Hannibal can see the flush in Will's cheeks, the way his lips are swollen, can feel the heat of his palm, can smell his arousal and hear his heart beating. He knows his lover is achingly hard even though he cannot see his cock very well from his position. He is looking forward to his turn of examination, experimentation, of looking and touching and smelling and tasting. He imagines Will tied down and helpless as Hannibal takes his time, exploring every inch as Will writhes in pleasure.

"I imagined something quite similar," he answers, still stroking Will's hair as Will stroked his cock. "I expected the fire that's been burning in the two of us to consume us, right here, right now."

His smile grows, sharpens, his eyes go dark, and he curls his fingers into Will's hair, drawing it into a tight fist.

"It still can," he says in a low purr.