Will felt eternity in that moment. Felt it with every fibre of his being.
It wasn't the first time Will had drowned. He'd been drowning in the sound of Hannibal's voice for so long, he wondered if he'd ever known anything else.
Every word spoken had been more than a touch. It was a caress, a promise of something that may or may not be fulfilled in each encounter. Will knew from the first moment his eyes had met Hannibal's what he'd wanted, craved for so long. He saw it in all its clarity reflected back at him. Every dark desire ever harboured in his own soul. Hannibal had ripped those desires wide open with one penetrating look. Hannibal had been nature and in Will, had discovered the need to nurture.
Now, Will had done what once had been thought unthinkable and drowned in the scent of the kill, the sound of blood pumping through the air, finally free in the moonlight. The feel of its warmth sliding across his own cool, sweat-coated skin.
Will waited. Eyes locked with those of the Dragon Taker. Hannibal stalked towards him, their shared predatory instincts howling silently through the darkness, calling to each other. Hannibal reached down. Will's breath left him as Hannibal accepted it, and in fire and ice, drowned for the last time.