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Hannibal looks at the omega sleeping in the passenger seat; Will begins to stir as the engine is turned off, but doesn’t wake up completely, curling up in the chair and wrapping his arms around himself, instinctively drawing into the warmth of the heated seat.
“Will”, Hannibal says quietly, running a hand over the scent gland on the omegas neck
"Mmmmmh". Will moans, sleepily brushing him off. He lazily smacks his lips and rubs his eyes. "Huh?"
“We’re home”, Hannibal says gently, running a hand through Will’s hair. He wants to do so many things, some of them involving throwing Will into the back seat, but he’s learned that delayed gratification is the best kind.
“Let’s go inside.”
"Yeah," Will murmurs, still only half awake. He piles out, meandering along a few steps behind the Good Doctor. Per usual, the puppies attack them when they go inside. Instantly awake, with a wide smile, Will stoops down to pat and kiss each one, and jogs off with them with a promise to let them outside. As the dogs loop the yard, Will scrubs at his hair and glances randomly at his watch. "Shit," he mutters. "Is it 7pm? Already? I missed our therapy time, didnt I. Why didn't you wake me?"
“I didn’t have the heart to.” Hannibal looks at him fond openness. “You were so peaceful.”
Hannibal steps closer, enveloping Will with strong arms, and pressing a long kiss to his forehead.
“But, therapy would still be in your best interest. Wait for me in the study, please.”
Will makes a disappointed sound, like he'd just relaxed into Hannibal's arms and didn't want him to go. Playing a devilish trick to get his way, he leans back a little, tilting his head just-so to nipping softly at Hannibal's jaw. "But Daddy, do I have to?"
Hannibal huffs a laugh and leans back, raising an eyebrow.
“For that exact reason, yes.”
He extricates himself and goes into the study, palming his cock once out of Will’s view to relieve some of the pressure. He wonders whether he’ll make Will suck him off in his chair, or whether Hannibal will eat him out over the desk.
Will doesn’t even bother hiding his pout. He stretches once, peeling his sweater off before obediently making his way to the Office. The sweater had been itching his nipples raw the entire ride home. There is a warmth in his belly, and it's starting to spread outward to his limbs. It can't be what he knows it is, because he just *finished*. He only grumbles a little as he closes the office door and slides down into the overstuffed chaise lounge, with its soft, plush coverings. He wonders momentarily if they were recently purchased. They smell new and he doesn't recall seeing them before.
But god, do they feel wonderful. The fuzzy blanket in particular, feels delicious against his exposed skin as he sinks down into it. He hugs the suede leather throw pillow, flipping onto his stomach and tucking it under his chin. He knows the chaise puts his ass at the right angle. Jesus but he is horny all the sudden
...what the hell...?
Hannibal is immensely pleased by the little display. Will isn’t in heat, but thanks to Hannibal’s crafty cherry cake Will enjoyed last night he’ll think he is for the next 24 hours, which is enough for Hannibal’s purposes. He could take the Omega now, the results would be the same - Will would believe himself in heat and everyone gets a happy ending. However in order to fully satisfy his sadistic urges, he needs to make Will squirm a bit first.
“William”, he says curtly, trying to stamp down his own excitement. “Sit up, please.”
Will frowns slightly. He's very hesitant to leave the comfort of the bedding, even if it's only his upper half. A look of genuine concern flashes across his face as he does as he's told. "Hannibal," he says, his voice falling into a serious tone. "What is it? Is everything okay?"
Hannibal schools his face and cusses himself internally. He’d sounded too harsh and he knew it.
“Everything is fine, Will”, he allows himself a smile. “You’re very distracting like this. I want you to get the most from therapy, although possibly it’s too soon after your heat.”
That was naughty - he knew that making Will out to be a fragile omega who couldn’t cope with his own heats would only make Will more determined to continue with the session.
Will steels himself, even as his expression relaxes. He crosses his legs, hands in his lap, determined to look every bit the serious Investigator coming to his normal, everyday, Psych appointment with his totally normal, definitely-not-hotter-than-a-Lava-pit Psychiatrist that he's totally not sleeping with every waking chance he gets.
"Sorry," he offers gently. "I thought...well, anyway. It doesn't matter." He bashfully adjusts his glasses, trying desperately (and unsuccessfully) to hide his embarrassment.
Hannibal feels a frisson of excitement - he loves Will in all his forms but if he had to pick, Will-On-Edge is his favourite. Will-On-Edge is sharp and fierce, with the promise of violence behind those blue eyes....
Come on Lecter, focus.
“I thought we’d discuss your tendency to call me Daddy whenever you want to get your own way.” He says breezily.
Will's face absolutely loses all its color.
After what seems like an eternity, he opens his mouth, and very softly says. "I'm sor----....does that bother you?"
The two thoughts are doing mortal combat in his brain. How fucking DARE he???? He promised never to bring up their romantic life in session, and he's never once--NOT ONCE---even so much as hinted that he didn't like it!!!
Before he can even allow Hannibal to answer, he switches gears, his soft eyes turning ice blue, his back rigid, jaw set. "You know damn well I have to."
Hannibal, master of self control, lord of the deadpan, king of the micro expression, has to fight to keep the shit eating grin off his face.
“This isn’t about what I know, Will. This is about what you understand about yourself. If I were to give you those answers it would be besides the point of the exercise. Why do you think you do it?”
Will tosses his head away with a sharp, visceral scoff. "Oh come on, "Doctor". You don't think I know what it does to you when I call you that?" He brings his gaze, slowly, slowly back to Hannibal's. "You practically pop a knot when I say it. It's like flipping a switch, or pouring gasoline on an already well-lit pyre."
After a feverish moment he swallows hard and adds, nearly silently, "...you burn for me."
Hannibal grips the arms of his chair and crosses his legs, hoping for nonchalant but settling for pique.
“This isn’t about the effect the word has on me, William, although you are entirely correct. This is about why YOU say it.”
He tilts his head, inviting a response. When none is forthcoming he says-
“Or shall I break the rules and tell you?”
"Stop", Will rasps, looking genuinely hurt. It's a ploy of course. One that Hannibal has fallen for before (and Will is betting on it working this time). He lets his tongue flicker out to whet the surface of his lips, getting them nice and perky and dick-sucking red. "Stop playing with me. You...you said it yourself I'm not at my best. And you chose now--of all times--to talk about *this*?"
He rests his head in one hand, making it look extra-convincing but being sure that his demeanor almost perfectly mimics that of a stressed Omega, submissively exposing just a sliver of the mating mark. Any Alpha could clearly see that His Omega is in distress and would be helpless to do anything besides rush to comfort him.
And the second Hannibal does...Will will have effectively won
Hannibal’s head is spinning at the display of submissive distress in front of him. It’s almost rut inducing, watching Will flinch and fawn in order to be let out of this stressful situation. He lets his eyes flick over Will’s lips, red from where he has bitten them. That solves that dilemma, blow job in the chair it is, from his sweet, distressed omega who would do anything at the moment to-
Wait a minute.
Will Graham, submissive, pleading, admitting that a heat has gotten to him....bollocks.
“A beautiful attempt at deflection, William. You are truly captivating. I don’t think we will continue with this session much longer, but you have a choice. Answer the question, and I will make you feel such pleasure that you’ll never want to leave the nest again. Avoid the question, and you spend the next month, and your next heat, untouched. So -
Why do you like calling me Daddy?”
Will's eyes flick up at him. And before he can decide for certain to let the ruse fall, it's already too late. His guard slipped for just long enough, leaving him completely exposed.
And the prospect of having to spend his next heat alone, bond-starved and barely clinging to his sanity, it's...devastating.
But.
Hannibal said he must answer the question, not that it had to be the truth.
His voice small, eyes shifting, and testing the waters as meekly as possible, he says "...I don't. I don't like it."
Hannibal’s breath stops in his throat. He is a self assured person, and through his bond with Will he knows that actually this isn’t true. He knows that Will does like it, and that Will is just manoeuvring the situation to suit himself, of which Hannibal would usually approve. No, it isn’t the lie that sticks in his craw; it’s the fact that he’s been outplayed. Will did answer the question. Will answered the question in a way that would hurt and manipulate back, and now Hannibal is also bruised, confused, frustrated and entirely unsure of what to do.
The resulting emotion is rage, towering and incandescent. In a normal house there would be shouting, and a thrown vase; in the amphitheatre of Hannibal Lecter’s rock hewn presence the result is a silence so deafening that the windows seem to shake in their frames.
And then he gets up and leaves.
Will sits there in the silence, staring forward, unblinking. He swallows. Hard.
Hannibal has never done this.
Hannibal has NEVER. Done. THIS.
Tears flow and it's uncontrollable, even as Will bites his lip to force himself to focus on the pain instead.
That selfish fucking bastard!!! He deserved it! He placed Will in an impossible situation! He knows damn well that Will is fucking PLAYING him and he just can't stand that for once-FOR ONCE--Will is playing it better than the Grand Master himself. Fuck him!
His heart stopped listening to his pathetic excuse for reasoning the second Hannibal walked out. This struck a nerve. And whether or not Will was provoked, Will *lied*. He lied to his Alpha, the one person who saw Will and all his flaws and accepted him---nay, LOVED him---for it!.
Will has been a terrible, terrible Omega. What the fuck does it matter who among them is right, if neither of them are happy?
"Fuck," he swears beneath his breath, and pounds off after him.
"Hannibal!, Hannibal, wait----!"
It is obvious that he was planning on going out. He catches him at the door, coat on, keys in hand, and pulls him back with all his strength, holding on for dear life. "HANNIBAL, GODDAMN IT STOP!"
Hannibal says nothing, and doesn't turn around, but the pause is a chance. Will's got to get this right.
"Please," Will chokes out, eyes glittering with genuine tears, his whole body shaking. Then he adds, softly. "It's okay. I deserve punishment. Please, I ...I can take it. Lock me away, leave me to my misery, I don't care, only please. Please don't leave me."
If Hannibal were to be truly honest, which was not often, as he preferred to layer the truth to make it more palatable, he is grateful for the out Will has given him. If he had left then it would have created a situation that could not be easily undone, which is far from what he wanted, having been the architect of this entire farce in the first place. You do this a lot, he remarks to himself.
He turns around in Will’s arms, feeling a relieved breath leave the other man, vaguely registering the sound of his car keys hitting the floor as he envelopes Will in a strong embrace. He scent marks Will gently, allowing a single tear to fall as he lets remorse and anguish and desperate wanting sing through their bond for a brief moment before he gets himself in check.
“I’m sorry”, he says, before he starts to steer them back inside.
“I’m sorry”, he says again as he picks Will up and begins to carry him upstairs, pressing small kisses to the underside of his jaw, interrupted only when he stumbles on the top step and they crumple in a laughing heap on the landing.
Will is still shivering, but his bright eyes shine with gratefulness. He barely misses a beat as he kisses Hannibal all over, his grip so firm Hannibal struggles a bit for air. "M'sorry, Alpha," Will murmurs into his neck. "I misbehaved. I lied. I'm so sorry. I ...I love it. I love calling you Daddy. I love calling you anything you want me to call you..." he noses and nips Hannibal's scent gland, letting out a desperate mewl. "I-----oh..." suddenly he holds his stomach as a wave of need breaks over him. "Oh...fuck." he shakes his head, murmuring to himself "C'mon, stupid body. Not now...."
Hannibal is faced, not for the first time this evening, with the realisation that he has screwed himself over. Where the first part of the evening has provided the opportunity for some evidently much needed emotional bonding, the stimulant laced cherry cake has ensured that Will is going to be a needy mess for the rest of the night. With a sigh, Hannibal accepts that he’s going to have to fall on his own sword. Whether he makes a confession or not can wait until the morning.
He rolls Will over so he can pick him up and carries him, bridal style, into the bedroom, where the nest is still constructed from Will’s actual heat.
He lays Will, who is already feverish and incoherent, in the nest and begins removing his clothes, pressing kisses to each inch of skin that he uncovers. He can feel the slick through Will’s trousers already.
Will helps Hannibal get his clothes off, encouraging him with feverish kisses and impatiently tugging at Hannbal's belt and the fly of his trousers, with no care as to whether or not he tears them. He immediately flips himself onto his stomach, presenting like an eager Omega whore, his ass fully up in the air. There is no time for self-respect; he is literally burning up from the inside out. The stress of Hannibal's interrogation mixed with the remnants of his heat must have caused some kind of flare-up. Whatever it is, it's intense and painful and running down both legs.
"Please," Will rasps, pathetically pushing his hips higher.
Hannibal lays over Wills back and licks at the mating mark, still raw and tender from Will’s heat. He smells wonderful, that stimulant was worth the money, and makes beautiful desperate noises every time Hannibal’s tongue touches his neck. With a practiced motion Hannibal threads an arm under Will’s hips, lifting him back up into the lordosis pose. The smell of slick is everywhere - Hannibal licks from Will’s perineum up to his hole, feeling his knot trying to fill out already just from the taste alone. He teases Will’s cock with his hand, enjoying the way it jumps and twitches, and the delightful desperate noises now coming from the omega.
Taking his big Alpha cock in hand Hannibal lines himself up and thrusts inside in one motion, moaning deeply. Normally outside of Will’s heats he likes to fuck face to face, and take it slow, but tonight is all about animalistic need. He snaps his hips forward, withdraws almost all the way before doing it again. Will whines and tries to push his hips back even more, and that’s all Hannibal needs, setting a brutal pace and pounding into his omega, who sounds almost amazed at the amount of pleasure he’s feeling. He wraps a hand around Will’s cock, stroking in time with the punishing rhythm.
With a loud, wordless shout Hannibal forces his knot inside Will, who cries ‘Yes’ as he feels it catch inside his rim. Hannibal’s mind goes blank as he comes for what feels like forever, Will’s body squeezing and rippling around him, drawing him further in and locking him in place.
Will has never felt this full. It would seem that whatever this extra heat is doing to him it is also doing to his Alpha mate--- his body convulses in time with Hannibal's as he rides out the aftershocks, ribbons of come and slick spurting from him. His belly, his poor, formerly empty womb--is getting flooded with his Alpha's seed and it's enough to force yet another pulsating orgasm from deep within. He pulls away instinctively at the uncomfortable stretch, his belly swelling and rounded and full. But the Alpha's still-swelling knot is relentless. It pulls against his rim and invades his walls, a solid reassurance that Will is going absolutely nowhere. Hannibal lets out a stifled groan, an indication that Will's squirming is hurting him, too. He tries his best to submit and be still as his belly pooches, putting his head to the pillow and stilling his hips. He buries his face in the sweat-soaked sheets as a sharp cry tears itself from deep within. His body responds in kind, wringing every last precious drop of Alpha cum from his mate.
A feverish thought flashes through his brain for just a nanosecond. No, no it will not be possible for him to become pregnant. He has been faithful to take his heat suppressants. Whatever this sudden lapse is, it surely wont affect the effectiveness of his medication.
His fears quelled for the moment, it is chased away by the a deeper, more primal thought; having Hannibal's baby would be wonderful. He blushes a little, and its only when Hannibal asks him what he's thinking that he realizes he's smiling.
"Only how happy I am in this moment," he offers, and it is the absolute truth.
Hannibal, ever a master of manipulation of both mind and body, manages to turn Will onto his back even with his knot still locked deep inside. Will moans contentedly as Hannibal lowers himself completely onto his mate, sealing their bodies together and offering Will a delicate, lingering kiss.
Will's legs lazily entwine with Hannibal's. He draws little figure-8's on the Alpha's arms, in sweat-soaked circles as they both enjoy the rare peace that comes with the post-coital knotting bond. Will falls into a heavy sleep almost instantly with the vision of a curly-haired, silver-eyed little boy dancing in his dreams.