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Will wakes first to the dogs barking. It’s three am. His pack is far too well-trained to ever start barking like this, at this time, unprompted.
He’s still hazy and delirious when his phone goes off, adding it’s loud chirping to the cacophony.
“Tss!” Will hisses at his dogs, trying to hush them enough to answer. “Yes, hello?”
“Will,” Jack Crawford growls down the line, “Tell me Hannibal Lecter never confided in you that he was an Omega.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Oh, shit,” Jack agrees.
They’ve come a long way from the old days, where Omegas in heat would slaughter anyone who stood between them and their chosen Alpha. Where Omegas would fight each other to the death in order to claim their prize, and some Alphas died of rut exhaustion or from injuries sustained from a too-eager Omega. Now, Omegas temper their heats with stabilizing pills and Alphas have a say in who they breed. But there would have been no stabilizing pills provided to an incarcerated Beta.
There are headlights pouring in through Will’s window, and he knows.
“What’s the damage?” He forces himself to ask, as the lights click off.
“He’s Hannibal Lecter,” Jack says, disgusted, “He managed to hide all the signs of pre-heat, right up until the adrenaline rush that boosts Omegan strength. He rushed the guards that came to tie him down and shook off a goddamn taser.”
“They tried to taser a heat-sick Omega?” Will yelps, even as he hears the careful thud of footfalls on his creaky porch steps.
“You can imagine what that did for his mood,” Jack responds, “He killed all three, and the nurse that was standing too close to the door. Didn’t even hesitate, it was like he was walking right through them. How soon can you get here?”
The shadow lingers in the doorway, as though politely waiting to knock until Will finishes his call. Will will not make it to the BSHCI, there is no doubt about that. Will will be lucky to make it to dawn.
“I’m out of state, Jack,” He lies, staring the shadow down.
“What do you mean, out of state?” Jack growls, but Alpha posturing will not work on Will, not this time. He may have had the advantage over Will before, with Will denying any chance to indulge his own Alpha nature, but there is no other choice for Will anymore. Not with the one who has already laid his claim waiting at the door.
“I mean I quit months ago, and now I’m in Florida,” Will tells him, “I’ve got to go, Jack, I have an early start in the morning. Call me if there’s any way I can help you over the phone.” He hangs up.
The shadow knocks on the door, three polite little raps. Will is, in all honesty, impressed with his restraint. He goes to his fate.
Hannibal stands in his doorway, grinning at Will with red-stained teeth and eyes that are almost entirely blown-pupil. He must have survived the drive to Wolf Trap on pure adrenaline, alone. He smells like blood and slick, entirely delicious. Will supposes it could be worse. At least he has always thought himself a bit queer, always felt a strange attraction to Hannibal, even believing him to be a Beta.
“Alpha,” Hannibal purrs, stepping close. Will steps back to let him inside. It is a mistake. Hannibal’s hand shoots out to wrap around Will’s throat, responding to what he sees as retreat. “No,” Hannibal hisses, “My Alpha.”
“Yours,” Will promises, voice raspy and constricted, “Yours, sweet Omega, just… inside?”
Hannibal sniffs the air, seeking out predators, potential rivals. There is no one around for miles. Its why Will didn’t bother to run.
That and that it was Hannibal. That he had always known, somewhere deep down, that if there was ever going to be anyone, it would be Hannibal. Beta or Omega or anything else. They were conjoined.
Hannibal growls, sounding almost more like a posturing Alpha than the threatening sound of an Omega purr. Will’s cock is thick and hard in his pants, despite the way Hannibal restricts his breathing.
“Please,” He coos again, the well-practiced sound of a placating Alpha. “Please, sweet Omega, beautiful Hannibal, the bed?”
Hannibal peers past Will to the bed, his eyes going slightly hazy at the sight. The need must be unbearable at this point, his body screaming for a knot. Will can smell the way he’s soaked through his jumpsuit.
Then Hannibal turns on the dogs with a snarl, shoving Will backwards into the house. “Out,” he growls, releasing Will’s throat, “Get them out. Alone,” He adds, as if Will did not get the point.
Will nods, snapping his fingers towards the door. “Outside, guys.”
The dogs go, not entirely willingly. Hannibal, who has started inching Will closer to the bed, looks and smells like a threat to them, with the way blood has stained his jumpsuit and twisted his scent with the thick aroma of copper. Winston hesitates in the doorway, and Will has to snap again to shoo him out.
When they are gone, Hannibal kicks the door shut behind him and shoves Will towards the bed again. “Present,” he growls, and Will hurries to obey.
The traditional pose for breeding, of course, involves an Omega on their front, chest to the ground, ass in the air. But that is meant for breeding, for pooling semen deep inside the Omega, ensuring a conception as thoroughly as possible. This is not about breeding. This is ownership, a claim, a mating, and for that, there are expectations of an Alpha.
Will strips himself naked and crawls backwards onto the bed before Hannibal can shove him again. He lays back against the pillows, hands above his head to prove he does not intend to attempt to prevent Hannibal’s attentions, or, worse, attempt to guide the mating to his own preferences. Bonding is about what the Omega wants and needs, and Will knows that at this moment, he is little more than a knot to fill and satiate Hannibal’s aching body. He spreads his legs, showing off the way his cock lays against his belly, nearly fully hard. Hannibal strips himself and crawls onto the bed before Will can get a good look at him, pressing his nose to the dip of Will’s hips and inhaling Will’s scent where it is thickest.
There is a moment where Will’s heart skips, his body tenses. He’s sweating with his nervousness. Even now, after years of learning each other, after Hannibal has killed four people to find himself in Will’s bed, he may still decide they are incompatible. Will may smell wrong, the bitter and unpleasant scent of an Alpha unsuitable for this particular Omega, and with no other options in range, Hannibal’s outrage may drive him to seek retribution. Will has the Alpha build, tall and broad, but he knows he has no hope of fending off a heat-mad Omega who has already tasted blood.
But then Hannibal looks up at him and purrs, pleased. Will’s body goes lax with relief. They are compatible. He can’t believe he doubted it.
“My Alpha,” Hannibal murmurs, crawling up Will’s body to straddle his hips. Like this, Will can finally get a good look at him. Well-built, which Will had expected. Omega fashion traditionally leans towards waxing and shaving, but Hannibal has a thick patch of chest hair that Will imagines he might like to run his hands through, if he did not know very well to lay exactly as he is. His cock is thick between his thighs, hard and leaking onto Will’s stomach, and Will can feel the damp presence of slick where Hannibal’s backside rests against him.
The first heat after years of suppressants is not likely to be fertile, but Will’s body reacts as though it is, his cock straining upwards, longing to fill Hannibal as much as Hannibal demands. He certainly smells fertile, sweet and overwhelming. Will closes his eyes with a soft moan.
It earns him a strike across the face and a hiss of displeasure. Will looks back at Hannibal hastily.
“Mine,” Hannibal growls, “Only mine.”
“Of course,” Will promises, baffled.
“Look at me.”
It clicks together in Will’s head, and he bites back a laugh. Laughter would not be well received.
“There’s nobody else, Hannibal,” He promises softly, “The only person I see when I close my eyes, is you.”
Something in Hannibal’s gaze softens. He looks… confused, staring down at Will as though, in all the languages he must speak, Will has said something that cannot translate neatly into any of them. Will realizes that Hannibal came here with the expectation, as much as a heat-addled Omega can think of expectations, that he would have to force Will.
“Your Alpha,” Will assures him, “Always. Even before I knew.”
Hannibal’s purring has stopped. Everything has stopped. There is nothing in the room but two heartbeats and the heavy breathing of an Omega in need. He looks lost.
Will rocks his hips up, gently, careful not to insinuate that he might try to wrest control from Hannibal. “Go ahead,” He says, “Take what you need.”
Hannibal’s motions have been fluid, up until now, Omega instinct guiding him. In contrast, he is jerky as he lines himself up over Will’s cock, still staring at him.
“Go ahead,” Will urges again. He tries to remember everything he’s been taught about placating an Omega. He hasn’t had much chance to use any of it over the years. “My Omega,” He tries, “My sweet Omega, anything you need. Anything you want.”
“Yours,” Hannibal whispers, sounding vaguely awestruck, and then he starts to slide down. His eyes flutter closed as he fills himself with Will, a low moan working its way out of his throat. Will can barely keep his eyes open, his legs tensing as the tight, slick heat wraps around him.
Hannibal hesitates when he is fully seated, going very still over Will’s lap. His throat works silently, his lips part. Will has never seen anything so erotic in his life. His fingers scrabble for purchase, digging into the pillows beneath his head. He wants to grip at Hannibal’s hips, fuck up into him, or roll him over and make him scream with pleasure. He also values his life, though, and so he stays still.
But he can beg. Some Omegas even prefer it, aroused by the way their Alphas lose themselves to the pleasure. Hannibal seems the type to enjoy it, to want to know exactly what he does to Will.
“Please, Hannibal,” Will says, “Please, move? Or… Or let me move, I could make you feel so good-“
The last draws a growl from Hannibal. He opens his eyes and smacks a hand down on the center of Will’s chest. “Still,” He demands, “Still and quiet. Mine.”
“Yours,” Will whispers, and then moans as Hannibal finally starts to move. He’s not surprised. Omegas tend to relax after bonding, but the first round is always about staking a claim, and Hannibal is a control freak at the best of times. Will digs his heels into the mattress, forcing himself still as Hannibal rolls his hips, building up a pace that leaves them both shuddering.
It is not going to last long. Hannibal is too far into his heat, too desperate and needy. Will’s body reacts to his eager scent, his knot filling and pressing insistently against Hannibal’s slick entrance.
“Yesss,” Hannibal whines, fucking back onto Will in thrusts that shake the entire damn bed. Will’s body is damp with sweat, sliding against the sheets as Hannibal rides him, taking him a little deeper each time, until there is nothing else he can take but the knot, nearly too big at this point.
“Careful-“ Will gasps, but it is a useless warning. There is nothing Hannibal has ever done that he hasn’t explicitly wanted to do, and as he forces himself back onto Will’s knot, his face is slack with pleasure.
“Alpha,” Hannibal whines, and clenches tight around Will’s knot as his body starts to shake. His orgasm is a rough, violent thing, leaving him trembling in Will’s lap as his come splashes across Will’s stomach.
“Please,” Will begs in a shaky gasp, aware of nothing beyond Hannibal, his pleasure-filled face, the way his body works Will’s knot, “Please, Hannibal, I can’t-“
“Bite,” Hannibal demands, his voice stretched thin as he rolls his hips again. Will sobs in pleasure, his knot full and trapped and aching. “Bite, Alpha.”
Will’s thin control breaks with the permission. He surges up, wrapping one arm tight around Hannibal’s waist, the other hand gripping a fistful of his hair and yanking his head to the side. He sinks his teeth into Hannibal’s throat, breaking skin and tasting blood and sweetness and Omega, Will’s Omega. He comes with a whine, with his mouth full of Hannibal’s blood, his hips rocking up and drawing another climax from Hannibal, primed for hours of pleasure by his body’s cycle.
When Will’s knot deflates, they do not speak. Instead, Hannibal presents, though Will knows it to be more a concession than true submission. Omegas do not submit, and even if they did, Will knows very well that Hannibal has owned him for years already. He covers Hannibal’s body with his own, fucking into him, his motions guided by Hannibal’s moans and whines.
They spend three days fucking and feeding. Hannibal leaves sharp-fanged bites up and down Will’s body, occasionally allowing Will to return the favor. In his moments of clarity, Will tends to the dogs and feeds Hannibal by hand, little cuts of fruit and deli meat, no doubt far from his standards but miles beyond what the BSHCI would have offered him.
When the morning of the fourth day comes, Will is wrapped around Hannibal, his nose pressed to Hannibal’s throat. Despite the sweat and slick and come soaking the bed, Hannibal smells clean and pure, if Will takes a deep breath of the scent gland in his throat. The cycle has passed.
“Do you have regrets?” Hannibal asks him, his fingers combing gently through Will’s knotted curls.
Will hums thoughtfully. “Only that I can’t bring the dogs,” He murmurs. Hannibal’s chest rumbles with a laugh.
“Perhaps one or two,” He concedes, and who is Will to argue with his Omega?