Will closes his eyes and all but falls into Hannibal's embrace, his hand moving from between Hannibal's thighs so he can wrap his arms around Hannibal's middle, holding on. He doesn't realize how hard he'd been shaking until he can feel himself trembling against Hannibal's solid frame, can hear his breath rushing out of him in little bursts. He forces himself to slow his breathing, his chin hooked over Hannibal's shoulder, and he doesn't move to shift back until he feels much calmer, only moving enough that he can find Hannibal's eyes.

"What are our options?" he asks, and though the more intense desperation feels assuaged, Will still aches everywhere with how much he wants Hannibal, how much he needs him. Desire is coiled all through him, twisted tight around his guts and making his skin feverous, his blood running hot in his veins and causing his heart to thud heavily in his chest. He can feel Hannibal's pulse too, equally demanding, his blood calling to Will, begging for him.