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'What, my love, is that?'

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“What, my love, is that?” Hannibal asked as Will sauntered into the kitchen in nothing but an undersized conglomeration of wool spanning his chest, done up with three buttons in the center. The look on Hannibals face was akin to a cat presented with banana.

Their home range after their little Atlantic trip was a climate too warm for such garments and merely looking at Will had Hannibal near sweating.

“Lingerie. Do you like it?”

‘It’ was short, showing off Will’s midriff, and tight enough that the sleeves looked near to bursting as Will flexed his biceps.

“I believe you may be arrested for crimes against sheep. It’s rare to see such a neon shade of orange and green in that material.”

“Yes but do you like it?”

“It would look better on the bedroom floor, darling.”