As Will pulls his zipper, his large, aroused member is taken into Will’s mouth, and he shivers, oh he’s been wanting this ever since don’t psychoanalyze me. He pulls on Hannibal’s belt, and the cannibal, he only closes his eyes in preparation.
He clings to the taste, as he begins kissing Hannibal’s neck, and he tastes the salt of a bruise, Will kneels. He takes hold of Hannibal’s arms and kisses him, searchingly, longingly, sadly, and he does not stop, he goes on, very tenderly, until he feels that Hannibal’s ache is his own, they ache in tandem, like a long, slow chord on a broken piano.