After they'd acquired the car back from the surprised and slightly flustered valet, the ride back to their home, while short, seemed to last a long time to Will. He didn't say much and neither did Hannibal, seemingly frozen until they could resume with each other in the familiar place, where they could touch and freely be.

It was difficult, Will found, not to be touching Hannibal in the car, though once they were on the road, Hannibal's hand came off the wheel to rest between them, open for touch with his palm to Will, as if he knew what the other needed, as if he needed it too. Will took the hand and twined their fingers together, rubbing his finger over the metal of Hannibal's ring as he looked down at their hands, resting them over the center console.

He watched the profile of Hannibal's face openly, the hint of a smile in the man's eyes as Will squeezed his hand settling warm in Will's stomach.

"Will you keep in on? After tonight, I mean."

Hannibal's hazel tinted eyes glanced over at Will. "Of course," he answered, "I never want to take it off, Will."

He smoothed a thumb over Hannibal's knuckles. "Neither do I."

That was all they had spoken out loud to each other in the car, the warmth between them growing though it wasn't long until they were back to the house and out of the car, and when they arrived back at the door it was Will who grabbed onto Hannibal's hand first, leading them inside the house, down the hall and towards their bedrooms in unspoken agreement.

"Would you like my room or yours?" Hannibal asked.

"Yours," Will responded and they slipped inside the room.

Will loosened his own tie as they crossed the threshold to stand in front of the bed, Hannibal facing him as they stood there, fiddling with one of his sleeves.

Will chuckled, reaching out to hold one of Hannibal's hands in his own, looking down at it as he carefully undid the cufflink from the fabric, before he moved to take Hannibal's other hand and do the same, the man easily compliant with Will's gentle, non-intrusive touch.

"What is funny, Will?"

"This is just where we started the evening. Nervously fiddling with each other's clothing in your room. It's only the opposite direction now."

He savored Hannibal's soft and deep chuckle in response. "I suppose it is. The evening is… filled with many surprises. You are always surprising, Will."

Will looked up at him, saw the look again, on his face, the one that always halted his breath and saw Will as the most marvelous thing he'd ever experienced in the universe, that Will could never comprehend.

He shook his head. "I'll try to take that as a compliment."

He leaned up to kiss Hannibal again, slow and deliberate drag of lips because they were allowed it now, and he felt Hannibal's hands come up to rest against his back and keep him close. There was no hurry now, with each other. There was no one else here, nothing stopping them or hurrying them, no games or denial, hidden secrets, morality of society, avoidance of who they were or what they felt, no chasing each other around Europe or pact of silence holding Will back. This was only them, here together. They had scars to prove the previous, times they'd broken each other or been broken by others, internal or visible on the skin.

But now was a time for them to be together, finally, to be free. Past forgiveness and onto healing. Onto love. They could heal each other now, and love each other. They would touch each other with care, not with knives, not with intent to hurt or scar or deceive. And there was no hurry.

When the kiss was broken, Will stood back far enough to further untie Hannibal's bowtie, sliding it from his neck and placing it on a nearby dresser with the cufflinks. Hannibal's arms moved to allow Will to slide the maroon jacket from his shoulders too, before he started on the buttons of the vest, and then the shirt underneath it.

As soon as the skin was revealed and the shirt discarded, Will's hand smoothed down the front of Hannibal's chest, feeling his sudden inhale as the fingers first touched the warm skin and as they brushed past his nipples, exploring down the soft peppering of hair along his abdomen, the muscles that he knew Hannibal had worked back again, after his recovery. He realized somehow that he hadn't thought of it recently, the fact that Hannibal was a man; it seemed to have gone to the end of some list, the fact that anyone might be in love with him in the first place in the forefront. That it was a man who loved him, a man who Will loved, hardly mattered now. Hannibal was different in every other way to anyone Will might have been with, whatever attempts at normalcy or relationships he'd tried before or embarrassing one night stands. He was so much more, infinitely so. Will didn't see why he shouldn't be different in this way too.

Will's hands wanted to touch everywhere and they smoothed over his soft stomach too, gently ghosting over the ugly scarring where the Dragon's bullet had gone through, each touch earning him a different hitch of soft breath.

"It does not hurt anymore. It is only a reminder of the past, something to make it real," Hannibal was saying then and Will looked back up to his gaze.

Soon Hannibal's hands had cupped the side of Will's jaw, a thumb smoothing across the crooked and gaping scar across his face, his eyes too deep with admiration. Will's eyes closed as Hannibal's face came closer, as gentle kisses were pressed against the scarred tissue and his breath stopped in his chest for a fraction of a second. He knew that was why he always stared at the scar, aside from its ugliness, how he in some way hated it. It was because of the memory, because of that moment to end all moments.

"You're so beautiful," Hannibal breathed like his lips had wanted to form the words for too long, though they seemed impossible. So true, though, in Hannibal's breath, in the depths of Hannibal's gaze.

And then, "It's beautiful. That's what you said that night, about us together."

"I meant it," Will replied instantly, freed from so many confessions, his fingers curled against the warm skin of Hannibal's sides. "It was beautiful. It is beautiful. We were, you are."

He could feel Hannibal's breath stopping short, and then for a split second they were back in that moment upon the cliff, clinging to each other in quiet awe. Just as quickly they were back in Hannibal's bedroom.

Hannibal's hands reached up to slide off Will's tie. "It is your turn, then. May I?" he asked, his hands on the front of Will's jacket.

"Yes, of course. Of course."

Will's cufflinks, his jacket, vest and shirt were removed with just as much care, and Will watched Hannibal's intent face as the other man did so, studied how softened his sharp features had become as they focused on Will.

His lips parted in breath as Hannibal's warm hands, capable of much careful precision, rubbed over his skin, though it seemed Hannibal had a different way of admiring Will's chest, and Will felt his pulse race as Hannibal's lips pressed to the scarring on his shoulder gently, as he peppered kisses across Will's collar bone. He felt the warm lips press lines down his chest as Hannibal kneeled to do so, worshipping Will with the soft kisses.

He only stopped as he reached Will's stomach, extra gentle there as he kissed along the scar there, nuzzling against the skin above it almost as if in apology, and when he paused and looked up at Will, the corners of his eyes were wet.

It was difficult for Will to respond anything then, overwhelmed by the depth of the intimacy, so achingly tender, that he could at first only smooth his fingers through Hannibal's hair where the man had crouched before him.

"I forgave you. I still forgive you," he assured him once his voice could be found, certain of a need within him to assure Hannibal, to possess him and comfort him. "It's my favorite, which you gave me," he told him, bringing Hannibal slowly upwards so that he could kiss him again, on the lips and on his cheek where he kissed away a tear. Hannibal's hands gripped around his sides tightly.

"I chose you now, and I have you now," he said as if he could feel Hannibal's insecurities, his arm curled around Hannibal's back, fingers moving gently against the place where the Verger brand still marked him, sensitive and surely irritated tissue that Will rubbed, vibrations much like a purr coming from Hannibal.

Will had never felt this before, the intimacy, the craving for touch, something he'd never though he'd want, had never wanted before Hannibal came along. None of this was anything he thought he'd ever get to have, no one could touch him or look at him the way Hannibal could, when Hannibal knew him and saw him, connected with him. He needed it and he wanted it all now, but just then he wondered, he felt, how much Hannibal needed it, as it was the same as his need.

How long had it been since he'd been touched, without clinical or malicious intent, in his years in prison, with anything close to care or intimacy? How long had he wanted this (as long as Will had, the whole time, he might know as the answer), had he craved Will, being known and understood by Will? Had he thought Will wouldn't return what he needed from him?

Will needed Hannibal to know how he felt, he needed to give that to him, give everything to him, to prove it all to him. It settled fiercely like a pillar within him, curling protectively around the place in his heart in which Hannibal filled, determined to give Hannibal his love.

"Anything, Will. Anything that you want, everything. Everything that I can give you, that I have, is yours," Hannibal offered.

"I want you. That's all I want. All I need. You," he told Hannibal as if it were the most obvious thing, his fingers curling around the waist of Hannibal's pants as he watched the man's gaze stare at him with quiet emotion. "You're mine."

Hannibal's hitch of breath, his name breathed in response like a prayer was all Will needed.

His fingers worked open Hannibal's pants as he kissed him, his lips along Hannibal's jaw and sucking gently against his neck until Hannibal's breaths became soft moans of desire.

"All I have to give you is myself, in return," Will breathed as he pulled down Hannibal's pants and allowed him to step out of them, Will slowly guiding them in the direction of the bed until Hannibal's knees hit the frame.

"Will…" Hannibal's look met Will's eyes, deep and blown-wide with answer to the unspoken question as he stood there in his underwear. He'd never heard his name spoken in such a way, like the syllable meant everything in the universe that was worth meaning anything to Hannibal.

Will wanted to give him so much that it overwhelmed him.

His hands couldn't quite pull down his own pants fast enough and he was hardly out of them before Hannibal's hands were on him again, pulling Will after him onto the bed.

Their lips dragged together and Hannibal's fingers mapped out the skin on Will's back, tangling through his hair and drawing out a small moan from Will, who broke apart, just for a moment, to settle over Hannibal and look down upon his face on the pillow, spread out below Will.

"I love you."

Had Will not said that yet? He only knew he hadn't the moment it slipped from his lips.

"I love you, Hannibal," he repeated again, more free, more himself than he had ever been. Nothing felt better than saying those words and feeling Hannibal's heartbeat over his palm, just as fast as Will's, beating with the same tempo, where Will rested his hand against his chest. "I see you. All of you. I love you."

Hannibal's fingers curled into Will more tightly as if Will could never be released and he wasn't able to respond with anything more, his lips parted as he looked up at Will, every emotion written in his face, open for Will to see and know, to feel and take.

He felt the man arch below him as he leaned down to kiss one of Hannibal's nipples, dragging his tongue over it and feeling Hannibal's fingers dig into his back and cry out, the response of his body as Will's other hand felt the muscles over his chest ripple something that Will could feel deep inside himself, something he wanted to feel more of instantly.

He gently pushed his teeth against Hannibal's other nipple to be given another moan of Will's name. He gave the same attention Hannibal had to him, kissing everywhere his lips could reach, memorizing every scar and curve, every taste of the skin. He gave everything he could, delighting in every moan, every breath and response of Hannibal below him, so beautiful in his unravelling for Will. It was like Hannibal was everywhere, only for Will to have and no one else and Will wanted to reach every part of him, to declare his devotion in every place that had been hidden beneath so many walls and layers that Will had breached and torn his way past, to reach inside and consume him, feel the man as a part of himself.

He kissed Hannibal's stomach slowly, feeling Hannibal's hands push through his hair, finding a grip there firmly as the skin quivered beneath his lips.

He was eager, though he wanted to savor the moment, one that he'd wanted, if he were to admit it, from the very first time he'd met Hannibal, more after he'd known him. He couldn't wait any longer, though and he gripped the elastic of the underwear, pulling them down as he sat up, straddling Hannibal's knees and lifting up his own hips to get them off and throw them from the bed.

His erection was free and thick up against his stomach, aching for touch. Will gave that quickly, his fingers wrapping around the shaft and experimentally sliding along the foreskin, as gloriously smooth as silk when his hand guided it and he watched Hannibal's hips jerk upwards from the mattress into his hand, obscene noises falling from his lips.

"Hannibal. God, you're so beautiful…" he murmured absently, testing the feel of his hand, foreign to him for only having touching his own before, but so easily learned with the active response of Hannibal's body, so good.

He couldn't resist tasting the bead of liquid that resting over the tip, dragging his tongue over it and wrapping his lips around the head, successive swipes of his tongue against it causing Hannibal to tremor underneath him, his hips trying to press upwards as Will's hand pressed him down.

"Will…" Hannibal warned in a breath of a moan before Will sucked down more of the length, the taste and scent of the man filling and overwhelming his senses as he swallowed, Hannibal's fingers pulling hard and pleasantly at his hair his own moan vibrating up, muffled.

"Will, please…" Hannibal implored him as his cock twitched and leaked in Will's mouth and he wanted to bring it deeper into his mouth, into the back of this throat, to taste his release there, but not now, reluctantly pulling away, his gaze focusing on Hannibal's flushed face above him.

He swallowed thickly as he was faced with the desire reflected back in Hannibal's face.

"Where?" he asked and climbed back up Hannibal, directed to the second shelf down on the dresser where he could pull out a small bottle of lube.

He stopped, as he returned to settle over Hannibal's thighs, kissing his cheek and then his lips, Hannibal's hand curled around his neck as they released soft moans through each other's lips.

"Mhm… hurry up, Will," Hannibal murmured into the kiss and Will chuckled lightly, smiling widely, elation running through his heated body, merging and melting with his deep emotion and lust, all interchangeable, all the same. All Hannibal.

"I will," he promised, opening the bottle and squirting a generous amount of the cold liquid onto his hand, covering his fingers. He urged Hannibal's legs apart carefully before positioned it, rubbing just gently across his entrance, not yet pushing inside but feeling the skin respond, Hannibal's sharp breath that caused Will's own breath to falter.

"… That is… not hurrying." The voice was breathless and low.

"Relax," Will responded back instantly, leaning back in to kiss Hannibal slowly as he pushed in the tip of his finger inside, slowly and carefully, wanting to do it all right, to give slowly and feel every small thing there was to feel. He felt the muscles inside tense and relax against him, respond to Will's touch as they corresponded to Hannibal's moans of pleasure, something so intimate in the way Hannibal allowed himself to be opened for Will, in the way they reacted to each other. He swallowed up every one of Hannibal's delicious sounds through his lips.

Soon, he could add another slicked finger, pressing in further and opening him deeper and deeper still, and he wondered, how deeply he could cause Hannibal to fall apart like this, with just his fingers, his answer in every shift of his fingers that caused another groan, another noise and responsive tightening of Hannibal's grip around Will. His fingers worked thoroughly and he curled them upwards until he found the place he'd intended to, brushing against the prostate, causing Hannibal to cry out suddenly, his hips pushing down onto Will's fingers.

"Will… Will, please, I need… More…"

"I know… I know," Will breathed, because he did know, feeling his own need rush through him as he pulled his fingers out, reaching quickly for the bottle again and slipping down his own boxers, not having realized how hard he had become, so focused on Hannibal and his pleasure that it had been forgotten until he poured more lube over his palm, slicking up the shaft.

Just as soon he was back over Hannibal, pushing his thighs far enough apart and resting his hands over his sides, met with another one of Hannibal's devoted looks, and he thought that he man had never looked more beautiful as he did then, spread out before Will with a soft smile and short of breath, a need for Will written in his eyes; not even when they were covered in the blood of the Dragon and of each other, perched at the edge of a cliff. That was only, he realized, the first moment of many, like this.

He lined himself up and pushed just the tip inside, gasping at the same time Hannibal did, both gripping each other more tightly as Will felt the warm head give around him. He pushed further, slowly yet without stopping, burying himself in it, in Hannibal until he was all the way inside him, for a moment after that, unable to move in overwhelming pleasure, in feeling, in everything all at once. It was almost too much. It was completion. He had never been complete until this moment, Hannibal everywhere around him and curled around him tightly, nothing but that feeling. Full and endless.

"Will…" Hannibal hadn't moved either, frozen underneath him, his world stopped in the same moment Will's had, the same world. Theirs, together.

Hannibal's quiet speech seemed to bring Will back, and Will's fingers reached for his cheek, cupping it and kissing everywhere he could reach. "I'm all yours, Hannibal. Yours," he breathed, and then, "You're mine."

Hannibal cried out as he pulled back to press fully back in, enveloped once again by Hannibal's heat, and he started a slow rhythm, every thrust deep and all-encompassing, wracking both of them with moans of pleasure that Will couldn't distinguish between them, all a swarm of their bodies connected as one, finally, together physically, like they'd been mentally, emotionally, spiritually, every way connected here into one moment.

Hannibal's nails dug and bruised at Will's back, his legs curling around Will's back to allow him to drive even deeper with the angle, and they both whispered and cried out each other's names, a mantra repeated between them.

Will felt every twitch, every convulsion as Hannibal's body writhed beneath him as if it were his own, attuned to him more deeply than he ever was before, in body and mind, and he increased his pace slowly but surely, angling his thrusts to reach the place that unraveled him. Hannibal broke apart so perfectly there, his moans turning to soft whimpers of Will's name as he licked and sucked and bit carefully at Hannibal's neck that craned back for him, claiming and declaring his devotion.

"Love… love you, Will…"

Will moved his head up to Hannibal's face, catching their lips together, kissed salty tears from the man's face, his own falling down onto Hannibal's face. "Hannibal, I know, I love you. Fuck—" It was difficult to speak, to think past the beautiful joining of their bodies, enough to say what he felt, all of it… "..So much… Love you so much…"

His hand moved between them, curling around Hannibal's cock and tugging with the rhythm of his thrusts, and it wasn't long before he heard the other man call out his name as his cock throbbed in Will's hand, spurting quick and hot, suddenly as his muscles clenched around Will, his fingers digging into Will's back hard enough that it hurt.

Will was overwhelmed with an ecstasy, an orgasm stronger, more satisfying than any he'd ever had before, his hips jerking forward in a final thrust as he spilled deep with Hannibal, whole, in that moment.

He fell forward then, dead weight against Hannibal as his head pressed into the man's chest, feeling it rise and fall with pants for breath, as he too tried to breathe again. Eventually, slowly, Will felt a hand running through his hair, massaging the skin at his scalp. He felt as if he'd ascended into some other place, where only he and Hannibal existed, sated beyond what he thought possible and with a relief, a peace that filled his very bones, that he'd never felt in all his life before.

He was himself. He loved and he was loved. Was that not everything anyone could ever desire?

After an unknown period of time, Will finally shifted, pulling himself from Hannibal with a small groan from the other man, shifting so that he tuck himself more comfortably atop Hannibal's larger frame, his arms around him loosely though he didn't move off of him, unaware of the stickiness that covered them both.

"You're mine now," he murmured, drowsiness around his tone as he tucked his head against Hannibal's shoulder, kissing the warmed skin gently as his eyes closed, blissfully exhausted.

"I always was, Will." He felt Hannibal's arms around him, a gentle weight to hold Will there atop him. "Goodnight, love."

"Goodnight… my husband."

He felt a slight pressure against his forehead, Hannibal's lips, before he drifted into a dreamless sleep, only aware of the warmth of the man surrounding him as they held each other, where they belonged, in each other's comfort.