It takes an immense amount of effort for both of them to move away from each other, to stand under their own weight and walk toward the bedroom. Hannibal's gait is weary, worn, the last of his energy used up in their frantic coupling, and Will considers it a bald show of trust. Like an animal, Hannibal's not one to show his wounds, to allow anyone to see a weakness they might be able to use to their advantage. But allowing Will to see his exhaustion, the way his muscles are aching, he's showing Will his vulnerable belly, exposing himself utterly. He's even more exposed than naked now, and Will's heart squeezes under the implication, moved by this gift that Hannibal's given him.
Unlike Hannibal's bedroom in Baltimore, Will doesn't spend much time inspecting the one here. He glances around enough to see that it's just as elegant and beautiful as Will had expected it to be, lush and gorgeously decorated, but he doesn't focus on anything beyond the bed, his own weary body yearning for a soft, comfortable place to rest. There will be more than enough time to take it all in later, after they've had their wine and slept some; maybe he'll conduct a drowsy, post-coital survey from the bed later.
He turns to Hannibal when he speaks, offering to go to the kitchen to chill the white wine, to retrieve the glasses and the corkscrew while Will gets to relax. There's a very faint voice in the back of Will's mind, an old one that tells him it could be a deception, allow him to let his guard down, giving Hannibal an advantage. But Will pushes it away quickly; if Hannibal wanted to kill him, he wouldn't bring him all the way to France to do it. He knows what Hannibal wants from him, with him, and Will most certainly needs to be alive for all of it.
"Hurry back," Will tells Hannibal, his eyes moving over Hannibal's naked body, his abdomen spattered with the combination of their come (just as Will's is), his skin still flushed and a little dewy with sweat, and his expression is hungry and longing when it reaches Hannibal's eyes again. It's not that he wants more sex, not immediately at least; he just wants to keep Hannibal near him, not wanting yet to be apart for long.
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Date: 2016-03-11 07:19 am (UTC)Unlike Hannibal's bedroom in Baltimore, Will doesn't spend much time inspecting the one here. He glances around enough to see that it's just as elegant and beautiful as Will had expected it to be, lush and gorgeously decorated, but he doesn't focus on anything beyond the bed, his own weary body yearning for a soft, comfortable place to rest. There will be more than enough time to take it all in later, after they've had their wine and slept some; maybe he'll conduct a drowsy, post-coital survey from the bed later.
He turns to Hannibal when he speaks, offering to go to the kitchen to chill the white wine, to retrieve the glasses and the corkscrew while Will gets to relax. There's a very faint voice in the back of Will's mind, an old one that tells him it could be a deception, allow him to let his guard down, giving Hannibal an advantage. But Will pushes it away quickly; if Hannibal wanted to kill him, he wouldn't bring him all the way to France to do it. He knows what Hannibal wants from him, with him, and Will most certainly needs to be alive for all of it.
"Hurry back," Will tells Hannibal, his eyes moving over Hannibal's naked body, his abdomen spattered with the combination of their come (just as Will's is), his skin still flushed and a little dewy with sweat, and his expression is hungry and longing when it reaches Hannibal's eyes again. It's not that he wants more sex, not immediately at least; he just wants to keep Hannibal near him, not wanting yet to be apart for long.