Hannibal can barely keep his feet, his strength spent, his muscles weary from everything that's happened since dinner, last night yet so long ago. Yet collapsing right there in the hallway will not exactly make his muscles any happier in the long run, and he wants to take his lover somewhere comfortable, so they can be together and warm and tender. It was the other half of what he had envisioned for them once they reached their destination.

He hums at Will's words, and turns his head to caress Will's ear with his lips and breath. "Yes," he murmurs, then slowly steps back. His movements are as graceful and powerful as ever, yet Will is certain to notice the fatigue. That Hannibal is not trying to hide it is another testament to his trust in his lover. Showing weakness to a rival leads to losing control. Will is far from a rival.

Hannibal heads toward the bedroom, crouching first to retrieve the wine.

The bed is a large four-poster, and it has been made with silk sheets, a heavy down comforter, and plenty of pillows. Hannibal has had the option of using this apartment at a moment's notice open for some time now, and had hired a housekeeper to come in and ensure that some basic things were ready for his potential arrival. He puts the red wine on the nightstand and lifts the white.

"I shall put this in the refrigerator and fetch us a corkscrew and two glasses. Please, make yourself comfortable."