Chapter Text
“I’m not doing it Jack.” Will tapped the arm of his chair as he tried to remain calm.
“I think you should meet him before you say what you will and won’t do.” Jack retorted back. The banter didn’t rip his eyes from the paperwork towering his desk. Obviously, Will wasn’t trying hard enough to get his attention.
“I’m the best goddamn agent in this place and I can’t even get a say on who my assistant will be?”
“That’s not exactly doing his position justice.” Jack scratched the side of his face, finally looking up from the paperwork.
“He’ll get paid to follow me around all day. What else do you call that?” Will stood and began to pace, unease coiling his body tight.
“He is a very brilliant and successful psychiatrist who has consulted me on a myriad of cases before now. Dr. Lecter just also happens to be an omega with a speciality of pheromone therapy for deteriorating alphas. Which is what he’ll be “following you around” for.” Jack massaged his top lip, his fangs growing sore with Will’s scent filling the room.
“Deteriorating? Deteriorating?! Tell that to my fucking results . I’m the only agent in this place that can figure out my ass from my goddamn elbow Jack.” Will snarled, jabbing a finger toward the desk.
Jack slammed his palms down hard enough to make papers flutter to the ground, and yelled back, “step down Graham before this gets ugly!”
A door clicked behind them, forcing the two alphas to wheel around with venom. Jack seemed embarrassed, coughing into his fist and taking a seat, waving his other hand in the air to ventilate the foggy air.
Will remained standing, taking stock of who entered the door. He was tall with broad shoulders and donned a smirk Will already hated.
The man’s eyebrows raised, speaking with an accent Will couldn’t place, “is this a bad time, Jack?”
“No, no Dr. Lecter. Please have a seat… if you’re comfortable to do so.” Jack tacked on.
Will remained standing, arms crossed, knowing his pheromones were thick on a normal day. Much less when he was this worked up. Guilt began its cold descent into his gut, but Will ignored it, instead opting to remain staring out the nearby window in total show of ignoring the man. This omega was an adult. If he couldn’t handle the pheromones he knew where the door was.
Terse silence saturated the air for an awkward minute until Jack cleared his throat, “Since he won’t introduce himself , Dr. Lecter this is Will Graham. He's been our top agent for three years now but this year he’s just got one case along his teaching workload.”
More silence. Will scratched the back of his neck, feeling it heat with the weight of stares.
“The one who found the Strike with just a missing address, right?” A voice rang behind him. Will didn’t look back, just made a small noise of acknowledgement.
“We are needing some consultation assistance with a recent Chesapeake Ripper body found yesterday. More so, we need…” Jack cleared his throat. Will still refused to say anything. Let the head of the bureau lay in the grave he dug himself.
“Assistance with pheromone therapy?” The doctor supplied. Now Will did turn, teeth bared.
“I don’t need help with anything but the Ripper.” Will bit out.
“Will…just give scenting a chance—”
“I’ve said over and over Jack, I don’t need it. Connections, especially scent ones, just get in the way.”
“You see Dr. Lecter, Will has been assigned to our most difficult case file. One even he can’t make headway with. The stress has made him irritable—“
“I’ve always been irritable.” Will interrupted.
“—and his pheromones have become erratic and unpredictable. At the best of times they’re pestering. At the worst of times, they’re suffocating the rest of the staff. It’s worrying, how he’s reactive, nearly possessive, to the scenes now. I think he’s scenting the Ripper too much—“
“ Fuck you Jack! I told you I had a goddamn cold that day and don’t talk about me like I’m not right here . ” Will clenched and unclenched his fists.
“I wouldn’t have to, if you’d speak to the doctor yourself!” Jack seethed.
“I’m out of here. This is a waste of my goddamn time.” He stomped toward the door, his hand on the handle before a soft voice stopped him, bristling the hairs along his neck.
“Mr. Graham.”
Will whipped around, taking the opportunity to scan the doctor’s face for the first time. His eyes were nearly black bleeding into maroon, thin lips in that permanent half smirk, head cocked in an almost predatory observance. A tasteful, midnight black collar adorned the man’s straight neck.
“I look forward to consulting with you tomorrow.”
“Don’t get used to it.” Will snapped, slamming the door behind him.
The concrete halls did nothing to cool his head as he returned to his classroom. Home away from home and all that shit.
“Jesus, Graham.” Beverly was sitting on his desk by the time Will made it there. “I guess the talk didn’t go so well?”
“Get out. I’m not in the mood.” Will sneered, already regretting his tone. Beverly scoffed and jumped off his desk.
“Chill out dude. Your pheromones stink.” She waved a hand in the air dramatically. “You should probably go home and get some sleep.”
Beverly was the only one who could match Will’s ‘snap first, apologize later’ approach with as much venom, or more likely, letting it roll off her back like he’d asked her to go to lunch with him.
“I—“ Will rubbed his eyes, dark circles stamping into his very skull. “I know you’re right.” He said instead, knowing for Beverly that admitting she was right was better than an apology.
“But I’m close Beverly. I’m telling you, I’m so close to finding him out.”
“Maybe if you slept well and ate a meal and, I don’t know, took care of your other biological needs, you’d be able to make that final push.” Beverly said, depositing two sandwiches into Will’s hands.
“I’m not scenting a stranger. Especially not one hired to help me.” Will grumbled, unwrapping one sandwich to begin tearing into it. He didn’t realize how hungry he’d been until now.
“Plenty of people hire others for this. Hell, there are even apps for it now. There isn’t any shame in it.” Beverly insisted.
It’s easy for someone already mated to say that
“I won’t try to convince you. Your body…you have to make your own decisions about that. But at least promise me you’ll give him a chance to help with the Chesapeake Ripper. You’ve been taking that case on by yourself for too long.” Beverly said, tapping a manicured nail on the three folders stacked on Will’s desk. All devoted to the Ripper. Will felt his lip involuntarily twitch.
“Fine.” Will muttered around his turkey sandwich.
“And you have to promise to come over the next time my wife cooks dinner. You know how fragile an alpha and their pride is.” She smirked as she walked past him. Will knew his own lips were in an uncontrollable upturn.
“Alright I promise.”
They began a few more pleasantries, knowing Will needed some moments to calm down. Once the room smelled again like carpet cleaner and that nasty disinfect they used on the desks, Beverly and Will rubbed temples. More of a self soothing act than a goodbye.
They bid each other farewell, Beverly off to a lab and Will plopping at his desk to grade papers. Only once the time had ticked to 30 minutes, then an hour, could Will feel comfortable in cracking open the files on his desk.
Meticulously, the evidence was bagged in one folder. Things that couldn’t even really be called evidence, a crushed leaf, a spare piece of cloth, a snapped twig, but they all had one thing in common that made them important enough to keep.
Will opened one of the bags and took a deep breath, instant relief blooming in his chest like a flower in a rain shower.
Never obvious, but the killer always left something with a hint of their scent on it. Will would never admit it, not even to himself, but that’s what was driving his pheromones insane. His gums itched like ants were crawling beneath them in urgency to smell, lick, claim.
He closed the bags, once again digging his nails into his eyes to ground himself. Spreading the second file’s pictures across his desk with a heavy head in his hands, Will looked at them for the millionth time. They were gorgeous as art in a museum, thoughtful and well rounded, conveying clear messages and references.
Will ran his fingers down the one that always struck him the most, though it was the ugliest. It was a woman half suspended on a set of antlers, naked and picked at by birds, missing lungs and a tongue.
For weeks he couldn’t believe that nugget of thought working in his brain like a pebble in a shoe. The Chesapeake Ripper, infamous and uncatchable, had helped Will Graham solve a case. Will’s biggest case, and after that the fucker had been leaving little trails of scents for Will to recognize his work.
The thought ate away at Will. The thought of the Ripper not only being aware of his presence, conscious of him, but pursuing him.
The worst part was Will enjoyed it. His pheromones went haywire at even the hint of this scent in any amount.
He just had to keep it a secret. How could he justify such a dilemma? No one could find out.
Not Jack
Not Beverly
And sure as hell not Dr. Lecter.
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“We meet again so soon Mr. Graham.” Dr. Lecter saddled up beside him. Will tried to refrain from rolling his eyes—and failed.
This was the second Ripper kill in two weeks. They were becoming frequent, nearly erratic considering the usual MO, garnering all of Will’s attention. Sleep was evading him. He couldn’t help but feel this change of style wasn’t a good thing.
Will felt his nostrils flare, the residue of the killer’s scent always hung in the darkness, he just had to locate it. Circling the body yielded no results so the agent began to branch out to the surrounding area.
The body was surrounded by dense trees, wrapped in hanging vines, his chest one big open wound that birds and insects had already picked through. Cicadas screamed in preparation for the June heat coming, the sound already scrambling Will’s brain.
“Are you looking for anything specifically?” that nagging voice sounded behind him, breaking his concentration.
“Aren’t you here to consult Dr. Lecter? Shouldn’t you be with Jack or literally anyone else?”
“Hannibal.”
“Hmm?” Will closed his eyes, concentrating hard to find the scent again.
“Call me Hannibal.”
“Sure thing, whatever.” Will turned around to head back to the scene, seething that the trail was lost by interruption, only to jump when he found Dr. Lecter right behind him. The man moved quite silently.
Will had never met an omega that stood so tall, so brazen with proximity and confidence, as he leaned down and sniffed.
“Your pheromones are quite overbearing. Are you in distress?” Dr. Lecter cocked his head, eyes shining with amusement.
“Don’t smell me.” Will shoved a finger in his chest, pushing his way past Lecter, day getting worse by the second.
“Difficult to avoid. I’ve met a lot of distressed alphas but this scent is quite unique. Smells like they’d sell it with a little ship on the bottle.”
“And what? I assume you smell like expensive cheese or white wine or something equally posh and pretentious right?”
“You can find out. If you want.” Dr. Lecter said, once again closing the distance with long strides, making Will side step once again to avoid skin contact. Will sighed.
“Look, I need to concentrate right now. I have to find the Ripper’s scent again. Someone interrupted me.” Will mumbled the last bit. He closed his eyes, taking in great big lungfuls of the surrounding forest.
Pupils blowing to encompass the iris, Will caught the scent, feeling his shoulders droop just slightly. Lecter still hung like a shadow behind him, but it was easier to ignore now that Will had something to concentrate on.
After a few minutes, Will donned some gloves to pick out a long red ribbon tied to a limb. A tinkling bell swayed in the stifling hot breeze.
“Why would they leave this?” Will thought aloud, not daring to scent the evidence before sliding it into a bag. At least not with Dr. Lecter practically resting his chin on Will’s shoulder to get a look.
“Pretty. You’ve got the killer’s scent down well. You picked it out among a lot of other factors.” Lecter mused. Will could only sidestep again, choosing to ignore the man and head back to the other processors.
“When did the killer begin leaving the FBI gifts?” Dr. Lecter began anyway.
Me. He’s leaving me gifts
“How should I know what a killer such as the Chesapeake Ripper is thinking?”
“Do you not work for the behavioral unit?”
Will scoffed at the small jab, “This guy is different. An anomaly of anomalies. All I can figure out is he’s an artistic individual who takes inspiration from an array of styles. Lately, it seems he is taking some inspiration from Italy.”
Dr. Lecter made a low noise in his throat at that. Contemplative.
“So he remakes art from already famous pieces. Does that really make him artistic?” Lecter said, seeming to catch up and fall in step beside Will. No matter how much Will wanted to leave him behind. How was he stuck with the only aggressive omega? Weren't they supposed to be cute and docile? Will thought to Beverly. Maybe he just had a history of attracting the carnivorous kind.
“Of course he’s artistic. His pieces ooze beauty, poise, and long term planning. I mean I’ve seen some that must have taken years to execute. He’s patient, calculating. Fierce.” Will swallowed. “He’s nothing like we’ve ever encountered. I mean shit no one can even tell if this scent is from an alpha, omega, or some mutated beta. It’s enthralling.”
The pair broke from the tree line, rejoining the other investigators. Jack filled them in.
“More surgical trophies taken, the heart and lungs this time, which further leads me to believe this is the work of a very dominant alpha.”
“There are plenty of beta and omega surgeons Jack.” Will chewed his lip. “Let’s not be hasty.”
He wouldn’t admit he wanted the Ripper to be an omega. Though he wasn’t sure why, when they found this guy he’d be sentenced to death and definitely not scott free available to be bedded by Will. Not that Will should want to be with a killer anyways. Maybe before the guy died they’d be willing to part with some of his clothes or something… something with a long lasting scent…
“I just can’t imagine anyone but an alpha doing something so brutish.” Jack shifted his weight. If Will had to guess, the man had just remembered a literal omega was standing right next to them. A successful one.
“Dr. Lecter, what are your thoughts?” Jack cleared his throat awkwardly. Lecter began his analysis, Will tuning him out to stare into the black chasm that used to be the victim’s chest. It was hypnotic in a way, the ribs were stanzas of the Ripper’s poetry. Abrasive and jutting out with pointed ends. Will was so drawn to it.
He reached out a gloved hand, running a latex finger across the white bone cleaned of impurity and wrapped in vine. Involuntarily, his hand tightened around the evidence bag. The ribbon called for him, begging him to card his exposed fingers against soft material.
His eyes closed.
He opened the bag.
“Will?” an accented voice rang across the clearing like a bell. Somehow, he forced his heavy eyelids open, realizing he’d walked to just inches from the body.
Will cut his eyes to the man on his left. He knew how he must look right now. Eyes high on pheromones, fangs peeking out from beneath his lips, dark circles hanging like drawn curtains. Dr. Lecter peered at him. He wasn’t sure how to take it. The omega looked excited. And jealous.
“Control yourself Graham.” Jack woke him from the trance by yanking Will at the forearm. He tried to swallow, throat clicking with dryness, before opening his mouth to answer. Or he would have if Lecter hadn’t spoken first.
“Why don’t I take Will back to his office? He can rest there.”
Jack nodded, not waiting for Will to protest, before dragging him to the line of cars.
“I’m fine.” Will said anyway, knowing he wasn’t.
“You’re pumping out pheromones like you just found the last omega on earth. Now either find a scent partner or I’m taking you off this case goddammit.” Jack shoved Will into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind him. Will rolled the window down, snapped from his stupor like a bucket of ice water had dropped on him.
“You can’t do that Jack! I’m your best chance at catching this son of a bitch!”
“Yes, and right now you’re my best bet of the bureau getting sued for overexposure to pheromones.” Jack said, giving one last glare to Will, “don’t test me Graham.”
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The ride was silent for nearly the entire hour drive back. Only once they’d parked in the lot, Lecter turning to face Will, did the agent speak.
“Pheromone therapy. What does it entail?” he said quietly, defeated, rubbing the plastic evidence bag he still held between his calloused fingers.
“Well, as you’re aware, alphas and omegas need constant pheromone exposure. The conventional way is for an alpha and omega to begin a partnership, whether platonic or romantic, to begin assisting each other in that aspect. The only other way, say between and omega and a beta, to meet each other’s needs would be to be mated. All things you know correct?”
Will sneered, “Yes Doctor, I went to middle school so I know all about it.”
“Good. Then you know what will happen if a person can’t express their biological needs? Specifically alphas?”
“I wouldn’t attack anyone.” Will spit, fangs bared in aggression. Lecter didn’t rise to the bait, merely cocking his head.
“I don’t recall saying you would. But alphas not exposed to enough pheromones might go through a psychotic break, yes. Tearing apart anything in their path or simply collapsing, their heart failed. The latter especially occurs when an alpha is also not taking care of their proper nutrition and sleeping habits.”
A beat of silence. Lecter continued after his point was made.
“My service is simply exposing you to calming pheromones once a day. We can have conversation at that time or—“ Lecter shrugged. “—find something else to do.”
Will sucked his teeth, tapping a finger on his jeans nervously before saying firmly, “I don’t… I don’t want to sleep with you.”
Dr. Lecter laughed, bringing by heat to Will’s neck in embarrassment, “Will, sexual conduct hasn’t been used in pheromone therapy for nearly seventy years. I assure you, we will go as little or as much skin contact as you feel comfortable with. No touching necessary.”
“Then I’ll do it. Only to stay on this case. Once I catch the killer I don’t want to see you again.” Will opened the car door before Lecter could comment, nearly jogging to get away from the way he’d humiliated himself.
“Will,” Lecter glided beside him, proving his escape method to be ineffective, “I’d like to set up an appointment tomorrow. How does 7pm sound?” He slid a matte card over to Will with his office address on it. The agent merely grunted, desperate to be alone in his office.
Finally, Lecter stopped at the door, giving a final, “Will?”
Will reluctantly faced him, facial expression hopefully screaming for the doctor to get on with it.
“Call me Hannibal.” Hannibal winked, before turning and returning to his parked car.
Will really hated that guy.
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Will shoved the eggs around with obvious distaste.
“You said the appointment was this evening. Why are you here?”
“Am I interrupting something? I made sure you didn’t have a class at this time.” Hannibal said after swallowing his own portion of breakfast.
“That’s not what I asked you.” Will moved the glass dish aside, focusing back on editing the slideshow in front of him for the 10am class.
“I told you yesterday a person has to keep up their diet and sleep along with the pheromone therapy. Our meetings won’t cure you of all ailments.”
“I don’t need a cure all. I need to stay on this case.” Will boiled, tired of the doctor being in his space.
“I’ll leave,” Hannibal said as if reading his mind, “once you eat breakfast.”
Will stopped typing. His gaze fell on Hannibal’s own as it narrowed.
“Threatening me already doctor?”
Hannibal smiled, all lip no teeth, but didn’t deny the charges brought against him. He merely pointed his own fork at Will’s food and said, “eat your breakfast.”
Will stabbed the fork into his eggs and meat, bringing it up to his nose for a sniff. “What kind of meat is this?”
“The good kind.”
Getting Hannibal to shut up was well worth the mystery meat, so Will shoveled it in, concentrating hard not to show how surprised he was. This food was gourmet. He hadn’t even been aware eggs could taste this good.
“What do you think?” Hannibal clicked the lid on his container to put back in a fancy looking lunch box. His smirk had deepened to another smile, this time divulging the appearance of the tip of one of his fangs.
Will said nothing, his belly swooping low at the appearance of fang, causing his brows to furrow in confusion. Sure, Will wasn’t blind, he could recognize Hannibal was attractive. Especially considering he was so unconventional in terms of omega appearance, but that didn’t mean Will wanted to bend him over the desk.
“Will? I got you coffee—oh.” Beverly saved Will from answering with a sudden appearance. It was unlike Will to allow anyone in his room at planning time, so Beverly hadn’t even knocked.
“Don’t worry, Dr. Lecter was just leaving.” Will slid the container over to him, attention returning back to his laptop. Beverly and Hannibal sized one another up as she rounded Will’s desk. After setting the coffee cup down, she rubbed her cheek on the top of his head in greeting, accepting his distracted pat on her cheek in turn.
“Oh yeah, you’re usually here for Jack. You helped out on that God’s eye killer.”
“Yes I did assist with that one. Quite the picture in the newspaper it made.” Hannibal said as he packed up his things and stood. One last scathing look was combed over where Beverly was still touching the back of Will’s office chair before he dipped his head in parting. “See you tonight Will.”
Will sighed, knowing what was coming.
“ See you tonight? ” Beverly grinned once the door closed behind Lecter. “What’s that mean, hmm? Do tell.”
“I simply have a… pheromone therapy appointment tonight. Nothing more.” Will said with monotone despite heat creeping up his neck from Beverly’s heavy stare.
“Well Graham I’d watch the sky on your way to your car tonight.”
Will drew his eyebrow up to a quizzical expression. Beverly grinned,
“You know, watch out for flying pigs up there.”
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Will looked at the building with trepidation. Psychiatrists weren’t exactly his favorite type of people, their offices held the same sentiment. He checked the time and trudged up the stairs to be five minutes early. Dr. Lecter seemed the type to care about that sort of thing.
Unfortunately, the door was already opened like a maw ready to devour.
“Will?” Hannibal’s voice drifted through the open space, calm as a breeze, “if you’re here you can come in.”
Reluctantly, Will approached the office. It was spacious, the walls lined with shelves towering into the upstairs loft. A fireplace adorned one wall, though nothing burned in its place, beside a beautiful wooden desk littered with drawings. Funny, Will hadn’t pegged Hannibal a messy artistic type.
The room had a soft glow of light from the oncoming setting sun, coupled with street lights shining inside, setting the sharp edges of Hannibal’s face into monstrous shadow.
“Good evening, have you had dinner?” Hannibal said, writing in a notebook propped up on one knee. Will couldn’t help but hang in the doorway, keeping his eyes on the open windows, curtains fluttering with warm air.
“Yes.” Will lied. Whether Hannibal believed him or not couldn’t be determined.
“Next appointment don’t eat before coming. I’ll make sure to prepare something. Pheromone therapy can be quite draining so I like to feed my patients something high in protein before partaking in it.”
He tapped the doorframe rhythmicatically, not providing a promise of commitment. Will didn’t look forward to stepping inside, not the scenting or the talking to accompany it, but he’d be damned if he was taken off the case over something like pheromones.
“Close the door when you sit down hmm? We’ll begin the hour once you relax a bit.” Hannibal supplied, closing the notebook and setting it on the table beside his chair. Long fingers steepled over his midsection in a taunting expression of patience.
After one great big sigh for dramatics, Will forced himself through the doorway, feeling the click of the handle was a nail in his coffin. He circled once around the chair as if it would bite him before finally perching on the end of it.
“There. Relaxed.” Will muttered.
Hannibal leaned forward with a smirk and a clipboard, a survey and a pen clipped to the front. Will’s eyebrows furrowed.
“What’s all this shit?” Will yanked the first sheet out. It was littered with stupid get to know me and my preferences questions. “I thought this was pheromone therapy.”
“Will, how can you expect the therapy to be efficient if we know nothing about each other? This only works if there is at least a small level of trust between us.” The doctor leaned back against the chair. “And I expect, especially for someone like you, that it takes time to establish even that.”
“I didn’t sign up for this.” Will’s leg began to bounce with nerves.
“I won’t force you to partake in something you don’t want to, but I will not sign you off to Agent Crawford until I’m fully convinced you’re on the road to stabilization.”
Will rubbed his face harshly, swallowing the bile creeping up his throat in an attempt not to get angry. Logically, he knew the doctor was right. He wouldn’t last much longer if he continued this half ass approach at his health.
“You don’t seem to have trouble making connections.” Hannibal barreled on after Will remained silent. “Miss Kantz and you seem to get along fine.”
“That’s different.” Will stared down at the paper, clutching the pen, beginning to scribble in answers.
“Enlighten me.”
“Bev is… well Bev. She pretty much forced me to be her friend when we met at the academy.” Will couldn’t help but feel a smile stretch his face. “She wouldn’t stop bothering me. I assumed it was… because I was an alpha at first. I really hated her for awhile but she won me over. In the end.”
“How'd she do that?”
Will felt his smile fall, “why? Interested in using her methods?”
“There is a thing one does when they want to get to know someone, perhaps you’ve heard of it? It’s called having a conversation.” Hannibal folded his ankle over the opposite knee as if expecting Will to now spill his guts.
“Why Dr. Lecter, I didn’t realize you could make a joke.”
“I even surprise myself sometimes.”
Will rewarded a small push of air between his lips. Not quite a chuckle but no longer frowning.
“Beverly helped me out of flunking one of my classes when my rut was irregular.” Will admitted, tipping his chin up defiantly because he felt too vulnerable in the moment. “She’s helped me avoid bad relationships or pheromone chasers. And…” he began tapping a blunt finger on the side table. “For awhile she helped me with pheromones too. Though we’ve never been of the sexual appetite, before she got married last year she’d help me with this kind of thing about once a week.”
“What have you done in the year since she’s mated?”
“Nothing really. A hookup here or there.” Sniffing the Chesapeake Ripper’s kills.
“I see. Would you consider our meetings a betrayal of Beverly and the things you feel you owe her for?” Hannibal cocked his head with keen observance.
Will had never seen an omega as predatory as Lecter.
“Careful doctor.” Will growled, “I’m not here to be psychoanalyzed. You won’t like me when I’m psychoanalyzed.” Will held out the completed clipboard with a scowl.
“So I’ve heard.” Hannibal shed his jacket and cracked his neck, setting the survey aside for future reading. “Now that our hour is almost up, it’s time to see if we’re compatible, though I already know I’m suited to your scent since you’ve supplied it quite generously to the public.”
Will narrowed his eyes but kept his tongue in check. This part was the thing he dreaded most and anxiety set his nerves on fire. Hannibal stood and held a hand for Will, not batting an eye when the agent stood without taking the offered hand. Will wasn’t even sure Hannibal had the ability to feel self conscious.
His fangs ached as the omega tilted his neck toward Will, allowing him a position to lean in. The scent curled up like smoke from a fire, giving a hint of burning wood and trampled snow. Will could practically feel his throat go cold like drinking ice water. Hints of another potential layer were teased, but Will couldn’t place them.
Muscles unwinded, his heart beat slowed, relief cooled his singed nerves. Will hadn’t even noticed his eyes were closed until he nearly jumped out of his skin as Hannibal brushed a nose to his neck.
“What do you think?” Hannibal smirked again. Will was beginning to think that was the man’s default state.
“I believe we’ll be compatible.” Will said, his voice embarrassingly hoarse. Hannibal smiled, displaying his large canines. Was this guy truly an omega?
“I look forward to it.”