The road that brought Will and Hannibal to this place is as twisted, gnarled, and bloody as the bodies Hannibal had created in what ultimately became his courtship of Will, and it's also as beautiful. Their feelings for each other are deep and complex, ever changing even in this moment, and despite the darkness they share, what they have is still a romance.

The second kiss they share is warmer and wetter and darker than the first one, Will's mouth pressing against Hannibal's with the weight of desire, the desperate need to connect, to merge, to consume. It grows harder and hotter in each second it spins on, their teeth clashing, little bursts of blood on their tongues from battered gingiva, lips rubbing and beards scraping, Will's hands gripping Hannibal's jaw with enough force to make his fingers ache.

But then, in the ebb and flow, it spins down, slowing, easing, and Will is shaking as he kisses Hannibal's lips gently, tasting and feeling, the raucous sound of their breathing the only indication of where they'd been the moment before. This is where Will begins undressing Hannibal, strong, sure hands pushing off his coat, working at the buttons down the front of his shirt, kissing in between the bare moments he needs to pull back enough to see what he's doing. Hannibal's chest bared, Will's mouth finds his throat, kissing and biting, hard enough to maybe leave marks, maybe not, only time will tell. But for now all Will can focus on is the heavy, steady throbbing of Hannibal's carotid under his lips, blood burning through the skin, feeding them both.