(i’m making will a little younger than canon. sorry it took me so long to write this, sanny!!)
Hannibal’s not the type of omega that people would ever try to mess with. He doesn’t take suppressants (never has) and he always washes alpha stink right off of him immediately after intercourse because, well, he wouldn’t want anyone thinking that he’s mated and incapable of taking care of himself or something. He’s proud to be an omega and is absolutely offended when people try to make him feel bad about it either through pity or condescension.
Lately, Hannibal’s been more annoyed than usual. He’s reaching his late 40s now, and people are starting to notice. It’s not as easy for him to pick up an alpha for a one-night stand—or, actually, it is, but he doesn’t attract the kind of alphas he likes anymore. He’s really bored with his options, and he’s sick of people wondering all the time why he’s not mated.
Hannibal is at the grocery store when the scent assaults him. Alpha, but not the usual pungent arrogance that he normally smells in displeasure. No, this alpha is a different brand of intensity. Unassuming, soft, and unavoidably sweet. Hannibal instinctively traces the scent until his basket nearly bumps into a younger man, maybe early 30s, a few inches shorter than him and with a noticeably smaller frame. Before they’ve even made eye contact, Hannibal’s mind is already chanting a chorus of “mate.”
Hannibal’s not one to beat around the bush, so he starts with a soft smile and, “Do I smell as good to you as you do to me?”
The man’s brow furrows in scared confusion, but then he hesitantly nods and looks down at the ground.
Hannibal can’t help himself. He inches closer to the man and bends his head to his level to try to bring his eyes back up. “Do you have a name?”
His voice is even sweeter than his smell. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Graham. My name is Hannibal Lecter. Would you like my card?”
He nods again, and his eyes finally make their way back up to Hannibal’s, looking more trusting this time.
Hannibal reaches into his inner breast pocket and pulls out a business card. Will takes it slowly and looks at it for a long time.
“You’re a psychiatrist?”
Hannibal smiles wider. “Yes. You may make an appointment if you’d like.”
Another nod. “Thank you, Dr. Lecter. It was nice meeting you.”
Will turns to leave then before Hannibal can say anything else, which doesn’t bother him like it should.
Will calls to make an appointment a week later. Hannibal fits him in at the end of the day.
It turns out Will is a lot more talkative than initially demonstrated. Their appointment is more professional than Hannibal expected, and he finds himself enthralled with this alpha for more than just the fact that they would make suitable mates.
Will has a laundry list of identity issues, the first of which that he has never felt like an alpha with the exception of caring for his seven dogs. He’s never had anything else to feel protective of, to call his own, never any desire to take charge or take ownership of anything.
“Will, do you have any desire with me? I’m not asking as a professional,” Hannibal states at the end of their session.
Will takes a long time to answer, but then he nods quickly.
“I imagined…bending you over your desk when I walked in. And knotting you. Biting, biting as well.”
Hannibal smells the beginnings of arousal in his office, but he doesn’t know if it’s his or Will’s. “And these desires are not your natural inclination with others?”
“You could ask me, you know.”
Will shifts in his chair and looks skeptical. “Ask you what, Dr. Lecter?”
“I believe you know.”
Will pushes his chest out and his face goes dark. Yes, there’s the alpha. “Dr. Lecter, would you like to take my knot?”
Hannibal feels heat rise in his cheeks at the wording. Take my knot as if Hannibal is the one in the position of action, the position of power. “Yes.”
When they both stand and stare at each other, Hannibal wrongly believes that he will have to guide Will and talk him through this. Instead, he’s turned around and pressed up against Will’s chest so fast he instinctively tenses up.
Will presses a hard kiss to his neck and whispers, “You smell very good.”
Then he’s pushing Hannibal into his chair and removing his clothes for him. He folds them neatly while Hannibal holds onto the arms of the chair and leaks slick down his legs. He feels something constrict in his chest at the thought that Will just knew he’d want his suit folded.
Will runs his hands all over Hannibal’s back and chest before taking his cock in his hand. He pumps a few lazy strokes before finally grabbing Hannibal’s ass with his other hand and pushing at his entrance.
At the sound of Will’s growling moan, Hannibal clenches and begins moving against the pressure.
Hannibal comes first with the help of Will’s hand, but Will’s not long to follow. His knot feels so good and so big that Hannibal thinks he could get hard again immediately.
Too blissed out to move, they end up knotted for 45 minutes on the armchair, Hannibal sitting on Will’s lap.
“You proved me wrong,” Hannibal says after a while.
“You’ll have to be more specific.”
“I thought it was a mistake that you were an alpha.”
Will leans forward and bites Hannibal’s neck hard enough to break the skin. “I did too until today.”