Chapter Text
There are biological sexes, such as male and female. A simple thing that was taught in kindergarten. There are boys and girls, men and women. These are also called first genders. And then, there are secondary genders, alpha, beta, and omega. Unlike first genders, which can be changed by gender-affirming surgeries or hormone therapy, secondary genders are harder, almost impossible to transition. A biological female can transition to male by taking testosterone injections and top surgery, and vice versa. But if you present as an omega, you're forever an omega, for the rest of your life.
However, the keyword here is almost, not entirely impossible.
That word is what Hannibal holds onto, a flimsy string of hope, for his current plan.
The first time Hannibal saw the profiler in Jack Crawford's office, his heart beat with desires after years of lying still in his ribcage.
Piercing blue eyes hid behind bland eyeglasses, wild, untamed dark chocolate curls framed the pale face with beautiful features, perfectly sculpted from the hand of god himself. Hannibal didn't believe in god, but he couldn't quite bring himself to accept the fact that the ethereal creature before him was created naturally either.
Talking to the profiler was another unworldly pleasant experience for him. Rude, grumpy, snarky, meaning to hurt his ego, and enraging him. Normally, Hannibal would've loved a piping hot braised tongue with fresh herbs slowly cooked from these rude people's own tongues. But he couldn't help the intrigued smirk on his lips from listening to the boy's rude comments.
Yes, he would love to enjoy that voice for the rest of his life, hearing it moan his name in blissful pleasure, or shaking with rage or grief. Both will sound like songs to his ears.
His name tasted like honey on his tongue as he rolled it on his mouth too. "Will Graham". Hannibal thought he might have grinned too wide, as Will visibly tensed up in his chair, putting up more of his defensive forts.
Absolutely adorable, but unnecessary and annoying.
The more he looked at the profiler, the more of him he wanted to commit to memory and worship for an eternity. Even more intense than the desire to carve the boy into his memory palace was the desire to possess him, physically and mentally. The alpha in Hannibal screamed at him to pin Will to the ground, bite him, claim him. Hannibal almost gave in to the temptation. As wonderful as the imagination of having his fangs bloodied from the blank canvas of Will's neck while he writhed uselessly under him, Hannibal had a career to keep.
Moreover, the boy's beta body wouldn't carry his claim permanently as an omega's would.
It was quick for Hannibal to come to the realization that Will was just a boring, bland beta. No matter how much the doctor invaded his personal space, practically shoving his nose in the boy's direction and flaring his nostrils, he couldn't catch any scent. At least not the omegan pheromone he was looking for, but the pungent smell of cheap aftershave and cologne that reminded him of the one on the lowest shelves in supermarkets. However, under all the unpleasant chemical scents, Hannibal caught a whiff of a slightly sweet tone, a perfect blend of chocolate and woods, which he believed to be Will's natural scent. Nevertheless, it did not give off any hint that the profiler might be an omega using scent blockers or suppressants.
Hannibal was confident of his sense of smell. He could even smell the scent of health problems off someone. No blockers nor suppressants on the current market were able to hide one's gender from him. And he couldn't sense any pheromone off Will.
Yet, the boy's sweet natural scent was delicious enough to excite him.
Searching in the grand library of his memory palace, Hannibal found records and theories of secondary gender transformation he had read during his years in medical school. He found them fictional at the time. Who would even think about changing their secondary genders? Alphas were proud of their outstanding physics and strength, omegas rely on their nature to seduce and shaping alphas as they pleased, and beta, well, they felt relieved that they wouldn't be controlled by the instincts of both dynamics. But now they finally proved themselves to be useful.
Apparently, there have been a handful of cases across medical history in which individuals experienced changes in their dynamics. These records are often regarded as lacking evidence and research. Therefore, it was not taught in the official medical education program, but rather something Hannibal picked up to read during recess. It was written that frequent exposure to pheromones of any gender could change one's gender to the opposite one. For example, interacting with too much alphan pheromone could change another alpha or beta into an omega. It was also believed to work in the opposite direction. Nevertheless, that individual also needed to have some types of health issues for their body to react to external influences. The more vulnerable the body, the more effective the transformation.
Another piece of information that caught Hannibal's attention is the rate of former beta transformers was significantly higher than that of other dynamics, and the rate of omega transforming was much higher. In other words, changing a beta into omega would be the easiest theoretically.
Hannibal grinned to himself, his fangs showing themselves behind his lips. Luck was standing on his side. Will was a beta, a stressed-out mess of a beta from what he could see. Hannibal could easily break the poor boy down to his most vulnerable state and build him up again while manipulating his body into a perfect omega.
Hannibal didn't care much about Will's secondary gender. Biology is only the second thing he considered in a partner, the most essential thing was the potential darkness. If Hannibal wanted him for himself, he would have him no matter who he was, alpha, beta, or omega. However, the thought of sinking his teeth into an omega, claiming his body and soul forever, sounded much more appealing. How beautiful it would be to have a bond so strong that even death could not do them apart.
He used to think that it would be impossible to leave a forever imprint on Will. It turned out that what he needed was a little bit of time.
Fortunately, Hannibal was a patient man.
What Hannibal wants to do sounds impossible in theory, but in reality, it's rather simple. What he needs to do is to make Will subconsciously associate his presence and scent with security and safety, and regard his pheromone as familiar. Will's body would then recognize Hannibal as a potential mate, thus trying to change itself to accommodate what he might need, which is an omega.
First thing first, Hannibal began bringing Will lunches. Filling, delicious, yet simple meals with sweet desserts were put on Will's desk, alongside a note with all the details of the food written on. He also more than often invited Will over his home for dinners, or brought containers of food to Wolftrap when Will didn't want to get away from the security of his own home.
It was not a burden for Hannibal to spend a significant amount of time planning out a whole detailed nutritional plan for Will. He loved providing food for his loved ones, and the sight of the boy moaning at the taste when biting into the food he cooked from special ingredients indulged him greatly. Not only that, coffee and frozen food wouldn't give Will's body the nutrition it required to make the significant secondary gender transformation. Hannibal wanted to make sure his beta body would be fatten up enough to prepare itself for what had yet to come.
Secondly, he made sure to familiarize Will to his touches. Will was extremely sensitive, too sensitive for a beta, to physical contact from everyone else. A brush over his hand made him jump, and a grip on his shoulder gave him shivers down his spine. Therefore, no one tried to get too close to Will, giving him plenty of space. Hannibal didn't, however. He stepped right into the border of Will's personal space, threatening to walk into it. He took many attempts to pass it. If Will flinched at it, Hannibal would take a step back, leaving a safe distance between them for Will to calm down. If Will didn't, he would get in deeper and deeper until their shoulders touch. Hannibal would also lean over Will's shoulders to look at dead bodies, crime scenes, or case files, taking it as an opportunity to smell Will's faint, sweet, natural scent.
This part of his plan had gone exceptionally well for an individual as jumpy as the beta. Will had been more and more relaxed and calm under Hannibal's touches. Hannibal took pride in himself for being the only one who could have a hand on the boy's shoulder when talking to him.
Finally, Hannibal took every opportunity to scent Will. Rubbing their sleeves together in fleeting brush of arms, letting his fingers linger a millisecond too long on Will's hand whenever Hannibal asked him to pass over something, wrapping his own scarf around the boy's neck when the boy left their therapy session into the freezing darkness of winter night, and pretending to forget his jacket at Will's place in order to sneak more of his pheromone into his sanctuary. Hannibal took great pleasure in reeking Will with his scent, and even pride when Beverly scrunched her nose when she breathed in Will's direction, complaining he stunk of alpha when Will was confused.
However, it was enough. Hannibal was patient, but he was still a mortal man. No matter how much he challenges god and fate by going against every odds and rules he could find, he could not wait for an eternity to claim the beta's soul and body. Therefore, he must speed up his plan.
Will was, more often than not, dragged by Jack Crawford and the FBI out of state to take a look at difficult scenes. He would ask different people to feed his dogs during those business trips, sometimes Alana, sometimes a hired caretaker, and most of the time, Hannibal. He even went as far as giving Hannibal the key to his own home, saying that it would perhaps become convenient in the future. Knowing that the profiler trusted him enough to ask him to take care of his pack of mutts was the greatest nourishment to feed Hannibal's pride. To which, he always tried to do his best in order to maintain that hard-earned trust, aside from using it for his advantage.
Hannibal would bring special treats and sausages for the dogs. He didn't have a passion as strong as Will's for the animal, only seeing them as loyal companions. Yet, love was infectious. He found himself smiling more often when watching the dogs devour the offerings he brought. Not a single soul ever knew the secret ingredient in his food, humans or animals. By taking care and offering delicious snacks to them, Hannibal was accepted by the pack of stray dogs as another member of their family.
Winning the dogs' love was another way to win Will's heart.
Aside from it, Hannibal would sneak his scent into every corner of Will's home. He stayed longer than necessary whenever he visited the small sanctuary in the middle of nowhere, lingering at the door while rubbing his wrist on the doorknob to leave the very last imprint of himself in Will's place. The sofa, the bed in the living room, even the abandoned one upstairs, Hannibal lay on them until his scent seeped into the flat pillows and hard, uncomfortable mattress. When he finally left the small home, everywhere is drenched in his alphan pheromone.
Despite this, when Will finally came home, Hannibal's scent had been somewhat faded, but that was all Hannibal needed. If his presence invaded the boy's home too much, he would be more cautious and eventually run away from him. Just a subtle hint of Hannibal's alphan scent was enough for the beta's mind to associate him with home, with peace. It would also encourage the idea of mating to the boy's body, possibly leading to the transformation to omega.
It was Hannibal's ultimate plan to change Will's secondary gender, to permanently claim Will Graham, tying his presence to him and him only. And it had been working. A little too well in Hannibal's opinion.
Will's scent had become more and more noticeable. The scent of forest and hot cocoa filled the air around him, only getting thicker and sweeter by days. It took Hannibal his life worth of self-control to not pounce at the profiler and bite his neck whenever passing by him.
The others had not noticed anything. Alana just asked him whether or not he changed to a different cologne. Beverly grinned at him and gave him a knowing look, and Jack? He was too obsessed with the Ripper's cases to care about the differences in his bloodhound. Will only seemed to be more and more confused and frustrated as Beverly pressed on him with the question of who's the lucky person.
They didn't notice Hannibal's subtle triumph smirk from far away either.
Hannibal looks at the clock, 7.15 pm. Will's session is within another ten minutes, yet Hannibal can smell the boy's scent from the other side of the door.
Will tends to arrive at his office sooner than their agreed time for a quarter of an hour, waiting outside and making up his mind. He will knock on the door at exactly 7.30 before opening the door.
Hannibal only leans back onto his seat and smiles to himself, pretending to not notice the noise of the others' nervous fidgeting and pacing.
At exactly 7.30, the doctor stands up and makes his way toward the door. As he opens it, Will's scent pours in, flooding the small office with his sweet scent like a thick blanket of temptation. Will smells almost like an omega in heat. Almost. The sweetness of hot chocolate mixing perfectly with the woody note of trees makes Hannibal's mouth water, itching to taste, to bite. The beta's face flushes a beautiful shade of crimson from his ears all the way to his neck, and curly locks of hair stick to his forehead. His usual sharp eyes are now glassy and unfocused. He looks disheveled, ruined even.
"Doctor...?"
Will asks, his voice trembles lightly.
Hannibal realizes he has been staring for far too long without saying anything. He coughs, trying to calm himself, then moves to make way for the profiler to come in. Yet, he still cannot resist taking in the sweet scent from Will, his nostrils flaring. It is a wonder that the other does not notice. If it were possible, Hannibal would love to bottle up the smell to use it as his cologne, to put it in a diffuser in his bedroom.
When the doctor is still stunned, standing at the door, Will makes his way toward the chair and plops down. His body slowly sags down into a half-lay, half-sit position with his hands spread over the chair arms.
"I'm sorry, doctor..." His southern accent slips back into his voice as he breathes heavily. "I've had a terrible fever today. I don't know why, but everything, every smell is so overwhelming, and I feel weird-"
"Do you mind if I check your temperature, Will?"
Hannibal cut him off. He rarely allows himself to be so rude, as he despises the rude and would hate to be considered one. However, he is simply too excited. He had already stood behind Will's chair, leaning forward to look at his flushed face, when Will was still rambling. His face is calm, unaffected, concealing the rumbling satisfaction and excitement in his chest.
His plan has worked. Will's body is changing itself. Sweating, fever-like, the overwhelmingly sweet omegan scent. Those are pre-heat symptoms. It is very likely that his heat will break in tonight or tomorrow.
And Hannibal just cannot wait to have a taste of the fruit of his hard work.
Will nods, and the doctor reaches out a palm to feel his soon-to-be mate. The big palm first presses flat against the profiler's forehead, then moves down to his cheeks, before settling into place on the plane of the unblemished pale neck. In each place, Hannibal lingers much longer than necessary, feeling the heat and softness of Will's skin. Will, however, does not mind. He even leans into the touch, nuzzling against the alpha's hand.
"I don't think you have a fever, dear."
Hannibal finally speaks. His hand has not left its place on the profiler's neck.
"Then what's it...?"
He's getting more and more dazed, taking way too long to respond to Hannibal.
"Pre-heat. You're on the verge of heat."
The doctor says blankly, as if it were normal.
"What? I'm a-"
"A beta. Yes, I'm aware."
"Then what?-"
"It's possible for betas to experience differences in their hormones when feeling stressed for a long period of time, leading to heat or rut as a way to relieve the feeling, despite it being too rare."
"Sounds a lot like you just made that up..."
"Are you the one who has a medical degree here, or am I?" Hannibal questions, and Will gets quiet immediately. "Do you feel any ache in your abdomen? Sexually aroused, desperate to be filled?"
"Don't phrase them like that."
"Yes or no, Will."
Will hesitates, then nods.
"Very well then. What you're experiencing, or will experience to be exact, is a pseudo-heat."
Hannibal lets the words sink into Will's foggy mind. He can't help the smirk on his lips as the boy's gears turn hard in his mind. Finally, Will asks.
"How long will it last?"
"Since you're not an omega biologically, I believe it would last one day, two days, as most, or until your body gets what it desires."
"What should I do then, Hannibal?"
Checkmate.
"Usually, omegas have two options, either to use dildos to relieve themselves or to find a partner to help them through heat. With your current circumstance, I think the latter would be more fitting, since you don't know much about omegas' biology."
"I don't think I'd want to ask anyone about it."
"I'm here, Will. I'd be happy to help you through this as a close friend" Mate. The word rings in his mind, yet is left unsaid.
Will hesitates again, swallowing his saliva.
"Can I trust you? To not tell anyone else?"
"You have my word, Will. I won't tell a single soul about this, about tonight."
Will's scent is getting thicker and sweeter. His heat will break soon. Hannibal stares at the way his skin is flushing pink, itching to taste the sweat on the profiler's skin. He won't be able to control himself any longer if Will keeps hesitating while offering himself on the plate like this.
"Please, Hannibal. Help me, please."