feels like a piece of artwork that Hannibal is admiring, one he itches to reproduce with graphite and fine paper, and Will feels heat bleed through his chest under the admiration. Licking his lips, he watches Hannibal look at him, and he wants to get Hannibal naked too, but he doesn't want to move and break the moment.
Finally, he reaches out with one hand, finds the lapel of Hannibal's coat and tugs him close, pushing the garment off decidedly but not in the same rush as before. He won't destroy Hannibal's shirt, the fine linen too strong and well made to rend the way Will's had, so he works the buttons as swiftly as he can, baring Hannibal's chest. Then he presses his hands between the halves of it, his palms finding Hannibal's chest and smoothing down it, feeling the coarse hair, strength and heat beneath it.
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Date: 2016-03-05 06:46 pm (UTC)When Hannibal stands again, entirely clothed in opposition to Will's nudity, Will thinks it could equate to an unequal power balance, but it doesn't feel that way. Will feels like a piece of artwork that Hannibal is admiring, one he itches to reproduce with graphite and fine paper, and Will feels heat bleed through his chest under the admiration. Licking his lips, he watches Hannibal look at him, and he wants to get Hannibal naked too, but he doesn't want to move and break the moment.
Finally, he reaches out with one hand, finds the lapel of Hannibal's coat and tugs him close, pushing the garment off decidedly but not in the same rush as before. He won't destroy Hannibal's shirt, the fine linen too strong and well made to rend the way Will's had, so he works the buttons as swiftly as he can, baring Hannibal's chest. Then he presses his hands between the halves of it, his palms finding Hannibal's chest and smoothing down it, feeling the coarse hair, strength and heat beneath it.