Sinric closes his eyes and lets the vision overtake him. Overtake them both as he has no fear of letting Hannibal into the heart of him.

His body is no longer flesh and blood but liquid gold, textured like the skin of a snake. Just as Hannibal's is the black of blood in moonlight. He presses his breasts into Hannibal's hands, stretching his back as something swells under his shoulder blades, the skin distorting.