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Omega Mine

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“I hope you can appreciate how important this evening is to me. Dr. Lecter is well regarded in our circles and rarely accepts dinner invitations. So, I consider it an honor he’s agreed to dine with us. He’s a very busy man, with his recent consulting with the FBI, so things must go without the slightest hitch. Do you understand?”

He understood and absolutely did not care. Another evening of Frederick trying to impress an alpha with a higher social status than him, hoping to move himself up one more rung on the ladder. Will said nothing and only looked at Frederick with a neutral expression.

Frederick knew that look—he hated it, it was the Will Graham-Chilton version of ‘I do not give a fuck’. Was it really too much to ask that he behave like his spouse for one evening?

“Do not look at me like that! You will behave like the good spouse for once! I’ve had enough of you trying to embarrass me!”

Will looked him blankly, “Embarrass you? When have I ever embarrassed you Frederick?”

“You know perfectly well, whenever we go out in public, you defy me every chance you get! Do you even care how that makes me look to the other distinguished alphas in my group?! How does it look if I can’t even control my own omega!?”

Will shrugged, stood up and headed towards the door, cutting short Frederick’s next rant.

“Where are you—"

“I’m sorry husband. I promise you I will behave. Dr. Lecter is that strange alpha we met last week at the opera?”

“He’s a bit eccentric, but yes. It was the only time you were civil all evening. He actually seemed to think you charming, if you can believe that.”

“He was interesting, unlike most of your friends. If you’re finished, I’m going to lay down, it’s been a long day.”

Will walked gracefully to the door, taking long almost lazy strides that accentuated the lithe lines of his body. The body Frederick was mad for, and one he rarely got to have. He was so enamored with watching him move he forgot to ask what on earth could have been long about his day when he did absolutely nothing. 


Will's eyes were still rolling when he walked into his private omega sanctuary. Luckily for him, Frederick knew little about omegas and believed everything he read. So, Will had a grand little haven of his own full of plush, soft things with a huge king-sized bed that was like laying in a cloud. He threw himself across the bed, rubbing his face against the cashmere throw he insisted needed when Frederick really pissed him off one day. All those books about Omega’s delicate nature was mostly bullshit alpha posturing. He’d rather his room be filled with books and fishing equipment, but that was deemed unsuitable. But he left it alone since it gave him his own space away from Frederick.  As much as he griped, Frederick wasn’t the worst mate—he was wealthy, well-regarded (mostly) and had a respectable profession, but not what Will imagined for himself growing up the only omega in his family. 

They were ordinary middle class, with an alpha/beta couple and three children. Their third child being born not only an omega, but a rare male omega was seen as a blessing and the road to bringing the family the fortune and notoriety that alluded them. His entire upbringing was in preparation for the day he’d be old enough to wed a hopefully prestigious alpha. His father took a second job to afford the best private school because most alphas of note expected their spouse to be well-educated. He did remarkably well, always finishing the year near the top of his class, but his dark curls, blue eyes and near-perfect skin drew the most attention.

Despite all the talk of progress, they all wanted a beautiful omega on their arm. He found the whole thing vapid and ridiculous, but he hoped that once he was married off to a wealthy alpha, he’d be able to have the life he dreamed of. He wanted to attend an ivy league university and study forensic psychology and then see as much of the world as possible. Alphas that insisted their spouse stayed at home were considered old-fashioned, though the practice was still common in certain echelons of society. When he officially started dating after his 18thbirthday, he tried to avoid the older ones with outdated ideas.

Unfortunately, the final decision was left in the hands of his father, who had outdated ideas of his own. When a very respected doctor from an old family made an aggressive bid for his hand, his father enthusiastically accepted on his behalf. No amount of begging, raging or threats to run away would change his mind. In the end, he had little choice but to accept Frederick’s proposal—condemning him to a life of extreme boredom since Frederick didn’t think he needed to work or go away to school.

For now, he could only read every book on the subject he longed to study and hope either Frederick changed his mind, or he could one day change husbands. He buried his face deeper in the blanket and waited for the inevitable knock that would signal Frederick’s apology. He didn’t have to wait long.

“…you have to understand I’m a little anxious that everything go well, so I am very sorry to take it out on you.”

Will rolled over on his back and looked at him. He wondered why Frederick put up with him at all. He wasn’t very nice to him, and almost never let him fuck him outside of a heat, yet six months along he still seemed to want him there. 

“It doesn’t matter. I promised I’d behave, and I will, but I really wish you’d knock before you come in here.” 

“Spouses shouldn’t have secrets from each other Will.”

He chose to ignore that. “Is that what I’m wearing?”

Frederick smiled what he thought was his most charming smile and unzipped the garment to reveal a three-piece suit in two shades of blue with a white shirt and no tie.

“Yes! This just arrived yesterday, and I think it’s perfect for this evening. Shall I have a bath run for you?” 

He wanted to say no, he really preferred showers; but he nodded, hoping he’d leave quicker.

“I’ll send Claudia up. Our guest arrives in two hours, please do not be late.”

He nodded and motioned for Frederick to get out. Frederick left with one quick glare he tried to cover with a smile but failed. 

An hour and a half later, Will came downstairs wearing the suit with his curls freshly tussled and a faint blush from his earlier bath. He looked stunning and smelled exquisite and Frederick knew he would insist they share a bed tonight, even if he didn’t let him touch him. 

“I see Mr. Sutcliffe has really outdone himself—it fits you perfectly.” Frederick walked over and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek and fingered the rose-gold choker around his neck with the little medallion bearing his own initials ‘FC’. Very bold of him to show ownership like that, but as they had yet to bond, it was the only way he could claim him.

The suit did look remarkable on him, with its narrow cut and slim pants accentuating the leanness of his body. The jacket, a deep periwinkle with a faint checked pattern, and navy vest and trousers made his eyes shine a brilliant blue. People weren’t often jealous of Frederick, but he thought even the impenetrable Hannibal Lecter would envy him tonight.

He gave Will’s shoulder a light squeeze and asked him to go grab a bottle of wine. Will set his jaw tight but went to the cellar. He knew he asked him to pick the wine so he could brag to Dr. Lecter that his precious little omega had an exceptional palate, cultivated by his new refined home; and wasn’t he a fast learner!  He wanted to smash all the bottles against the bricks. Instead he chose one that would go perfect with duck to decanter before their guest arrived. 


Dr. Lecter wasn’t at all what he expected. They’d met only briefly at the opera and while he definitely held his attention, the room had been full of too many people and crowds tended to overwhelm him. Here in the quiet of their dining room, with only Frederick’s pretentious prattle to distract him, he could fully take the man in. The only word Will could find to describe him was “more.” More elegant; more interesting; more intelligent, and more alpha. The dormant omega in him was suddenly awake. He could feel his pupils dilating. He’d never reacted so strongly to an alpha before and he wasn’t sure he liked it. Frederick had moved their conversation over to mates when Will finally tuned back in.

“So, I hear you’ve never taken a mate, Dr. Lecter. Why is that?”

“I have never found anyone to my liking.”

“You’ve never even courted? A man with your background I imagine would be fighting them off.”

Hannibal fixed his cold eyes that were the very color of warmth towards Frederick. 

“Yes, I am often presented with prospects. I prefer to choose my own, should the opportunity ever present itself. But I’m sure this is a very boring subject for Will.”, He turned to address him directly, “You seem quite young, are you currently at a university?” 

He looked at Frederick quickly. “No. My husband thinks furthering my education is unnecessary.” 

“That’s a very outdated view Frederick, I’m surprised.” 

Frederick looked slightly flustered but tried to recover quickly. “Well, it’s not as if Will wants for anything. Besides the only subject he’s interested in studying is one that I assure you is not fit for an omega.” 

“And what subject is that, Will?” 

His eyes lit up for the first time, and he did his best to ignore warning looks from Frederick. “Forensic Psychology.” 

Hannibal was rarely surprised by anything, but this definitely surprised him, and intrigued him.

“Interesting subject choice. One I don’t think is at all inappropriate for most omegas, though I have a feeling you are unlike most omegas.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he blushed, but there was no hiding it, so he only smiled at Dr. Lecter. 

“Frederick mentioned you consult for the FBI—does that mean you studied forensics psychology?” 

“No, but my work has found me dissecting many types of psyches, so I’m happy to be useful to the FBI when I can. If you like, you’re welcome to come by my office any time to look over some of my materials.”

The polite thing for an alpha to do when offering an invitation to another’s omega spouse was to first ask permission from his alpha. Hannibal apparently played by his own rules, and Frederick looked suitably affronted.

“Dr. Lecter, I really don’t think it’s a good idea to expose Will to such gruesome material, do you?” 

“I think that’s for Will to decide on his own.” 

Not one to be caught arguing at his own dinner table, Frederick quickly changed the subject to less controversial topics, and Will could not take his eyes off of Hannibal Lecter for the rest of the evening. 


Whatever frustration Frederick held in during dinner, he unleashed as soon as they both were in Fredericks bedroom. He knew he’d insist on him sleeping in their bed tonight and decided not to protest. 

“…I mean I don’t care if everyone is constantly fawning over him, or his prestigious practice, I deserve to be respected in my own house!”

Will sat there quietly at the foot of the bed, while Frederick undressed with enough anger to rip off a button.

“And you are NOT going to that man’s office. I know you think you can handle anything, but I don’t want you looking at murders, or whatever macabre thing he consults on. There is no room for argument. For once in this marriage you are listening to me!” 

He said nothing and stood up and began removing his clothes.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready for bed.”

“If you think you’re going to distract—” 

Will stood there completely naked, watching the anger leak out of Frederick.

“Does this mean…?”

Will laid down on the bed, on top of the comforter.

“Do whatever you want Frederick.”

Under the best of circumstances, it was difficult for Frederick to get it up, which he counted on. In the end he claimed he’d had too much wine and sucked him off while Will imagined Dr. Lecter between his thighs.


The next day there was little Frederick could do to prevent him from going to see Dr. Lecter. Luckily, the contentment from having a naked pliant Will next to him all night was still in effect when Will said he needed one of the cars. He handed him the keys without protest.

Dr. Lecter’s office was only a short drive from their neighborhood, so he ran a few errands until it was close to lunch time. They never settled on a time he should arrive, so he chose when he was most likely to be between patients. Still it took him an additional 10 minutes before he made it to the door. There’d been this strange sensation spreading through his body, making him feel slightly anxious and giddy since the night before, and it’d only increased as the office came into view. Maybe it was simply being in the presence of a pure alpha—a rarity. After spending so much time with a low-level alpha like Frederick, he was ill-prepared. He swallowed hard and tried to ground himself before finally ringing the doorbell.

Hannibal wore that same bemused smile that lived mostly in his eyes, barely tugging at the corners of his mouth when he opened the door.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come. Please.” He stood aside and ushered him in. Will followed him inside. It definitely didn’t resemble any psychiatrist office he’d ever seen—and he’d seen a few when he first presented. It was dark and airy, yet elegant, teetering on the edge of being overstated, but showing restraint. What intrigued him most was the landing above full of books that went up to the ceiling. Hannibal stood by his desk silently letting him take in the room at his own pace.

“You’re welcome to look at any books you like. The ladder is there.”

“Maybe later. Are they all medical books?”

Hannibal nodded. “Mostly. My personal books are kept at my residence. Do you have an interest in medicine?” 

“Just psychology. I’m sorry, is it ok that I came today?” he didn’t understand why he felt so awkward.

“Of course, and forgive me for being rude. I was just about to have lunch, would you like to join me?”

They ate informally at his desk, a simple but incredible meal of roasted beef served open-face on bread grilled with olive oil, with watercress and roasted red pepper. The accompanying arugula salad was delicious too. 

“This is incredible. It’s unusual for an alpha to cook isn’t it?

“It’s also unusual for an alpha to let his mate visit another alpha alone. Do you cook Will?”

He smirked slightly. “Not often, I was taught of course. And Frederick is not a typical alpha, but I’m sure you know that.”

“He is rather low-level. I wondered how he managed to obtain an omega as interesting and beautiful as you.”

“Believe me, it wasn’t my decision. My father only saw dollar signs and prestige. He doesn’t think much of omegas, so to him it didn’t matter what sort of alpha he was. But I’m stuck now—as much as one can be stuck without bonding.”

This surprised Hannibal. “How is it you haven’t bonded. You are fully mature and must have gone into heat by now—forgive me for being so forward.”

Will blushed a little and knew he should stop the conversation but being around Hannibal made him want to tell everything.

“It’s ok…I shouldn’t tell you this, but Frederick is unable to produce a knot, so…my heats are never…he hasn’t been able to bite me. I imagine when the time comes, he’ll impregnate me through other methods.”

Hannibal looked angry, such a waste. He was right to think Frederick was no match for his mate. 

“But your heats must be…”

“Awful. Luckily, they’re infrequent, but Frederick won’t allow me to go on suppressants. As you know, a married omega can’t get a prescription without their alpha’s consent.” 

“Do you love him?” 

Will looked at him for a moment, giving the question weight. He’d never considered it, but he knew the answer.

“No. I can’t stand him.”

“Then leave him.”

He laughed—a short bitter laugh. “You know very well the only way I get out of this marriage, bonded or not, is if he dies. Unfortunately, Frederick is perfectly healthy despite his…shortcomings.”

“I see. You look a little warm, can I get you a cool drink?”

He did feel oddly warm all of a sudden, he nodded. “Sorry, maybe I’m coming down with something.”

Hannibal smiled slightly and left to get him a drink.

















Chapter Text

Will unbuttoned three buttons on his shirt, knowing that was a big no-no in the presence of another alpha, but he needed to cool off. He sat in one of the leather chairs, jumping up when he thought he’d sat in something wet. He felt sick with embarrassment as he realized he caused the dampness in the seat of his pants. He swiveled around trying to see if the evidence produced a visible spot, but thankfully saw nothing. Dr. Lecter would return any moment and he needed to figure out what to do. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He’d never produced any slick without being touched before—what was this man doing to him? He was about to make a run for the door, when Dr. Lecter returned with a pitcher of iced tea.

Hannibal suppressed his obvious glee at seeing Will edging rapidly towards a preheat and put on his best look of concern.

“Will…what’s wrong?” he sat the tray down and walked over to him with a glass of iced tea. “Drink this.”

Will moved back quickly. “I…I should go. I’m sorry. I don’t know why this is happening, but I really should go.”

Hannibal took two steps back to give him more space since he looked ready to bolt.

“There is nothing to be worried or embarrassed about. These things happen. You’re young and it will take years for your heats to become predictable. But I understand if you want to hurry home to your alpha. We can do this another time.”

Will looked positively pained at the idea of spending this heat with Frederick. He’d spend three days being completely out of his mind and never satisfied. It was torture. His eyes filled with tears, but he kept them in check as he nodded.

He picked up his coat and made for the door.

“Will. I’m afraid I’m about to overstep, but I hate to see you so miserable. To be an omega should be a joy, and your heats should be a celebration. I’m sorry you’ve been deprived of that so far. You deserve better. If you would like, I can offer my…services for this heat. There doesn’t need to be any expectations beyond this, but I promise you, you won’t suffer.” 

Will stood there staring at him, wanting so badly to take him up on his offer, but he had no idea how he’d explain this to Frederick or what any of it would mean afterwards.

“It’s a lot to consider, I understand. It’s not unheard of, its simply not spoken about. In fact, if Frederick weren’t so selfish, he would have arranged this for you long ago.”

He walked over to his desk and wrote his home address and cell phone number on a slip of paper. 

“Here. If you change your mind, and you don’t feel well enough to drive, call me and I will come and get you. Or you can come to my home, it’s not far and I will be there the remainder of the day. The decision is yours, but the offer will stand.”

Just one whiff of Hannibal and he wanted to attack and wrap his entire self around him and never let go. He’d never been much of a sexual being before, so this shocked him. He had no idea what to do.

He thanked Hannibal, afraid to meet his eyes, and hurried out the door to his car.

Hannibal put the iced tea away, smiling all the way to the kitchen. It’d been a risk to spread diluted remnants of his seed around the office, but it seems Will only felt the effects without pin-pointing the cause. Now all he had to was wait. 


Home wasn’t an option. Though Frederick wouldn’t be home for hours, he’d smell him everywhere if he set foot in the house, even if he left quickly. He ended up on a secluded road in Wyman Park, close to home. The initial flare had died down, so he was able to think clearly for now. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew of Dr. Lecter’s interest in him—he knew the first time he looked at him that night at the opera but was too afraid to admit it; to hopefor it. If he went to Dr. Lecter, things would get messy quickly. There’d probably be a scandal and his family would disown him, and who knew what Dr. Lecter’s real intentions were. He sat in his car for an hour, pretending he didn’t know exactly what he was going to do. He picked up his phone and dialed Frederick.


Dr. Lecter’s home was a short five-minute drive from the park. It wasn’t unlike his office, stately and traditional, but slightly ostentatious. He could feel the heat begin its spread again as he walked towards his home, but he knew now it was only anticipation triggering it. The door opened after only one knock and there was Hannibal on the other side, and now this was real.

Hannibal didn’t bother with pretense and made no comment how he had yet to move beyond the front door. 

“From what I can tell, you still have a couple of hours. So, I can leave you alone—you’re welcome to use my study; or you can relax upstairs. I can draw you a bath. I promise to stay down here. I should be starting dinner as I’m sure you’ll be hungry later.”

Will managed a small smile and nodded, then said quietly he wouldn’t mind a bath. Hannibal immediately headed up the stairs, leaving him to explore the downstairs or stay glued to the front door. If he was going to go through with it, he needed to start behaving bravely. He wandered down the short hall into the foyer that branched off into a couple of different directions. It was all dark wood and warm tones, the polar opposite of his home with Frederick, that was all stark and modern with bright white walls and glass everywhere. It was as antiseptic as his mate’s personality. This felt like a home—a home he could feel comfortable in.

Hannibal found him in the dining room staring at his favorite painting.

“Do you know it?” 

He only startled slightly but didn’t turn around. “Yes…I’m a fan of Boucher…though I’ve always hidden that fact.” 

He never ceased to amaze him. “You never have to hide anything from me. Your bath is ready. It’s the ensuite off the bedroom at the end of the hall to your right. I’ve left some flannel pants and a soft t-shirt for you to put on afterwards. And Will, if you change your mind at any point you are free to go, I promise you.”

He turned and looked at him finally, really taking him in. He wanted this, though he was terrified, but there was something exciting about the prospect of being intimate with Dr. Lecter, almost dangerous. Though he couldn’t say why, he felt like his life was finally going to be begin.

“Thank you, I appreciate you saying that. I don’t think I’ll change my mind, but it’s good to know I’m free to. I think I’ll go take that bath now.” 

“By the way, did you speak to Frederick or can I expect him to come banging at my door by evening?” 

“I…I just told him my sister is visiting for a couple of days, and I was going to stay with her at her hotel. He doesn’t like my family, so he won’t press the issue too much, hopefully, and my sister really is in town if he decides to check.”

“Are you not going to see her?”

He shook his head no, “I don’t like my family either.” He grinned and went upstairs. 


By the time Hannibal decided to check on him an hour later, Will was a sweaty, almost frantic mess. He walked over to him quickly, placing a hand against his sweaty cheek.

“Why didn’t come call for me sooner?”

Will took a deep breath trying to stop his trembling limbs. “I…it just got like this all of a sudden, I’m sorry. I’m not sure….”

Hannibal removed his waistcoat and unbuttoned just a couple of buttons on his shirt.

“I want you to be comfortable, so I will stay over here, and you do whatever you like. If you want me to do anything, all you have to do is ask me, but I won’t act until you’re ready.”

Will nodded, and slipped the t-shirt over his head, the cool air felt delicious against his skin. He sat on the edge of the bed and slipped the flannel pants down along with the pair of boxers he’d been provided. He laid flat against bed on his back, trying not grind his ass into the sheets. He’d flung the heavy comforter off earlier.

“I...know I’m supposed to be on all fours…but I hate that, I’m not a fucking dog you know? I’m sorry…I just, is this ok, like this?”

Hannibal prided himself of always having full control over his ever action, but it would take all the will power he possessed not to go into a full rut and devour this boy whole. He lay there, with his legs spread, flushed, glistening with sweat; his small cock painfully erect against his taught belly. He was the picture of everything he ever imagined in a perfect mate, and he couldn’t quite accept he actually existed. He quickly discarded his clothes, watching for any signs of Will becoming nervous or reluctant, but he was waiting patiently while slick painted his thighs for Hannibal to come to him.  

Hannibal lifted his thighs easily putting them over his shoulders, looking him directly in his eyes, while he entered slowly. His body engulfed him easily, like his cock was made for him. Will gasped as Hannibal proceeded slowly, never before feeling so full and complete. He pushed harder against him, moaning that he was going too slow. Hannibal smiled a rare full smile and threw away all gentleness and took him exactly the way he wanted.

Will couldn’t believe he’d been deprived of this for so long. Sex with Frederick between heats was at most pleasant. But this—he felt like he’d fall right out of his skin. And he couldn’t shut up no matter how much his brain admonished him for sounding like a wanton whore. The pleasure he felt couldn’t be contained—and that moment, the one he’d never experienced before felt more blissful than he ever imagined. When Dr. Lecter’s orgasm shuddered through him, followed by his knot, he was certain he howled. He vaguely remembered hearing a soft throaty chuckle. And now, he’d been laid in a boneless heap on top of Hannibal, while their bodies were joined. He buried his face in the soft hair on the warm chest beneath him, slipping away into the first peaceful sleep he’d had in a very long time.




Chapter Text

Can you get addicted to sex? He’d never heard of any omegas becoming crazed sex addicts; maybe he’d be the first. Will definitely felt like an addict, or maybe he was addicted to Hannibal. Whatever the case, he couldn’t seem to get enough of it. His heat couldn’t be blamed since it ended a week ago. But every day since, he’d shown up at Hannibal’s door, ready to rip his clothes off. Currently he was bent over a formally pristine kitchen counter, completely naked with Hannibal’s cock pounding in his ass while he made noises he’d only heard on nature shows. He’d gotten over any embarrassment two days into his heat. He loved it too much and there was no way he was holding back. Maybe Hannibal was an incredible lover—he had no idea, only having ever been with Frederick. He always wanted more—being fucked never seemed enough. Maybe it was his body's way of begging him to mate with the only alpha he'd ever wanted.

Today he’d craved his skin, and wanted to taste him, so he did. Dropped on his knees right there in the kitchen, with no preamble, pulling Hannibal’s pants open and shoving his still flaccid cock into his mouth. He couldn’t say he knew what he was doing, having never done it before, but hopefully passion and earnestness counted for something. Judging by the noise Hannibal made, he was at least competent. He hadn’t gotten to finish, because suddenly he was pulled up and thrown over the counter and stripped naked, before Hannibal pushed into him roughly. He smiled at the memory of only a few minutes ago, and nearly laughed with glee, but was cut short by his own intense orgasm and his laugh became a howling moan.

Then came that intoxicating weight as Hannibal collapsed on top of him, chuckling softly in his ear about how wonderfully loud he was.  Will always feigned annoyance, but he didn’t actually care. He loved that sound.

“Such a messy boy you are.”

Admittedly he did seem to have no shortage of slick when it came to Hannibal. One well-placed look and he often felt the familiar dampness. He really wished he understood what was happening to him. For now, he basked in the heaviness of his limbs as he extracted himself from the kitchen counter and headed upstairs to shower. Hannibal watched him go, loving the site of his trembling thighs, still dripping as he slowly took the stairs.  He thought he could wait to claim him, but his impatience grew every time he saw him. Such a perfect creature. All these years he had no idea there was an omega growing on his earth made just for him. Tonight, was the time for a serious discussion.


“So where does the amiable Mr. Chilton think you are most days?”

They were sharing a light snack on the bed, post-shower, something Hannibal normally abhorred, but there was little he wouldn’t do to appease his Will. The view of his lean frame still damp and flushed from the shower, sitting crossed-legged in front of a tray of various cheeses and charcuterie, shoving whole slices of meat and cheese into his mouth was worth the occasional crumb.

“I keep it vague. The wash you’ve given me helps to erase your scent fortunately, or unfortunately for me…”

Something suddenly occurred to Hannibal. “Will, you wouldn’t by any chance know what happened to my red sweater?”

A full blush spread through his cheeks, stopping just below his neck. He tried to bite back a smile unsuccessfully.


Hannibal leaned forward and kissed his head, running a finger along his cheek. “Do you sleep in it?”


He turned his face around and kissed him on the mouth. “That makes me very happy.”

Will pushed him playfully and went back to stuffing his face.

“Does Frederick not wonder where it came from?”

“No, I don’t sleep in his bed unless he insists, and he doesn’t insist often. I wouldn’t now even if he did.”

“And why is that?” 

“Shut up, I refuse to stroke your ego, I’m a hopeless puppy as it is. It’s embarrassing.” 

“I find it charming.”

“You would you egomaniac. Oh! I’m spending the night. Frederick is out of town.” When Hannibal remained silent, he got a little nervous.

“I mean…can I spend the night? I never have, so I thought…” 

“Forgive me, I was…yes, I’d love that very much.”

Will smiled brightly at him. He couldn’t remember smiling this much in his entire life. For once he was truly happy. He didn’t care about the warning he felt whenever he looked at Hannibal. He’d take on anything to hold on to this joy.

“He’s only gone one night. He’ll be back tomorrow evening in time for dinner he said. I wish…”

“What do you wish Will?”

He moved the tray to the side table and laid back on the bed. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t have it.”

Hannibal leaned over him, looking directly in his eyes. “You can have anything you want, as long as I can give it to you.”

“You can’t give me this. Divorce is unheard of.”

He distracted himself by picking up a lock of Will’s hair and twirling it gently between his fingers. They were headed into dangerous territory and he didn’t want to play his hand just yet.

“But not impossible. Especially with a spouse that can’t produce a knot.” 

Will moved to lay on his chest, uncaring if his damp hair was uncomfortable. Hannibal only stroked his arm and pulled him closer.

“I know…but with their being other ways of producing off-spring, that’s not such an immediate reason anymore. I suppose if he knew of our affair, he could demand a divorce, but I wouldn’t do that to you. The scandal would be immense, and Frederick would do everything legally to destroy you—he’d be practically gloating. I’d hate him even more.” 

“I wouldn’t care about any of that.”

“I know you wouldn’t…but…I just wish he’d get some strange incurable illness. That’s horrible of me I know. I keep trying to pretend I don’t want him to die. But I do. Fate wouldn’t ever be so kind though.”

Despair threatened to overtake him, and he felt the beginnings of tears forming behind his eyes. The last thing he wanted to be was some overly emotional omega, so he closed his eyes, trying his best to make everything but Hannibal’s warmth and presence disappear.


He must have drifted off to sleep because when he opened his eyes, the room was dark and he was alone. He’d been dressed in warm flannel pants and a t-shirt and tucked beneath the covers. Hannibal didn’t appear to be anywhere—the house sat completely silent. He wandered down to the kitchen, hoping to find him making dinner, but it too was dark. A quick glance at the clock told him it was nearly midnight, and he cursed softly knowing he’d wasted an evening with Hannibal. He headed back upstairs to find his cell phone, hoping he’d just gone for one of those late night runs he mentioned taking. A small noise outside halted his search and he went to the window, hoping it was just a stray cat in the yard.

The door of the small shed was slightly ajar, banging softly in the wind. Will clutched his phone tighter in his hand, prepared to dial the police if it was an intruder. Where the fuck was Hannibal? Then he saw him. He moved swiftly, like a shadow, but it was him. He emerged from the small brick shed, holding folded plastic in his arms. What was he doing? For a moment he thought maybe he’d be cleaning something because his hands looked wet. But the light from a distant street lamp illuminated them for a brief moment, and the wetness looked dark and thick. All the air seemed to leave his lungs and he felt suspended, detached from his body. He knew what covered his hands. Maybe he’d always known. He also knew—the thing that made his legs tremble so badly he sank to the floor—that he would never seek whatever answers that small brick building held. Not because he knew he wouldn’t find any, but because he knew he didn’t care. 


Chapter Text

Hannibal returned to find the bed empty and the room dark, but the scent was undeniable. A slight movement of the curtain gave him away. He walked towards the windows to find Will sitting below the sill curled in on himself, with only the slight tremor of his hair betraying his distress. Careful not to jump to any conclusions of what Will did or didn’t discover, he approached slowly until he stood before him.

“Did something happen Will?”

The moment he met his eyes, he’d know. If he could see his face, he’d know how he really felt, and he was terrified. But he wanted the truth, so he slowly raised his head—and there he was; Hannibal, the man he craved, maybe even loved. Nothing had changed, and he almost smiled. 

“I woke up and the house was dark. I wasn’t sure where you were, and…I feel ridiculous I’m sorry. I got a little upset. I guess I really am one of those pathetic omegas.”

Hannibal knelt down and pulled him into his arms. “Missing me is nothing to be ashamed of. I’m flattered, but also extremely sorry. I should have left a note of my whereabouts. You were sleeping so soundly, I thought I’d be back before you woke. Things took longer than expected.”

Will breathed him in deeply, noticing a faint smell of blood lingering. Did this mean he was finally free? He gently pulled away and stood before he could contemplate what that said about him.

“Where’d you go?” 

“I just had something I needed to take care of. Unfortunately, I left it too late. Again, I’m sorry. Are you hungry?” 

Surprisingly he was. “I always seem to be lately, but yea, I’ve gotten used to your amazing dinners.”

Hannibal smiled and gave him a light kiss. “I’ll just reheat what I prepared this evening. You were so tired, I made something that could easily keep.” 

Will wondered why he was so tired, when he’d felt fine earlier, but that explanation could wait.


Even though it was after midnight, they ate in the dining room, illuminated only by a single candelabra fitting the mood perfectly. Hannibal served him from a platter sat in the middle of the table. The dish’s name was completely unpronounceable, but the translation meant Butter Braised hen with Lingonberry. It was delicious of course, and Will tried to focus on the meal, but there hung this question, creating an uncomfortable heaviness in the room. He’d started the conversation several times in his head, but the words died before they could pass his lips. So, they ate silently, with Hannibal not bothering to hide his intense scrutiny.

“Is there something you wish to ask me Will?”

Always blunt. Was there really an easy way to ask if you’ve killed someone? “Where’s Frederick?”

Hannibal looked at him confused, but with understanding leaking behind his eyes. “I believe you said he was away at an overnight conference. In D.C, correct?”

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

“What are you asking me Will?” 

“I…nothing. I don’t know.”

Hannibal watched him, closely. Looking for any signs he feared him but saw none. The only fear seemed to be directed inward. 

“I wouldn’t do that Will. Not unless you asked me to. That decision is yours alone to make, when you’re ready.”

He looked up, staring openly at him. “But you would.” 

“Yes. If you ask me to.”

“Have you done it before? Who is that in the shed?” He saw no reason for pretense anymore.

“So that’s what upset you. What do you think you’ve seen?”

He sighed and tugged on his hair; Hannibal did enjoy his little games. “I have no idea. I saw what I think was blood on your hands. But it could have been from an animal for all I know.”

“But you know it wasn’t.” 

He nodded. “I see a darkness in you, Hannibal. I always have. I know you should scare me, but you don’t. I just…don’t lie to me, I want to know who I’ve fallen in love with.”

He’d never admitted love even to himself, but it felt right, and he wanted to be honest as well.

That smile—that rare smile lit up his face. “I could never have predicted you, Will.” 

“Please, Hannibal.”

“Dr. Chilton is alive and well in D.C as far as I know. As to the shed—well that was simply a problem I needed to take care of. If you’d like me to show you, I will.”

The depth of Hannibal’s darkness wasn’t something he felt ready to make a reality, and he shook his head. “No…I don’t need to see.” 

“I promise I will hide nothing from you, but I’ll never show you more than you’re ready for.”

“I’d appreciate that, and when I say I want to know you, I don’t just mean…that. I don’t even know where you’re from. Not that I think where anyone is from is critical, but it’s a start.”

In the low candlelight of the dining room, Will’s eyes glistened, whether from fatigue or emotion, he couldn’t tell, as his voice betrayed nothing. He was exhibiting remarkable control for someone so young, and Hannibal found it incredibly beautiful. Whatever he expected of Will, he surpassed him at every turn. He knew he’d give him everything, in time.

“The dish you’re eating is from my homeland, Lithuania.”

Will smiled and tried to picture a young Hannibal in a foreign land, speaking his native tongue, but found it difficult.

“My compliments to your homeland and their amazing cuisine.”

But he asked nothing else. After helping him clear the table, Will suggested they go to bed, even though he was far from tired. He didn’t want to talk or think for now. Tomorrow everything would change, because they would have to decide about Frederick and even now, he knew there could only be one outcome.


Later, they lay in bed silently—Will with his head on Hannibal’s chest, listening to the gentle rumbling of his breaths. His heart beat steadily like anyone’s, though he wondered if it raced when he was killing.

“Did you drug me?”

Only a tiny hitch of breath gave away any surprise at the question. He’d been still for so long Hannibal thought he’d fallen asleep beneath that curtain of curls. 

“Only a little.”

He looked up, trying to find those dark eyes in the equally dark room. 

“What kind of response is that?”

“A truthful one. I only gave you a little valium. Though I misjudged your size.”

“My size?” 

“Yes, for the dosage. I didn’t expect you to wake so soon. But despite you being quite small, you do have more lean muscle than most omegas. I should have factored that in.”

He dug his fingers into his chest. “I’m not small.”

Hannibal smirked, “Forgive me—thin.”

He laid back down muttering. “Why?” 

“I’m sorry Will, I just didn’t think you’d be ready to discover…”

 “That question wasn’t for you. You drugged me…and did God knows what to whoever is in your shed, and here I lay in your bed. I should be terrified and running. But…”

Fingers suddenly corded through his curls, tugging gently. “Perhaps we are the same.”

“I don’t think that’s it. But I knew…I’ve always known, but it only made you…I guess it’s what I wanted.”

Hannibal wanted to pull him up and kiss him deeply—those words swelled his heart, but Will moved from him, laying on his own pillow, turned towards the window.

“I need to sleep.”

He felt a soft kiss against his head before he finally drifted off. 


A plan existed. It was explained over eggs in cocotte and black coffee. Whenever he decided, he’d call Hannibal and invite him to dinner. No time frame existed, just whenever Will decided he wanted to ‘start the life he was meant to lead’. Hannibal promised he’d wait years as he didn’t intend to be with anyone else. Will definitely didn’t want to wait that long, but could he willingly send a man to his death and then happily live with his killer? And what of their very small community? Would everyone just accept him moving from one alpha to another without suspicion? But Hannibal was above suspicion—he’d carefully orchestrated his persona, from his profession, his clothing, his position in society, even the infrequency of his dinner parties—all to make him both the center of attention and unattainable. He already knew no one would suspect a thing. So now Will only had to decide if he was a murderer.

When he arrived home, the familiar silver Aston Martin sat in the driveway, which meant Frederick was home early. Will left the lesser car he drove on the street, hoping to be able to slip in through the back and up the back stairs. Considering the thoughts swimming through his mind, he wasn’t up to seeing him just yet. Fate wasn’t on his side today however and Frederick opened the front door to retrieve a forgotten newspaper just as he exited the car.

“Will? Where you have you been? You didn’t answer my last three calls or my recent text. I was about to call in the police.”

All the doubt and concern about Frederick’s well-being leaked out of him the moment he heard his voice. He looked down so he couldn’t see his eyes roll. 

“I had the vibrate off, I’m sorry. Did you need something?” Frederick stood in front of him now, since Will made no effort towards the front door.

“I don’t like leaving you alone overnight, so I was worried. But the house looks barely touched so perhaps I worried for nothing.”

Will was in no mood for games, so he walked past him into the house. Clearly there was something he wanted to accuse him of and he wished he’d just come out with it. 

Frederick was right on his heels. “Were you here at all while I was away?”

He stopped and looked him, really looked at him, refusing to avoid eye contact. Frederick flinched a little.

“Am I not allowed to even leave the house in your absence?”

The sudden coldness in Will threw him, but he pressed on. “That is not it and you know it.”

“What do I know Frederick? I’m a little tired so I wish you’d just say whatever you’ve been building up to say.”

Frederick sighed and put on his best look of exasperation. “I remember telling you I didn’t want you going to Dr. Lecter’s office.” 

Will gave an imperceptible pause, but kept his gaze steady. “I remember as well.”

“Then why have at least three people asked me if you were seeing a psychiatrist because they’d seen you leaving Dr. Lecter’s office twice recently.”

He’d been stopping by for lunch, not caring if he were seen. Hannibal said ultimately, it’d work in their favor if people thought he was seeing him professionally.

“Because I also don’t remember agreeing to that.”

“It is not your place to agree! I do not want you going over there, and you won’t be going there again!” 

He said nothing, just stood there drinking in what his life would continue to be. Living with a man he couldn’t stand, who he didn’t love and didn’t love him. He was there in his home because he was rare, and because he was pretty. For no other reason. The realization of such a continued empty existence nearly made his knees buckle. And he realized, maybe for the first time, that Frederick didn’t care if he was unhappy. He was on the same level as that Aston Martin sitting in their driveway. 

“I don’t want to argue when I’ve just gotten home, but please understand this is for your benefit. I know you think you can handle whatever it is he’s been showing you. But you can’t. It goes against your very biology. You must trust me on this.”

I’m sorry Frederick. “Fine, you win. I’m going to take a bath. Welcome home.”

Will disappeared up the stairs.



Chapter Text

“I don’t see why it has to go that way.”

Nearly hidden in a corner of his room, with blankets and pillows swarmed around him, Will’s voice was barely audible on the phone to Hannibal.

“You do, you just don’t like it. Where are you, you sound muffled?”

He loosened his favorite cashmere blanket a little and moved the phone closer to his ear. “I’m in my room on the floor. The blanket was covering the phone sorry.”

If Will was nesting it meant he was stressed. Though he hadn’t yet said, Hannibal assumed the reason for this call. But the last thing he wanted to do was push him too hard too quickly.

“Will, there is no hurry, you don’t have to do this now.” 

“I know that, I’m fine.”

“Yet you’re nesting.”

Yes, he’d placed his floor pillows into one corner of the room and dragged every blanket and comforter he owned to wrap around himself, but it didn’t mean he was stressed.

“I’m fine…it’s not. I hate being here, and now you tell me I can’t see you for a while.”

“I’ll see you every day until the dinner, if that’s why you called.” 

The conversation so far danced around the primary issue. Even though he’d made the call and was very determined in his actions, he couldn’t quite pull the trigger. It wouldn’t just end Frederick’s life, but change his irrevocably. 

“I need to come by tomorrow, and I’d rather you not tell me no.” 

“I am incapable of telling you no.” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“As you wish.”

Hannibal hung up before he did, and Will couldn’t help but smile at the tiny act of dominance. He found his defiance only charming to a point.


A creature of habit, Hannibal never saw patients between noon and 2pm. He liked to savor his lunch time, so Will arrived around 12:30, giving Hannibal time to prepare his meal without being interrupted. 

“Right on time. I just finished preparing lunch. It’s such a nice day, would you like to eat in the sunroom?”

Will barely had time to say hello before he was being ushered towards a sun room he didn’t know existed. He often forgot Hannibal’s office was really a converted city mansion. It looked onto a small garden surrounded by a tall brick wall, all very quiet and peaceful, a sharp contrast to everything about to conspire.

“Spring chicken ragu, served over pappardelle with roasted fennel, fresh peas and ricotta, all from my garden.”

He wanted to ask if the ricotta came from his garden as well, but he wasn’t in the mood to tease Hannibal, and he was hungry. He served it with simple grilled bread rubbed with garlic and Thai basil lemonade, though right now he’d prefer something stronger.

“Do you have any wine?”

Hannibal poured him a glass of lemonade. “I don’t think you’re 21 yet Will, but if you want wine, we can have some after lunch. Something pink?” 

He rolled his eyes but took the drink without further complaint.

“Explain to me again how this will work and why I can’t see you afterwards.”

“I will explain, though I think you understand perfectly. Mid-way through dinner I will get a call, and I will say it’s from Jack. I will make my excuses saying I am needed at a crime scene. I’ll invite Frederick with me, which I’m positive he’ll readily accept. Once I’m finished, I will display his body to look like the other victims of the serial killer Chesapeake Ripper, who has recently resurfaced. Though I don’t expect to be implicated, I’d rather you be able to grieve Frederick properly—being away from me will cause you distress. Though we’re not bonded, we’ve shared a heat and a great deal of intimacy—we are connected. So, pretending to be upset about Frederick won’t be difficult. It will be hard Will, but it’s for our future.  Also…I will need my sweater returned, it’d be better if you are not comforted by my scent.” 

He knew all of this of course and understood the necessity. There was little point in trying to convince Hannibal he was a good enough actor to pull it off. There couldn’t be any chance for mistakes.

He nodded, afraid to look up from his plate. If this were to work, he needed to be brave, but he didn’t feel very brave at the moment. 

Hannibal lifted his head and gently swiped his finger at a tear that spilled despite his best efforts to hold them back. 

“You’ll be fine, mylimasis.”

“I’m really doing this.” Instead of assuring him he could change his mind or wait, Hannibal simply nodded. He held out his arms and Will climbed onto his lap. He laid there drinking in as much as his scent as he could. In just two days he’d be without it. 

Dinner was planned for Thursday evening. Will suggested inviting Hannibal over under the guise of hoping he’d convince Frederick to allow him to continue working with him. The opportunity to have Hannibal Lecter actually seek his permission was far too enticing to pass up. It took very little persuading. He spent the next couple days pontificating about how firm his stance was on the subject and how no amount of Dr. Lecter’s infamous charm could sway him. He could barely keep the glee out of his voice, and Will could barely keep his last meal down. Despite all his bravado, he spared no expense and had the dinner catered by the chef (and personal friend— he mentioned at least five times over two days) of one of the best restaurants in the city.  Will stayed out of his way, spending most of his time in his room, or sneaking out to see Hannibal when Frederick was mired in hospital duties. He took every opportunity in the short two days to absorb as much of Hannibal as he could in every way and position possible. It would only make the separation more difficult, but Will didn’t care. The morning of the dinner he woke with a sense of calm, and anticipation thrummed just under the surface. He only called Hannibal once to confirm dinner plans, in the presence of Frederick. The rest of the day was spent as he normally did—lounging in the sitting room reading, or in front of the television in what Frederick called, ‘the library’. There’d been another murder the night before and the police were expecting another, since the Ripper killed in threes. He wondered if Hannibal chose this week because of that—though he realized he hadn’t chosen it. A hollowness dripped down his spine, but he chased it away by picking up his book and changing the channel to something more mundane.

At 6pm, he went upstairs to shower and put on the outfit Frederick laid out for him. Fleetingly he thought about letting Frederick have him one last time, but he no longer wanted anyone to touch him but Hannibal. His aloofness was contributed to ‘omega pouting’ at not getting his way, so Will left it alone and spent the remaining nights in his own room. Now he stood in front of the mirror, dressed all in blacks and grays, with a crisp white handmade shirt and pearl cufflinks. He fingered his one addition to the outfit; a dark crimson pocket square, fanned out in three points. Frederick wouldn’t approve, but this was for Hannibal alone, a silent gesture telling him he was ready.

They sat down to dinner after Hannibal arrived promptly at 7:30. There was brief polite conversation in the sitting room, with Will remaining silent just out of Frederick’s sightline but well within Hannibal view. He glanced once at his flash of red and nodded imperceptibly, so only he would notice. They moved into the dining room where the first course sat waiting for them, a chilled fennel and pea soup that Will barely touched, and Hannibal had the good grace to compliment. Frederick served the main course himself with a bit of flourish. 

“Roast duck with figs and a port reduction.” 

Hannibal smiled. “Oh, one of Jonathan’s best dishes, a rarely pass up the opportunity to visit his restaurant. I understand he is a friend of yours?”

Frederick’s face dropped, but he quickly recovered, if awkwardly. Will laughed silently behind his napkin.

“Yes, yes he is. I do apologize for not cooking myself this evening. I’ve been so busy with the hospital lately. I’m sure you can understand that.” 

“Indeed, I can. And I am very honored you went to this trouble. Jonathan is a very busy man himself. He must hold you in high esteem.” 

Flattery always appeased him, and he was back to his pumped-up self. “We do go quite a way back. I was one of his first investors in fact.” 

“A true friend then.”

Will smiled—he was completely smitten.


As the dinner dishes were being cleared, Hannibal’s phone rang. He apologized, stating he had to take the call and walked into the other room. Will’s heart thundered in his chest, and for a moment he thought he would pass out. This was it; once they left together, Frederick would never see the inside of his home again, or anything. When he returned, Hannibal looked pointedly at Will, who gave a single nod.

“I am so sorry. I’m afraid this can’t be helped. That was Jack Crawford—there’s been another body found and I’m needed on the scene. I really hate to cut our evening short, but I’m sure you can understand.” 

Frederick looked immediately excited. “Oh, another Ripper victim?” 

“I’m can’t say of course, but it may be.” He paused, seemingly contemplating something. “This may be a little unorthodox but I’m sure Jack could use all the eyes he can get on this. I’d hate to abandon Will, but would you like to join me? It shouldn’t take very long. I’m positive Jack would be grateful.”

If Frederick could float, he probably would have. “Well I of course understand the need for discretion, so if you think I could be of some use, I’d be more than happy to accompany you.” 

This was his cue to at least look put out. “I guess I’ll be eating dessert on my own then?”

“Oh! Will, I really am sorry, and I don’t think it’d be appropriate for you to come unfortunately.”

I hope Hannibal makes you choke on your tongue first. “No worries, I don’t really want to see a crime scene—photos are bad enough.”

“Yes, and we’ll talk about that when I get back, or tomorrow morning.” Hannibal already had his jacket on, and they all moved to the foyer. Frederick gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. “Not sure how long I’ll be, so no need to wait up.”

Will looked past him to Hannibal. “Goodnight, Frederick.” 


Morning arrived fast, though the evening was painfully slow. Once they left, every doubt and fear surfaced, making him a trembling mess with no relief or comfort. Eventually he’d crawled into bed, after drinking an entire bottle of wine, trying to quiet his brain. When he finally woke, the room was flooded with light, and eerily quiet. No noise from the kitchen, while Frederick did his morning routine of coffee and a still warm croissant delivered from the patisserie up the street. He checked his phone, looking for what he didn’t know. Maybe a text from Hannibal telling him it was over? That’d be foolish. There was nothing.

Soon he’d have to call the police in a panic saying his husband hadn’t returned home—that he’d left with Dr. Lecter after having dinner at their home, in separate cars, to go have a late-night drink at the alpha bar nearby. Dr. Lecter called to say Frederick had never shown up and wondered if he’d returned home. Not wanting to worry, he waited to see if he’d come home, but fell asleep. This was all said in a rush to a 911 operator and hour later, who put on his best placating voice to try and keep the young omega calm. He’d pride himself on his amateur acting abilities, but he wasn’t acting. Just one word from Hannibal, anything, and he thought he could get through the next few hours at least. He wandered down to the kitchen to make coffee, feet shuffling across the cold floors. He opened the canister of beans, trying to remember how to work the ridiculous overpriced machine, when he spotted a small envelope on the counter. He tore it open immediately, and as soon as he saw the handwriting on the note inside, he held it against his face trying to find even the smallest trace of his scent. There was just enough to stop his limbs from trembling.

Mylimasis, our lives now begin.

Put this between two sheets of newspaper and burn it after you read it. I will see you soon.

He nearly broke down with joy. He immediately abandoned his coffee and lit the fireplace in the sitting room, careful to choose pages from the previous days paper, and threw the note into the fire, making sure there was nothing left of it before placing a new log to cover the ashes. All he needed to do now was wait for the police to arrive. Tears would only help, so he indulged in a bit of self-pity until they arrived.

Frederick’s body was discovered two days later. They found him displayed in the sculpture garden of the Baltimore Museum of Art, twisted to resemble The Fool tarot card—standing on one foot, holding a stick with a sack tied to one end, full of his lower intestines, and the other hand held his tongue in place of the usual flower. He was posed naked with a skirt of thorns and weeds adorning his waist. Humiliated in death by, everyone assumed, the Chesapeake Ripper.

It took less than an hour once the news broke for the police, with Jack Crawford in tow to show up at his house. By this time, less than three days without Hannibal, he was already a mess. He wasn’t sleeping or eating really, and spent his days in t-shirts and flannel pants, usually wrapped in an oversized sweater. When he opened the door, he looked the picture of omegan despair.

To their credit, they looked truly sorry to deliver the news. They guided him into his own sitting room and sat opposite him. They refused any offer of refreshments, though Will was in no mood to prepare anything. He just wanted it over so he could go to Hannibal and stop being miserable in that huge house by himself.

“Mr. Chilton. We are very sorry to deliver this news. We’d hoped he was merely taking a break from you, as alphas are prone to do sometimes. But…and maybe you already saw it on the news, the latest Chesapeake Ripper murder...I’m afraid the victim was your husband, Frederick.”

Relief flooded through him, it was really over. The tears came easily and soon he was sobbing. A female beta officer came over and knelt in front of him. He imagined her sole purpose was to make sure he didn’t go into hysterics and hurt himself. Jack was talking with the other officer, wondering what they should do with him. He only caught snippets of the conversation, but when he heard the word “hospital” he pulled himself together enough to try and speak.

“No, please.  I don’t want to be in an omega ward. I’ll…I’ll be ok.” 

“I’m afraid we can’t just leave you alone, Mr. Chilton. A bonded partner dying is a very devastating thing.”

Will took a deep breath and wiped his face. “We…weren’t bonded.”

This made the other alpha officer turn around. “You were legally married correct?”

“Yes…it just he couldn’t…um…”

The beta officer stepped in to save him from having to explain, though he was only pretending. What he wanted to say —"the dipshit couldn’t get it up”— probably wouldn’t go over well.

“I don’t know if you’re aware, but there are cases where an alpha is unable to, forgive me Mr. Chilton; produce a knot and properly go into the rut that would produce the bonding hormone in his bite.”

“I see. Still he was your husband and you’re clearly very upset, as anyone would be—”

Jack interjected. “You were seeing Dr. Lecter, professionally weren’t you? I know he was a friend of Dr. Chilton. Maybe we can call Dr. Lecter and see if he’d be willing to take Will in for now. He is a therapist as well, so maybe that would be a better compromise. Would you agree to that Mr. Chilton?” 

Fresh tears fell and he nodded. Hannibal played this all so well, he could hardly believe it. Agent Crawford made the call, while the beta officer helped him upstairs to pack a few things. He decided to shower and change to look a little more presentable. He changed into a thin linen sweater and jeans that cost more than some people’s entire wardrobe. Frederick purchased all of his clothes, and he didn’t want them. He grabbed a few older shirts he managed to hide during the great purging of everything unbefitting a spouse of Dr. Frederick Chilton, his laptop, and a couple of books and joined the officers downstairs. 

“Dr. Lecter is on his way. He thought it best if you don’t have to endure riding in the back of a police car.” 

Jack looked around impatiently, though managed a small sympathetic smile in Will’s direction. 

“I’ll leave the rest of this to your capable hands. Mr. Chilton, Dr. Lecter will be here any minute. He’ll help you through this—he’s one of the best people I know. Again, I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Will just nodded, and watched Jack Crawford leave, wondering how one of the preeminent minds at the BAU could be so clueless.

Hannibal arrived only minutes later and took the officers into another room before addressing Will. When they returned, the officers were saying their goodbyes and that’d they’d be in touch soon.

The minute he heard their tires on the asphalt, Will ran into his arms. Hannibal nearly lifted him off the floor, burying his face in his neck, breathing in what was finally completely his.  He gently pulled Will back so he could see his face— he was crying again.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?! I’m sick of this.” He wiped at his tears, completely frustrated.

“But you portray sorrow so beautifully.” He traced a tear down his cheek. “It’s the stress and being away from your alpha. You’ll be fine once you’re back in my home. Don’t be so ashamed of your biology; you still like no other.”

He kissed his lips, tasting the salty tears, but pulled away, knowing he’d never be able to stop once he started. He picked up his bag, raising an eyebrow at how light it was, and moved towards the door.

“Shall we?”

Will grabbed onto his arm and they left the house together.

It turned out most people in their circles had no qualms about Hannibal taking over his care. Omegas needed an alpha after all and wasn’t it good of Dr. Lecter to take in Frederick’s widow, who had always been an odd one and given Frederick quite a bit of trouble. They were sure he’d benefit from the strong hand of a superior alpha. In some ways, they thought Will had lucked out. Jack Crawford of course was far less lucky. He was no closer to catching the Chesapeake Ripper than he’d ever been. Will had been questioned three times, until Hannibal insisted it was only causing him undue stress and he needed to be allowed to get on with his life. This was far from the truth of course; Will said if he had to talk to Jack Crawford or any detective again, he’d stab Hannibal in his sleep. It’d taken a couple of months for that fiery tongue to return, so Hannibal intended to give in to its every wish.

That first night, Will had been insatiable, wanting to explore every part of the man he missed and was now his as long as he wanted him. But reality set in the next morning, and Hannibal woke to find him sitting in the dark library, unmoving.


There was answer right away, and finally a voice barely above a whisper. “I’m a murderer. I keep sitting here thinking that, over and over. I didn’t do the killing, but I am just as responsible—maybe more. Frederick…he was just who he was. Not malicious, just an idiot. It wasn’t his fault, and yet…”

Hannibal approached slowly and kneeled in front of him, he took his hands. “You don’t have to—”

“But I can’t…why can’t I feel bad?”

Hannibal ducked his head to hide his relief, then gently took Will’s face in his hands.

“You should never feel bad about wanting your freedom and taking it for yourself.”

“Part of me wishes I had been there to see you work, like the photos aren’t enough…I don’t fully understand what I am.”

“You are beautiful and perfect and that’s all you ever need to be.”

If only that were true—he knew Hannibal far too well to think he wouldn’t try to shape him into what he envisioned. He looked at Hannibal, holding his gaze.

“Can you promise me something?” 

“Anything mylimasis.” 

“Let me discover what I am, or what I’m not on my own. I need to follow my own path and I need you to be ok with wherever it ends. I know you’d love for me to join you, but at least right now, its not what I want. Even if I can only feel bad that I don’t feel bad about Frederick, this may not be the beginning of something, but rather the end. I need you to let me find out with no influence from you. Can you do that.”

Hannibal leaned his head against Will’s shoulder for a moment. “If that’s what you want, then I promise you.”

Will kissed him, letting his tongue run along one the fangs he loved so much. “Thank you and thank you for everything. I’m sorry I never did. You’ve given me everything.”

“And I would do it many times over. I love you Will.”

“I love you too, though it’s not easy loving the Chesapeake Ripper.” 

Hannibal had the good grace to look shocked, and Will broke out in a glorious laugh. Hannibal shut him up with a fierce hungry kiss, and mumbles of Aš tave myliu, while he pulled him down on top of him, ripping the clothes off his body.


The Fool: The Fool 

(and they lived happily ever after)