It's a moment of incredible trust between them, each of them the lion tamer, each of them the lion. Will could asphyxiate Hannibal, hold him there until his lips turn blue, until he loses consciousness, while at the same time, Hannibal could bite down, shear through flesh, corpora cavernosa, corpus spongiosum. The sudden blood loss would likely cause his lover to collapse, at which point Hannibal could easily move on to the femoral artery. The thought of either possibility is achingly arousing, and Hannibal reflects, even as his hands begin to tremble, as tears come unbidden to his slightly bulging eyes, how curious it is that for most, love depends on the safety the parties find in each other. Not so with them. As Hannibal's vision begins to grey at the edges, he knows that he loves Will fiercely precisely because he knows that Will is perfectly capable, in every way, of ending his life. And because Will knows the opposite to be true, and his heart is likewise aflame with that knowledge.

Then Will's cock is out of his mouth, and Hannibal sags slightly as his lungs reflexively expand to suck in as much oxygen as possible. he leans forward and rests his forehead on Will's hip, his hands again settling lightly on Will's ass. He takes a couple breaths, enjoying the feeling of oxygen being reintroduced into his blood, his muscles, his brain. It's intoxicating, an aphrodisiac well known in medical literature, and one that makes Hannibal remember the night that Will's cat's paw hanged him. He remembers that first gasp after his rescue, the knowledge flooding in that Will had tried to kill him, and feeling only a deepened ardor for his friend.

He lifts his head to meet Will's eyes, his own burning with love infused with lust. His lips part slightly, and without his eyes leaving Will's he slowly brushes them back and forth against the head of Will's cock, waiting for his next move.