[I'm so, so sorry this has taken so long. The end of last week
was a bit nuts and I'm just now getting the chance to catch up on
everything.]
Will takes a breath at Hannibal's words, and he knows they're true.
The idea of being away from Hannibal, separated for any extended
period of time, makes Will feel anxious, uncomfortable. It has nothing
to do with the worry of what Hannibal might do, a notion that's new to
Will. He's not afraid of Hannibal anymore, he's not considering the
ways Hannibal is manipulating him. His desire to be close to Hannibal
stems from his affection, his attraction, the shifting of his
obsession. He hasn't had enough of Hannibal, not even close, and he
doesn't want to be apart from him until that part of him is more
completely sated.
Will doesn't hesitate to take Hannibal's hand, and though his body is
aching, he feels like he walking to the bathroom in a euphoric haze.
He watches Hannibal as he fills the tub with steaming water, admires
the stretch and pull of Hannibal's muscles beneath his skin, and his
mouth waters anew. Never in his life has Will craved another person
the way he does this man, never has he felt a hunger, physical and
emotional, like he does for Hannibal.
The tub fills quickly, and Will is anxious to join Hannibal in it, to
feel Hannibal's skin, to bathe and relax and be close. He's exhausted,
bone tired, but the image of Will taking Hannibal in the water comes
unbidden, splitting his thighs and straddling Hannibal's hips, moving
until the blunt head of Hannibal's cock presses against him and then
in in in, deep and thick. They probably won't fuck now, they're both
too worn out for it, but the fact that Will thinks of it, wants it, is
new to him, telling and wonderful.
Sitting on the rim of the tub, Will drags his fingers through the
water, the heat causing goosebumps to rise on his arm before they
settle again. He turns his eyes up to Hannibal, waiting for direction,
to see how Hannibal wants them to arrange themselves in the bath.
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Date: 2016-05-16 02:02 am (UTC)[I'm so, so sorry this has taken so long. The end of last week was a bit nuts and I'm just now getting the chance to catch up on everything.]
Will takes a breath at Hannibal's words, and he knows they're true. The idea of being away from Hannibal, separated for any extended period of time, makes Will feel anxious, uncomfortable. It has nothing to do with the worry of what Hannibal might do, a notion that's new to Will. He's not afraid of Hannibal anymore, he's not considering the ways Hannibal is manipulating him. His desire to be close to Hannibal stems from his affection, his attraction, the shifting of his obsession. He hasn't had enough of Hannibal, not even close, and he doesn't want to be apart from him until that part of him is more completely sated.
Will doesn't hesitate to take Hannibal's hand, and though his body is aching, he feels like he walking to the bathroom in a euphoric haze. He watches Hannibal as he fills the tub with steaming water, admires the stretch and pull of Hannibal's muscles beneath his skin, and his mouth waters anew. Never in his life has Will craved another person the way he does this man, never has he felt a hunger, physical and emotional, like he does for Hannibal.
The tub fills quickly, and Will is anxious to join Hannibal in it, to feel Hannibal's skin, to bathe and relax and be close. He's exhausted, bone tired, but the image of Will taking Hannibal in the water comes unbidden, splitting his thighs and straddling Hannibal's hips, moving until the blunt head of Hannibal's cock presses against him and then in in in, deep and thick. They probably won't fuck now, they're both too worn out for it, but the fact that Will thinks of it, wants it, is new to him, telling and wonderful.
Sitting on the rim of the tub, Will drags his fingers through the water, the heat causing goosebumps to rise on his arm before they settle again. He turns his eyes up to Hannibal, waiting for direction, to see how Hannibal wants them to arrange themselves in the bath.