The way Will's body is rippling beneath Hannibal is exceedingly arousing, and Hannibal can't help a low groan as he kisses Will again, the sound vibrating deep in his chest and finding resonance in Will's. Self-control, and, when necessary, self-denial, is an important thing for Hannibal, finding pleasure in doing what is most aesthetically pleasing at the exact right moment, such as killing for the sake of his elaborate dinner parties, stringing rude people along until the right moment to transform their existence into something beautiful. However, the need to do something so immediate is not unheard of...for instance, while killing Beverly Katz had been a regrettable necessity, he had taken great pleasure in her display, honoring her in a way by making her beautiful, insides and all.

Now, he believes, is one of those moments of urgent necessity. The beauty is not in self-restraint but in letting the moment blossom into something incredible and precious.

"A more natural choice for lubrication," he murmurs against his lover's lips, and smiles. "Indeed, arguably Greek in origin. Do you wish to stay here while I fetch the olive oil? Or do you wish to accompany me to the kitchen?"

Will staying will take more time, and sex there will almost certainly ruin the sheets. Going to the kitchen, however, would open the possibility of sex right there, on the preparation table, rubbed with olive oil, knives and cleavers and mallets so close at hand...

Again he kisses Will, tasting him and the wine and imagining how the olive oil would complement it all.