Work Text:
“Will, come in.”
Thunder rolled through the sky above the office as Will stepped into the large study, with it’s beautiful red accent wall, that glistened with the shades of freshly split blood, slipping from sliced flesh, pooling about the artifact residences. He slung his bag from his shoulder and set it next to one of the grey leather chairs, the soft hide glowing hauntingly in the low dim light of the office, peering like great eyes from the dark corners from which shadows threatened to seep.
Outside, a dull darkness had settled as the heavens began to split apart and bleed rain down upon Baltimore, sharp snaps of lightning cracking open the sky while the doldrums of thunder rolled on.
While the office was warm and comforting in the same way his own home, and Hannibal’s home for that matter, was, a thick scent masked the air, crowding out the familiar whiffs. He couldn’t smell the rich leather, or the burnt wood from a recent fire choked out amongst coals and brick. He couldn’t even pick up the scent of Hannibal’s expensive cologne when the man took his coat from his shoulders, filling his space, breathing down his neck.
Instead, his mouth and nose we’re tainted with an entirely different, but not new smell. It was thick and succulent, like a steak, alluring like a glass of fine wine. It smelt like the ocean and grass after rain. It was hot and spicy and musky and cloying.
But Hannibal had taken his usual seat now, and was perched, hands clasped around the arms of his chair, his eyes holding Will in a long, calm stare. To anyone else, he looked to be of a normal state. His usual stoic, well composed self. Will wasn’t anyone. It wasn’t just his relationship with the man before him, but also his ability to empath so easily with others.
He could see the strain holding those long beautiful lips. The tweaks at the corners of his eyes, the darkness slithering underneath them. He could also see the soft flush of colour in his neck and most of all, he could smell it, heavy in the air, and it was affirmed when Will met Hannibal’s gaze, and the older man dropped his away hesitantly.
Will took a seat and smiled and began to discuss his day, as if he hadn’t noticed, a loud clap of thunder rolled above them, rippling through the office as lightning struck the sky outside the creme and orange curtains.
..::..
Hannibal sighed heavily as he stepped through the front door of his home. His shoulders dropped with heavy exhaustion. His fingers then set deftly removing his coat, he kicked off his shoes and picked his way towards the bedroom before removing everything as fast as possible.
When the cold water of the shoulder hit him he flinched, clenching his hand as he slung his head beneath the bask of the freezing pellets, trying to wash away this clawing ache. His hair haloed around his face, freezing drips of purifying water slipping down his dusty blonde locks to the ground beneath his feet. His head hung in defeat.
For a long, long time he had fought this. He’d taken the best pills money could buy. He’d been religious in shoving the capsules down his gullet, and he had forgone this misery. For years and years he had passed amongst society as the top of the food chain. Appearing to all as the kind of man who could woo anything he looked at with the sheer dominance of his gaze.
Then he’d met Will and things had changed. Now here he was, shivering in his shower, being pelted by cold water, trying to scratch the scent from his flesh, trying to cleanse away the slick and arousal pumping through his veins.
It had been bad today. Made worse by seeing Will. That smell… Will always smelt, well, putting aside the awful scent of that horrendous cologne, Will always smelt wonderful to Hannibal. But today had been different.
He clenched his eyes shut as he turned off the water, bitterly drying himself, disgusted by the heat pooling in his crotch and the slick between his legs he just couldn’t get rid of. Clothes we’re pointless. He’d spent the whole damn day terrified he’d ruin his suit. So, in a right huff, he prowled into the kitchen naked and fetched a frozen, prepared kidney from the freezer.
Today, Will had smelt amazing. It had taken everything, every ounce of strength and self discipline he had ever learned in his entire life, everything. Earlier, when he had slipped Will’s coat from his shoulders, and that dominating scent had flooded him with such a sickening speed it left him breathless. If not for all his self control, he would have climbed Will like a god damn tree.
It was fucking ridiculous.
..::..
Winston lifted his head from the puffy dog bed, perking his soft ears in the direction of the bedroom door, a soft wine leaving his breath before he peered curiously at Will, who was settled amongst his council of strays, screwdriver in hand, fixing a broken boat motor for an elderly neighbour.
He had heard it too, the gentle rumble of a car engine, the soft creak of the first step of the porch. So he set his screwdriver aside and lay the motor down gently before picking his way carefully to the front door.
There was a soft knock then and he found standing before him his psychiatrist.
It didn’t surprise Will. A part of him felt like it had known Hannibal would show up sooner or later. It was the scent that startled him, for it was thick enough to cut through and hung in the air like a heavy curtain, leeching into his mind and senses, empowering and corrupting his brain, and he loved it.
“Will…. I’m sorry… It’s late.” Muttered the man standing before him, casting his eyes downwards before he removed his keys from his pocket and turned to head back towards his car. Will reached out, catching the man’s sleeve in his fingers.
“Its fine Hannibal, really.” He let go as those grand honey eyes came to settle, first on his hand, then crept their gaze up to meet his own, peering with a hidden and clawing thought. “Would you like to come in?”
He took the man’s coat from him, and couldn’t help the way his body ached when Hannibal rolled his head to one side to remove his scarf, his exposed neck bathed in that scent. Will’s mouth had never flooded with saliva that quickly before. He felt like a predator about to sink his teeth into the prey.
He stepped into his home, heading towards the kitchen. “I’ll grab you some water.” He hollered as he rushed his way toward the cabinet. “Why don’t you just sit down?” The glass was cool under his hand which was clammy and warm now, his body felt like a radiator of pulsating heat that rolled off his skin as the scent continued to crawl inside of his mind. It was devastating but he couldn’t stop thinking about it.
He could see all the signs of denial there though. He could only fathom how difficult it was for Hannibal. To be in this state. He wouldn’t be like this if he hadn’t met Will. He was the reason after all that Hannibal had stopped taking the suppressants. Now here he was, on the brink of his heat, and he looked fucking miserable.
But again, Will had no reason to be surprised. Hannibal had made it no secret how much his status sickened him to his very heart and soul. It was a feeling he could empathize with after all, because that was his job. To understand. He took the glass of water and shooed Winston back into his bedroom, closing the door behind him, determined not to bother his partner with his pack of counselling mutts.
The glass nearly slipped from his hand when he entered the living area once more, for the sight laid out before him was enough to destroy any self control Will had in one fell and arousing swoop.
Hannibal was seated on the couch, his head turned to one side, his long glorious neck exposed to the dim, warm light of the room, which danced across his pale flesh. His eyes were slipped shut, his chest rising and falling with deep inhales and slow exhales as he seemingly bathed himself in Will’s scent which must have clung still to the fabric of the sofa and now was flooding Hannibal’s mind.
"Fuck...” He muttered softly under his breath. The sound of his voice evidently stirring Hannibal as his eyes slipped open slowly and he sat up proper, taking the water from Will’s warm hands, damp from the moisture of the glass and sipping gently at the brim, his eyes low and half shut as he glanced up at Will from beneath those heavy eyelids.
He felt like he was on fire, as though his blood had turned hot and was rushing beneath his skin, threatening to boil him alive. A thin sheen of sweat was swept across his brow now as well. Carefully he pulled his blue eyes from Hannibal and sat down a cautious distance away at the opposite end of the couch, his hands pressed firmly into his lap as he kept his gaze steady across the room past Hannibal, his body rigid and tense like a board as he listened to his therapist sip at the water, trying to ignore the thick smell rolling off his hot flesh.
His hot, exposed, needy flesh.
..::..
The water didn’t help. He could feel it’s coldness slip down his throat and pool in his gut, but instead of cooling his body, it only reminded him of how hot he felt, like he as on fire and the only way to put it out was to feel Will. He grimaced at the water as he became more aware of the tightness spreading across his warm lap, the fabric of his expensive slacks tight and tense.
The smell was so thick in the air it could have been cut and served. The only thing the water was doing was keeping his mouth occupied. When Hannibal finished the glass, there was nothing left to distract him from the way Will was eyeing him hungrily, his hands clenched into tight fists on his lap, a set in his jaw and steeliness beneath his blue eyes.
Hannibal felt his skin twitch under that gaze, and then he was getting up, and taking the glass to the kitchen. He wasn’t sure why or how he really ended up in the kitchen, he needed to escape that gaze. He could feel his self-control slinking away into the shadows like a frightened cat. He was slowly loosing his grip on it. For a single passing of time he stood in the kitchen, collecting himself. Then the air was thick with Will’s scent again, his presence loomed behind Hannibal.
He hated himself then, as he was aware of his movements but was helpless to prevent them. He turned to look at Will, stepping towards him, entering his space. Then he dropped is eyes away from that blue ice, and tipped his head to one side, exposing the flesh of his neck, his breath coming slow and deep from his parted lips as he displayed the elegant dips and tendons of his throat.
Will tasted like cinnamon, and heat. It made his gut curl and coil and his body flush with sickening slick as his cock twitched in his pants. He could feel those strong hands roaming his flesh, his mind far too clouded to be bothered any further as he felt fingers working the buttons of the wine coloured dress shirt he’d managed to pull on before leaving the house.
The fabric dripped off his body onto the floor pooling about their feet, the stark coldness of the home rushing over his hot skin, but doing nothing to calm the raging inside his form. Then Will was pulling away abruptly, grabbing Hannibal’s bicep and guiding him back into the front room. Will’s strong dominating hands were pushing him down onto the rug.
He couldn’t think straight as Will pulled his pants down. He cursed himself, and felt his gut churn as his body did as it willed. His back bowed, his ass rose, and his legs spread the moment he was freed of his pants. He hadn’t put on underwear. His need had blinded him to such decency. His thighs were glistening in the low light of the cramped house, his slick smear down them. He didn’t care if the pants were ruined. He didn’t care about anything but that smell and the way Will was growling, quiet and consistently above him.
He cried out, and hated himself for it when he felt that warm tongue suddenly press to his sex. He couldn’t see the way Will had stared at his hole, and salivated with wanton desire. So the sudden wetness struck him as a shock that wracked his whole being with shivers of arousal. His heavy balls drew up tight.
Will’s tongue was unbelievably hot as it lapped and prodded at his entrance, eating up all the slick he could manage. As sudden as it had started, it ended. Will’s head pulled away from him and a silence fell over the room, broken only by their slow, laboured breaths.
“Hannibal….” Came a soft, thick voice behind him. Hannibal looked over his shoulder. His hair a mess, no longer perfect and laid just as he wanted it. Now it was messy and nearly covered his eyes as he looked back at his mate.
“Yes, Will?” He did his best to sound professional. To hide the arousal caking his voice. It didn’t work, his accent was so thick Will had to take a moment to understand what had been said.
“I want to mount you…” Came a soft, nervous voice. Hannibal’s body screamed in reply Do it then! but the rest of him, his mind, cringed away from the words. He felt uneasiness spread through him. This is why he’d come here. To be bred.To finally let his lover mount him and mark him. This was a bad heat; a very bad one. He was so good about taking the pills, but this time they hadn’t been strong enough to squelch the urge.
And now, his poor, sweet Will was doing everything in his power to respect Hannibal. The good Doctor did not want to breed. He didn’t want to be claimed, nor did he want to be mounted. Not by anyone. Well, not by just anyone.
“It’s ok Will.”
“I’ll go slow.” A nervous voice replied.
“Please do.” A hushed whisper.
When Will clambered ontop of him his body did exactly what it was programmed to do. He produced enough slick to feel it roll down his heavy balls. His back hallowed and pressed his chest and face to the floor and his legs spread as wide as they could. And then, he relaxed.
Hannibal felt the heavy member slide between his legs, against his balls and own hard cock. The next thrust slide it between the globes of his ass. The third; the head breached and Hannibal bit his hand to hold back the undignified scream.
Will trembled and froze, panting, shaking, desperate to continue, but knowing the conflict Hannibal was feeling. So he froze and gently rubbed his mate’s shoulders and hips and kneaded his ass, cooing softly.
“Continue.” Hannibal finally said. His hold twitching around the thick cock head now inside of him. The sudden feeling of being violated had eased, leaving him only with a feeling of general un-wellness and a nauseating need to have all of Will.
Will laid carefully over his back and Hannibal locked his arms, as he’d been born to do, to carry his weight. Will pressed soft, tender kisses to his neck and shoulders and panted in his ear as he began to slide in. Inch by tantalizing inch.
Hannibal thought it may never end. He was nearing his limit, preparing to beg Will to stop, when the young man finally stopped moving, and his heavy sack of seed pressed to Hannibal’s. He exhaled shakily. Will was very big. Long and thick. He was a grand example of good breeding stock, and it sickened Hannibal all the same as his body shivered in pleasure.
“Are you ok?” Came a soft whisper in his ear. Hannibal closed his eyes and relaxed a bit. He kept reminding himself who he was with. This was Will, and Will would rather die than hurt him.
“No. But its fine.” He said quietly. The way his body ached made him sick. Will stiffened above him and began to pull out. Hannibal’s eyes snapped open and his body tightened around that part of Will that brought them together now.
“We can stop…” Will said shakily, fighting his own need as Hannibal’s body refused to release him. “We can do something else.” He nuzzled Hannibal’s neck affectionately. Hannibal was too far gone now. He couldn’t dream of ever being satisfied with just the slide of his lover's cock down his throat ever again, but his mind refused to back down from the uneasiness that thrummed behind his temples.
“No…” He shifted back. “I think…. I need you to fuck me now.” It wasn’t a request. It was a demand. He felt like there was this wall of fear standing before him, and Will’s dick was the proverbial wrecking ball that he needed to knock it down.
Will whimpered against his neck, still unmoving.
He was afraid. Afraid of hurting his mate.
“Will… it’s ok.” Hannibal paused, pressing back against his partner, firmly pressing his cock deeper inside of him. He almost gagged. “I love you, and I want you. Now.”
The first few thrusts hurt. Hannibal could barely focus on the pleasure, for he was too preoccupied with trying not to vomit. The following thrusts slowly ebbed away his fears, and that fickle feeling of being dominated that festered in his mind and belly and made his skin crawl as though it were made of ants.
The thrusts after that were bliss.
They moaned and whimpered and howled together as Will drove his thick meaty cock in and out of Hannibal’s tight, fertile body. His shaft slicked to the point where it slid in and out without very much effort at all. Will was madly humping him. Short, powerful thrusts coming in rapid bursts of adrenaline, powered by intense arousal probing his wet sex again and again.
His cock was so very deep, and every time he sank in Hannibal’s gut was electrified and his cock throbbed in reply. Will was so careful. He didn’t bite Hannibal’s neck, but kissed it and pressed his face to his skin. He didn’t claw Hannibal’s hips, but made fists on the rug.
When his knot began to swell, Will’s mind swamped with need and Hannibal’s hit the peak of his pleasure. He cried out, guttural and needfully and Will tried to tear him apart with his cock. Hannibal could feel every vein and every bit of skin in his lover's dick and it drove him mad with arousal.
The fleshy mound swelled and swelled and Hannibal hated himself as he practically wept for it. It stretched his tight hole, which was so new to the whole ordeal yet responded with vigour and an inborn need for the stretch of the knot.
When his body was shaking and trembling, he bore down firmly, forcing Will’s knot back in one last time with a resoundingly wet ‘pop’. Will collapsed onto Hannibal. Their cries died to the sound of panting as the quiet settled in.
And then Will was moaning, louder than he had before and Hannibal panted and cried as Will’s dick throbbed and began flexing inside his tight, moist sex, spurting again and again with thick, gooey seed. Hannibal could feel it, could feel himself being bred and it drove him over the edge and his cries accompanied the throb of his own cock as he left a puddle of spunk on the rug, effectively ruining it. His legs spread further, and the dip of his back smeared the angry red head of his erection through the pool of seed on the floor. The evidence of their breeding.
The first orgasm was incredible. His body was shaking and wracked with spurt after spurt as his being responded full-heartily to Will’s. And, of course, his body did was it was supposed to do, it kept pleasuring Will. His walls writhed and twitched and tightened around Will’s dick and kept coaxing spurt after spurt of seed out of him, and that in return caused Hannibal to continue cumming until he was utterly spent. Kept only in this arrangement by the fat knot in his cunt.
As the afterglow of the first orgasm settled in, so did the self-loathing.
It started in his gut, so full of cum he felt fully fertilized, but also, used. It began to work it’s way up into his throat and soon it crawled in behind his eyes and made a home for itself in his mind.
Will lay over him, kissing and panting against his neck. His hands messaging Hannibal’s flanks and arms and thighs.
“Will….” He said quietly. His voice was thick, but not with arousal. It was pitched with fear and a quickly approaching panic. “I need you to get off me.” He growled quietly.
Will sat up abruptly, but he had a fleeting moment of forgetfulness as he tried to back away, crying out as his knot was tugged and Hannibal grunted. Will came again and so did Hannibal. Neither of them enjoyed it.
Hannibal did his best to sit up, but it didn’t work. He couldn’t see Will. It felt anonymous, it felt like he was being used. The panic was slowly taking hold and he hated himself for it, but he hated himself more for succumbing to his weak need.
“I’m not ok.” Was all Hannibal could croak out. The detached way in which he said it spoke volumes for Will, who began looking around frantically. He then wrapped his arms firmly around Hannibal’s waist and with as much care as he could, rolled them onto their sides and then himself onto his back, supporting Hannibal to sit onto of him.
“Can you turn to face me?” He said shakily, his dick throbbing from the tug of Hannibal from all the movement. He could practically see where his knot started, from the way his lover's anus spread around it. From this position he could catch small glimpses of the angry red flesh peeking out from under that tight warm ring of muscle.
Hannibal cryptically followed the suggestion and in a rather awkward display that required a lot of support from Will’s gentle hands and a damn lot of luck and balance, Hannibal managed to rotate round and came to face Will. The friction was nearly unbearable, and he observed even Hannibal's cock throb from the motion.
Will wasted no time rubbing Hannibal’s thighs and cheek and looking at him adoringly.
“Is that any better my love?”
Now settled into this position Hannibal felt his panic receding slowly back into the darkness. He felt more in control now without Will pinning him down, pumping cum into him, using him and his body being happy to let it happen. Now he was ontop of Will and he felt at least, less trapped.
“Yes…” He said quietly and he rose a little on Will’s cock till the knot tugged firmly and Will’s face screwed up in intense pleasure. “Thank you…” He purred His mate beamed at him and then cried out, arching his back against the ruined rug and shot hot cum deep inside Hannibal.
Hannibal panted, and came on Will, leaving beautiful thick cum all over his chest and cheek. After a while Will slide his hand through it and licked it off his fingers, making sure Hannibal could see him do it and enjoy it. This position was ridiculously arousing to Will. With the way Hannibal sat upon him he swore he could see the vague press of his cock, the meaty flesh arching towards the walls of Hannibal's gut. He pressed his hand gently to his mate's stomach and groaned as he came. He would have bet money that he felt his dick twitching under his hand.
After a while he pulled his mate down to lay onto of him, and the two nuzzled together in a blissful rest, only interrupted every few minutes by orgasm.
..::..
It took three hours for them to come apart.
Hannibal, now in a position of more control, milked Will for all he was worth, using his body in every way to bring Will off more times than he could count. He was pretty sure his last few orgasms were dry and that his sack had been emptied completely of all his seed. He ran his hand affectionately over Hannibal’s stomach, feeling how it was slightly swollen.
“I’m softening.” He told Hannibal.
“I know.”
After a few more minutes, as they kissed, biting at one another's lips and fighting with their tongues, Will’s knot finally vanished and his cock slipped out of Hannibal with a wet ‘plop’. Spreading warmth covered Will’s crotch then as Hannibal’s opened and well bred hole released some of the warm cum, leaving a puddle of it to drip onto Will’s cock and pelvis.
They kissed and then held one another. Then when they were done with that they went to the bathroom and stepped into the shower and Will licked at Hannibal’s cunt until he had swallowed nearly all the cum he’d pumped into him. He let his mate fuck his mouth and dominatingly pull his hair while he moaned around the thick cock that slide down his tight throat. Hannibal slapped his length against Will's face and came on his cheek and lips.
Then they dried off and lay together on the couch, nuzzling and petting.
“I love you.”
“I know.”
They were bonded together now, and perhaps not even murder could break them apart.