When Hannibal is on his knees he gazes up in admiration, love and lust at his lover, so beautiful in his nakedness. He lets his gaze caress Will, from his feet slowly up to his forehead, taking in every line and curve and light and shadow. When he rises he locks his eyes on Will's and runs his fingers lightly up and down his side as Will unbuttons his shirt. He draws in a breath as Will smooths his hands down Hannibal's chest, smiling at his friend, his lover. Slowly he removes his own shirt, letting it drop forgotten behind him, and reaches up to tenderly cup Will's cheek as Will explores his chest. He finds it intriguing that things have slowed down, that their lust is manifesting not as a conflagration but rather as a slow burn. It is indicative, he feels, of the admiration, affection and love between them, that they want to fuck each other, yes, but just as strongly they want to know each other. Know each other's bodies, minds, hearts, souls.

He lets Will decide where to go from here, if he wishes to strip Hannibal the same way Hannibal stripped him, or if he has something else in mind.