He was so ashamed of himself, of his body. Angry tears filled with embarrassment started to roll down his cheeks when he felt the obscene way his pants stuck to his butt and thighs as he moved. To his horror, he must have said some of this aloud because a few seconds later Hannibal began to speak while he did his belt buckle. "Don't ever be ashamed of yourself or your body, Will. What your body is doing is a beautiful thing. A natural cycle of life." He said in a firm tone. Will felt a sob clawing at his throat so he clenched his jaw closed and held his breath to prevent it. He nodded, not knowing what else to do. Hannibal had no idea that he dealt with this four times a year. They'd never talked about anything heat related during their sessions, not yet anyways.

"Is it going to last?" The older man asked softly as his eyes turned into light when crashed with the dark depths of ocean waters; when splashed by that enormous wave of blueness he had come to adore so much. "You?" The brunet enquired with a crack in his voice, which could be a sign of meaningless quavering or a thunder hidden underneath the crack, waiting for a friendly storm in his awakened darkness. "You and I. The continuum of your crime and my time of dying," Hannibal answered quietly.