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At seventeen, Hannibal is old enough to realize his uncle’s atrocious taste in omega.
At dinner, he’s introduced to Robertus’s new project, their thirty-two-year-old next-door neighbor, Will. His low-cut blouse and floral midi skirt are unremarkable; there’s just enough skin showing to entice the eyes but not enough to draw unwanted attention. Hannibal thinks this one looks the most motherly out of all the omega he’s scared off. Will is pleasantly curvy in all the right places and one of those traditional types. A bit weary in the face but not unattractive.
If Hannibal hadn’t spent an embarrassing amount of time watching Will unrobe through his bedroom window, toying with the drawstrings of his sleep pants, he doubts he’d feel as perturbed by this arrangement as he does now.
What had started as a mere passing curiosity became a nightly ritual for Hannibal, soon blossoming into complete obsession. As far as he can recall, he’s had a taste for omega old enough to be his mother. Will even has the same curl pattern. Needless to say, Hannibal has a type.
Will holds his tongue throughout dinner and plays the part of a pretty but useless omega in the presence of full-blooded Alpha, keeping his neck down and only speaking when he’s spoken to, avoiding eye contact; standard etiquette for omega emphasized in traditional packs. Hannibal finds this reluctant embrace of omegahood unbearably attractive on him.
A faint crease between Will’s brow forms when he catches Hannibal’s eyes lingering too long on his chest, accentuated by the low neckline.
When prompted, Will throws Hannibal an unsuppressed smile of disgust across the dining table. Speaking looks painful to him, further deepening the crease, and his pheromones slightly sour. “Your uncle’s told me so much about you. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
Robertus clears his throat. “Don’t you have anything to say, Hannibal?”
“Well, he looks less expensive than the last one,” Hannibal says flatly, returning Will’s disingenuous smile.
Seeking to escape the tense atmosphere between the two Alpha in the dining room, Will politely offers to do the dishes like the sweet, domestic goddess he is so desperate to conform to.
“Don’t worry.“ Will’s hand grazes his uncle’s shoulder on the way past. The two of them exchange intimate smiles, twisting Hannibal’s gut with envy he can’t quite keep from bittering his scent.
Don’t look at him. Look at me, Hannibal’s Alpha nags.
Hannibal gets a flash of cleavage when Will leans over to collect his uncle’s silverware and feels his blood pressure spike to an uncomfortable degree.
Hannibal carefully sets aside his plate. The new influx of teenage hormones raging through his veins has made tempering his self-control challenging, but he is well-bred and hopes to reflect a sense of maturity to Will to make up for their age difference.
For Hannibal, his uncle is nothing but stern glares and lectures. “Behave yourself, Hannibal. Omega are fragile and weak at heart. Dear Will, I’m afraid, is weak-minded, too. A little past his expiration date, but nothing we can’t work on. He’ll make a decent third.”
Weak for the allure of uncle’s fortune to stoop so low, perhaps, though Hannibal refrains from saying that out loud. He has other matters on his mind, like the feline sway of Will’s hips as his modest three-inch heels strike against the floor, beckoning him to chase.
“Of course, uncle,” says Hannibal. “Where are my manners?”
His uncle waves him away, distracted by the phone ringing in the foyer.
Hannibal excuses himself a moment later and loops around from the back, instead of climbing the stairs like he usually would, and stalks into the kitchen through the garden entrance on quiet, predator’s footsteps.
Will looks over his shoulder in surprise. “You startled me,” he huffs, placing the plate on the bamboo rack to dry just as Hannibal slides the glass door back into place. “Hannibal, right? I’m sorry about dinner—if I offended you. I know this is all kind of sudden.”
“I apologize for my behavior at dinner. I was caught off guard.”
Will pauses, clearly uncomfortable being alone in the same room with him. “And you just felt like taking the long way to tell me that?”
No point in beating around the bush, then.
"Have you fucked him yet?" Hannibal asks.
The plate slips from Will's soapy fingers; he barely manages to catch it before it chips on the edge of the sink. "Excuse me?"
Hannibal grabs the plump, welcoming ass in front of him. The clothes fit Will’s perfect Aphrodite body like a glove. He’s been watching Will through the cracks in the blinds for such a long time, he feels an intimate connection with him, like a long-distance mother (a mother he’d like to fuck). He wonders if Will feels the same way, and if not, maybe he could be convinced.
Will spins around, wide-eyed and furious. “Stop that.”
“Have you fucked my uncle, Will?” Hannibal advances on him, trapping Will against the still-running faucet.
“No,” Will snaps, drying his hands on his skirt, eyes darting to the side. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
This close, Hannibal catches a whiff of calming pheromones and a light, feminine dab of perfume over lemon-scented dish soap. Will’s scent is like a mother’s embrace, something much closer to home than his uncle’s first mate. Hannibal pictures his mother, Simonetta, same hair, and same eye color as Will and he feels a pang of hunger that’s been dormant inside him for a long time.
Hannibal drops to one knee at Will’s feet, rubbing his cheek on Will’s breast and clinging to the sides of his skirt, scent marking him. "That's a relief."
“What’s wrong with you?!” Will emits a soft warning growl and attempts to squirm out from his grasp, his prey-like movements agitating Hannibal’s Alpha.
“I could ask the same," he chuffs, rising to his full height. "Was your submissive little gaze at dinner just an act?”
Hannibal is furious that Will would go against his nature and deny him this meager comfort. A petty growl against his neck, and Will’s biology corrects him, his body arching in instead of away like flowers yielding to a breeze.
“Hannibal, behave. At least try to control yourself,” Will scolds impulsively, much like his late-biological mother, which only serves to kindle Hannibal’s desires.
Hannibal drags his tongue along the ripe gland offered to him and conquers it between his teeth. “Mommy,” he growls, in the heat of the moment.
“Stop, stop it,” Will whines in alarm, palms shoving back into Hannibal’s chest. “Don’t call me that. You’re not my pup. Your uncle promised he’d give me one of my own once you’re off to your fancy little private university,” he hisses through bared fangs. “Now please, let go of me!”
“Careful. My uncle will hear,” Hannibal warns between greedy, punishing sucks at his scent gland. His hands roam Will’s curvy body and find his voluptuous breasts, kneading at them roughly through his white blouse in frustration.
He delights in Will’s pained little gasp and angles a knee between his legs, forcing his heels to skid open sideways on the marble floor.
Hannibal smiles, his fangs peeking out from behind his lips. “My uncle says a lot of things. Whatever it takes to get them on all fours. He’s discarded them for less. I’m sure you understand, Will.”
Will recoils like he's been burned, his claws coming out to play. "I'll yell."
Will is a terrifyingly territorial creature. But he is no more than an object, a pretty decoration, worth less than in his uncle’s eyes. His existence holds little weight in a den of pure-blooded Alpha. Hannibal is taller, stronger, and faster if it comes down to it.
He’s never stood a chance.
“Don’t be stupid, Will,” says Hannibal, calling his bluff, and with the help of his sharp teeth flirting with Will’s scent gland— “Be good and do as I say.”
Will shudders under him, registering his Alpha voice with a pitiful mewl. Hannibal had only recently found his chords developed, waiting for the perfect target to brandish it about like a boy with a new toy. Will just so happens to be that target.
In an instant, the challenge in Will’s eyes is replaced by reluctant acceptance, just like the rest of him. His scent sweetens on Hannibal’s tongue, and his face flushes, becoming more subdued and aligned with the willing image in Hannibal’s mind.
"What…" Will grabs the counter's edge to keep himself upright, and swallows thickly. "What do you want?"
"I want you, Will," Hannibal says. “To act as my mother, is that not your duty?”
“What, you want me to tell you what a naughty pup you’re being, something weird like that…?” Will laughs and glances at the doorway in hesitation, biting the nail of his thumb. “Aren’t you a little old to be playing house? Your uncle is right outside.”
Hannibal rips the annoying piece of fabric obstructing Will's flesh up and over his beautiful breasts, growling appreciatively at the first sight of bare skin, unmarked.
Will tries weakly to preserve his modesty by crossing his arms, but Hannibal has seen it all. He knows what Will gets up to behind closed doors when he thinks no one is watching; what a sweet whore he is, mouth ajar in his bedroom, riding his pillow and fondling his breasts.
“Better keep it down, then. You don’t want him to catch you like this—“ A bruising grip at Will’s love handles draws him nearer, preventing his escape “—whoring yourself out to his nephew right beneath his nose, do you? I imagine such a scandalous blow to his Alpha pride wouldn’t go over well.”
Will tenses, then lowers his gaze to the floor in submission with a whine so sweet and utterly omegan. “No.”
Knocking aside his arms, Hannibal tugs at the elastic of his bra. The hypnotic sight of Will's bouncing breasts and hushed, indignant whimpers escaping from the rosy lips of the older omega makes his knot stiffen so painfully, he almost wonders if he's experiencing rut for the first time again.
Fat tears gather at the corner of Will’s bright, fluttering eyes, his voice sweetening behind a coy smile, a manipulative attempt at disarming Hannibal’s Alpha—or perhaps he's finally learned his place. “Pup, please, if mommy takes any longer your uncle might start to wonder. We don’t want to get caught. Tonight’s a school night, isn’t it?”
Hannibal nods, transfixed.
Will pouts his lips and grooms him, rubbing little calming circles below his nape. "We can play later. I promise."
"Or we could play now, right here." Hannibal licks along his jaw and down his neck, rocking his thigh against Will’s groin before muttering, “I always get what I want, Will."
“...You're nothing but a spoiled brat,” Will whispers venomously, breath mingling hot with his, the distance between their lips just shy of a kiss. “Desperate for mommy’s love.”
With the way the five-letter word—mommy, aren't you mommy's good boy, Hannibal, yes you are, sweetheart—falls off his tongue and provides his mind with enough sustenance to supply his fantasies for days, Will is instantly forgiven. Hannibal knows he would do anything to make the words spill from his mouth again, regardless of the context.
“Maybe so. It’s a good thing you’re here now, Mother, to shower me with love,” says Hannibal, giving his nipples a pinch. "You've been neglectful."
Will bites his lip against a whine, weak to his Alpha voice. “…That’s right, pup.”
Hannibal finds temporary relief from his angry-hot knot by rutting against Will’s child-bearing hips, driving his inner Alpha into a near frenzy, and yanks the bra free. As happy as he is to see Will in lingerie, he’s happier seeing him without.
“They’re a lot bigger in person. I see now why my uncle is so enamored with you, you’re not his usual type, a bit too traditional looking for his tastes,” Hannibal remarks, cupping Will’s tits together and admiring the puffy, pink nipples up close. “Did you know he intends to make you his third?”
Will shrinks into himself, giving him a nervous laugh. “I figured.”
“But you’re perfectly suited to mine,” Hannibal adds, rolling his thumbs over Will’s erect nipples, watching his face scrunch up in pleasure. “I’m a bit more traditional than my uncle.”
Traditionalists believe in adhering to a one Alpha-one omega pack structure that fully allows the omega to embrace their submissive role as house omega and stay-at-home mothers. Non-traditionalist like his uncle viewed omega as toys to collect. Will wasn’t made to be placed on a shelf to collect dust.
Genetically speaking, Will's birthing hips and excessively large breasts made him superior to other omega.
He was built to be bred.
“W-wait—“ Will stammers. “What do you mean ‘in person’, have you been spying on me—oh.”
Will brings his hand to his mouth, strangling his moan as Hannibal buries his face in between his cleavage, eagerly drawing in the hardening bud with his tongue.
“My window has a great view,” Hannibal mumbles over peaks of milky flesh, parts of Will he’s dreamed of exploring for weeks since watching him arch beneath his fingers through the pale, sheer curtains.
A combination of sweat and vanilla-scented moisturizer overwhelms Hannibal’s olfactory. He finds himself pressing his nose closer, desperate for more of Will’s raw scent. Noisy suckles echo in the kitchen, leaving Will a wet, writhing mess.
Hannibal worships Will's sensitive nipples, twisting and tugging at them like he half expects him to start producing from sheer want alone, forcing sweet, muffled whimpers from Will with occasional flicks of his tongue. The scent of slick is heady, and Hannibal purrs, encouraging the gathering wetness between Will’s legs. He is content just suckling from Will's breast if he'll allow it, nothing more.
Eventually, Will is unable to hold back his moans. "Oh, God… not so hard, baby…" he blurts behind his palm, grinding his hot, wet cunt against his thigh. "Mommy's sensitive there, you know that…"
Hannibal doesn't know, no, but he does now, thrilled to see Will so naturally committing to the part of his doting mother.
"Does it feel good, Mother? Tell me," Hannibal rumbles, taking a brief moment to catch his breath and admire the blushing nubs, hard and glistening with his saliva. He wants to hear him say it.
"Mm." Will pets him, tentative at first, raking gentle fingers through his hair. "S'good, feels good, good boy, that's a good boy, Hannibal," he mutters, looking down at him with hazy, golden eyes.
The surge of bonding pheromones secreting from his overly sensitive nipples leaves the both of them dizzy and intoxicated.
As he throws his neck back, Will has the wild, delusional look of an omega in heat. “I’ve always wanted my own pup. I’d be a good mother.”
Hannibal is rewarded for his efforts, a sweet trickle of something on his tongue. He pulls back in surprise, then grins. "You're leaking, Mommy."
Will lets loose a high-pitched purr, a maternal type of sound that washes over Hannibal, warm and comfortable like a hug. “Why’d you stop…?” he whines, before wrapping him up in his arms, stroking his cheek with foreign tenderness that leaves Hannibal lightheaded. “Aren’t you hungry? Didn’t mommy ever teach you not to be wasteful? Keep sucking, baby.”
Hannibal suppresses a shiver, every nerve and instinct in his body vibrating with power—claim him, claim him, his Alpha roars. Will, who has so patiently kept himself unbonded thirty years for Hannibal’s sake, his body weeping with joy for the one finally worthy of breeding him full of young, virile seed, litter after litter.
He knew after a little convincing, Will would understand.
“Your body recognizes me,” Hannibal murmurs, inhaling the sweet heat of need radiating off the sultry slopes of Will’s skin, dimpling under his fingers.
His mouth waters, watching Will’s now dark red nipples bead with milk, an unbearable thirst growing inside him.
“Please, darling, they’re so sore,” Will begs, the gold ring engulfing his irises almost entirely as he pushes him back down. “Let mommy breastfeed you.”
Hannibal’s cock weeps sympathetically between his legs as he latches on. Milk beads shyly on his tongue, then generously, with the help of his hand, compressing Will’s breast like a pump. His eyes drift closed with a deep, contented purr.
Time melts away as he nurses. He feels sated in a way he hasn’t since childhood. But the desire clawing at the pit of his stomach is almost too much to endure.
With breastmilk drooling from his lips, Hannibal reaches down blindly and undoes his slacks, shoving Will’s skirt up. His fingers graze against lace panties soaked with slick, surprised to find Will already touching himself.
Will coos in his ear, nuzzling him closer—“That’s my sweet boy, drink it all up.”
Hannibal comes away from Will’s tit with a loud, wet pop that echoes across the kitchen, and swallows.
“Present,” he commands gruffly, ripping the panties from Will’s thick thighs like tissue paper.
“Yes, Alpha,” Will trills sweetly in obedience as he turns around to face the counter with his skirt hiked up, lifting his ass in the air and swaying it back and forth hypnotically in an omega mating ritual.
Something violent swells inside Hannibal at the sight of the older omega’s mature cunt, ripe and weeping in anticipation. Admittedly, he has not had much in the way of sexual encounters with omega. Any attraction he’s experienced thus far has been reserved for Renaissance-soft omega twice his age, colleagues of his uncle’s much like Will, but he has faith that instinct will take over.
“…What the hell are you waiting for?” Will stutters out a purr, throwing a half-hooded glance over his shoulder, and pushing his ass out. “Let mommy take care of your knot, sweetie. Show me what a big trad Alpha you are, darlin’. Breed me.”
Hannibal grabs hold of Will’s love handles and drives his knot home in one, perfectly aimed thrust.
“Oh, fuck—” Will’s arm shoots out on reflex with a yowl and sends one of his uncle’s wine glasses crashing to the floor, the shards joining the tattered lace at their feet.
"Mommy," Hannibal pants, the only word his brain manages to form. And then, sweat rolling down his temples, "Aren't you worried my uncle will hear?"
"Yes, Alpha!" Will screams, shuddering violently. "Who cares if he hears us!"
Truly; his uncle is the least of Hannibal’s worries, with Will’s tight heat engulfing his knot, spasming around him excitedly. Will is tighter than a virgin. The thought of sweet, innocent Will, embracing his traditional role and saving his virginity for bonding makes Hannibal giddy, afraid to move or else lose control of himself to rut. He feels himself tip-toeing the verge, tempted by Will’s fever-sweet pheromones and slick insides, and is surprised he’s managed to stay sane for so long without it.
Will cranes his neck and smothers the feeling with a kiss, shoving his hips back into him while his massive tits push down onto the counter.
“I want your pups, Alpha. I want you to breed me full with your litter. Please. Will you do that for Mommy?” Will whispers, near-incomprehensible over the roar of arousal in Hannibal’s ears.
At that moment, Hannibal's mind fissures with rut and the single-minded urge to take and claim the hole beneath him, willing or not.
Hannibal slams Will down by his nape, chasing his pleasure with an unrelenting pace, and grips the soft pad of his belly where his uterus lies like a treasure waiting to be plundered. Hannibal’s need is cruel and selfish, with little regard for Will’s comfort, and Will, the perfect omega, just takes it.
Loud slaps of flesh hitting against one another fill the room. Will’s slick squirts out in wet squelching noises, his pathetic little mewls and cries accelerating Hannibal’s thrusts to a frenzied, animalistic pounding.
“Oh fuck, oh, ah, Alpha, Alpha, please—“ Will keens, neck bent at an awkward position. “B… bite me. I need you to bite me. I’ll die if you don’t!” he sobs wildly, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I can’t take being alone anymore!”
Hannibal’s lips curl back in a snarl. His teeth ache with the urge to tear open Will’s flesh and find solace in his guts.
Will is the first to come with a howl. The second Hannibal's teeth pierce their mark against the gland in his nape, his entire body seizes and jerks, eyes rolling back.
The flood of Will’s burst mating gland carries his knot straight into Will’s womb, locking them in place. Every twitch and quiver from Will below him triggers another gush of cum into his swollen belly. Still, Hannibal tries to fuck him through it, shoving his knot impossibly deep, then back, testing the limits of Will’s hole.
Will babbles something incoherently, high on bonding pheromones. “Ah… Alpha… bonded… me?”
Hannibal relaxes his teeth and looks down finally to see Will’s bulging chest rocking up against the counter, creating puddles of milk, more of it jetting out alongside Will’s second and third orgasms.
Not wanting to let a single drop of Will’s breast milk go to waste, Hannibal carefully positions Will over the mugs of coffee that had been set aside for his uncle earlier and coaxes the rest of it out with his hands.
Will whines, cumming a fourth time around his knot from having his tits milked. Hannibal congratulates him with a deep thrust before licking at his bond mark.
*
Will howls in rage as he scrambles to re-adjust his clothes. “Do you even realize what you’ve just done!? I can’t be bonded to a… a, oh my god, you’re just a teenager…”
“Legally, I’m of age,” Hannibal reminds him, smoothing out his hair. “I’m seventeen, eighteen in another six months if we’re being precise. The age of consent in Alpha is sixteen. ”
Bruised and bitten in the aftermath of their rough mating, Will sags against the cabinets and cradles his head in his hands. “No, this is all my fault, I’m the one who seduced you. You would never have gone into rut if I hadn’t gone into heat first… but I was expecting your uncle, not…” Will moans and covers his mouth in horror. “I’ve never been wanted like that before. It felt good to be wanted—now I’ll be stuck playing babysitter for the rest of my life!“
“Look on the bright side, Will,” says Hannibal. “It only took you thirty-two years. Statistically, your chances of being bonded had already dwindled by the ages of 25-30.”
Will looks aghast. “Don’t you get it!? Bonds aren’t temporary tattoos. You’re stuck with me for life! I’m old enough to be your mother and you’re still in high school, for fucks sake, Hannibal, do you know what they’ll say?” Will shakes his head hysterically and scrubs the back of his nape. “… You’ve got serious mommy issues.”
Hannibal kneels in front of him, bumping their foreheads together in an intimate gesture. “You like it when I call you mommy. Just like you liked it when I watched you through the window.”
Every shameful secret of Will’s had been revealed to Hannibal the moment they’d bonded. Including his appetite for younger Alpha.
Hannibal smiles. “Aren’t we the perfect match?”
Will looks down, flustered.
Only later, with Will knelt obediently at his feet, does Hannibal learn that his uncle had not been present at all throughout their affair. He’d immediately rushed to the hospital after receiving an urgent call with news of the arrival of his first mate’s pup.
“Hannibal!” His uncle’s voice booms out, looking between the two of them in disbelief. “What in God’s name have you done!?”
“I may have acted a bit impulsively,” Hannibal admits, looking down at the white contents of his mug and taking a generous swig.