Work Text:
His office smells of blood. Blood spilled, blood congealed, blood rushing. Hannibal's own blood is currently being absorbed by a bandage wrapped hastily round his thigh. Tobias missed his femoral artery, thankfully, so aside from keeping weight off of it and keeping it clean, the care for this injury should be minor. Blood, too, has bloomed over his knuckles. It strikes a stinging line over the bridge of his nose, drips from his mouth. Distantly, he thinks that he should clean that. Pull out his pocket square and dab at the crimson running down his chin. And yet, he seems to be frozen in place.
Two FBI agents. That was what Tobias had claimed. Standing there, his ear disfigured and his eyes filled with fire. He'd just killed two FBI agents. And in that moment, all he could think about was whether one of those dead agents was Will.
Will. His beloved Will Graham, taken from him before Hannibal could protect him. His grief spared no time for denial, moving swiftly and unwaveringly on to anger. He snapped Franklyn's neck out of sheer spite, petulant as he tried to hurt Tobias with even a fraction of the depth and severity that Tobias has hurt him. He would've liked to take his time with that man, truth be told. Make him suffer, in the way Hannibal was now resigned to suffer for the rest of his days. But he knew that the FBI would likely be hot on Tobias' proverbial heels, so he'd settled for a swift and brutal end.
It was more than he deserved, for taking what Hannibal loved most. It always was.
And much like his reaction the first time Hannibal lost something he loved, Hannibal is now motionless. Slowly turning numb, his fingers frostbitten and his stomach empty. He was braced for heartbreak to arrive any moment, to sink to his knees in mourning. To crawl back to his nest, peppered with Will's faded flannels and tattered T-shirts, and whine for his lover's return. The wave never hits. The catharsis that is meant to follow tragedy isn't coming.
Through a fog, he allowed the medics and crime scene analysts to tend to his wounds, check his status, poke and prod about his office. Unable to do much more, he sits. He feels as though he is waiting, but for what, he cannot say.
Jack Crawford strides in, then, eyes scanning the scene with his familiar air of analytical indifference. Hannibal tries not to bristle at the way Jack frowns at him, sizing him up. 'You did this?' he seems to ask. 'And what else have you done?'
Hannibal should be guarding himself. Fortifying the walls surrounding his psyche. Perhaps it helps his case, that he feels far too lost to feign composure. No truer indicator of vulnerability than vulnerability itself, after all.
He's forcing himself to maintain a certain level of composure, nonetheless. His and Will's affair was never made known to their social circles. It wouldn't do to show his true anguish, not when Jack viewed them as friends at best, doctor and patient at the least. He stares into the middle distance, forlorn, the scent of blood heavy on his senses. Blood, and sweat, and his own distress.
...Not just his own distress.
His eyes snap to attention, scenting the air more fervently. Blood, distress, and those blessed base notes of coffee and cedar drawing ever nearer. Hannibal swallows the whine perched in his throat, sits a little straighter.
Will. Beautiful as ever, and Hannibal breathes out a shuddering sigh of relief to see him alive. It wasn't a sight he'd hoped to see again. It takes everything within him to resist bringing Will to the ground where he stands, refusing to let him leave Hannibal's line of sight.
Will's eyes scan the room with a frantic speed, searching erratically. Once they land on Hannibal, though, they do not move again. There's a stilted quality to his movements when Will approaches, one that Hannibal recognizes as restraint. His strides are almost performative in their steadiness, crossing the office with an apparent lack of urgency. It's woefully transparent, at least in Hannibal's eyes, that Will wants nothing more than to break into a run, to close the distance between them as soon as is humanly possible. The corner of Hannibal's lips quirks upwards. Sweet boy.
"I was worried you were dead," Hannibal whispers. He's never been so elated to be wrong.
The sound that leaves Will is strangled. It puts Hannibal on alert all over again, for very different reasons. Will tries to disguise it as a sigh of relief, or a labored breath. It is a whine. Distinctly Omegan. A cursory glance in Jack's direction confirms that Hannibal is not the only one who recognized it as one.
Hannibal scents the air again.
"I... I was worried about you, too," Will replies, slurred.
His senses are still higher than his peers, Alphas and Omegas included. He often detects things that are fainter and farther off, giving him the upper hand where pheromones are concerned. He looks to Jack again, the agent's eyes still narrowed and fixed on Hannibal.
Evidently he has caught this first as well.
Will's distress is becoming sharper, sweeter. Betraying a desperate need to be soothed. If it gets much stronger, he'll have every Alpha in the room swarming him. And there will be questions— questions as to why Will has been so keenly affected. Not only that, but the idea of an Alpha coming near Will, his Will, makes Hannibal feel overwhelmingly territorial. No, this will go very badly.
He should send Will away, at least until the other agents cease milling about the office. Until the two of them can be alone, and Hannibal can soothe his darling boy for as long as it proves necessary. He wouldn't decline some soothing himself. Nothing sounds more heavenly than taking Will home, setting him in the center of Hannibal's nest, and bathing himself in Will's scent. Feeding him and pleasuring him and listening to him purr through the night.
"Tobias Budge killed two police officers,"
But they aren't at liberty to leave. They can't be alone together, as keenly as Hannibal may be yearning for that. Jack needs his answers, after all.
"He nearly killed an FBI special agent,"
Hannibal's lip curls upwards at that, a subtle snarl at the thought of harm coming to his dear Will. He manages to recompose himself a moment later, but the damage has already been done.
Will whimpers. His chin tips upwards, just slightly. His scent grows stronger, warmer. There's a dark sweetness blooming in the air, so potent that it coats the back of Hannibal's mouth. Like hot buttered rum in the dead of winter. It's a scent Hannibal knows very, very well. One that makes his mouth flood with saliva.
The bitter stab of distress still cuts sharp through the room, but Hannibal scarcely seems to notice the blood any longer, let alone the scents of anyone else in the room. It's becoming increasingly difficult to think of anything other than taking Will into his arms and giving him everything he desires.
Jack casts a hard look Will's way, and Hannibal wonders for a moment if their game is up. If Jack can see how Will's pupils have nearly swallowed his irises, how his breaths have quickened, the subtle flush that dusts his handsome features. In the end, he pays the interruption no mind. Passing it off as Will being fragile and anxious, perhaps. At once frail and unbreakable, whichever suits him for the moment.
"And after all that," Jack continues. "His first stop is to come here. To your office."
The implication of his statement is obvious. Jack thinks that Hannibal himself had something to do with this. That he knew Tobias, or had something that he wanted. Hannibal has a carefully calculated response prepared for this line of questioning, one that casts him as nothing more than a victim.
As luck, or possibly misfortune, would have it, he never gets an opportunity to respond.
Jack attempts to close in on Hannibal, to loom over him in a subtle intimidation tactic. It's possible that it would have been half-successful, but the attempt is undercut by a low, throaty growl that floats through the room.
Every eye in the office turns on the source of the sound. Will clears his throat, trying hard to dislodge the rumble in his chest. Hannibal brings a hand to his own mouth, smothering his proud smile at the show of aggression. He does so love Will's possessive streak, ill-timed as it may be.
Jack's brows draw into a tight frown, his nostrils flaring as the ever-intensifying scent of a furious, protective, Heat-addled Omega drowns the area. He coughs awkwardly, gaze flickering between Will and Hannibal.
"Will," Jack says, addressing him with forced casualty. Will doesn't look away. His eyes haven't left Hannibal's face for a moment. "Will? Will!"
Will blinks, swallowing hard as he startles himself from the miasma. "Hmm?"
Jack speaks slowly, evidently choosing his words quite carefully. "You've... had a long day. I can take it from here, I think it might be for the best if you headed on home."
Will lurches forward at the very mention of the idea, a fine sweat blooming on his brow. "No," he says immediately. "No, I'm not... I'm not going anywhere."
Jack sighs in exasperation, speaking in a low hiss. "I don't think you're in a state to help with this investigation, Agent Graham. I really think you should go get some rest."
"I'm not leaving." Will asserts, his voice textured with another weak growl. Hannibal scents the air again and tastes slick. Will is wet.
This is about to go very, very badly.
"I'm not asking you again—"
"Will," Hannibal interrupts, all false smoothness and gentle coercion.
Will's breath hitches noticeably when Hannibal says his name, his head tipping sideways in a subconscious display of his neck. Hannibal swallows the eager whine that wants so desperately to be let loose at that sight. He tries to maintain his composure. It's no mean feat to reign his desires into submission, though.
A matter of minutes ago, Hannibal had believed that Will was dead. That he would never again see that marble skin, those demure lashes, those Botticelli curls. That the warmth in his nest— the warmth that Will had fostered as easily as taking a breath— would go cold again. And yet here he stands, burgeoning Heat rich on the air and his fingers trembling with need. That need is mutual. Hannibal's own trauma has postponed a similar reaction until this point, but if Will's slick haunts this room for a moment longer, he'll be lost to it.
And so he forces himself to say, tenderly and with no harshness in his tone, "Perhaps you should rest in the waiting room, then. If you'd prefer not to leave just yet."
Both men seem surprised that Hannibal is taking this position, Jack much more pleasantly so. He chances a soft smile in Will's direction, evidence of his own wellbeing. "You could relax in peace until the others are finished with their investigation." His eyes flick downwards, to the thin gash across the back of Will's hand. An injury from Tobias' piano wire, Hannibal infers, and it makes him want to kill that man all over again. "Perhaps have someone take a look at that hand? I suspect you'll feel better once you've had a chance to decompress."
Much of it is half-true. Hannibal knows as well as Will does that he won't settle until the two of them are pressed together from scent gland to sacrum. Still, it seems that Will is of sound enough mind to pick up on the truth behind the sentiment. 'Be patient,' his words whisper behind prying eyes. 'And we'll be alone together soon.'
Will manages a weak smile in return, though every inch of him seems to scream in protest at the idea of separation. It almost seems as though he's about to acquiesce,
Until Jack Crawford makes the mistake of speaking.
"Yes," he says, closing the space between himself and the desk. "Don't worry, Will. I'll keep an eye on Doctor Lecter for you."
Ah.
Jack is an idiot.
What transpires next feels as though it plays out in slow motion. Jack lands a familiar hand on Hannibal's shoulder. It's a completely innocuous gesture, especially between friends. Will's mind does not perceive it that way. All Will sees is an Alpha laying hands on the Omega whom Will has chosen for his own.
And so, Will does what comes naturally.
He snarls fiercely, closing in to defend what is his. Jack takes a step back, having no interest in this sudden confrontation, and Will quickly inserts himself between Jack and Hannibal.
"Don't fucking touch him!" Will shrieks. The scent of his stress is reaching a fever pitch. His breaths are quick, shallow. Hannibal begins to fear he might hyperventilate.
A few analysts move to crowd Will, rumbling in an attempt to soothe. It won't work. Will snaps his teeth at an Alpha who draws a bit nearer than the others.
"S-stay away from me!"
"Will," Jack says, hands up in a placating gesture.
Will's panting gasps have begun to carry little half-whines on every exhale, high and helpless.
Well, that's quite enough of that.
"Come here, Will."
Will doesn't resist when Hannibal takes him in his arms, limp in his hold as he settles across Hannibal's thighs. The wound in his leg pleads for Will to move, and Hannibal ignores it.
Will shudders in relief the moment his face is buried in Hannibal's neck, eagerly rubbing his stubbled cheeks against his scent gland like he might die if he isn't coated in Hannibal's pheromones. He whimpers, pressing close and hiding from the other presences in the room. Hannibal shushes him softly before gently coaxing him out of his jacket, fighting a losing battle against Will's skyrocketing temperature.
The air in the office shifts immediately. The possessive pieces of Hannibal purr in delight at how obvious Will's loyalty to him is. How this needy, shivering Omega chose Hannibal and only Hannibal, over everyone else. He realizes, suddenly, how good feeling publicly chosen feels. Claimed, not by any Alpha but by Will.
Jack looks down at Will, then at Hannibal. He lifts a brow, but his expression is thoroughly unamused.
"Something you want to tell me, Doctor?"
Will whines softly, his arms weaving around Hannibal's back. He's still bathing in Hannibal's scent, and Hannibal feels his face flush when Will rolls his hips, grinding his now hard cock against Hannibal's own.
"N-Not particularly, no."
Jack sighs heavily. "Doctor Lecter—"
"Hannibal," Will mewls, hot tongue laving over his scent gland.
It should be no surprise, which call to his attention Hannibal heeds.
"I think that you should leave, Jack."
Jack balks at him. "Two men are dead."
"And I will be happy to answer any questions you may have for me in a few days' time, when I'm no longer needed elsewhere," he replies pointedly. He'd prefer not to become fully aroused in a room filled with people, so Hannibal flips their positions, lightly depositing Will into his desk chair. He prepares to offer Will his inner wrist, to scent him in a less intimate manner.
Evidently, Will is far too gone for such a compromise.
Hannibal bites his tongue when Will presses his face to his crotch, nuzzling at his half-hard cock. Were his trousers any other color, Hannibal is certain his slick would have created a visible stain by now.
Firm but not unkind, Hannibal pushes Will away. Will whines sharply, but leans into the palm against his forehead. Jack seems scandalized.
"Take your crew and go," Hannibal growls quietly. "Now, please."
Will's lips are parted, his curls damp. "Hannibal..."
"Everybody out!" Jack calls, admitting defeat at last.
-
Within a matter of minutes, the entire crew and both corpses have been cleared from the office. One particularly tenacious Alpha amongst them had to be physically dragged away, much to Hannibal's disgust.
Jack spared the two of them one last parting glance, shaking his head. "We're talking about all of this," Jack insists, gesturing to the place that had once been occupied by Franklyn and Tobias' bodies. "Once Will is... taken care of."
Hannibal tries to contain his ire. "Of course."
The moment the two of them are alone, Hannibal moves to stroke lovingly through Will's curls. When Will leans forward, Hannibal allows it, both of them groaning in relief when Will begins to mouth at the outline of Hannibal's cock.
"That's it, darling," Hannibal praises. "I'm here. Daddy's here."
Will moans around his cock at the use of that term, licking his length through the fabric of his trousers. He looks up at Hannibal through his lashes, flushed and flawless.
"I was worried about you, Daddy," he sighs, and Hannibal smiles.
"Sweet boy," he coos, gasping as Will continues to nuzzle his cock. "You know that I would never let anything take us apart. You needn't worry."
Will hums happily at that, his Heat making him lightheaded and agreeable. After a moment, he whines softly. "Han... I need you. Please?"
Hannibal drops to his knees in front of the chair, pressing a kiss to Will's temple as he goes, and begins to work at Will's belt. "Just lie back and relax for me, beloved. I'll take care of you."
The other man simply nods eagerly, pliant when Hannibal tugs his hips forward until he's barely in the chair. He helps Will shove his trousers down, along with his soaked underwear. The scent of his slick is overwhelming, his Heat clouding Hannibal's thoughts. The next moment his lips are wrapped around the head of Will's cock.
"Ah..."
Hannibal's hands squeeze Will's hips, rubbing soothing circles into them as he takes the length into his mouth. Will is large for an Omega. Still considerably smaller than any Alpha, but he may have been able to pass for a Beta. He's larger than Hannibal, at any rate, but it's no challenge to swallow his cock to the base.
"O-oh God, Daddy—"
Will's hips lift into the wet heat of Hannibal's mouth, seeking more of everything he provides. Hannibal pulls one hand away from the other Omega's hip, bringing two fingers to his dripping cunt.
A moan falls from Will's lips the moment Hannibal thrusts in, stroking his inner walls and prodding deep inside of Will's cunt. Will throws his head back, curls his fingers into Hannibal's hair. All the while, Hannibal's saliva is mixing with Will's slick and coating his hand.
Hannibal pulls off of Will's cock for a moment, and Will cries out before it lapses into a throaty groan. Hannibal's tongue laps at Will's folds, licking and sucking the excess slick from his cunt. Fuck, he tastes divine. He always does, but especially so right now. And his scent, Hannibal wants to find it on every breath for the rest of his life.
Whining helplessly, Hannibal returns to sucking Will's cock. His fingers have been avoiding Will's G-Spot until now, but he begins to massage it eagerly, much to Will's vocal delight. Hannibal bobs his head quickly, suddenly desperate for Will to come. He's needy, ravenous, empty—
Oh.
Oh.
Hannibal's lashes flutter, moaning as Will rolls his hips into his mouth. He inserts a third finger, pumping quickly and making Will shout and tense.
"I— fuck, fuck, don't stop! Please, Daddy, don't stop!"
The moment that the first taste of thin Omegan release hits Hannibal's tongue, he lets loose a high whine. His cunt leaks profusely in his trousers as Will's own slick gushes over his hand. Will's moans tip into outright screams when he takes his next breath, scenting a dawning Heat to match his own.
"Fuck fuck fuck! H-Hannibal, oh my god, yes!"
Hannibal hungrily licks the slick from Will's inner thighs once his orgasm passes, still lapping between his legs and high on Will's pheromones.
He surges upwards, catching Will in a fierce, sloppy kiss. Will moans into his mouth, shivering with pleasure at the taste of himself on Hannibal's lips. He licks at Hannibal's small fangs, shaking fingers curling tightly into the back of his shirt.
"Let me take you home, beloved," Hannibal pants, his mind fighting to stay clear as Heat begins to crest over him. "Everything you need, you shall have it."
Will delights in this, kissing him again and throwing his arms around Hannibal's neck. "Please," he says, and that's all Hannibal needs to hear.
-
How Hannibal manages to bring Will home safely is a mystery that he doesn't care to solve. He attributes it largely to his ironclad self-control. Any other man would have crashed into the nearest light post, with Will Graham squirming in the passenger's seat and leaking slick over the interior. Not Hannibal.
Though in truth, he hadn't faired much better than that.
His clothes are stained, his eyes dilated and his cunt dripping with Heat as he watches Will stumble into the foyer. Hannibal is quick to gather Will into his arms, the other Omega's strong legs wrapping around his waist as he bucks their hips together.
When Hannibal attempts to drop Will into the nest, Will refuses to be separated from him, tugging at his clothes and mouthing at his scent gland as if the wild need swirling in his body might be soothed by contact and pheromones alone. For better or for worse, Hannibal is indulgent. To a point. He remains in the nest as he undresses, discarding his soaked clothes among the dozens of blankets, pillows, sheets and garments that cover the area. Will hums happily when Hannibal removes his trousers, making no secret about his appreciation of Hannibal's wet folds and flushed cock.
Hannibal helps Will out of his clothes, the other Omega too deep within his stupor to do much on his own. Hannibal imagines he won't be far behind him, at this rate. It doesn't worry him. The two of them always manage to get by, when their Heats arrive at the same time or, like today, they trigger one another. They will get by again.
Hannibal kisses every inch of Will's fevered skin, running famished lips along his limbs and scraping sharp fangs over sensitive areas until Will is trembling and whimpering where he lies. He's irresistible, prone like this. Hannibal licks his teeth.
"Tell me what you want, sweet thing."
Will's eyes are so blown and glazed that it feels as though he's looking past Hannibal more so than at him, but he's certain that he has Will's full attention. His lips part, full and shining. "I... I need a knot, Daddy. Please."
Hannibal smiles. Presses a wet kiss to his lips, one that sends Will chasing him before he stands and makes his way to the closet. Will whimpers for his attention as Hannibal opens the black chest inside. Their sex life is as curious and explorative as the Omegas themselves, so the chest is filled with a variety of toys, tools and accessories. Today, though, Hannibal only has one thing in mind.
It isn't as if Hannibal and Will are the only Omegas on earth who have sought companionship with someone other than an Alpha. There are aids in production for people in their positions, particularly for people with Hannibal's budget.
Will whines when he sees the dark blue silicone come into view. A hollow sheath, made to mimic the length and girth of an Alphan cock. Rather ingenious, really, in its construction— complete with a knotting mechanism that can be triggered at any time.
Hannibal smiles smugly as he approaches the nest, gently fingering his own folds to spread the slick gathered there. Whereas similar toys may be secured by the hips, this particular one takes full advantage of Omegan anatomy. He presses the protrusion at the base into his cunt, sighing at the pressure it provides to his G-Spot. His muscles clench around it and hold the toy in place, leaving him free to kneel at the edge of the nest.
"Hands and knees, beloved. I'll give you exactly what you need."
Will happily obeys the command, spreading his legs wide and putting himself on display for his lover. Hannibal lets out a low, pleased rumble at the show of submission, one that sends a shiver up Will's spine and a fresh gush of slick between his thighs. Hannibal grips his hips, teasing the toy over Will's cunt and coating it in slick before nudging at his entrance. Will huffs indignantly and tries to press closer, and Hannibal simply tuts in disapproval.
"Be good, Will."
Will sighs, and Hannibal can just picture him biting the pillowcase where his face is buried. His voice is muffled and strained when he says "Yes, Daddy."
Hannibal smiles. "Good," he says, and presses in.
It's something akin to torture, fucking into Will Graham without being able to feel him. Hannibal doesn't top often, but when he does it's heavenly. Will so wet and warm and soft around his cock, nearly overwhelmingly good. Still, the sight makes up for the sensory deprivation.
Will's back arches eagerly the moment Hannibal begins to thrust, helpless little moans filling the room. He's angelic, truly. His leaking cock bobs between his legs as Hannibal fucks him hard and fast, as an Alpha would. His hand twitches with a desire to grab that cock and make Will sob with pleasure, but he refrains.
"Will," he sighs instead, leaning down to drape himself over Will's trembling spine. "You're doing such a good job for me, darling. You always take it so beautifully."
Will keens at that, and while Hannibal can't feel the other Omega's cunt clench at the words, he knows Will well enough to assume. Will's pale hands claw at the nest, his breaths ragged. "M-more, more!"
Hannibal chuckles to himself at that, his thrusts so deep that his hips smack against Will's ass when he moves. He aims to drag the toy over all the sensitive, desperate places deep within Will, moving with only practice and intuition and Will's heavenly sounds to guide him.
His eyes slip closed when a particularly rough grind has the base of the toy grazing over his G-Spot. He groans low, repeating the motion.
"Hannibal..."
Hannibal maintains the new rhythm, his thighs shaking as pleasure pools low in his abdomen. Will is gasping for air, but he's nearly being drowned out by Hannibal's own climbing moans as he fucks himself on the toy. The scent of his own impending orgasm must be sending Will into further delirium, as he's been reduced to soft, insistent whimpers of 'Yes, yes, yes.'
Hannibal throws his head back when he comes, clenching hard around the toy as his release paints the inside of the sheath. Will answers Hannibal's moan with one of his own, grinding backwards insistently.
"Fuck, God yes, Hannibal— I'm so fucking close, Daddy. Give it to me, please."
Hannibal prides himself on being able to give Will everything he desires. He'll never want for an Alpha, not even now. Especially not now.
He pounds Will savagely, slamming into the other Omega's cunt until Will's knuckles are white and he's nearly sobbing with pleasure. Then, and only then, does Hannibal finally touch Will's cock. He strokes it quickly, relishing in the scent of Will's peaking orgasm.
He activates the knotting mechanism on the sheath, and the moment it locks in place Will is forced into a wet, screaming release. Will's cunt squirts over the nest, his cock twitching and spilling as he spasms around the toy. His mouth is a fountain of senseless gratitude, thanking Hannibal profusely for his pleasure.
The knot on the toy deflates on a timer, already adjusted to Will's personal preferences. He enjoys being filled for a few minutes after a knotting, but he becomes restless rather quickly for an Omega. Hannibal wonders if it may have something to do with Will having a Beta for a mother, though he can't say for sure.
Hannibal guides them both onto their sides, keeping Will safe and warm in the circle of his arms. Will pants softly, still shuddering as the world falls back into place. Hannibal ducks his head, lavishing his scent gland with wet kisses and soft licks. He's so precious like this. Calm, for a change. Hannibal wants this for the rest of his life.
"You must've enjoyed that," Will murmurs, and Hannibal can hear the smirk on his face without looking.
"What makes you say that?" he asks, but he realizes the answer as soon as he hears his own voice, distorted heavily where it leaves.
"You're purring," Will explains anyway. "Like... really, really loudly."
Hannibal coughs awkwardly, trying to dislodge the sound, and Will presses closer.
"No, I'm not trying to— it's nice, Hannibal. Don't be embarrassed."
Hannibal just huffs, nuzzling beneath Will's ear. "Before I met you, I hadn't purred for another person since I was a child," he confesses softly. "My body must lack the finesse required to maintain a normal volume."
Will doesn't respond, but he takes Hannibal's hand in his own and brings it to his lips.
"Jack knows about us," Will says after a fashion, and Hannibal chuckles.
"Yes, I'd imagine so."
Will sighs. "Well, I guess the game is over, then."
Hannibal hums. "No more hiding."
Will's shoulders tense slightly. He seems unsettled. "I'm, uh... I'm sorry, for causing a scene earlier. I was just so worried about you. I kept thinking about what I'd do, if Tobias had somehow managed to get the jump on you."
He pets Will's curls as the other Omega speaks, the toy slipping free enough to afford Will some space.
"...I would've killed him, Hannibal. I really would have. In front of Jack and everyone, I was ready to kill that man for hurting you."
Hannibal's heart soars at the admission of such possessive thoughts, but he settles for kissing the nape of Will's neck and saying "Don't feel guilty about today, beloved. In fact, I rather enjoyed it."
Will twists enough to shoot him a quizzical glance, and Hannibal smiles.
"Having you stake your claim on me, I mean." He darts in again, licking flatly over Will's scent gland. When he speaks, it's slow. Deliberate.
"...I'd like for everyone to know that I am yours, Will. Truly."
It's a weighted sentiment, one that he knows well could be met with rejection. The moment of silence between them feels horribly still, Hannibal trapped beneath a frozen lake.
The breath leaves his lungs in a rush when Will pounces, pinning him by his wrists. Will's eyes are clearer, now, anticipating the next wave of his Heat. Hannibal's own is beginning to cloud his mind too much to bear.
"Will..."
Whatever he'd been about to say is pushed from his mind when Will tugs the toy from his cunt, freeing Hannibal's cock when he sets it aside. He's already hard again, and Will presses closer with a near-fiendish look on his face.
"Is that a proposition, Doctor Lecter?" Will prods, and Hannibal's breath hitches as the other Omega strokes his own cock. Will brings it to Hannibal's entrance, staring directly into Hannibal's eyes. Poised. Waiting.
"Yes," Hannibal whispers. "It is."
Will groans softly, sliding easily through the slick mess Hannibal has become. Hannibal's eyes roll. True, Will may not have a knot, but that's never stopped him from making Hannibal come before.
The other Omega pushes Hannibal's knees to his chest, lowering his head to scent him.
"Say it again," Will growls, his cock massaging Hannibal's inner walls with deep, rolling grinds.
Hannibal tries to find his mind, but it feels miles away. Will's scent is overwhelming, and the nest is so warm and safe, and Will's cock feels incredible inside of him. It's too much. Far too much.
"I— I want to be yours, Will. And you mine."
Will's moan is guttural, his hips snapping insistently. The next moment, Will's fangs are sinking into his neck. His blood bursts forth, filling Will's mouth and oozing onto the nest below.
Hannibal's mind goes blank. Color bursts before his eyes, though whether they are open or closed, Hannibal can't say. He's fairly sure that he's coming again, but his body feels too light to tell. Every nerve is alive under Will, every piece of him tingling and euphoric. Will is cleaning the wound, he realizes, each pass of his tongue sending more warm pleasure spilling down his back. Moving of its own accord, Hannibal's body pulls Will in by his curls and bites him in return.
It's ecstasy in its purest form. Hannibal feels as though he might be dying when Will's taste floods his mouth— blood and pheromones and those distinctive tones of coffee and cedar that make him purr around the ruined flesh. The corners of his vision turn hazy as he gives himself over entirely to this ethereal, bone-deep pleasure.
-
When Hannibal at last gains clarity, Will is kissing him. They're both dripping wet with sweat and slick, and the air is thick with their lovemaking. He can't be sure how many hours have passed. He finds that he doesn't care.
Will's lips make their way down Hannibal's jaw, nudging him gently with his nose before moving down his throat. He licks Hannibal's wound again. Distantly, Hannibal becomes aware that Will is kneading at his chest, pressing porcelain hands to the furred skin there in a rhythmic pattern.
"Can I tell you something?" Will asks after a fashion, and Hannibal is surprised that he's lucid.
"Of course, darling. Tell me."
Will swallows, eyes fixed on Hannibal's mating wound. Hannibal regards the matching mark on Will's neck. Beautiful.
"...I don't think I've ever been this happy, that's all."
Hannibal feels a sudden sting in his eyes, a flock of unbidden tears making themselves known. He smiles, guides Will by his chin into a long, loving kiss.
"You will be," he promises against Will's lips. "I'll make sure of it."
Will pulls back enough to smile at him, kisses him once more before making himself comfortable on Hannibal's chest. He's out like a light within minutes, and Hannibal lies awake for a while longer to pet his curls and admire his peaceful expression.
When he at last follows his Mate into sleep, the last thing he senses is the scent of blood, still lingering on the air.