Will isn't expecting Hannibal to return his feelings quite so effusively, at least not verbally, and it makes something possessive and proud flare in Will's chest. Hannibal has the ability to have anyone and anything his heart desires; as a master manipulator with a well augmented toolset all he really needs is time. Even Will was a product of that, at least at first. Now Will knows it's that Hannibal no longer has to manipulate him that makes Hannibal so drawn to him, that has allowed Hannibal to peel back his fallse face and show Will what really lies underneath. The fact that his true self embodies much more than darkness and evil is what has begun to utterly ensnare Will.
When they stop (after Hannibal's had a moment to appreciate Will visually, taking in his slight nervousness but obviously unaffected desire), Hannibal shows Will his table, and Will has a feeling that if he went into any of the flats in the same block Hannibal's is in he wouldn't find a single other kitchen with a table as large as the one Hannibal has here. For the unaware it would come off a bit extravagant, and though it fits quite well in the space, it might appear needlessly massive for an apartment in the heart of Paris.
Will swallows, and he thinks about who else might have been on this table, and what state they might have been in, and he finds himself tasting the bitterness of jealously in every scenario he conjures. Licking his lips, he meets Hannibal's eyes, seeing the glint of mischievousness there, and he can't help the was his own slight smile surfaces in response. He glances back to the table, bare but elegant in its empty state, and while he's going to find himself laying on it like a slab in a mortuary or an operating table, the idea doesn't leave him feeling anxious or cold. In fact he finds himself thinking about the surgery Hannibal will eventually perform on him, taking his kidney, the thought of that and of the sex they're about to engage in coming together in Will's brain and making him flush.
There isn't a graceful way to get onto a table clothed, and Will finds the act even less graceful while naked, having to sort of pull himself up backward with his arms to sit on the surface. His naked skin sticks to the finish, so moving to center himself isn't a sexy display either, but he has a feeling Hannibal would need to see something pretty unpleasant to ruin the mood for him now. Will stays seated for the moment, nude in the middle of Hannibal's table like some kind of living art centerpiece, thighs splayed and cock mostly still hard between them.
"Are you going to prepare me now?" Will asks, unable to resist the double meaning.
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When they stop (after Hannibal's had a moment to appreciate Will visually, taking in his slight nervousness but obviously unaffected desire), Hannibal shows Will his table, and Will has a feeling that if he went into any of the flats in the same block Hannibal's is in he wouldn't find a single other kitchen with a table as large as the one Hannibal has here. For the unaware it would come off a bit extravagant, and though it fits quite well in the space, it might appear needlessly massive for an apartment in the heart of Paris.
Will swallows, and he thinks about who else might have been on this table, and what state they might have been in, and he finds himself tasting the bitterness of jealously in every scenario he conjures. Licking his lips, he meets Hannibal's eyes, seeing the glint of mischievousness there, and he can't help the was his own slight smile surfaces in response. He glances back to the table, bare but elegant in its empty state, and while he's going to find himself laying on it like a slab in a mortuary or an operating table, the idea doesn't leave him feeling anxious or cold. In fact he finds himself thinking about the surgery Hannibal will eventually perform on him, taking his kidney, the thought of that and of the sex they're about to engage in coming together in Will's brain and making him flush.
There isn't a graceful way to get onto a table clothed, and Will finds the act even less graceful while naked, having to sort of pull himself up backward with his arms to sit on the surface. His naked skin sticks to the finish, so moving to center himself isn't a sexy display either, but he has a feeling Hannibal would need to see something pretty unpleasant to ruin the mood for him now. Will stays seated for the moment, nude in the middle of Hannibal's table like some kind of living art centerpiece, thighs splayed and cock mostly still hard between them.
"Are you going to prepare me now?" Will asks, unable to resist the double meaning.