Hannibal is pansexual, finding beauty and pleasure and utility in sexual encounters regardless of sex or gender. There have been times when he's seduced men to prey on (or at times relieve them of) their fears of being homosexual. He enjoys exploring the dark recesses of the sexual mind, savoring the many ways that people are aroused, at times finding his own satisfaction in helping patients accept the depths of what society would call their own depravity. He finds beauty in that darkness, and encourages it to flourish, even (perhaps especially) when it results in such things as murder for the sake of constructing a skin suit to become the opposite gender.

For Hannibal, there are few times when sex is done without some utilitarian end. Occasionally he will indulge in desire. But in Hannibal's life, there have been three people he has truly loved: his sister, Abigail, and Will, and the former two were not sexual interests. Now, as he savors the sensations as he and Will move against each other, there is the strange feeling of deep-seated satisfaction of sharing this with his friend. He has not had an experience quite like this with anyone else, in large part because those anyone elses are interchangeable. Will is not. Will matters. Hannibal desires him, but it matters that Will desires him as well. Hannibal is taking his pleasure, but it matters to him that Will is pleasured as well, even when that pleasure isn't a part of a larger campaign of manipulation. Hannibal cherishes Will's presence, his touch, his desire, his regard. He wants to be united by what they do, their souls woven together in this consummation, this communion. Will is his, but he is also Will's, even when he is the one holding the tie around his lover's throat.

He allows their slow, grinding dance against each other to continue until they are both breathless and wound tight with need. Then he stops, steps back, and slowly pulls the tie from Will's neck.

"Remove the rest of your clothes and kneel on the bed," he orders softly.