They had just finished a satisfying dinner, and Will remained at the table while Hannibal cleared their plates. He had offered to help, but Hannibal had insisted that he stay put. It hardly seemed fair after Hannibal had outdone himself on the dinner, but Will wasn’t going to argue. Instead, he leisurely finished the last of his wine.
Presently, Hannibal returned with two slices of a magnificent cake he had just made that afternoon. Will could count four layers, each one separated with a thin layer of chocolate icing laced with caramel. The cake and the plate were drizzled with cherry sauce in an intricate pattern.
Hannibal took his own seat again, but didn’t immediately pick up his fork. Instead, he said, “I have a proposal to make.”
Will paused in cutting into his own cake. “Oh?”
Hannibal produced a small velvet box and opened it. Inside was a ring of gold, rough hammered in the center of the band and polished to a shine around the edges.
Will’s eyebrows rose, and his fork hit the plate. “You meant that literally.”
“You are the love of my life, Will,” Hannibal said simply. “You could give me no greater joy than by saying yes and giving me that satisfaction of truly calling you my husband.”
“We’re already married,” Will said. “Or, our aliases are.” Even so, he couldn’t help the way his heart jumped at the notion.
Hannibal nodded. “Our lives are irrevocably joined, and we are already married in every sense of the word. But not as ourselves.” Hannibal bit his lip, then said, “Molly had your marriage annulled six months ago. You are legally able now.”
“It’s the legally that’s a problem,” Will said. “No one is going to marry Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham.”
Hannibal smiled a Cheshire cat grin. “While you have been selecting those we kill, as per our agreement, I have a selection to put forth. I’ve located a priest, a habitual child molester. I think you shall have no objections.”
Will saw Hannibal’s design like it was his own. Force the priest to marry them, and then kill him afterward. Leave his body as a testament to his crimes and as a celebration of their union.
Will smiled, slow and true. He met Hannibal’s eyes and saw nothing but pure anticipation there. As if there could be any doubt of Will’s answer.
“Yes.”
With that one word from Will, Hannibal’s face lit up with happiness.
Will smiled, feeling happier than he knew he could. He thought he’d had everything already, but now he knew he’d been mistaken.
Will reached for the box, a smile still on his lips. “When shall we set the date?”
“Whenever you prefer.”
Will licked his lips teasingly. “And honeymoon after?”
“Of course.”
Hannibal’s eyes darkened with desire. “Perhaps, since we are officially engaged, we should celebrate tonight.”
Will picked up his fork and took a bite of cake. He then held out another forkful to Hannibal, who ate it with pleasure.
“Perhaps we can finish dessert first,” Will said coolly, licking his lips again.
He opened his mouth as Hannibal took a turn, feeding him a piece.
“I agree,” Hannibal said. “Then after dessert, we’ll put the table to another use.”
“Did one of them steal the other’s woman?” Lancelot asked, predictably assuming that the trouble was to do with a bit of skirt.
“When was the last time you saw either of them with a woman?” Dagonet scoffed, rolling his eyes.
“Galahad had that tavern omega what told Lancelot to fuck off a couple of moons back,” Bors informed them, sniggering.
Gawain raised a brow at that one; even he hadn’t been aware Galahad had made a conquest.
“Little shit,” Lancelot said, an expression halfway between irritation and pride on his face.
“Long time though, two moons, and fuck knows how long since Tristan got his end away,” Bors continued. “Fucking celibate alpha, it ain’t right. Could be the pair of ‘em just need a bit of a rut, cheer them up a bit.”
The assembled knights turned their attention to the pair in question, currently engaged in a heated argument over Tristan’s bird and its propensity to land on Galahad’s head during target practice.
Not that such an argument was unusual between the two, but two things had changed recently:
First, rather than Galahad losing his temper every couple of weeks, it was now happening on a daily basis, and always with Tristan.
And second, Tristan had abandoned his usual Galahad-wrangling technique of meditative silence seasoned with the occasional barbed remark. Instead, he couldn’t seem to resist butting heads with the obstinate beta, even raising his voice for the first time any of the knights had ever known.
Case in point:
“Lay one hand on Isolde, pup, and I will hang you by your own bowstrings.” Tristan was looming over Galahad, closer than was strictly proper.
“I don’t need my hands. Next time she distracts me she’ll be getting my dagger,” Galahad snarled up at him, lifting his face towards Tristan until their noses nearly brushed. It would be almost indecent, Gawain thought, in a different context. Galahad was lucky that his beta senses wouldn’t be too bothered by the pheromones Tristan had to be giving out while posturing like that.
Something really had to be done, the knights agreed. And an idea of just what that something might be was forming in Gawain’s mind…
“Whoops, look out boys, time to separate them again,” Bors chortled, rising from his seat and moving in the direction of Tristan, who now had the beta in a headlock.
The subsequent wrestling match knocked Gawain’s clever idea out of his head until much later, when Tristan and Galahad had stormed off in opposite directions and the rest of the knights had made the sensible decision to get well and truly rat-arsed.
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Jagten | The Hunt (2012), Shooting Dogs (2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Joe Connor/Lucas (Jagten) Characters: Joe Connor, Lucas (Jagten) Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romance Series: Part 3 of Even Broken Things Deserve To Be Loved Summary:
In the wake of Joe’s return, things haven’t been quite right between himself and Lucas. A trip away could solve everything with their relationship.
As requested @hotsauce418 … some more LuConnor for you!
Nigel was taking a shower after a long night finishing a job with his mate, he let Will sleep longer, listening to him snoring in a deep sleep, “my omega” he said to himself.
Completely damp, he started to scrub his body and soap every part, he ached for him but Will needed to rest “omega” he sighed again. Nigel was about to rinse his body when the bathroom door opened, soft steps and the sound of clothes hitting the floor.
“Good morning beautiful ” Nigel said while the curtain was pulled back to let his lover into the steamy space. Manly but soft hands reached for him and began caressing the hair of his chest.
“Morning” Will replied in a raw voice, sleepy and stifling a yawn into Nigel’s back.
The sweet omega scent filled the space.
The omega barely touched him before starting to scrub his body, slim but muscular – perfect for Nigel – who started to feel his desire pooling in his stomach. The idea of taking him right there was consuming his mind.
Before he could turn to face his mate Nigel’s nose twitched, the smell of arousal hit him His omega, just behind him, started to touch himself – waiting for his alpha to notice.
“Are you okay darling?” Nigel asked, voice deep almost like a growl at hearing the soft noises of the omega’s hand stroking his wet length.
Nigel waited a couple of seconds, feeling his growing cock and enjoying the soft huffs at his back. Will’s voice came out in a purr “Alpha, knot me”
The last thread of control inside the alpha broke.
Instinct overtook Nigel’s body, willing him to experience the soft and tight feel of Will. A quick turn and he sank his teeth in the bare skin, Will whimpering at the touch and rubbing his ass to the aching cock of his mate.
“I’ve been waiting for this since yesterday Nigel…” Will was showing his teeth, anxious.
Without warning, Nigel lined himself up with the soft and tight entrance and pushed half of his length inside. Will’s moan echoed in the bathroom.
“I needed you well rested to do this darling” The other half of Nigel’s cock pushed in deep, finishing in a hug, his strong hands wrapping the smaller body, protective.
Pleasure was mirrored in their expressions as they joined in a frenetic rocking of thrusts and sloppy kisses, Nigel’s knot started to swell and push against the sweet ring of muscle of his lover. The one who was baring his neck for him, fiercely amenable showing his teeth in pleasure shouting with each thrust.
Will’s noises were driving Nigel to the edge, and suddenly the word in his mind “omega” changed and changed to “love”. Panting, the bigger man sunk his hands to the soft skin of Wills hips and knotted him with the deepest kiss they’d had in days. It choked the high pitched cry that came from Will – coming untouched – followed by the deep growl of Nigel filling him.
A good rinse and only one towel between them, they cuddled on the bed until they were dry and ready to start the day.
They would regret it someday, not now, but someday recording that so-important-moment in their lives would be a bad idea.
Bonding was the pinnacle of a single life, a bite that sealed the starting point of a new life as a pair. It was something that was hardly reversible. It was painful, agonizing, and could be lethal if they tried to undo it.
And Hannibal wanted to record it, because a visible mark on his neck was not enough, or so Will thought when the omega first mentioned the idea of capturing that intimate moment.
Will watched how Hannibal settled the camera over their dresser, he was sweating, shaking a little. Hannibal had woken up that morning feeling different, a little ill, his body showing him the first symptoms of an upcoming heat.
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