Hannibal's own visions are in some ways similar, imagining them moving together, their bodies smooth and slippery in the water, Will in Hannibal's lap, Hannibal inside him, holding him close and gently rolling his hips, the two of them rising and falling together in a slow, almost sleepy rhythm. Then the speed increases, and as their pleasure mounts, the water around them turns red, and Hannibal wraps his arms around Will, captures his lips in a searing kiss, and pulls him under, the water turned blood swallowing them with barely a ripple.

Hannibal smiles at the thought.

The soap is in a cabinet with a few other bathing necessities, and when Hannibal returns to the tub he's carrying soap, shampoo, wash cloths, and towels. He sets them aside and turns off the water, then climbs into the tub, eases himself down into the water and lies back. The water is hot and feels wonderful on his skin and weary muscles, and he sighs in contentment, then holds a hand out for Will.