Will's intentions and desires are clear, and Hannibal gladly presses himself down along the full length of his lover's body. The physical reality of the two of them so close together that they may have difficulty telling where one stops and the other begins is an appropriate parallel with what has been happening to their minds, their souls. Hannibal imagines what it would be like to physically meld with Will, their bodies melting into each other, becoming one flesh, ebbing and surging like water, an indistinct yet graceful collection of skin and bone and hair and teeth, and from that primordial substrate there arises a dark god, who stretches his arms of destruction and opens his eyes of flame.

Hannibal curls a hand under Will's neck, holding on as he continues the deep kiss, continues devouring his lover, while with his other he takes hold of Will's thigh and draws it up, pressing it back and to the side, opening him up. Without his lips leaving Will's he shifts, so his cock slides beneath Will's cock, beneath his scrotum, and nudges up against Will's entrance. The angle is wrong to enter at the moment, but the intention is clear.