Lucas plays on the living room floor, his toys an assorted mess surrounding him. Will bends down on his knees so that he can be Lucas’ height and beckons his son forward.
“Papa will be home soon,” he coos, watching as Lucas’ face lights up at the mention of his father. “We have to clean you up.”
Lucas adores Hannibal and his smile is instantaneous. The tiny alpha’s wide, blue eyes crinkle into tiny crescents and his dimples show in his plump cheeks.
He rushes forward into his mother’s arms, a giggling bundle of energy. Will’s yellow sundress wrinkles but he pays it no mind, pressing his son to his chest. Will picks his son up with ease and carries him to the bathroom. There, Lucas is a good boy and tries not to fidget as his mother washes his hands and wipes his face clean with a damp wash cloth. Will straightens his son’s blue jumper and does his best to smooth down his hair as well but it’s a lost cause.
Interestingly enough, Lucas is a tiny replica of Will with his untamable, brown curls and creamy complexion. There’s no mistaking which parent he takes after. When he grows older though, Lucas’ soft features will fade into sharp cheek bones and broad shoulders much like Hannibal’s – but for the time being he is Will’s precious, baby boy.
The small alpha makes grabbing motions at his mother, “Up, up!” he demands incessantly.
Will obliges and carries Lucas back to the living room, nuzzling his son’s cheek affectionately as he walks. Lucas has just barely turned three and is at that stage where he’s beginning to form full sentences but still need’s his momma’s help to clarify new words for him. The two pick up all of Lucas’ toys, puts them in his bin and tidies up the room, finishing just in time as Hannibal pulls into the driveway.
Will has just enough time to give Lucas a last once over – Hannibal prefers everything to be clean and meticulous, his family included. Will is smoothing down the front of his dress, his slim fingers brushing away the wrinkles, just as Hannibal opens the door. The omega immediately pulls his husband into a sweet kiss, their mouths pressing together for only a moment before Will breaks away. The taste of bitter chocolate and cinnamon lingers on his tongue.
“Welcome home, sweetie,” Will says, taking the alpha’s coat in hand. His husband had been at work for most of the day, per usual. Hannibal’s schedule is tightly packed with various clients. Will is, of course, ecstatic that his husband is such a successful psychiatrist but from time to time, he wishes that Hannibal could spend more time at home. He knows Lucas feels the same way, as evident by the way he clings to his father’s leg and smiles up at him adoringly.
That night, Hannibal prepares a succulent meal of tender, roast veal in a Cumberland sauce with spinach and mushrooms on the side. Lucas’ palette isn’t quite as refined but he eats his papa’s dinner anyway, the meat cut into tiny squares for his convenience. Will cooks less often than what may be considered appropriate; Hannibal loves cooking and Will can only assume he finds it therapeutic by how at ease he is in the kitchen. Most alpha’s simply want to put their feet up after a long day’s work but if Hannibal finds joy in what should traditionally be an omega’s task, who is Will to stop him?
Will smiles at Lucas who’s sat across from him in his high-chair, struggling to stab at a piece of meat with his fork. His cherubic face is pinched into an unhappy pout as the veal skids across his plate. Hannibal will of course correct his manners once he’s old enough to learn.
Will sets his own fork down and clears his throat.
“Lucas, why don’t you show Papa what you learned today?”
Hannibal tilts his head in interest, swallows what had been in his mouth and turns his attention to the little alpha. Lucas looks puzzled for a moment before he emits a small, “oooh,” in understanding. He looks to his papa and counts from one to ten without pause.
He beams at Hannibal once he’s done, awaiting praise from his father.
Hannibal gives his son a smile, one that Will has become familiar with. It is the forced upturn of his lips that Hannibal gives in polite company. Will breathes in sharply, annoyed that Hannibal would wear his person suit to the dinner table.
“And now in Danish,” Will says, studying Hannibal’s profile. He sees a quick glimpse of surprise, Hannibal’s eyes shifting to meet Will’s before he settles his attention back to his son. The numbers are awkward and foreign on Lucas’ tongue but he does his best and makes it all the way to the last number. This time, Hannibal gives his son a sincere smile and ruffles his hair.
“Well done, Lucas,” he says, bemused.
Will doesn’t know much about his husband’s past. Hannibal refuses to talk about his parents or why he had come to America. Will doesn’t even know if Hannibal has any siblings or not. During their wedding, Hannibal’s side of the church had been filled – yes – but only by colleagues, esteemed associates, and the very few Hannibal would actually call friends.
Will had met the alpha in his last year of high school, which was coincidentally the last year of Hannibal’s studies in college. Something about the alpha had intrigued Will but he never thought the interest would be returned. Although Hannibal had seemingly no family to speak of, he was no doubt well-respected and had many connections throughout the east coast. He was a handsome, young alpha who somehow had exorbitant amounts of money at his disposal. To say he had been a sought after bachelor would be an understatement.
During the courting process, Hannibal had swept Will off his feet. He was ever the gentleman and once he had proposed to Will, they had had much more time alone together (Will’s parents had practically thrown him into Hannibal’s open arms). During those times, Hannibal would whisper lovingly into the omega’s ear and in Danish as well upon Will’s request. The omega enjoyed listening to the beautiful, foreign language roll off of his alpha’s tongue and had even picked up on a few words himself; which was how he was able to teach Lucas those numbers. Will knows Hannibal would love to teach Lucas Danish but he simply doesn’t have enough time to spare.
After dinner, Will washes the dishes, dries them, and puts them away. He gives Lucas his bath (which the little alpha absolutely abhors) before tucking his son into bed. Lucas is all tuckered out from the day and once his head hits the pillow, he’s out like a light.
While Hannibal showers, Will undresses and wraps a silk robe around his body, pulling it taut around his waist. He’s sat at his vanity when Hannibal enters their bedroom with nothing but a towel around his waist.
Will stares at his husband through the reflection, watches as Hannibal bends over to access the drawer that contains his pajamas.
“We’re running out of meat, dear,” Will says casually while he takes out his diamond studs and places them in his jewelry box. “I think you’ll have to make a trip to the store tomorrow.”
Will gets up and crosses the space between them. Hannibal still hasn’t dressed yet and so Will takes the opportunity to press himself against his husband’s still damp skin.
Usually, Will is the one to do the grocery shopping … with one exception. Hannibal always insists on buying meat himself, assuring his omega that he’s simply picky with meat in particular. Will isn’t stupid, though.
If he was, Hannibal would never have married him.
Hannibal raises a brow but cups Will’s face anyway, his thumb swiping over the omega’s delicate cheekbones. Will leans into to the touch and breathes in the clean scent of soap and the richness of Hannibal’s natural scent. He wets his lips, draping his arms around the taller man’s neck.
“I’ll be sure to buy some after work,” Hannibal breathes, tugging at the tie of Will’s robe. It falls open easily, revealing Will’s lithe body waist fitted in the white corset he had worn all day under his clothes. It starts just below his chest, the ribbed lining of it accentuated with delicate strands of lace.
Hannibal can’t help the rumble of satisfaction that catches deep within his throat. His mate is beautiful beyond words.
Will’s heart pounds in his chest as Hannibal noses the pulse point at his neck where their bond’s bite is located, the scar tissue white and slightly raised. He wants to tell Hannibal tonight that he knows, he knows. He’s tired of keeping the secret, wants to desperately relieve himself of the burden.
“We’re having a barbeque this weekend, remember?” Will’s breath hitches as Hannibal lets his teeth graze against the omega’s tender skin. “The Crawfords are coming over and so are Bev and her omega,” he says, fingers digging into the flesh of Hannibal’s thick neck. “You’ll have to pick up more than usual.”
“That’s fine,” Hannibal murmurs, slipping his hands past Will’s silk robe to his back. Enveloping Will in his arms and with deft fingers, he begins to undo the clasps on the corset. With the last clasp undone, the corset falls to the ground between them.
Even after half a decade of being married, Will still blushes under the heat of Hannibal’s hungry gaze. The alpha, with his hands still around his omega’s waist, starts walking backwards with slow, deliberate steps until the backs of his legs touch the armchair that sits in front of the fireplace. He sits down, pulling Will with him.
The armchair is spacious, more than big enough to comfortably fit both men. Will’s knees are planted on either side of Hannibal’s waist. The towel is but flimsy material between them and Hannibal watches in satisfaction as his wife blushes. He knows Will can feel his erection, how hard his beautiful omega makes him. The only thing Will wears is his black robe and one of the sleeves has fallen off his shoulders, pooling at his elbow.
Hannibal lets the pads of his fingers trace the contours of his wife’s stomach. His fingers stop at one of the indentations the corset has left upon Will’s skin. The corners of his lips tug downward for a brief moment.
“You shouldn’t wear the corsets anymore,” he says with a hum. He lets his fingers wander once more, traveling upward until they graze over one of Will’s rosy nipples.
Will bites his lip and can feel slick begin to pulse from his cunt, dripping down the insides of his creamy thighs. “I have to watch my figure,” he breathes half playfully, half serious. He reaches between them and moves the towel out of the way to expose Hannibal’s thick cock. “What would the other omegas in the neighborhood say?”
Hannibal begins to roll the pink bud between his fingers and listens to the omega whimper. Will’s own cock presses incessantly at his stomach, hard and practically begging to be touched and fondled. Will pulls Hannibal’s hand away from his chest. He wraps his own hand around it, a stark contrast created by the slimness of his fingers next to the alpha’s own tanned, thick ones. He lets his thumb sweep over one of the prominent veins in Hannibal’s meaty hand.
Instead of pushing it towards his cock, Will guides his husband’s hand to his wet entrance. He wants to feel those thick digits dig inside him.
Hannibal wets his lips and stares at Will like a man who had been wandering the desert, presented with an oasis to quench his thirst. “You’re beautiful,” he says as his presses teasingly against the edges of Will’s cunt. The omega whines, at both his alpha’s praise and the emptiness he feels aching between his legs.
Will mewls a delicate, high note as Hannibal pushes two of his fingers into his dripping, hot cunt. He clenches desperate around them and falls forward, slumping against Hannibal’s front, his neglected cock pressing into the alpha’s abs. He wraps his arms around the alpha’s neck, gasping for air as Hannibal begins to finger fuck him, foregoing any sense of slowness or preparation.
“You’re absolutely perfect.” Hannibal purrs, thrusting faster and harder. “I could devour you whole.”
For a moment, Hannibal’s words bring Will to clarity and he almost wants to cry at all the horrible cannibal puns his husband his made over the years, but then Hannibal’s digits still and then curls in a come hither motion, rubbing deliciously at his prostate. Will cries out incoherently and begins to beg for Hannibal’s cock. He’s desperate, wants to sit on it and ride it until he can feel his alpha’s knot catch on his rim. Wants to feel his alpha – his beautiful mate, an imperceptible monster hidden in human flesh – brand the insides of his pussy with his seed.
“Hannibal, Hannibal,” he keens, “I need your cock, please, please,” he begs, over and over and until Hannibal shushes him with a kiss, openmouthed and wet.
“I want you to come from just my fingers first,” Hannibal says, his words low and grainy. “And then I’ll let you ride my cock. Can you be a good girl and do that for me?” He uses his free hand to reach up and smooth away a few loose curls, brushing them back lovingly.
Will nods desperately, will do anything for his alpha. He grips Hannibal’s shoulders tight and arches his back, his hips canting in rhythm to Hannibal’s fingers. His breaths are but short gasps for air as he tries to seek his release. His slick is a constant trickle, dripping down his thighs and onto his alpha’s hand.
Not long after, Will’s whimpers and mewls become higher and more needy – so loud that Hannibal almost begins to worry that the noise will wake their son. Will gives one last whine before coming, the thick ropes of his seed painting Hannibal’s torso, his cunt convulsing around the alpha’s fingers.
He slumps forward, his robe a wrinkled mess, a stripe of cum painted on the fringe of it. Will shudders through his orgasm, panting, his lips parted and cherry red. The orgasm is a dull, throbbing pleasure, almost muted by how wonderful it feels when Hannibal finally enters him. The orgasm felt good, but it’s nothing compared to what Will knows how good it feels to finally have his alpha’s cock sliding into his wet, sensitive hole, its wide girth a delicious, burning stretch.
Hannibal finally slides his robe off both shoulders and it piles behind Will, a lightweight on Hannibal’s lap. Will leans back, placing his hands on Hannibal’s thighs and begins to ride him in earnest. Hannibal licks his lips at the sight the omega creates, Will’s torso a long, delicate line of flesh and bone, his cock drooling precome. The omega’s eyes flutter close, his eyelashes fanning across his cheek bones, the perfect picture of bliss.
Hannibal groans as Will’s cunt squeezes around him as he bounces in his lap.
“Such a good girl,” he praises, his fingers digging into the flesh of Will’s hips.
“I know, I know,” the omega whines back, rolling his hips and whimpering as his prostate is battered relentlessly by the head of Hannibal’s cock.
Hannibal murmurs praise in English and other times, he can’t help the few words of Danish that slip into his speech. And Will answers each time the same: “I know, I know,” he keens.
The last straw is when Hannibal wraps his hand around his omega’s cock. It takes only two tugs before Will is crying out his release, the waves of his orgasm so much more powerful than the first one, knocking the very breath from his lungs. He’s faintly aware of the added stretch in his cunt, plugging him up as Hannibal moans his own release. With every orgasm, Hannibal’s hips buck up desperately, as if he’s not deep enough as it is.
His words are slurred and drunk from pleasure as he whispers words of love into Will’s ear.
“I know,” is all Will can say back, still basking in the afterglow of his orgasm against Hannibal’s chest. He absentmindedly plays with the light dusting of hair on his husband’s chest, tracing invisible patterns with his forefinger.
“You’re repeating yourself, my love,” Hannibal rumbles, perfectly content with his wife in his lap, his knot secured deep inside Will’s pussy.
Will swallows and his fingers still. He realizes this is the perfect time to tell Hannibal, when they’re locked together, either party unable to move away even if they wanted to
“That’s because I know,” he says slowly, each word heavy and drawn out, suspended in the silence between them. He pulls away so that he can look upon Hannibal’s face properly. With a fine-boned hand, he reaches out to cup Hannibal’s cheek, wets his lips and nods hesitantly.
Hannibal freezes and Will can practically see the cogs turn in his head, the post-coital glow long gone. Hannibal’s gaze is calculating.
“What do you know?” he says, his words betraying no emotion, a stark contrast to the intimate position he’s in.
Will gives Hannibal a somewhat sad smile, his thumb grazing over the soft skin of his mate’s cheek. Before Hannibal, Will hadn’t really known what it felt like to be truly happy; he had felt like he had been trapped in a small space society had placed him in as an omega – an accessory to hang off some alpha’s arm for the rest of his life. And then he had met Hannibal. Together, they had somehow gouged a small corner of paradise for themselves within the drudgery and meaninglessness of everything around them.
Will wants to share his life with Hannibal, wants to grow old with him until they’re nothing but dust and bones. He wants everything Hannibal has to offer, even the blood-soaked, ugly truth he manages to hide from the rest of the world.
“I know that you’re my alpha,” Will says with a small, content sigh. The underlying meaning of his words goes unspoken between them. His fingertips trace over the alpha’s strong jawline to the outline of his lips. Will has always loved Hannibal’s lips, the peculiar shape of them, long and yet not too thin.
“You’re my mate,” he continues, watching as Hannibal’s expression slowly softens with every word. “And the father of my child.” Will squeezes around Hannibal’s thick knot purposefully, reveling in the deep moan he’s able to draw from his husband’s mouth.
“And I love every part of you,” he says with a genuine smile, tucking a curl behind his ear.
He leans forward and captures Hannibal’s lips in a kiss, moaning sweetly as his husband responds with fervor. He pulls away to kiss the tip of the alpha’s nose, a childish display of affection he can’t help within the moment.
Hannibal gazes at his wife with unrestrained love and adoration, can hardly believe his mate is so, so perfect.
“Would you like to pick up the meat with me tomorrow?”
Will shrugs, his small smile growing wider and wider.
“I’d love to.”