The hot water wasn't working. Will was standing stark naked in the equally stark bathroom of the no-star hotel he was crashing at for the night, one arm thrust between the wall and curtain to judge the temperature. The tap was turned all the way to hot but the water that was pummeling down onto his skin was lukewarm at best.

Resentment and bitterness cycled through him as he stared at the thin white towel he was using for a bathmat.

His introduction to Dr. Lecter had been less than ideal. Why couldn't he keep it together? Sure, the man happened to be heavily – and heavenly – fragranced but that didn't mean he had to snap at him, especially when he was trying to help. Something about not biting the hand that feeds came to mind. Being short with his boss probably wasn't the smartest move either. The way he behaved, he was lucky that he wasn't being suspended. The thought squirmed like a worm in his stomach.

Jack was the last of his worries though, for it seemed that his body had gone into a state of permanent semi-arousal ever since getting the first lungful of the Alpha's scent. Apparently his libido wasn't satisfied with him merely thinking about the Alpha every moment since he had absconded from Crawford's office, but was determined to keep his body responding until he stopped thinking...or gave it what it wanted.

Heat was still prickling through him, trailing down from his scalp to his fingertips and making each nerve overly sensitive. On top of that, that damned curling cord in his belly wouldn't stop aching and gave a pathetic twang every time he thought about Dr. Lecter's chiseled bone structure or those long legs.

Will groaned and raised his free hand to ruffle his hair, an unconscious move to comfort himself. Hannibal's scent – yes, Hannibal's, not professional, polite Dr. Lecter but Alpha Hannibal's scent – suddenly flew up into his nostrils, a little faded but still incredibly potent.

The Omega's eyes immediately rolled in his head and his body shivered with desire under the bathroom's harsh fluorescent lights. He realized the Alpha's pheromones were still all over his hand from when they shook and he had just rubbed the medley into his hair. The rational part of him - a part that seemed microscopic at the moment - wanted to be angry at his body's blatant response to the musky, spicy scent. It comforted his arguing mind like a soothing salve. It proved impossible though; what he felt was the thrill of having such a powerful Alpha's scent on him, in his hair, on his skin. It was intoxicating and he wanted more. Wanted it inside him.

The breath of the antlered beast was hot on his face now.

A strangled whimper tore from his throat. He pressed his hand against his nose and open mouth and inhaled deeply, feeling it on his tongue. Hannibal's aroma invaded his body like a storm, releasing endorphins and introducing a high that was better than any drug. With glazed eyes and a desperation that surprised him Will yanked his arm out of the shower and palmed his growing erection, keeping the hand smeared with Hannibal's scent pressed to his face. His hips bucked into his dripping hand and he cried out at just how fucking good it felt, ignoring the way his voice echoed hollowly in the small bathroom. How long had it been since he had touched himself? His past hadn't allowed for much self-love. He had been too busy masking his nature to give in to such basic pleasures but in the shadow of an Alpha such as Hannibal…well, it seemed his natural biology was trying to make up for lost time.

Forgetting the shower completely he turned and braced himself over the toilet, his body humming and jerking as his self-ministrations became frantic and lost their rhythm. Gasping at the electric jolts shooting through him, he moaned as Hannibal's face flashed in front of his eyes like a negative exposure. Will imagined his eyes would be almost black with blown pupils and those sculpted lips parted in reverence as he watched the Omega pleasure himself.

"That's it, Will. Good boy."

Will's ass was abruptly drenched in slick. A choked whine burst from him as Hannibal's throaty voice sounded in his mind's ear, his warm breath tickling his earlobe, close as sin. All he wanted was to please him and the Omega within him preened; he wanted Hannibal's teeth in his shoulder and his strong hands grasping his hips from behind. He wanted to feel his own hot blood roll down his chest.

The intensity built until he couldn't breathe and with a fierce shudder he climaxed into his hand, clenching his eyes shut and feeling his knees shake with the effort of holding himself up. He pressed his forehead against the cool tile of the wall and shook as he let the orgasm rip through him, unable to stop the mewling whimpers that fell from his lips. Wave after wave of paralyzing bliss scoured his body until he was panting with sweat streaming down his neck and slick dripping down his thighs. His own sugary Omegan scent filled the washroom as if he had suddenly turned it into an orchid nursery; humid and sickly sweet.

With the peaceful relaxation loosening his muscles, a frustration began bleeding into his system as well. It made him grit his teeth and curl his lip despite the pleasure that was still pulsing through him.

Damn that fucking Alpha.

He thought he had it under control. Wasn't he doing alright? The pills had been working great – aside from the occasional bout of nausea no one had bothered him in years. Now it had been abruptly flipped around and he was the one reacting as though he had just presented, beating one off at the mere scent of an Alpha that happened to smell especially delicious. It was ridiculous and Will angrily scolded himself.

After a few moments the sound of water hitting the bottom of the tub became audible again as if he were slowly turning up the volume. He let it fill his brain for a while as he caught his breath. Then, shaking, he turned his head and barked a breathless curse as he reached back in and tested the water. It was freezing.

Sleep came easily that night. It was unusually generous in its blessing of six hours straight; normally Will couldn't even boast four. Natural insomnia mixed with his pills tended to keep unconsciousness at bay. For the most part he also slept like shit in hotel beds – couldn't stop thinking about how many people had slept in them before him or other unpleasant things they might have done – but after he had abandoned his idea of a shower he fell on top of the faded pink comforter and burrowed his face into a pillow with sleep hot on his heels. It probably had something to do with the fact that he hadn't experienced an orgasm in close to two years, and for the first time in a long time he forgot to take his usual dose of scent suppressors before bed.

Slumber also came with feverish dreams involving Hannibal. The otherworldly realm was dark and fluid, creating ever-morphing shapes of a huge stag that Will somehow knew was the Alpha. It walked up close to him, breathing tendrils of smoke that didn't dissipate in the shadows. Inky eyes seemed not to see Will but pierce him. Its presence was threatening and comforting at the same time, promising violent pleasures in which to drown him. He was thigh-deep in warm, thick blood that flowed around him. Its edges were lost to the darkness…a river of blood to hunt in. The gentle splashing of his steps faded as he waded further and deeper out into the red expanse under an endless sky with no stars.

XXX

The lingering notes of Andrea Bocelli's 'Con te Partiro' filled Hannibal's kitchen, along with the savory aroma of simmering onions and garlic. Glistening appliances and dark granite complimented each other in the large area, reflecting the psychiatrist's refined style and taste for luxury. The spread of ingredients around him mirrored their surroundings; exotic, sumptuous, and lavish.

Over two dozen quail eggs nested in a glass dish surrounded by cuts of fresh thyme and oregano. They had been delivered that morning and carefully washed. Plump lemons and pomegranates added a zest of color against the black-veined countertop, with one of the latter split in half to reveal the many succulent treasures embedded within. Various fresh vegetables filled the gaps; some already prepared and waiting in dishes such as green onions, finely diced red and yellow peppers, and beautiful black trumpet mushrooms. A thick wedge of sharp pecorino sat atop a metal grater, waiting patiently to be shredded. Its neighbor, a dense loaf of black pumpernickel, was gently folded in white linen with a small ramekin of whipped cream cheese by its side.

The man himself moved fluidly and gracefully, the very picture of control and skill as he manipulated the food around him into art. Underneath the white rolled sleeves of his collared shirt the muscles of his forearms were easily visible as they flexed under sun-brushed skin, a taste of the power that lay dormant in the rest of him. It could be glimpsed in the brief twist of his torso or the momentary tightness of the muscles in his throat. The man was a carefully wrapped weapon in expensive clothes.

Each kitchen implement, knives in particular, were an extension of his body. The Alpha quietly reveled in his ability to shape the world around him with such simple tools; he had been doing it for years, carving it into something more…aesthetic. His palette had been a spectrum of media used to implement his designs including kitchen knives (Japanese of course), various scalpels, and higonokami pocket knives which he was especially partial to. If the opportunity happened to present itself where he needed to be resourceful then anything was possible. Adaptation was a skill he reveled in and it was amazingly useful in the implementation of creativity. He once killed a man by strangling him with his own intestines.

A satisfied smirk played around his bowed lips as he retrieved a plump liver from the fridge where it had been resting in a bowl of milk. The wine-colored organ was slick in his hands but he handled it adeptly and carefully laid it into a pan of melted, slightly bubbling butter on the stove.

Deep primal pleasure hunkered inside him at the thought of feeding that fascinating Omega, Will Graham. From a young age Hannibal had been skilled at controlling his Alpha instincts, learning exactly what triggered them and using willpower alone to avoid any embarrassing or awkward situations. He had years of practice. Pharmaceuticals and scent suppressors were out of the question; he considered his body a temple and ensured no unnecessary drugs or chemicals entered his system. Many Alphas used them so that they were unable to detect certain pheromones but Hannibal had sculpted his natural drives so rigorously that even coming into contact with fully scented Omegas was possible without reacting.

This Omega was different, though. Ever since Will stepped into his presence he had been captivated and he wasn't sure what had stunned him more; his captivation or the fact that he was captivated. No one had evicted a response in him like that before and it startled him at how easily the man had slipped under his defenses.

Will Graham had the look of a drawn, sullen, and pale man that had forgotten the warmth of sunlight. He also looked like he hadn't had a good meal in days, maybe weeks, and carried himself like he was afraid to be noticed. His stiff posture and averting eyes were telltale signs as well as those repulsive scent suppressors. The natural Omega scent that should have been rolling from his skin like smoke from a bonfire had been quashed to near-Beta levels but Hannibal's sensitive nose had picked up traces of crisp pine and cold, fresh water flowing through a winter forest. It was positively magnetic and the Alpha felt his mouth water, a natural reaction to better taste the scent in the air. Even the suppressed pheromones had gently tugged at his sensibilities and for one brief moment he was amazed to feel his body move towards him as if to offer comfort or protection. Luckily he had proffered his hand in time to hide the impulsive action but the fact remained that he had been rattled for the first time in a long time, and that in itself was unnerving.

The same icy water that flowed under his skin was mirrored in Will's eyes. Riveting eyes, Hannibal reflected as a small surge of approval pitched in his chest as he remembered how strikingly blue they had been when they had flashed up angrily at him in Jack's office.

He wanted to offer the Omega fresh quality food that would sustain his body, and the image of Will eating his fastidiously prepared meal, human flesh and all, filled the Alpha with dark satisfaction. It was also the perfect excuse to have a proper conversation with the man without being under the watchful eye of Jack Crawford. Normally he wouldn't invest this much interest in an Omega but this one had somehow chosen a career that dealt with violence and horror on a daily basis, an almost impossible thought for such a sensitive and caring gender. There must be something hiding underneath the skin and Hannibal was all but delighted to dig it out.

As the last wavering note sounded from Bocelli's impressive pipes the Alpha began cracking quail eggs with a veiled smile.

XXX

A strong hand grasped Will by the arm and pulled him from the ocean of blood he was drowning in.

Gasping, he was snatched from slumber and fully expected to be drenched in red. Looking down he was surprised to see nothing more than the tangled sheets around his waist and legs, faded white but otherwise devoid of gore. He realized he was shaking and his head was pounding; he felt sick. Perhaps he had been dreaming of drowning because he was covered in a sheen of sweat that bled out into the sheets around him.

For a moment he merely sat and caught his breath, trying to dispel the feeling of blood in his lungs when the quiet morning air of his dingy hotel room was broken by the sound of knocking.

Will glanced at the clock on the bedside table that read 7:23am in glowing red. Yeah, no way. He wasn't going to rush for someone this early in the morning. Whoever it was could damn well wait, especially when he was feeling like shit. Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, he doubled over as a wave of nausea flowed down from the pain pulsing in his brain. A broken sound of distress flew unbidden from him as he cradled his abdomen.

That's when the scent hit him. Will snapped his face up towards the door, blue eyes widening in shock. It was definitely Hannibal again. The smell of sweet whiskey and warmth was drifting through the cracks around the door, strong as ever and demanding to be acknowledged. It soothed his pounding head and cradled him like a lover, making him want to close his eyes and breathe it in until he knew nothing else. Twisting around him, it drew him up from the bed and forced him to step forward.

Growling, Will dug his heels into the shabby carpet. Fuck that. He wasn't some goddamn marionette for Hannibal to control, although his body was begging the opposite. No, he was an adult man with his own life and priorities and plus, he was still completely naked.

The knowledge seemed to have suddenly turned on his senses for his next breath brought with it the other smells in the air and a flush immediately rose in his face.

His room was humid with Omega pheromones. They were oozing from his skin, free of the suppressant and returning with a vengeance. It also didn't help that he hadn't managed to shower the night before; a medley of bodily scents were clinging to him, a little stale but blatantly obvious as to what he had been up to a few hours previous. Dried slick coated the insides of his thighs and was smeared into the bed sheets. Its sweetness still hung in the air, faded but painfully recognizable.

Grimacing and groaning with embarrassment, Will took as long as possible in finding a fresh shirt and boxers, fighting his whining Omegan instincts that were pleading with him to hurry to the door and fling it open. It was only when he decided against donning a full four-layer suit complete with tie and amenities that he finally obeyed his shaking body and moved to the entrance. The Alpha's scent collided with him through the thin wood and he struggled not to let a pleading whimper escape him.

His fingers were clumsy as he unlocked the door. When it opened a stream of brilliant orange sunlight pierced his vision and for a moment he merely stood blinking like a newborn thing.

Hannibal's scent washed over him like a warm fog and threatened to steal the stability from the Omega's knees.

"Good morning, Will. May I come in?"