Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6332047.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Hannibal_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Will_Graham/Hannibal_Lecter
  Additional Tags:
      Alpha/Beta/Omega_Dynamics, Alpha_Hannibal, Omega_Will, Mating_Cycles/In
      Heat, Knotting, First_Time, Age_Difference, Hannibal_is_Hannibal, Feral
      Behavior, honesly_just_a_lot_of_morally_questionable_behaviour_in
      general, will_is_like_a_semi_feral_child_who_doesn't_care_if_the_people
      is_food, im_definitely_going_to_hell
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-03-25 Words: 3360
****** Ethereal ******
by humanveil
Summary
     Perhaps he should have killed him, but when a little, Omega boy
     stumbles upon Hannibal in the woods, the Alpha can't help but be
     intrigued.
Notes
     Done for a prompt. This is my first time writing A/B/O, and it was a
     bit of an experiment. I researched the topic, but there still might
     be mistakes.
Soft rays of sunlight brighten the clearing, the sky a pinkish blue above him.
It will be dark soon, he knows, and he has to hurry.
He adds the last touches to the body in front of him, lips tilting in a small
smile as he stands back to admire the display. Hannibal has worked through the
entire afternoon, each of his movements exact, calculating, to end up with
something he is happy with. The perfect embodiment of his envisions.
He’s pleased with the body in front of him; the serene look on the victim’s
face, the open chest, the floral arrangement. It’s a piece of art, well worth
the time he has devoted to it.
He starts to pack his equipment away, placing his tools into the black duffle
bag resting at his feet. He’s almost done when he catches the scent. It travels
through the light wind, the smell sweet and unmistakable. He inhales deeply,
contemplating as he scans the clearing, gaze trailing over bushes and trees.
He moves around quietly, knife in one hand, as he follows his nose, seeking out
the source of the scent. There is a chance that he has been seen, and Hannibal
cannot risk being exposed.
A rustling to the left of him gains Hannibal’s attention, and he turns swiftly,
surprised when he spots the dog, its muddy little body running out into the
open. It runs straight to the display, a low growl leaving its mouth as it
circles the cooler containing the organs.
Hannibal acts quickly. He grabs the cooler, holding it from the mutt’s reach,
and stares down at the little dog.  The barking is loud in the open area, and
to calm it down, Hannibal retrieves a kidney. He chucks if a few feet away from
him, watching as the dog runs to devour it, obviously starving.
He moves to where the pup came from, the scent growing stronger with each step.
Carefully, he uses his free hand to part the bushes, eyes looking out into the
dense nature in hopes of finding its owner.
He’s not disappointed. His gaze lands on a spot in the distance, a small, young
figure half hiding behind a large tree trunk. He takes a few steps closer,
fascinated at his finding.
Omega boys are rare, especially in their current situation.
He takes another step, but stops when he sees the boy take a step back, the
anxiety radiating off of him in waves. He’s scared, as he should be.
After staring at each other for a moment, Hannibal decides to speak. “I’m not
going to hurt you,” he says, his voice calm and soothing; as if he were
comforting a patient. It’s quiet, but it carries across to the boy easily.
The boy doesn’t reply. Hannibal wonders if he even knows how.
“Is this your dog?”
Time seems to drag on forever, but eventually Hannibal sees the boy give a
minute nod, his long curls falling in front of his eyes.
Hannibal smiles briefly, places the cooler at his feet, and takes another step
forward. Slowly, he reaches a hand out. “Come.”
The boy shakes his head now, more vehemently than Hannibal had expected. He
wonders if this has happened before.
“I won’t hurt you,” he repeats, forcing himself to ignore the animalistic
instinct coiling inside of him.
The boy bites his lip, eyes looking past Hannibal, into the clearing, where the
body and his dog rest. Hannibal follows his gaze before crouching down,
clicking fingers on one hand, and watching as the mutt comes right to him. He
scratches behind its ears, smiling again as he looks at the boy.
“Your dog trusts me,” he says, hoping it’ll convince the little Omega to come
near him.
It takes another moment, but the boy eventually walks to him. His steps are
hesitant, ready to run off if he finds the need to. The dog jumps up at him,
its tail wagging, and the boy pets his head in return.
“What’s your name?”
The boy doesn’t respond. Instead, he stares at the spot past Hannibal’s
shoulder, where the body lies displayed. Hannibal stays quiet, watching the
boy, the emotions that flash through his eyes as he assesses the situation.
“Dead?”
The voice is rougher than Hannibal had expected, but sweet all the same. He
places the boy at fifteen, maybe sixteen, years old. He’s smaller than most
boys that age, but the Omega status and living situation would explain that.
“Yes,” he answers quietly, pleasantly surprised when the boy shows no fear.
Blue eyes flick from the cooler to Hannibal’s own, their gaze questioning.
“Eat?”
Hannibal smirks, his gaze trailing over the boy; the muddy, messy hair, the
old, torn clothing. He’s got the look of someone who only uses the water of a
stream to wash, but Hannibal finds him beautiful nonetheless.
“I can make you something to eat,” Hannibal tells him. “If you come with me.”
 “No,” the boy replies, taking a step back.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
Even as the boy shakes his head, Hannibal can hear a low growl leave his
stomach.
“I can tell you are,” Hannibal says. “And your dog. I can take care of the both
of you.”
The boy looks away from him, his gaze moving to rest on his dog. The scent is
much stronger, now, its sweetness filling the air around them. It’s not yet the
ripeness of heat, but it’s close. Hannibal wonders if the boy knows.
“I can bring you back, afterwards,” Hannibal tells him, despite having no real
intention to. The boy will either come and stay with him, or be killed. He
won’t risk his freedom for this. “You don’t want your mutt to starve, do you?”
Another pause, this one longer than the last. Hannibal stares at the boy’s
mouth, the pink tongue that pokes through the lips. He can’t believe his luck.
“No,” the Omega replies, quietly.
“Then come.”
Hannibal can still feel the resistance, but the boy’s biological need to submit
to an Alpha eventually wins, and he nods. Hannibal smiles, pleased with
himself.
“Good boy,” he murmurs, the Omega’s slight shiver at the words not going
unnoticed. “Follow me.”
                                       *
The scent only grows more intoxicating on their drive, and Hannibal surprises
himself with his self-restraint. If he knew it wouldn’t send the Omega running,
he would have had him in the car. He tells himself that it will, undoubtedly,
be better when the boy comes to him; desperate and confused, craving the touch
of an Alpha.
It takes almost an hour to drive to his home, and the boy falls asleep in the
back seat, his head lolling to the side, the mutt asleep next to him. The sight
almost warms Hannibal’s heart.
Hannibal’s hand barely touches the boy’s skin before he wakes with a start,
mouth opening in a silent gasp, his eyes going wide as he stares up at
Hannibal, momentarily confused. His sudden movement wakes the dog, who stands
alert next to him; protective.
Hannibal retrieves his hand and takes a step away from the car, now securely
hidden in his garage. He forces his smile to look friendly, rather than
predatory. “We’re here,” he tells him, holding the car door open for the boy.  
The Omega hurries out, his eyes wide as they flick around the garage, taking
everything in. Before shutting the door behind him, Hannibal notices the traces
of dirt and mud staining the seat. He makes a note to clean it later.
“This way,” he says, walking towards the door leading to his hallway. The boy
bends to pick up his dog, holding it securely in his arms as he follows
Hannibal through the door and into the home. Again, his gaze flicks to
everything it can, mouth dropping open as he takes in the refined décor.
“You’ve never seen a place like this, have you?”
“No.”
“What’s your name?”
The Omega’s eyes move back to him, and Hannibal is pleased to see him more
relaxed. “Will.”
Hannibal repeats the name, rolling it across his tongue. “Why don’t we get you
cleaned up, hm?”
Will follows him upstairs without a word, holding his squirming pet tightly,
like a lifeline. He takes in as much of the home as he can, remembering the
route they walk in case he needs to get away quickly.
Hannibal opens the door to a vast bathroom, its furnishings obviously
expensive, and walks to the edge of a large bathtub. He turns the faucet on,
letting the water run freely before turning to Will. He reaches a hand out,
beckoning, and the boy steps closer, albeit tentatively.
“Do you think you can manage to wash on your own?”
“I’m not a baby.”
Hannibal’s lips twitch at the response. “Good,” replies. “I’ll leave something
for you to wear in the room across the hall. I’ll be in the kitchen, so call
out if you need me.”
He turns to leave, almost reaching the door before Will speaks. “What do I call
you?”
Hannibal contemplates giving his real name, but, in the end, all he says is,
“Alpha.”
                                       *
Despite not wanting to, Hannibal takes a mild suppressant before he starts
cooking. Will’s scent is growing sweeter by the minute, and now that he has
him, in his own domain, Hannibal needs something to help keep himself in check.
The affects will wear off soon enough, anyway; certainly before the full force
of the Omega’s heat is shown.
He busies himself with dinner; a simple meal, for once. Something that won’t
upset the boy’s stomach, but will still be enjoyable for the both of them. He
stays alert while preparing, listening for any noise that may come from the
room above.
He’s plating the food when he catches the scent again; even stronger than last
time, now that the dirt and grime has been washed away. He looks towards the
hallway, where it comes from, pleased with what he finds.
Will stands at the edge of the hallway, his body half hidden behind the wall.
He’s dressed only in underwear and one of Hannibal’s sweaters, the red fabric
reaching his mid-thigh, exposing the smooth skin of his legs. His hair sticks
to his forehead, the curls damp and void of dirt. Curled happily in one arm is
the mutt. It, too, is now clean.
“Alpha?” the boy asks, quietly, eyes glancing to the food before returning to
Hannibal.
The sight of him, the sweet sound of his voice, is addicting. Hannibal finds
himself glad he took the suppressant.
“Yes?”
The hand that isn’t holding the dog pulls at the ends of the sweater, as if to
cover more skin, and the boy’s face flushes. Hannibal thinks he looks sinfully
pretty.
“The pants were too big.”
Hannibal’s tongue drags across his bottom lip, a protective flare igniting in
his stomach. “That’s perfectly alright, Will. What you have on is fine,” he
answers. “Now come.”
Will steps forward after a brief pause, and moves to stand next to Hannibal.
His dog squirms at the sight of food, its ears poking up, the little body
almost jumping from Will’s lax hold. Hannibal hears a quiet, panicked Hunter
leave the boy’s lips as he hugs the dog back against his chest, his body
turning to the side as if to protect the food.
Hannibal watches the exchange, bemused, before reaching for a bowl placed to
the side. It’s filled to the brim with food specifically made for the mutt. He
motions for Will to follow him, and the Omega does, his bare feet trailing
after him curiously. He leads him to the dining room, and places the bowl on
the ground for the mutt.
“That’s for him,” he murmurs, tilting his head to the dog. “Take a seat, and
I’ll bring you yours.”
The Omega nods, crouching down to let the puppy jump from his arms safely
before obediently taking a seat at the table. He waits, silently, for Hannibal
to come back, his curious eyes searching the room. The décor is…a little
creepy, but it’s warm, and sheltered, and he knows the situation could be much,
much worse.
Hannibal is back almost instantly, a smile on his face as he places the plate
in front of the boy. Will has no idea what is, but it looks nice and smells
yummy, so he doesn’t bother asking about it. Instead, he looks up at Hannibal,
his facial expression questioning, asking permission.
Delighted that the boy is already seeking approval, Hannibal smiles and tilts
his head in a single nod.
“Eat,” he says, watching as the Omega does just that.
                                       *
The meal passes quickly and without issue. Will focuses on eating rather than
talking, his eyes flicking between Hannibal and his beloved dog every now and
then. By the time they’re finished, sleep warms his body, and he finds he
does’t wan’t to return to his makeshift home in the woods. Not yet, at least.
He doesn’t mention anything to the older man; rather, he does as he’s told and
follows him back into the kitchen. He expects the Alpha to ask him to clean up,
but the man does no such thing. He lets Will rest against the countertop, hands
twiddling with each other between the sleeves of the too large sweater.
“Are you tired?”
Will nods wordlessly, eyes fixated on Hannibal’s body as he moves.
“Do you want to stay?”
Will hesitates before nodding again, his bottom lip held between his teeth.
Logically, he knows he should be more weary, but he's tired, and his body feels
funny, and he likes being taken care of by the Alpha.
Hannibal smiles at him, the movement brief but there all the same. He places a
hand on Will’s back, his palm pressed flat between his shoulder blades, high
enough that the tips of his fingers graze the skin of the Omega’s neck. The boy
gasps at the touch, the sound like music to Hannibal’s ears.
Feigning concern, he asks, “Are you alright?”
Will nods quickly, head turning away from Hannibal’s gaze.
“I have a spare room,” he tells the boy, leading him from the kitchen. The
pattering of paws sounds, and Hannibal turns to see Hunter follow them. “Just
across from mine. You can sleep there.”
“Okay,” Will replies, his voice barely a whisper.
                                       *
Hours later, the click of the bedroom door wakes Hannibal.
The first thing he notices is the sweet scent of heat, the tang almost
overwhelming his senses. He keeps his eyes shut, listening as the Omega steps
forward, closer to the bed. He can hear the heavy breathing, the small, needy
whimpers leaving the boy’s mouth.
“Alpha?” The voice is shaky, the desperation evident. When Hannibal doesn’t
turn, Will reaches a hand out, nudging him softly. Again, he asks, “Alpha?”
Hannibal finally looks at him, his room lit with he low lighting of the
hallway. His gaze trails over the Omegan boy, appreciative of the beauty. Will
looks gorgeous, standing there in Hannibal’s own clothing. His eyes are wide,
shiny, his dark curls, now damp with sweat, press against history head, and
slick trails down his legs.
A low growl levels Hannibal’s mouth, animalistic and dominant, and Will
whimpers again.
“I—I need,” the boy tries to talk, but his voice is barely above a whisper, his
body almost trembling. He moves closer to the bed, and Hannibal sits up, almost
taking pity on him. “Al—Alpha…”
Hushing him, Hannibal pulls Will to the bed, glad when the Omega comes
willingly. Small, sweaty hands grab hold of Hannibal’s shoulders through the
thin fabric of his pyjama shirt, his finger clenching the fabric. Will opens
his mouth to say something, but all that comes out is a incoherent string of I
don't know and I need and please, Alpha, please.
Hannibal combs his fingers through the boy’s hair, the gesture soothing, while
his other hand slides under the sweater, the pads of his fingers trailing over
Will’s heated skin. The Omega shivers at the touch, the needy noises leaving
his mouth growing louder.
“Do you want me to take care of you?” he whispers, leaning in to nip at the
boy’s jaw, just below his ear. “Fill you?”
Body shaking, almost sobbing in need, Will nods enthusiastically. Hannibal
wonders how long the Omega had spent in the spare room, contemplating if what
was happening was bad enough to seek help.
He removes Will’s clothing swiftly, letting the slick soaked material drop to
the floor, and lays the boy in the middle of his bed. His own clothes follow,
and soon enough he's leaning over the Omega, his hands gasping narrow hips. He
takes a moment to look at Will, who stares back up at him; confused, desperate,
and vulnerable. Pleas fall from the boy’s lips, and Hannibal doesn't waste
time. Holding back his natural instinct all day had made him all the more eager
for this exact moment.
He eases into the Omega, cherishing the pure look of pleasure that colours
Will’s face with the movement. Loud, breathy moans fill the room as Hannibal
begins rocking his hips in an even rhythm. Will pushes up against him, the
throes of heat now in full force.
“Calm down, little one,” he murmurs, pushing down on Will’s hips to keep him
still. “All in good time.”
Another whimper, more pitiful than the last, leaves the boy’s lips. Touch
starved, Hannibal thinks. Living alone in the woods, with only his dog as
company, it's no wonder the boy was so needy. His Omegan desire to be touched,
to be cared for, has obviously never been fulfilled.
He pulls out almost all the way before slamming back in, his thick cock hitting
the boy’s prostate, giving the little Omega what he'd begged for. His grip on
the boy is tight enough to leave bruises, the crescents of his fingernails
digging in hard enough to draw tiny droplets of blood.
“A—Alpha,” Will whines, his whole body arching up into Hannibal’s with each
thrust. “I—I…”
“What do you want?” Hannibal asks, leaning down to bury his face near the boy’s
collarbone, his nose nudging the underside of his jaw. “Do you want me to mark
you?” Thrust. “Knot you?” Thrust. “Breed you?”
Will grabs at him mindlessly, moans of yes and please and Alpha, Alpha, Alpha
filling the air between them. Hannibal drags his tongue across the heated skin
of the Omega’s neck, the bittersweet taste of sweat and heat coating his tongue
as his cock slides in and out of Will.
Hannibal bites down on Will’s shoulder – not a bonding spot, he doesn't want to
do that, not yet – and growls at the low wine that escapes the boy’s mouth. The
Omega trembles under his touch, and, after the force of Hannibal’s next thrust,
comes with another loud moan. His eyes close, and his head tilts back as his
mouth drops open, fingers scratching at Hannibal’s back as he loses himself in
his orgasm.
The sight of him sends Hannibal over the edge, and Will feels the knot inflate
through his pleasure. There's pain, a dull, burning sensation, but Will’s mind
holds onto the pleasure of being knotted, of being worthy enough to have an
Alpha fill him with spurts of come.
Hannibal waits until they both catch their breath before turning them to the
side. He holds Will against his chest, his hand resting against the Omega’s
stomach, stroking softly as he shushes the boy. Will leans into him, too
exhausted to do much else.
In a moment of tenderness, Hannibal places a kiss atop Will’s head, his nose
burying in damp curls. “Better?” He asks, voice a quiet murmur.
Eyes half shut, Will nods against Hannibal’s chest, an affirmative hum leaving
his mouth.
“Good boy.”
Sleep tugs at him once more, and Will snuggles into the warmth and protection
offered by the Alpha. He's stuck there until the knot deflates, and,
surprisingly, he finds he doesn't mind
Right before he falls into the bliss of sleep, Will mumbles a quiet thank you.
Hannibal thinks he may keep him forever.
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