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Hannibal's silent. That's why Will enjoys spreading his lips apart- Although he hasn't grown accustomed to the taste of human meat of his tongue (but he has acquired a taste for Hannibal's meat on his tongue regardless), it's easy for him to ignore the sloppy aspects of their making out. Hannibal makes it an art, a delicate dance of touch and pressure, a way to make themselves lost in each other without ever leaving their zone of comfort.
Hannibal's an angry god, whether he wants to admit it or not. His complex takes him to desire Will in intricate ways- to possess both his mind and body. And now that he's fucked his mind so heavily, he proceeds to do the same to his physical form, to bend and twist his limbs and tangle them along his; they engage in a slow dance inspired by Chopin playing in the background, the sound focused and minding its own melody. The author's infamous Nocturnes wasn't conceived to be danced like this, but neither it was conceived for a man falling in love with another, and neither Will thinks of himself to have been born with the purpose of soothing a man-eater. He does feel like eating him up, though. In the romantic way.
"May I indulge myself with a request," Hannibal asks, expression not giving away what goes through his head. Probably something twisted. Will doesn't mind.
"Sure."
"Will," Hannibal takes the shorter man's hands and squeezes them in front of his chest, establishing eye contact. He swallows and holds his breath until the question goes out. "Will you be my partner?"
Will widens his eyes. "What?"
"Will you be my partner?"
"As in- Marrying you?"
Hannibal squints, "since when is this an appropriate way of asking anyone about marriage, Will. No. I'm talking about," the man signals between the two of them, "this... Partnership."
"We are already partners, Han, I- Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?" The word seems to give Hannibal displeasure. He sighs and looks away- Will thinks he's rushed and instantly apologizes. "I'm not sure I'm understanding- Perhaps not boyfriends, but..."
"Yes. Yes, boyfriends, Will." Hannibal pinches the bridge of his nose, "if that's why you might call it."
"Oh." Will's cheeks get pink and his breathing hitches. He fights to hide a flattered smile, tightening his face's muscles and looking even more excited about the situation.
"Okay," he breathes, faking a casual shrug.
"Okay?
"Fine with me." Will adjusts his glasses. "I thought it was implicit, already. I've been keeping myself to you all this time."
"Of course you have," Hannibal slides the back of his hand through Will's chin -he's seen him do it to his dogs- and smirks. "You're cute." It makes Will feel like clutching to him without letting go, so he does. He puts his head upon his shoulder, the one he leans on when things starts to spin too fast.
The blonde man runs his fingers through his dark locks, tousling his curls.
"You've been loyal to me all this time..."
"You leave me no choice." Hannibal's hand stops and Will looks up directly into his eyes. There's fire in them before he replies, "you're too handsome to be betrayed."
"A handsome boyfriend, at that."
They chuckle. Will's left smiling long after that.