Hannibal waits a day to call Will with the bad news.
“I’m afraid Wednesday doesn’t work any longer.”
The omega’s breath catches and Hannibal smiles. “When?”
“Tomorrow?”
There is a pause and Will breathes out before he responds. Hannibal can still smell his slick in the air of his office and cannot wait to have the lovely fragrance of their joining in his bed.
“Okay. Where is your house?”
He gives the address and adds, “My apologies, Will. It could not be avoided.”
“It’s ok. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Hannibal licks his lips. “Yes. Have a good evening.”
“You too.”
There is no unavoidable reason why he couldn’t see Will Wednesday, of course, or even Friday. He knows now that with the new added element Will won’t have a choice in his want of seeing him.
Will is pregnant with his child. He’d thought so after they’d finished the first time but it was the second where he’d known for sure. His true mate was even more fertile than Hannibal had expected and the jubilation that his impending fatherhood brings seems unending. He makes lists of names, mostly historical figures and gods, and wonders if Will could possibly be carrying multiples.
The statistical probability of that is rather low but Hannibal allows himself to indulge in the possibility for the rest of the evening while he orders a crib and nursery items. He hopes Will is not against black and white.
Appointments for the next day are set to end early so Hannibal can prepare his and Will’s meal, and he is so eager he hardly pays much attention to his patients until the last.
Franklyn Froideveaux is the stereotypical omegan, skittish and weepy at most of their sessions while desperate in others. He wants Hannibal, has since they’d first met, and while the idea was once an amusement Hannibal finds himself annoyed when the Omega’s crush involves his mate.
“Your mate must be pretty territorial,” Franklyn mutters, his deep inhale of breath something Hannibal can’t help but notice.
“Mate?”
“Your office has smelled like him since he burst in here,” Franklyn says, “That was him, wasn’t it? The one with the–”
Hannibal leans forward and his nails dig into the leather of the chair. “You will refrain from the rest of that sentence if you know what’s good for you, Mr. Froideveaux. I will not tolerate it. As a matter of fact, I believe it’s time for you to get a referral.”
Franklyn cries out, “But YOU were a referral! I wasn’t…I didn’t mean to–”
Hannibal stands and walks to his desk, ignores the calls from the omega who stops just short of begging in front of him. He writes the referral and pushes it across the desk.
“Good day, Franklyn.”
He wants to snap the man’s neck when crocodile tears start to spill down his cheeks.
“I’m sorry, can we just–”
“Good day.”
Hannibal waits till Franklyn leaves to grab his scalpel and stab it into the desk. His hands shake as he tries to calm, the need to express his instincts high until he hears the ringing of his cell phone.
The name makes him relax at once and a smile overtakes his features even before a word is spoken.
“Hello, Will.”
“Hi,” Will says, “I was just making sure that–”
“Yes, my schedule is entirely clear for you and our meal. The time and location have not changed.”
He hears Will’s sigh of relief and the warmth that fills him is immense.
“I’ll see you then.”
“Yes, see you then.”
The rising instincts to posture, to take his omega forcefully and truly become mates is suddenly all he can think about. He puts his hands on the desk and closes his eyes, imagines Will loving him openly and accepting their union without fear.
That is what drives the rest of his mission, throughout his preparation of the meal, his home and himself. The latter he decides to work on last, the time from when Will arrives far enough off that he can before then make the rest of the elements of this night perfect first. He’s got the food warm in the oven and he’s just put the finishing touch on the table settings when the doorbell rings.
Hannibal freezes with his hand on the flowers and checks the clock.
It can’t be Will as there is still half an hour before the time he gave.
He looks down at his apron, the mess of their meal on the front of it and his forearms are exposed to keep the mess from his clothing. The alpha feels annoyance fill him as he stomps through the house to answer the door.
There is no one who would even be here for he’s told most of his acquaintances he’s out of town for the rest of the week. He throws open the door only to be hit with the scent of the one person it shouldn’t be.
“Will,” he breathes, “You’re early.”
Will is wearing a dress shirt with no tie, open coat, and the amount of sweat on his brow is worse than the night before. “I’m sorry, I just…I can wait in the car.”
Hannibal notices that Will’s gaze lingers on the open neck of his shirt and bare forearms.
“It is perfectly alright, I just was not prepared. Please come inside.”
He moves out of the way and Will enters. The omega shivers and inhales the scent of Hannibal’s home, no doubt both comforted and aroused with so much of his alpha in the air.
“You look very nice.”
Will scoffs and takes off his glasses, putting them in his front left pocket. “I didn’t know what to wear.”
“You could have worn something that made you more comfortable, if you’d liked.”
Will walks through the front foyer and his eyes roam all over. “This is different than I expected.”
“Good or bad?”
“I’ll let you know.”
CONTINUED in:
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