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Hannibal knew before he even answered the door what Will wanted his late night visit to be about.

Despite it being three in the morning, Hannibal has no qualms in pulling the door back and letting the fretful omega inside. Going by his sweat-dampened curls and wandering eyes, Hannibal is guessing that Will has been having a very long, paranoia-filled night.

The omega doesn’t say anything but a gruff greeting, and he silently follows Hannibal into his kitchen— one of the few personal spots in the house that Will seems to always seep into despite him somewhat being a patient of Hannibal’s.

“Now, what do I owe the pleasure to, Will?” Hannibal asks, pouring himself and Will some wine as the omega tries not to let his fingers shake too much.

“Jack,” Will takes his glass once it’s offered, his sips edged with an unsettled jittery-ness that reminds Hannibal of prey when it’s spooked, “He’s been— he’s been talking to me about Bella. It’s shit, what he’s going through. I mean, you know how regretful he gets.”

Hannibal snorts softly in understanding, “Unfortunately so.”

Will nods, breathing heavily into his glass as he chances another sip, swallowing quickly before continuing, “He was telling me earlier today about how they wanted to do so much and couldn’t now. The whole—” Will waves around a dramatic hand, “—stolen time thing. I feel bad I truly do, but— . . . But— . . .”

“Yes, Will?”

“I feel horrible about it, Hannibal. I should be offering comfort and advice to the best of my ability and knowledge, but when Jack starts talking about how he wanted kids, I just— . . . I get off track.”

This peaks Hannibal’s interest. If he were to be honest, while his thoughts never feared drifting into the territory, Will always seemed to be in the gray about having kids. While the alpha had no argument about doing so with the omega that currently occupies his kitchen as much as his mind palace, Will had different ideas. In multiple sessions he went on and on about the loathing hatred he held for his mother’s abandonment for a new omega in lieu of his father, and his fear of turning out like his dad — washed out and drunk — if he ever stooped to mating with an alpha. To Hannibal, Will seemed to always be on the offensive about his biological imperatives, and that he preferred to skip their pleasantries and focus on matters he perceived to be far more important. For him to address the issue in such a blatant manner throws up several red flags, and Hannibal is nothing if curious as to why Will has suddenly found himself in this particular riptide.

“How so?”

Will worries his lip for a moment, obviously wanting to hold back. He should. Speaking of something like this is reserved for mates or medical professionals, and while Hannibal is his sort-of therapist, this is certainly a discussion meant for another set of ears.

“I—“ he starts after a moment, pausing, “—kids have always been sort of unappealing to me. I’ve always worried about my job and what it— what it did,” the omega’s skin tinges red at the implication, at the personal jab towards his embarrassment of his failing mental health, “For me to bond or even have children with my mate would be— . . . It would be utterly damning, wouldn’t it?”

Hannibal tilts his head, eyes gently squinted, “Not necessarily. While it is true your job is quite demanding, most omegas have been known to balance their professional and their personal lives without issue.”

“Well I’m not most omegas in that sense, am I?” Will snips.

He isn’t wrong. Not in the slightest. After all, most omegas don’t end up in his kitchen at three in the morning.

Well, ones that are alive, anyway.

“You have a gift, Will. A gift that comes with a price, yes, but a gift nonetheless. You are not like the other omegas in that sense, surely.”

Will is blushing, tinted redder than before, and he coughs, “I— I wouldn’t call it a gift.”

“Then what would you call it?”

Hannibal finds Will meeting his gaze. It’s a rare occurrence, mostly because Hannibal knows how vulnerable it makes Will feel. Looking means seeing, and seeing means knowing— and with Will, sometimes not knowing something was better than being aware. For Hannibal though, seeing meant analyzing, and he didn’t waste the chance.

Will looks tired, with deep bags framing his bloodshot eyes and turning his pale skin a sickly purple color. It’s obvious that he has been stressing as well, as there’s that persistent hint of a scowl about to form from his features. Mentally, Will is a mess— his brain even darker than those circles around his eyes and harsher than any scowl he could express. The man is nothing but frayed nerves and insomnia, and he’s looking at Hannibal as if he sees someone who knows the answer but doesn’t want to say anything.

He does the honor for him.

“Hannibal, I was thinking about having kids.”

It’s a topic change that Hannibal wishes could’ve come at another time— especially when Will’s magnificent mind is up for discussion. However, now that it’s about Will’s body — specifically, “I’ll let an alpha breed me” type discussion — Hannibal finds himself completely unable to keep their previous conversation from dying off. It’s a bad habit he’s been forming with the omega.

“You are now?” Hannibal asks politely, trying so hard to keep it professional with the fiery hunger that lays under his skin— one that wants to burn through Will and leave nothing left but a shell of a man that Hannibal could fill ever so beautifully.

He thankfully doesn’t notice, because Will nods and finally breaks eye contact, “Yes. I— Jack was making me think about it. About— about regretting not following through with getting a mate and settling down. I’m almost in my forties, so I’m definitely in a now-or-never scenario.”

Despite his willingness, Hannibal knows that there is a certain persona he must upkeep, “Will, you won’t be expected to have children just because the window is closing.”

“I’ve always kinda wanted it. Just didn’t know if it was right or not,” Will rubs indecisively at his nape, “But that’s not— there’s another reason I came to you, Hannibal… It’s not exactly professional of me, but— . . .”

Hannibal’s feels the monster under his skin growl with glee, “Will, I’d like to imagine we are friends. We aren’t strictly confined to professionalism. We never were.”

“Well, it’s— it’s medically professional, is what I’m saying... Alana mentioned to me once that while she interned with you at Hopkins, that you taught her everything you knew about omegas,” Will clears his throat, “Since I’ve decided to go through with starting a family, I was— I was wondering if you could—“ Will coughs and continues, obviously embarrassed and nervous about his request, “—if you could see if I’m still able to bear children, and that there’s nothing wrong… d-down there…”

For a moment, everything is silent. Hannibal takes the time to process.

“Ah,” is what he comes up with.

It’s a feat. Will Graham is truly the only omega — the only human being, to be specific — that has essentially rendered the alpha wordless.

“You don’t have to if you’d prefer—“

“I’m not opposed to the examination, Will. The only issue is that I’m not sure that you understand what the examination would entitle.”

The omega is now caught off guard, “Excuse me?”

“As a male omega, for me to be able to fully examine your cervix for abnormalities that would prevent you from conceiving or having a healthy pregnancy, you would need to be sexually aroused.”

Will’s cheeks are still heated, the skin flushed in a way that reminds Hannibal of petals from a delicate salmon-colored gladiolus, “I— I didn’t know that.”

“Do you wish to refrain from performing the examination?”

Instantly, like pouring cold water on him, Will jumps to answer, “No! No—“ he calms himself slightly, “—it’s fine. I— I’d rather you did it… I’m uncomfortable with most doctors, especially with— with this…”

“I highly advise that they would be preferable in this situation, Will, even if they make you uncomfortable.”

Hannibal has to fight the urge to smirk as Will shakes his head in disagreement, “It’s not breaking any confidentiality agreement. I mean, I’m your sort-of patient. A case where you can use the word technically and not get penalized for it… You wouldn’t be breaking any laws or oaths if you went through with this, would you?”

“Will. I’m not the best suitor—“

“I trust you,” Will says, like it’s enough.

Hannibal knows that the omega must have some sort of unearthly merit, because it is.

“When do you want to be examined?”

Will bites his bottom lip before stepping forward, “I was hoping, if you weren’t opposed, to go through with it right now. I— I know it’s early and that I’ve definitely messed up your schedule… It’s just that— well, I’m anxious about this. I’m afraid that if I don’t go ahead and start on it now, I’ll just push it off more and more and then I won’t follow through. But I want to. Right now I really want to follow though… Could— could you help me, Hannibal?”

It’s like Will is every exception to his rules. If anyone else had asked him of this, Hannibal would surely be asking for a business card, and would be browsing his selection on his recipe rolodex. But with Will — with that longing look on his face — Hannibal can’t find it in himself to follow through with his usual treatment of the rude. Besides, Will asking Hannibal to hurry up and help him get pregnant is certainly not hurting anything in Hannibal’s standards.

“Of course, Will.”

And Will smiles gratefully.

Will’s eyes are wide as Hannibal reveals the instruments needed for the examination, specifically the breeding bench Hannibal pulls out of his office’s closet. It’s a little dusty, and Hannibal makes a small performance of perfecting its appearance as Will stares at it for a few moments.

“I— There’s a lot to be said about those items all being in there,” Will tries to joke, but his voice is quelled with nerves and his leg is shaking unconsciously.

“Some omegas come to me and require some assistance in certain ways I am unable to traditionally provide,” Hannibal explains, “The toys and bench are merely products to achieve a better state of mind and body, if they are consenting to it, of course.”

Will swallows, and he comes over to the bench to begin running a hand down the main part of it, fingers tracing the designs in the cushions as they pass, “I’m curious to how this could be helpful.”

“Some omegas are calmed by being in natural states of claiming. Some acquire this as well, but need some forms of stimulation. I mostly use this type of sexual therapy for omegas who struggle achieving orgasm. However, it can be applied in a multitude of situations.”

The profiler hums, somewhat snorting as he speaks, “Good to know.”

“It is helping you, no?”

Wil quiets at that, and Hannibal smiles softly.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Will.”

The omega tries to shake himself out of his stupor, “Yeah. I— I know that. Just— what do I need to do now that we’ve got the, uh, equipment?”

“For your cervix to be accessible, I would need you to strip yourself of your undergarments and your pants. If you want to be completely comfortable, I would suggest removing your jacket and any layers you have. You may keep a shirt on, if you so wish.”

Will smiles tightly, “Nah, may as go all the way… Besides, I’m going to be getting a little hot here soon, so might as well save my clothes the trouble. I sweat a lot.”

Hannibal nods, trying not to seem too eager about Will’s decision, “You may take your clothes and place them on my desk for later. All I ask is that you fold them, and keep your shoes on the floor. While you get undressed, I’ll get some of the other items I need ready.”

Will nods, and Hannibal decides to give Will the façade of privacy as he goes to cleaning the toys he’s chosen for this event.

To say that Hannibal is keen about this examination is an understatement. He has been imagining Will in this sort of situation for quite some time— around the same moment he realized that Will was about as attractive as he was interesting. The omega procures a substantial amount of Hannibal’s fancy, more so now than even any type of fantasy he has over all the things he could do with Freddie Lounds’ corpse. For this to be happening — for him to finally see Will in such a manner — is such a euphoric development that Hannibal feels like he should give Jack and Bella a personal thanks in pushing Will into this corner.

Ah, he’ll thank Jack. More than likely in the form of the cheapskate florist who gave him browned gladioluses for his office vases. It was quite rude, but deserving of such admiration in terms of letting Crawford know his unintended influence was greatly appreciated.

“Ready,” Will coughs from behind Hannibal, knocking him out of his mental reverie, “Do I— do I need to get on the bench now?”

Hannibal turns, and it’s a true statement to how much control he has over himself when he doesn’t jump Will right then.

Will’s stance reminds Hannibal of Sandro Botticelli’s masterpiece, The Birth of Venus, all pale skin and shyness, a pure beauty that must be appreciated. Like the goddess, Will is immaculate, his body planes of skin and flesh that Hannibal wishes to devour in ways that involve more than garnish and cutlery. His eyes are cast onto the floor, but are dancing up to meet Hannibal’s— all tease and an uncertainty that makes the alpha’s blood boil.

“Hannibal?”

“Yes?”

Will rubs at one of his arms, “Should I get on the bench now?”

“Oh, yes. You may.”

Hannibal watches as Will quickly makes his way over to the bench. Now, without the coverage of flannel and threadbare cotton, Hannibal can see just how far Will’s flushing spreads, and he can’t help but quickly lick his lips in a famished fashion as Will busies himself with getting onto the bench.

His movements are unsure, jerky with inexperience and anxiety as he tries to get into position. The bench forces Will to have his ass raised and exposed, knees eageled and arms braced in front of him. It’s a beautiful sight— one Hannibal desires to sketch out in graphite and canvas, to be immortalized forever. However, Hannibal has to content himself with saving the image to his mind palace, one of which that is already to the brim with all things Will Graham.

“Is this good?” Will asks, legs akimbo and spine arched near his pelvis— he’s even adjusted perfectly without any assistance from Hannibal, and Hannibal wants to gloat in how he’s a natural, “I don’t— I don’t need to move or something?”

“No,” Hannibal stands, watching as Will’s breathing picks up, “However, I need to strap you in. This is purely for your safety, as we would want you to refrain from injury if you were to move or something similar. Is this okay?”

“Y-Yes,” Will stutters, his approval gusted out on a rough exhale.

Hannibal works quickly, fingers deft and precise. Will’s skin is hot when his fingertips grace against it, pulling the lengths of padded leather and tightening when necessary. The omega is taking it well, remaining quiet and mostly calm as Hannibal finishes with the restraints on the bench.

“What now?” Will asks once Hannibal pulls away again, the last of the restraints being fixated around his neck, keeping his head close enough to the bench to keep his neck from straining too much.

“Now the examination begins,” Hannibal states, pulling over his cart of various toys and items as he catalogues Will’s reactions— the subtle twitches in his frame, the acceleration of his heartbeat and the peak in his scent, “However, as I stated before, your cervix will not be fully accessible until you are aroused.”

Wil chuckles, but it sounds far from humorous, “So you need to turn me on right now?”

“Precisely.”

The omega sighs lowly, cursing under his breath, “Just— do it, Hannibal. Get it over with.”

“Is there anything you’d prefer me to do to make the process easier and quicker for you?”

Will is silent for a moment, as though he’s weighing his response. Hannibal happily waits for it.

“I— I’d like it if you— if you’d play with me a little,” the omega’s voice is quiet, and Hannibal is sure a part of Will is mortified at the admissions but understands that this is for a greater good, “I— when I touch myself, I like rubbing my clit and feeling how w-wet I get… I also like using a toy that knots when I’m pretty worked up, too… You’d probably get a good response, then…”

Hannibal grins, happy that Will is unable to see his expression, “Thank you, Will. Now, if you get too uncomfortable or feel like you are unable to continue, let me know, and I will stop that instant.”

He honestly might not, but Will doesn’t need to know that.

“Got it,” Will murmurs, but he quickly steels himself again, “Now hurry up, Hannibal.”

Hannibal smirks even wider, and begins to take Will’s advice to use to his advantage. At this angle, the bench has perfectly exposed Will’s pussy to Hannibal. The little mound is maintained to some degree, just enough to show that Will takes care of it but isn’t necessarily overly obsessive with it. To Hannibal, though, the sight of some of Will’s pubic hair is a blessing. After all, he’s an alpha who prefers a natural, classic look compared to what most omegas do nowadays. It’s a relief, one Hannibal can get into as he brings some of fingers up to Will’s pussy, watching as the delicate flesh welcomes his fingers as he begins to touch around Will’s labia.

Will hisses, his intake of breath sharp. Hannibal notices that he’s stiffened some, and that he’s waiting for Hannibal’s next move. The alpha smirks, and he allows his digits to mingle about Will’s warm folds before settling in on the most crucial part.

“Did you know what seventy-five percent of people with a vagina don’t get off from penetration?” Hannibal murmurs, and he allows the pad of his pointer and thumb to roll Will’s clit between them, “It’s quite rare that an omega finds pleasure solely from it.”

“B-But I like getting knotted,” Will says defensively, “At least by the toys…”

Hannibal chuckles, enjoying Will’s admittance and inexperience, “Will, omegas were designed to enjoy knotting. It’s imperative. Your body craves the sensation of being bred by an alpha.”

Will jerks softly at Hannibal’s words and ministrations, a small exhale being the only sound Hannibal gets out of the profiler as he rubs the omega’s sensitive flesh. The alpha smiles and begins working the nub of nerves, watching as Will begins to relax more and more, watching as Will’s pussy grows wet and swollen after each time Hannibal touches it.

“You’re like most omegas in this sense, Will. You need clitoral stimulation to achieve orgasm,” Hannibal holds a hungered rumble back when he sees Will trying to look back at him, but is stopped by the restraints on the bench, “It’s not a bad thing. It’s just common misinformation.”

Very quietly, Will asks, “What else should I know? . . .”

“Curious, are we?”

Will wiggles slightly, his movements straining the leather and making the most beautiful noises — a symphony played in rawhide and constraint — as he replies, “Well, it would— it would be nice to know the truth about what I have, right?”

“I suppose,” the alpha muses, and he chuckles as he begins to work Will’s pussy again, pleased at the eager way Will responds to his touch now, “Did you know the clitoris is purely for pleasure? No other part of the human body for either gender has something similar. Its sole function is to create sexual arousal to reach climax, and has double the amount of nerve endings a penis acquires. This means, when I’m touching you like this, you are meant to feel nothing but pleasure.”

Will trembles softly, his legs unconsciously trying to spread more, “O-Oh…”

Hannibal hums in agreement, smiling as he gathers some of Will’s natural lubricant up and using it to get smoother friction. The omega keens softly, his back arching some and his pussy trying to present itself further to Hannibal, making the alpha chuckle and work the piece of flesh harder.

“Y-Y-You said,” Will stutters out, exhales now hot and voice strained, “You said I got off to the idea of breeding?”

“Indeed. Omegas naturally crave that sort of thing. A hint of encouragement from nature, if you will. I’m sure that your age and latest decision have heavily influenced your sexual fantasies and how you’ve gotten off recently.”

Will moans out, his forehead now resting against the bench as his pussy subtly moves back on Hannibal’s digits, “Oh yes, it— it has been… I got off just the other day from it… How did you k-know?”

“Alpha’s intuition,” he offers politely.

In truth, it’s been one of Hannibal’s private fantasies for a while. One he only allowed himself to divulge in like his habit of dropping bad people into crock pots and in his freezer. He was strict about it, not wanting to spoil the heat he feels at the mental imagery. To not lose that first-time feel that Will seems to capture oh so well. Now though, Hannibal doesn’t need to worry about controlling it. Not with what Will just said. The beast in Hannibal purrs at the thought — of Will touching himself and coming to the idea of him getting fat with pups — and he can’t help himself from rubbing Will’s clit just a little harder, and just to tease him a little, Hannibal allows two of his fingers to sink into the pink satin of Will’s pussy.

“Oh, Hannibal,” the profiler chirps out, his nails now digging into the boards of the bench, “Keep— keep talking, please…”

“What would you like me to say, dear Will?”

The omega growls softly, obviously thinking of the restraints as a nuisance while his limbs strain against them, “Very unprofessional things…”

“Such as?”

“Oh you know what I want, Hannibal,” Will grits out, and Hannibal has to admire that fiery desire lining Will’s voice, “You say you’re smart, but when you’re two fingers deep in me you can’t—“ Will whines as Hannibal begins to move those two fingers just because, “—god dammit, Hannibal. Fuck.”

Hannibal huffs, “You know how I feel about cursing, Will.”

“Hard not to,” he breathes, now panting, “Jesus, Hannibal, come on—“

“What do you want, Will? Do you want me to tell you that you look good like this? That you’re so wet and tight for me? That I can feel how eager you are for this? Of how you want to be bred by an alpha?” Will moans lowly — a guttural, needy sound — as Hannibal buries another digit alongside the other two, his thumb now pressing hotly against Will’s clit, “Is this why you came to me? Because you wanted me to see if you were fertile enough for me? So that you could let me see what a desperate omega you are? Of how much you want my knot stuffing your pussy full and filling it to the brim with my come?”

Will cries out, the bench groaning as he bodily jerks, pussy mouthing at Hannibal’s hand hungrily, “God, Hannibal, yes! I want your pups, please—“

“How kind of you to ask so nicely,” Hannibal growls, licking his lips as he sees just how wet Will is, “Now, since you decided to wake me up so early, I deserve a treat now, don’t I?”

“Yes— yes, anything you want, Hannibal, please!”

Will’s scent is heavy now a Hannibal kneels down, his face now mere inches from Will’s pussy. He doesn’t hesitate though, letting his mouth and tongue lap up what he’s wanted to taste for so long. Will moans hotly, his noises approving of Hannibal’s ministrations as he eats the omega out, enjoying that salty sweet taste of him.

“Shit, shit, shit— Hannibal,” Will keens highly, “I’m gonna— I’m gonna come—“

Hannibal pulls back instantly, “We can’t have that, now can we?”

Will whines, shaking his head as he tried to push back on Hannibal’s tongue that’s no longer there.

“Will, if you’re going to come, it’s going to be on my knot,” Hannibal purrs out, and Will nods in agreement, “Now, what to do until then…”

“T-Touch me again,” Will murmurs softly, his head hanging down onto the bench as sweat begins to bead along his twitching back, “Just do something, Hannibal… Please.”

“I could let you come down from this, get all soft on me. I could let you just go back to how you were when we started this, and I just work you up over and over and over—“

Will moans, neck straining against the restraint placed on it, “Jesus, Hannibal…”

“— or, I could fuck you with one of these toys, get you nice and loose for me, and I’d always keep you from ever reaching climax. And then, when you think you can’t be teased enough, I’ll shove my knot deep inside of your pretty cunt and I’ll breed you so well that you’ll get the pups you’ve been wanting so badly.”

“Oh fuck, yes— Hannibal, please— do it, please—“

Hannibal growls, and Will quiets down into an appeasing whimper. He’s holding himself still, nothing but instinct and hormones controlling him as Hannibal walks over to his tray and makes his selection.

“I recall you saying that you liked to make yourself come on a toy that knots,” the alpha’s fingers trail down his sparse collection, his crinkling at the corners as he comes across some of the omegas’ favorites, “but I can tell you now, it is not like a real knot. Could never be a real knot… Tell me, Will, have you ever taken an actual alpha’s knot before?”

Will takes a deep breath, his reply hushed in what Hannibal suspects is anticipation, “N-No… I— I never trusted an alpha before… Not— not until you came along.”

That makes Hannibal smile proudly as he holds his selection up off of the tray, “Ah, so my knot will be the first you ever get to experience?”

“Yes,” Will whispers, and softer than that he adds, “and I want you to be the last…”

Hannibal immediately turns, his gaze focusing intensely on the subdued omega, “What did you say?”

“Bond with me, Hannibal. Breed me,” Will sounds almost distant, like he’s floating and he’s telling Hannibal about what the stars feel like against his fingertips as he drifts, “You’re the only alpha I want— that I’ve ever wanted.”

The room is utterly silent afterwards. Hannibal is sure that if the metaphorical pin were to drop, one would actually be able to hear it. Maybe he wouldn’t though, because there’s just a rush in his ears as his world comes into hyper focus, when the beast inside of him comes out of the shadows and sheds that previous façade of a person suit.

Will is patient, ass in the air and his glistening folds exposed in waiting. He looks like a beautiful, debauched picture, but at the same time, elegant. His ease and posture vaguely reminds him of Lorenzo Bernini’s Hermafrodita Durmiente, his back exposed to Hannibal while his neck tries to curl invitingly towards him. His skin seems so smooth, like marble, sheening with sweat as Hannibal comes forward.

Will is truly a work of art. An undeniable magnum opus.

Hannibal cannot do anything less than appreciate him for what he is.

He comes forward, his footfalls echoing in the chamber of his office as he closes in on Will. The omega is pliant and ready for him, not even jolting any against the breeding bench’s restraints when Hannibal places a firm hand on his inner thigh. The alpha nearly growls in gratitude at Will’s compliance, at the way he remains still as Hannibal glides the tip of the toy past his pulsing, wet folds.

“How considerate of you, Will, to allow me to be your alpha.”

Will moans as Hannibal buries the toy inside of his pussy, his flesh working around the dildo and taking it deeper and deeper as Hannibal smiles devilishly above the omega. Below, Will cries out, head snapping up with as much allowance as the strains give, his damp curls bouncing as he jerks in response.

“You take fake cock well, Will, but shall you do the same for mine?”

Will nods, nails digging into the wood of the bench as he keens, futilely pushing back against the dildo.

“You’ll look so magnificent, stuck on my knot and bred up full. Is that something you’d like, Will?”

“Yes, Hannibal, yes!”

Hannibal chuckles, using one hand to twist the dildo inside of Will, and watching how the omega squirms as he works his belt and fly loose with his free set of fingers.

“How sensitive are you right now, dear Will?”

“I— I can feel everything,” Will pants, and Hannibal can feel the tug on the toy as he tries to pull it back out to thrust into the omega, “God, I need your knot, Hannibal, please—“

“Soon enough, Will,” Hannibal softly presses a chaste kiss against the back of Will’s leg in promise, and the omega keens quietly at the feeling as the alpha pulls away, “Now, I want to work you on this toy till I’m content.”

“Hannibal, I’d rather—“

Wil doesn’t get to finish, because Hannibal doesn’t let him. He shoves the dildo into Will harshly, causing the omega to cry out.

“I was worried that you may bleed a little our first time, but it seems that you’ve done a good job preparing yourself,” Hannibal praises, his cock rock hard between his thighs as Will clenches around the toy, “You see, most people think that there’s a term called ‘popping the cherry’. They’re ignorant in that sense, Will, because if they actually knew anything about their partner’s sex, then they’d know that bleeding is caused by lack of preparation, and is completely avoidable.”

Will turns slightly, “R-Really?”

“Yes, Will. But you’ve done such a good job on opening yourself up on your fingers, that I suspect we’d have no issues with any sort of lack of preparation. Thanks to you, I’m sure my knot will have no issue with sliding into you.”

Will groans and tightens around the toy, and when Hannibal manages to free it some, Hannibal sees first hand just how wet and ready Will is.

“I must say, Will, your body is absolutely ready to be bred.”

The omega cries out, “God yes— please, Hannibal— want your knot, want your pups!”

Hannibal chuckles, “Since you asked so nicely…”

Without much warning or pause, Hannibal completely removes the dildo and replaces it with hot, hard length. Instantly Will is crying out, bucking back and almost fighting against the sensation as he moans in complete desperation.

Hannibal has never seen, heard, or felt such rapturous things before, even when he used to hide in churches and pretend that he believed in something bigger than the itch under skin and the ignorance of man.

“Will,” the alpha breathes, his body now blanketing the omega’s adjacently.

Below him, Will is moaning and panting, his head moving up just enough for his hair to press against Hannibal’s covered shoulder. His hands and fingers twitch, and on impulse, Hannibal lets one of Will’s wrists free from the confines of the bench. It instantly finds itself lodged in Hannibal’s hair, fingertips sinking into the strands as Hannibal did into Will — rough, claiming. It startles Hannibal, and he actually allows Will to drag him down further until he’s almost ear to ear with the profiler.

“Hannibal,” Will says stoutly, syllables heavy but the most clairvoyant they’ve ever been up until this point, “I did not come in here for you to tease me. I did not come here for you to tell me about my fucking cunt and how it should be treated. I came here for you to bury that fucking knot of yours in me and to breed me until I’m undoubtedly carrying your pups, and I can tell you one thing for certain, Dr. Hannibal Lecter, I’m going to get what I fucking came for.”

Hannibal groans, feeling Will grip tighter onto his hair with an authority and force the alpha didn’t expect the omega to possess.

And then, he’s pounding into Will.

Which each thrust, Will’s vice in Hannibal’s hair loosens out of reflex. The alpha enjoys it though, the false pretense that Will has control. He likes the feeling of ramming into the profiler and making him incoherent with pleasure.

“Jesus,” Will hisses, and his hand falls away from Hannibal to scratch at the latch on his neck, “T-Take this one off, I— I want—“

Will doesn’t need to elaborate. Hannibal is quick to undo the latch, and instantly, Will is on him. His mouth is hot and needy against Hannibal’s, nothing but salt and saliva and tongue with the occasional grace of teeth. He groans into Hannibal’s mouth a couple of times, when the alpha is feeling what it’s like to taste a different part of Will, and when his forming knot begins to catch on Will’s flexing rim.

Will pulls back ever so slightly, just enough for him to breathe roughly alongside Hannibal. His eyes drift shut for a moment, delicate lashes caressing his cheeks and causing Hannibal to stare as though the secret to the universe was hidden somewhere within the sight. He’s so focused on looking at Will, that he doesn’t quite catch on to when his knot fully forms; however, he is aware of when Will looks back at him.

And he knows. He knows that Will sees, but he’s not sure what it might possibly be.

The same hand from before comes up, but this time, it is gentle in Hannibal’s locks. In fact, after a few moments, it comes down to cup the alpha’s cheek, a fond gesture as Hannibal knows their climax is emanate. Will exhales hotly, and his begins to move to the best of his ability to be in sync with Hannibal, his fingernails gently digging into the alpha’s cheekbone when his knot begins to fill up Will like he so desperately wants.

“Will,” Hannibal repeats, the name filled with awe and pride as the omega clenches around him.

“Do it.”

It’s all Hannibal needs, and he moves his mouth to the column of Will’s neck, and sinks his teeth into the flesh. Will screams, a blurry combination of pleasure and pain, as Hannibal’s teeth and knot lock into him.

He trembles under Hannibal, his pulse so frighteningly fragile under Hannibal’s incisors as he laps at Will’s throat, his hips making aborted thrusts as he begins to fill the omega with his come. The profiler grunts one final time, and goes practically limp under the psychiatrist as he breeds him.

The next few minutes for Hannibal are a blur. He’s on a primitive high — a carnal autopilot — as he make sure all of his come is taken by Will to cement their bonding. Below him, Will comes down, his pussy milking Hannibal for every drop he’s worth as he contently sighs.

“I was thinking,” Will murmurs, almost instantly back to normal as Hannibal finally finishes coming, “that a good name for a girl could be Abigail.”

It takes Hannibal a second, “Abigail?”

“Well, truthfully she could be annoying and so dramatic. ‘My dad was a murderer!’ Well, I can’t take that type of mentality, especially from our kids.”

“You—“

“Yes, Hannibal. I’ve known. I’ve always known. I just never cared.”

Hannibal is stiff in more ways than one now, “Why not tell Jack? Why refrain from turning me in?”

“Because,” Will answers simply, “I’d rather have my mate fuck me in our own home than in a state penitentiary.”

The alpha takes a few moments to process this, “This is, honestly, very surprising to me. I was— . . . not aware that this was going on. This seems wholly unlike you. Or, at least, the Will I have come to know.”

“You’re not the only one who can act when they want something, Hannibal,” Will smirks deviously, “Now hurry up and unknot me, I’m starving. You wouldn’t leave your mate— let alone your now, probably-expecting mate— hungry, would you?”

Hannibal smirks, because in so many ways, Will just turns out to be even better than he originally imagined he’d be.

“I think I might have some leftovers. How does a lying realtor sound?”

The omega eagerly mirrors his smirk, “Absolutely delicious, alpha.”