[ Will feels achingly, achingly raw. The stripped brand new feeling refuses to shift and he only continues to crack into higher and higher states of being overwhelmed. His eyes are wide and his pupils blown as he watches Hannibal take his fingers into his mouth, the blood disappearing from his fingers with quick, careful swipes of his tongue. He is so incredibly warm.
There is part of Will's quiet, animal brain that feels as if nature has broken. That he is a prey animal chasing after predator, that he is caught in the jaws of the fox and can only feel blissful relief. He should fight, maybe, or flight, as it were but he has spent so many years flipping between the two that instead he rather this. This moment of sheer pleasure, where even the leaking cut makes him feel nothing but aroused. He wonders if Hannibal can smell it and the thought makes him breath out a huff of laughter and he relaxes just so.
It's the amusement that makes him reply without thinking, without the crippling awareness for once -- ]
You won't lose me. [ As if their lives aren't hanging on a precipice here, like everyone else's. He realizes this at least and changes tack. ] The only way we part is death, Hannibal. There's no alternative option for us.
[ And he smiles, fond and sweet and showing teeth as his wet fingers touch lightly to Hannibal's cheek and his thumb brushes against the skin there. He is truly, truly happy with Hannibal. He is happy in nothing else but Hannibal, really. Everything else is either too insignificant for him to feel for anymore or an overwhelming misery that he won't let himself linger on. He has been torn in too many directions for far too long and thus he is grateful for this single devotion. He will do many, many things to keep it like this.
(Bedelia's voice pops up into his head again. You've just found religion, she spits. He feels cruel satisfaction in his gut.) ]
I'm the only one with the right. You're mine to possess in any way I see fit. [ He pauses and his mouth crooks again, selfish and possessive. ] It would be a shame not to savor you.
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There is part of Will's quiet, animal brain that feels as if nature has broken. That he is a prey animal chasing after predator, that he is caught in the jaws of the fox and can only feel blissful relief. He should fight, maybe, or flight, as it were but he has spent so many years flipping between the two that instead he rather this. This moment of sheer pleasure, where even the leaking cut makes him feel nothing but aroused. He wonders if Hannibal can smell it and the thought makes him breath out a huff of laughter and he relaxes just so.
It's the amusement that makes him reply without thinking, without the crippling awareness for once -- ]
You won't lose me. [ As if their lives aren't hanging on a precipice here, like everyone else's. He realizes this at least and changes tack. ] The only way we part is death, Hannibal. There's no alternative option for us.
[ And he smiles, fond and sweet and showing teeth as his wet fingers touch lightly to Hannibal's cheek and his thumb brushes against the skin there. He is truly, truly happy with Hannibal. He is happy in nothing else but Hannibal, really. Everything else is either too insignificant for him to feel for anymore or an overwhelming misery that he won't let himself linger on. He has been torn in too many directions for far too long and thus he is grateful for this single devotion. He will do many, many things to keep it like this.
(Bedelia's voice pops up into his head again. You've just found religion, she spits. He feels cruel satisfaction in his gut.) ]
I'm the only one with the right. You're mine to possess in any way I see fit. [ He pauses and his mouth crooks again, selfish and possessive. ] It would be a shame not to savor you.