Chapter Text
"Fuck, gorgeous, why'd I let you talk me into getting on this fucking boat?"
Will arches a brow, looking up and smiling when he sees Nigel grimacing down at his shoes, which are caked with stagnant water that lipped its way over the edge, as well as spilled brine, and the fish guts where Duncan is dutifully gutting every fish Will catches before packing it in the cooler to take home.
"Because you want to get your dick wet later," Will tells him without missing a beat. Nigel blinks at him, and then grins, lopsided and showing his teeth. He prowls over to where Will is sitting, feet propped up on top of the coils of extra rope, relaxing against the side of the boat, his fishing rod held laxly, line dangling over the side waiting for the next bite.
Nigel leans down and cups Will's face, licking into his mouth. He tastes like the cigarette he just had at the bow, fingers holding the cling of smoke as he slides them into the hair at the nape of Will's neck, holding him still, as though Will has any desire to pull away from one of his Alphas' kisses.
Will purrs for him. Out of all of his Alphas, Nigel is the most sensitive to sound. His smile widens, lashes low as Nigel knees his way onto the bench beside Will, making him sit up a little straighter to make room for Nigel's strong arm as it wraps behind his shoulders and settles on the side at Will's back.
"Could always get started early," Nigel growls into his ear, making Will shiver, fingers tightening around the end of his fishing rod. "No reason you can't sit on my knot instead of this bench."
Will rolls his eyes, but happily curls up in Nigel's embrace. "Won't catch any more fish if you start rocking the boat," he replies. "And you're loud."
Duncan grunts, in agreement, from his perch. Nigel glares at Duncan, good-natured but warning, and the older Alpha doesn't make another sound. Not because he submits to Nigel, but because Duncan isn't exactly the most talkative man and likes conversations to be monosyllabic and short. Hannibal is the only one who's able to get more than ten words at a time out of him, when he's feeling chatty.
Will turns his head and nuzzles Nigel, licks over the tattoo on the side of his neck and puts his nose beneath Nigel's jaw in a placative gesture. "Just need one more," he promises. "Then we can go home."
Duncan stands, closing the cooler, the three fish Will has already caught packed away and ready for transport. He goes to the large jug of water nearby, the kind used for water coolers in offices, and dumps water over his hands to clean them, before he dries his hands off on a cloth. The day is cold, and Duncan's black turtleneck stretches tight over his broad shoulders and thick chest, drawing Will's eye to the strength and muscle. He bites the inside of his lower lip, the sight combined with Nigel's scent and petting hand making warmth gather low in his stomach.
Nigel grins, in his periphery, dark eyes flashing, smug. He curls his fingers in Will's hair, blunt nails scraping over the sensitive nape of his neck. Unbidden, a whine escapes Will, drawing both of the Alphas' attention.
"Stop it," he protests, only half-meaning it. Nigel's smile merely widens, the smug bastard. Will swallows harshly as Nigel leans in and kisses beneath Will's ear, tugging him closer under Nigel's arm.
"Nigel," Duncan rumbles. "The sooner Will's done the sooner we can go back."
Nigel huffs, but relents, parting from Will with one last kiss to his hair. Will smiles at them both, and Duncan takes Nigel by the shoulder and leads him to the back of the boat. Probably for another smoke break. How Hannibal deals with the smell all the time, with his oversensitive nose, Will has no idea.
He sighs, and settles. A few minutes later, he feels a telltale snag on the line, and grins, sitting forward. He plants his feet on the floor and rises, reeling the line in slowly to make sure the hook is caught. When he feels the resistance of something fighting against the pull, he lifts the tip of the rod and reels in more purposefully, hauling the last fish out of the water with a small grunt.
It's a good size, and he's glad he isn't going to have to toss it back. Since Duncan is still gone, he takes the fish to the dirty bench himself and guts it with quick, skilled movements, before placing it with the rest.
"Alright," he calls. "We're all done here."
"Fuck yeah," he hears Nigel say, emphatic and relieved. He rolls his eyes and smiles to himself. Nigel hates being out on the water – he doesn't trust something like a boat to keep him as secure as dry land, and Will is pretty sure he's not the strongest swimmer. Any offer to teach him is met with a warning glower. Not like the water this time of year is particularly pleasant.
Nigel gets to him first, kissing Will with the taste of another fresh cigarette on his tongue. Will purrs loudly, smiling, and nudges him away so he can give Duncan a kiss as well. He washes his hands, feeling their eyes on him.
He looks up, arching a brow. "Let's go home," he prompts, and smiles when they both immediately leap into action, more than eager to return to the cabin where Hannibal is waiting, with the promise of a fresh-caught dinner on the horizon.
Will Graham might be the only Omega in the world in a functional, committed relationship with three Alphas. He attracts a certain type, he supposes. Loyal, passionate, protective. Men who have absolutely no qualms about killing, either in defense or for the sheer pleasure of it.
Hannibal was the first. They met in Baltimore, when Will still worked for the FBI. Will knew from the moment he saw Hannibal that there was something dangerous about him, hidden behind those fancy suits and mild manner. A beast, a monster that prowled in the darkness and saw itself in Will. Something that Will could coax closer, with sweet words and pliant overtures, that Will could turn on and make snap, forcing it to reveal itself.
He still remembers the look on Hannibal's face, the first time Will had brought a body to his table. The pride, the lust turning his irises red. The way Hannibal had cornered him, still holding onto his control by the skin of his teeth, pretending he had to play coy. Pretending he didn't know that Will knew.
Hannibal's mating bite is a deep, deep scar on the nape of Will's neck, savage, threatening. Will's hair can hide it most of the time, but all he needs to do it put his hand on the back of his neck, drawing Hannibal's attention, to make him snarl.
When the walls were closing in and Will grew bored of playing both sides, they'd packed up and headed North, to a remote cabin where they could plan their next steps. Leaving the country. Will hadn't particularly cared where they went. They had only one neighbor across the lake, a single, older Alpha only visible at night by the cherry red of his cigarette and the quick flare of his lighter.
Will isn't sure what possessed him to go visit, one night. Perhaps some instinct in him, as a wolf might know the scent of its own kind on the wind. Duncan is silent and scarred, deadly and efficient. Will has seen him slaughter a roomful of men with only his bare hands and his teeth.
The proximity of two incredibly compatible Alphas had sent Will into heat. While Hannibal is perfectly capable of servicing Will on his own, Duncan had caught the scent and come hunting, his remaining eye a gorgeous red Will still loves the sight of whenever he sees it. He'd expected Hannibal to simply kill the threat to his claim on Will.
He hadn't.
Hannibal's sense of possessiveness is…complicated. What Will hadn't realized until much later is that it begins and ends with Will's consent. If Will wants two Alphas, he's going to get two Alphas. He has enough holes and hands, after all, it's not like they need to fight over shoving their knots somewhere warm and wet when they want to.
And Duncan is worldly, well-traveled, like Hannibal. Deadly, like Hannibal. Of a certain caliber, like Hannibal. Will likes to think Hannibal sensed the same instinctive pull to him as Will did, his inner monster blinking curiously as this thing that looked so much like itself. It helps that Duncan also doesn't share the boorish, posturing behavior normal Alphas do. Maybe it's because of his age, or his solitary lifestyle. While they were living on the lake, he would come over when Will asked for him and went away when Will told him to go. Sometimes Will would send Hannibal, just to see if Hannibal would go. He always did, smiling and kissing Will, a hand over the scar at the nape of his neck, promising to return, that they would both take care of him and do whatever Will asked.
Duncan's mating mark is on the inside of Will's thigh, comparatively tender. A love bite in contrast to the deep, savage mark Hannibal left on Will. Duncan is, at his core, a sentinel, a guardian. He is one of those big cats, content with a big patch of sunlight and plentiful food and a willing mate to keep him warm at night. He didn't own much, his cabin relatively sparse, but he eagerly brought Will blankets for his nest and pretty things from his adventures, courting him with gifts and time spent.
Will is not cruel to Duncan, not like he is with Hannibal. Hannibal breathes, lives, and dies on Will's regard. Duncan is a more independent kind of animal, that simply wants to be wanted. Will always makes sure to touch him, no matter what they're doing. Duncan is one of the most touch-starved Alphas Will has ever met.
When a group had come for Duncan, sent to kill him because of some bullshit drama with his employer as he neared retirement, Will and Hannibal had helped him with the slaughter. Then, with hunting down his employer and razing the entire enterprise to the ground. Will still thinks of that night fondly, how beautiful both his Alphas were, drenched in blood, panting, red-eyed. How they'd shared their kills raw, and mounted Will over the bodies, flooding his ass and mouth with their come as Will had whimpered and begged them for more, teeth and ass clenched tight around their knots while they'd pet his hair and thighs, praised him, told him how beautiful, deadly, and worthy he was.
Of course, with such a spectacle as that, they'd had to move on quickly.
Will met Nigel last, while they were in Bucharest. His swagger and cocky behavior reminded Will of Alphas back home, when he was younger. The kinds of men who would offer drugs for a blowjob and had no problem fucking a sweet little thing over whatever surface was available if they fluttered their lashes just right. He was easy to lure, and bruised Will with his big hands, breathed smoke into his mouth in a way that made Hannibal's nose wrinkle in complaint when Will had come home that night.
Nigel isn't a beast like Hannibal and Duncan, but he's just as monstrous. A different kind, some slight tangent in the evolution, but recognizable when his hackles rise and he bares his teeth. Will had pegged him as someone to take for a spin, but ultimately not the kind one brings home to mama. Definitely not the kind of Alpha Will should bring to his other two, in the hopes that they might be able to deal with Nigel's loud, cocky personality. The way he moves a little too much, a little too wide. His filthy mouth that Will was sure would offend. Hannibal and Duncan are beasts of worship, Nigel a creature of filth.
Though Will wanted him, he didn't let himself think of Nigel as permanent.
So, when Hannibal found Nigel and invited him to dinner, Will had been sure it was to kill him. But Hannibal was delighted by Nigel's foul mouth, how easy it was to get him riled up. How hair-trigger his aggression was - is. Will gets the feeling Hannibal regards Nigel as some entertaining deviance, and, as he had with Duncan, he'd said if Nigel made Will happy, then Hannibal could adapt to him as well.
Duncan, in his typical eloquent fashion, had simply grunted and bonded with Nigel over cigarettes and vodka and fond reminiscence over their shared disdain for Russian drug lords. They're quite close, now, really. Will feels like once Nigel gets older, he'll become much more like Duncan. He looks up to the older Alpha, in his insistently not hero worship kind of way. After all, Duncan is much more experienced at clearing a room than any of them, especially good at thinking on his feet, and Will knows that appeals to someone like Nigel, who has a habit of getting himself into trouble he either has to fight or talk his way out of.
Usually it ends up in a fight. Will likes that Nigel brings him along to those. He uses Will's sharp eyes and sharper tongue to get people on the defensive. He uses Will as an excuse to start a fight. He gasps and moans and begs Will to come whenever Will rides him. He's obsessive and aggressive and Will likes having an excuse to embrace the need to just fight something when he wants to.
Nigel's mating bite is on Will's hip. The line of his uneven teeth circles the jut of bone and it had hurt so good when he placed it.
With Hannibal, he burns. They talk about everything. They wander each other's mental spaces and Will can feel it when Hannibal looks at him, down to his bones. Hannibal's Voice echoes in Will's skull, even when he's not using it. Will submits happily to Hannibal's attempts at manipulation, knowing that he need merely ask, and Hannibal will give him whatever he desires.
With Duncan, he's warm and settled. Duncan's presence is like a weighted blanket on his fevered mind, a warm embrace on a cold night. His silence, his quiet and steadfast loyalty makes Will's throat tight whenever he thinks about it. They have spent entire evenings together just in silence, sharing whiskey and the warmth of a fire. Yet, Will need only tilt his head and bite his lower lip, need only whine, for Duncan to be on his feet and moving towards him.
With Nigel, Will can embrace his more destructive desires when they rise. Nigel is the one he grabs and kisses until his eyes go red, until Nigel is pawing at him and panting, trying to corner him against something flat enough to fuck against. And when Will puts a gun in his hands and says, "Let's get into trouble," Nigel is all too happy to follow wherever Will leads.
Having two Alphas is practically unheard of. Having three is damn near impossible. Having three like Hannibal, Duncan, and Nigel? All of them not only content to share, but genuinely enjoying each other's company? Well, Will doesn't believe in fate so much as luck, and he's more than willing to admit he's the luckiest Omega in the world.
They're in Spain, now, and live in the mountains near a small fishing village. Hannibal and Duncan speak the language the best, though Will and Nigel are learning and can communicate relatively well, if the conversation remains straightforward. Hannibal purchased a spot on a private dock for Will's boat, and they sail there and tie it to the posts in practiced sync. Duncan carries the cooler while Will and Nigel tie the boat in place and then haul the rest of their gear along behind him.
It's a twenty-minute walk uphill to their house, and about half a mile from the front door, Will can smell dinner drifting down, rosemary and lemon and fresh wild greens settling like smoke in the back of his mouth. They quicken their pace, all of them panting by the time he and Nigel set down the equipment outside, to clean and organize later, and Duncan leads the way in with the large cooler of fish.
The house opens immediately to the main room, open plan to accommodate Duncan's request that there be as few blind spots as possible. The floor is brown tile, the walls a soft, sandy color, the ceiling high. There is a half wall separating the main room from the kitchen. Will gravitates there immediately, and smiles when he finds Hannibal in front of the stove, clad in his normal expensive suit pants and a white button-down shirt spread over his shoulders.
He looks up, smiling warmly at Will as Will approaches, tucking his chin over Hannibal's shoulder, letting their cheeks brush. Hannibal's chest rumbles with a loud purr when Will wraps his arms around him from behind. "Hello, my love," he murmurs, lashes low over his dark eyes when Will kisses the side of his neck. "How was the water?"
"Good," Will replies, idly rubbing his thumb across the middle of Hannibal's belly. He breathes in when Hannibal does, both of them syncing up immediately after being mated for so long. "Caught enough fish for us. Do you want to use them tonight, or should I freeze them?"
Hannibal's lips purse in thought. He turns the flame down so the boiling stock in a pot in front of him calms to a simmer, and pulls Will around so that they stand facing each other, the oven at their sides. Will laughs when Hannibal kisses him, with a huff of complaint for the lingering taste of smoke in his mouth, but still eager. He cups Will's neck and Will shivers at the brush of his warm fingers over the mating scar.
"Freeze them, if you would," he murmurs, resting their foreheads together. His thumbs rub over the hinge of Will's jaw, making Will hum and settle, comforted by his mate's scent. "Dinner will be ready shortly."
Will nods, and kisses him one more time before he moves away, collecting the cooler and heading out to the garage to pack the fish into their outdoor freezer. Nigel is there, he keeps his weapons in the garage. Duncan claims he does as well, but Will is certain he has a gun or other weapon hidden in every room of the house.
Nigel grins at him when Will is done, washing his hands in the small sink in the garage. "Hey, gorgeous, c'mere," he purrs. Will smiles, arching a brow. "Wanna show you something." Will knows better, but he obeys, letting Nigel pull him in and run his hands down Will's arms. He circles Will's wrists with his fingers, pulling him close.
"You're not fucking me before dinner," Will warns, even as he tilts his head to one side and lets Nigel mouth at his pulse. He shivers, breath catching as he breathes in Nigel's scent, that cling of danger and smoke and gunmetal.
Nigel hums, and kisses Will's neck. He knows how sensitive it is, smug asshole. Will bites his lower lip and closes his eyes, forehead resting on Nigel's shoulder as Nigel pulls Will's arms around him, letting them rest so that he can paw at Will's hip, over the mating bite he left, his other hand on the small of Will's back and teasing at the hem of his jeans.
"Don't need to fuck you to make you feel good, pretty boy," he purrs. Will whines, he can't help it. Nigel has a way of putting bad thoughts in his head – or, at least, encouraging the ones that are already there. When Will doesn't protest again, his fingers slip beneath Will's clothes, two fingers flat and teasing over Will's rim, which is already getting lax and slick with anticipation. He pulls Will closer, lets Will slot into place over one thigh, giving Will something to grind against.
"Fuck," Will growls, when one finger pushes inside him. Nigel snarls into his ear, free hand sliding up to grip the nape of Will's neck. Will grits his teeth, clenching his eyes tightly shut, feeling them burn as his gold shows through. Will spent most of his life on suppressants, before Hannibal, and one lasting side effect is that he rarely shows his gold. But that's before he managed to hook three Alphas into his nest, and they are all very good at bringing out that side of him, that golden-eyed beast they so adore.
He clings to Nigel's shirt, rough cotton rubbing his cheek as he turns his head and pants against Nigel's throat. He ruts forward helplessly, nails digging in as Nigel purrs and fucks him with a single finger, sucks on the sweaty skin of his sensitive neck and rumbles a purr against his chest. "God, Will, you're so fucking pretty, eager little -." Will bares his teeth, bites in warning. Nigel pushes in deeper, a second finger joining the first, his third extending to pet through the slick leaking from Will and stroke his perineum as Will grinds against Nigel's thigh.
Nigel's other hand tightens on the back of Will's neck, making him sag with another whimper, rocking between the wonderful fullness of Nigel's fingers inside him and his thick thigh. He can feel Nigel's cock, hard, Will's mouth waters as Nigel's scent thickens with arousal. "Nigel," he whines, knowing Nigel can't resist him when he starts begging. None of them can. "Please, please, harder."
Nigel snarls, and obeys, working his fingers inside Will with more force, making him lift to his toes as Will shakes and clings to him. He comes with a ragged noise, Nigel's fingers suddenly so big when he clenches down and pants through his orgasm.
"Fuck, Will," he growls, tugging on Will's hair and kissing him hard, bruising Will's mouth. "So fucking gorgeous. Fucking perfect, so wet and tight for me." He keeps petting Will, dragging his fingers over Will's prostate and curling so that his knuckles mimic the stretch of a knot. Will winces, sensitive and shaky, unable to pull away with Nigel's grip so strong and his own knees so weak.
"Jesus, fuck, st-. Stop," Will manages, and Nigel obeys immediately. He pulls his fingers out and sucks them clean, purring loudly as Will tries to catch his breath. Will kisses his thundering pulse, unable to stop rubbing himself against Nigel's cock. "You're an asshole," he laughs.
Nigel grins at him unapologetically, and kisses Will again. "Go shower," he says, giving Will a playful swat on his ass. Will huffs and nips him in answer, but pulls away. When he comes back into the house, he sees Hannibal's nostrils flare, a low growl rumbling through the air even over the sound of bubbling stock and meat popping as it roasts. Will smiles when he sees the red in Hannibal's eyes, and goes through the big main room, up the stairs, and into his bedroom.
Will gets the master bedroom. Always. It's usually the only room big enough for both his bed and his nest, and Hannibal has often cited the importance for an Omega having their own space, away from the scents and influence of their Alpha – or, in this case, Alphas. It's more difficult to accommodate that in European houses, since they tend to run smaller by design, but Hannibal has money and Duncan is good at finding suitable spots for them away from prying eyes.
Their current house has two other bedrooms. Hannibal and Nigel sleep in those. Duncan sometimes bounces between them, or spends the night with Will when he asks, but he also likes to sleep on the couch, guarding the door. No matter how much Will insists it's not necessary, Duncan is just as stubborn, and Will knows even when Will is in heat and Duncan is thoroughly distracted, he's antsy when he can't see the door.
Inwardly, Will is glad that they all have their own space. It's a rare night he sleeps completely on his own, but they are all, at heart, rather solitary creatures. Maybe that's why they all work together so well.
He strips out of his clothes and throws them on his nest, before he goes into the master bathroom and steps into the shower. He's still tingling from his orgasm and pleased by a successful catch, and the hot water soothes his muscles and washes away the scents of the outside. If Will had his way, he would only ever smell like his Alphas every minute of the day.
He showers quickly, picking the shampoo Hannibal favors as reward for staying home and cooking for them. It's something he knows Hannibal does for the pleasure of it, not as a chore, but he believes in appeasing his Alphas as best he can. They do so much for him, after all.
He finishes and towels off, making sure his hair remains slightly wet so that it'll drip and dry overly fluffy, enticing them to grab. He hangs the towel and dresses in clothes from his nest that stink of him. The nest is sectioned off, so that his Alphas can come in when he invites them, but can be cleaned separately on the very rare occasions that Will doesn't want to smell them at all. He finds one of Hannibal's sweaters – a royal blue, which Hannibal doesn't often wear, and Will suspects he only bought so that Will would steal it – and a pair of Duncan's black sweatpants. He pulls them on, the sleeves hanging over his hands and the large waistband slung low on his hips.
He runs his fingers through his hair, bites his lower lip and rubs his fingers over his neck to make it flush and go pink for good measure, and leaves his bedroom. As he crosses the hallway, he catches Duncan's scent, fresh, and tilts his head, following his scent to the door of Hannibal's bedroom. He folds his arms across his chest and leans against the doorframe, brow arched when he finds Duncan rooting through Hannibal's bedside table.
"I hope you asked to be in here," he teases. He knows Duncan respects Hannibal too much, and they've been together too long, for him to snoop.
Duncan straightens and eyes him, raking down Will and back up like a physical touch. Will's toes curl in the carpet and he hums curiously, his other brow joining the first.
"Course I did," Duncan replies gruffly. Will smiles, wide enough his cheeks hurt. When he overexaggerates his facial expressions, Duncan tends to mimic him. He has a nice smile, and does it so rarely, so Will pulls at that thread often. "It was cold out today. Hannibal said he kept the lidocaine in here."
Will nods, and sighs. "If you were in pain, we could have come back sooner," he murmurs, slightly distressed and guilty over the idea of one of his mates suffering for his sake. He isn't cruel to Duncan, it would be like kicking an injured dog. He comes into the room and nudges his nose to Duncan's scruffy jaw. "I moved it to the pantry," he says. Duncan hums, and nods, hand flattening on Will's spine and petting gently.
Will takes his other hand and leads him out of the room, back down the stairs. "Sit and I'll get it," he commands, gesturing to one of the big armchairs Hannibal got for the living room section of the ground floor. Duncan's lips thin out, but he obeys, because he always does what Will wants. Will fetches the lidocaine cream and coaxes Duncan to sit forward, pulling up the back of his turtleneck to reveal the scar tissue from one of his more recent wounds. It's fully healed, but it's close to his spine, and Duncan is old enough to feel things like cold weather in his bones.
"You think you'll need anything stronger?" he asks, squirting some of the cream onto his fingers and handing Duncan the bottle.
Duncan grunts. "'S worked before."
"Alright." Will climbs onto the wide arm, feet tucked between Duncan's legs, Duncan wrapping an arm around him to keep him steady. Will smiles and rests on Duncan's shoulder, holding his sweater up while he rubs the cream onto the scar, thoroughly coating it, and pets the sore muscles surrounding it until Duncan is no longer quite so tense.
Will smiles when he's done, and wraps his arm around Duncan's head, kissing the parting of his flat grey hair. It makes Duncan purr for him, halting and rough. He can't purr as cleanly or constantly as Nigel or Hannibal, given his wounds. Will has never minded. He kisses Duncan's hair again, thumbs smoothing beneath the creases in his face from his eyepatch, smiling as Duncan pets his back in answer.
Will looks up as Hannibal emerges from the kitchen, motion drawing his attention. Their eyes meet, unspoken conversation passing, and Will peels himself from Duncan and goes to Hannibal, following him into the kitchen so he can help Hannibal plate the food and serve the drinks. Hannibal nuzzles him gently, constantly touching Will's hip or shoulder as they move together seamlessly, and Will smiles, thrumming with pleasure at such constant attention from his Alpha.
They have a small square table outside of the kitchen, avoiding the potential issue of one of them being at the 'head' of the table and therefore triggering a dominance battle. Will has often laughed to himself over the idea – they all know Will would be the one at the head of the table anyway. But this is a simpler solution.
Nigel emerges from the garage, lured by the scent of food. He drinks beer, Duncan drinks whiskey, Will drinks whatever Hannibal gives him. Today, it's red wine, to compliment the meat he hunted for all of them.
Another impossible thing: Duncan had seemed utterly unbothered by their choice of diet. Meat is meat, after all. Nigel had found it hilarious. They're both more interested in the quality of the food, and less where it comes from. As long as it's good and as long as no one forces them to become vegetarian.
Duncan sits so that he can see the door, Hannibal on his left, closest to it, then Will, then Nigel on Duncan's right. The table is small enough that everyone's knees brush, hands within constant reach. The meal is relatively plain; long-pig Wellington, the breading crisp and the meat inside steaming, accompanied by a collection of roast brussels sprouts, spinach leaves, parsnips, and carrots. There's a gravy boat in the middle of the table next to the wine Will and Hannibal are drinking.
They settle. Will waits. Alpha eats first, that's the rule, and while neither Duncan nor Nigel have ever made him wait, Hannibal does sometimes. Since he's the first mate, and the only one who really cares about it, the other two defer to him on archaic rules like this.
He must be feeling generous, or he's particularly hungry today, because he only delays long enough to pour Will's wine and kiss his wrist, before he's slicing into his food and taking his first bite. Duncan goes next, then Nigel, and Will eagerly starts eating as well. It's delicious, as usual, the meat still almost raw-red in the middle, dripping with juice. The vegetables have been seasoned with balsamic vinegar and beef stock, and are blister-hot on Will's tongue.
When it was just him and Hannibal, their dinners would take hours. They would talk, food almost cold by the time they were both finished. When Duncan started eating regularly with them, they curbed that desire, usually speaking inside each other's mind palaces while they ate in silence. Now it's more routine, for Will to wander through the back roads of his mind until he comes upon the great manor door and lets himself in.
Hannibal is waiting for him, in a room that looks much like his old psychiatric office, though the edges are fuzzier, and the fireplace is lit, casting the upper level and the borders into deep, impenetrable shadow. Will approaches his mate with a smile, pressing Hannibal down onto one of those big, wide leather chairs he used to have, settling heavy and warm on Hannibal's lap.
"Hey," he greets, resting their foreheads together, noses rubbing. Hannibal smiles at him, his eyes nearer to black in the firelight than their normal mix of brown and red. His hands slide to Will's hips and Will shivers, even as in the real world he takes a sip of his wine, gentling his teeth with the thick, sweet drink.
"Hello, darling," Hannibal purrs, kissing Will's bared throat, up his jaw, breathing him in raggedly. Hannibal's fingers curl around his knife and fork a little tighter when, in their mind palace, Will whimpers and wraps his arms around Hannibal's shoulders. He shifts his weight on his chair, exhales long and slow. "I missed you today."
"You could have come with us," Will replies. Not petulant, he has never questioned when one of them joins him, or leaves him be, or seeks solace from the others. The only time Will demands their company is when he's in heat, and he has yet to be refused at that time.
Hannibal hums, lashes drooping low as Will gently pets his soft hair, nails scraping along his scalp. He moves his fingers down, better now at manipulating Hannibal's visage, as well as the rooms Hannibal created in his palace, to suit his own needs. Hannibal's collared shirt and tie unravel and part for him, so he can pet his mate's chest, and lean down to nuzzle the welted mating mark placed low on Hannibal's throat. When they first mated, Hannibal had begged Will to bite him, knotted deep and trembling in Will's arms. Will had honestly not expected him to, given Hannibal's control issues. But that was before he understood how desperately, how devotedly, Hannibal loves him.
He bites down, reopening the wound, and in the waking world Hannibal's knife skates along his plate. Will smirks at the flush on his cheeks, the thickening ring of red around his pupil, and takes another drink of wine.
Duncan grunts, and nudges Nigel knowingly. "They're getting started without us," he mutters.
"You're more than welcome to join," Will replies. He senses movement behind him, but the shadow is too untried to take real shape. Duncan and Nigel have both attempted to enter their shared mental space. Will has the utmost faith that, eventually, they will. Or Will can come to them. But they haven't been with Will and Hannibal as long, nor were they inclined to such profound mental intimacy.
Still, Will shivers and purrs roughly as he feels Duncan trap his ankle beneath the table, and Nigel's hand flattens on Will's thigh. He digs his nails into Hannibal's shoulders, grinding his hips roughly down against his first Alpha, his breathing going ragged.
"Will," Hannibal snarls, both out loud and into Will's mouth. Will kisses him, sharing the taste of Hannibal's blood, raking his nails down Hannibal's shoulders. His throat tightens with the strength it takes to resist the urge to use his Voice on them, to command they follow him upstairs and show him how much they love him.
Later. The night is young.
"Eat," Will coaxes, brushing his hand over Hannibal's white knuckles. "Eat, baby." Hannibal growls lowly, but obeys, continuing with his meal.
In their palace, Will curls his fingers around the back of Hannibal's neck and snarls, in his ear; "When dinner's done, you're going to chase me." Hannibal trembles below him, breathing hard. "I want your knot, first."
"Anything," Hannibal breathes, looking up at him with reddened eyes. His hands tighten on Will's hips and Will swallows a soft moan, feeling himself getting slick again. He squirms in his seat, swallowing harshly, and drinks more wine. It's strong, one of Hannibal's own creations that hold influence from him, and Duncan, and Nigel. He gives it to Will when he wants him insatiable, pliant and weak, a slave to his instincts. The fact that Hannibal is drinking the same means Will is going to be in for a fantastic night. He eyes Nigel's drink, noting that the beer was poured into a glass – another creation from Hannibal. He's giving him the same influx of hormones, Will can see it. Nigel's eyes are the reddest naturally, he's younger and more emotional than Hannibal and Duncan, but right now they're blazing with heat. Duncan seems largely unaffected, though his nostrils flare at the scent of their arousal. Once Will starts making noise, Will knows he'll rise up to the challenge.
Will finishes his meal first, his mates thoroughly distracted. He forces himself to part from Hannibal in their palace, feels Hannibal tense up in readiness. He meets Nigel's eyes, first. Since they started going and getting into trouble together, Will trained him to know what Will wants from just a look. It's not as seamless as his wordless conversations with Hannibal, but Nigel gets the gist more often than not.
He tilts his head, and Nigel nods, finishes his beer, and sets his knife and fork down beside his empty plate. He looks at Duncan, who has also finished his meal. "Smoke break?" he offers. Duncan nods, and rises. Will tilts his head up, receiving a kiss from each of them as they pass him and head out the front door, Nigel rumbling to Duncan in Romanian, which Duncan speaks as well, passably. Hannibal is learning.
Hannibal takes Will's hand, drawing his attention. He kisses Will's wrist, nosing the sleeve of his sweater up to bare warm skin, and breathes in raggedly, the red in his eyes only getting brighter. "Will," he whispers hoarsely, meeting Will's eyes. Even after so many years together, the way Hannibal can ruin Will with just his name hits him as hard as it did the first time.
Will smiles, and cups Hannibal's face, drawing him in for a kiss. "Let's clean everything up, shall we?" he purrs, and Hannibal nods. His arousal is like cigar smoke and whiskey on Will's tongue, making his mouth flood with saliva. He wants to get on his knees for Hannibal already, draw him out and suck him down, feel his knot cracking Will's jaw apart as he floods Will's belly.
He resists, barely. He's so wet and eager he feels it leaking out of him, slicking his thighs. Hannibal growls as Will stacks the plates and hands them over, and takes the empty glasses himself, coaxing Hannibal into the kitchen so they can clean everything. Even though he knows Hannibal would eagerly follow him anywhere, just like Duncan with his need to watch the door, Hannibal is distracted when the dishes are left undone.
If Hannibal was affectionate before dinner, it's nothing compared to him now. He corners Will against the counter, mouthing at his neck, teeth grazing the scar of his mating bite as he fills the sink with hot, soapy water. He groans when he realizes Will chose the shampoo he likes best; minty and sharp, complimenting his natural scent.
"Will," he purrs, name catching at the base of his throat. Will smiles at him, stepping away to grab a dishtowel to dry the bigger pans. Hannibal stares at him, flushed and so static, as he gets when he's fighting with all his might the urge to lunge and take. The look in his eyes makes the heat in Will's stomach drop low, makes him feel weak and heavy all at once.
He swallows, and smiles, reaching out to turn the water off before the sink can overflow. "Hannibal," he murmurs, voice even. "Help me clean up." Hannibal snarls at him, and Will bites the inside of his lower lip. He might have pushed too hard, what with the hormones in the wine and teasing him in their mind palace. Not that he's ever minded the results.
The thing is, Omegas take care of their mates. Yes, traditionally, the stereotype is that the Alpha defends the home, fucks the Omega full of children, hunts and provides, makes the money, handles the affairs of the world and keeps Omega happy, safe, and satisfied. But Will doesn't need any of that. He's a killer, too. He can handle himself.
He's here, with all of them, by choice. He doesn't need them to protect him, or hunt for him, or even to fuck him – he managed just fine on his own for most of his adult life. He's here because he wants to be. He chose them, and he takes care of them as much as they take care of him. Otherwise, this wouldn't work.
He handles each of them with care, giving them what they need. Duncan needs quiet companionship, gentleness, sweetness. Nigel needs someone to laugh with, to drink and fuck in the middle of somewhere crowded, who'll let him curse and throw a punch and leap with him into the fray.
Hannibal needs an equal. Someone just as capable of manipulation as he is. Someone who sees him, and matches him, as a perfect equal and opposite. That understands how to play him.
Will can feel Hannibal's control slipping, fraying apart like the individual pieces that make up a thick rope, snapping one by one. It ruts against him like a physical thing, makes his hands shake and his body soaked, but Hannibal doesn't like losing control. Not until he's ready.
"Hannibal," he says again, more harshly. Hannibal blinks at him, breathes in deeply. Will touches his face, his chest, placative and soft. He gentles his voice, tilts his head to one side, showing the vulnerable arch of his throat. "Help me, Alpha? I don't want to clean all of this on my own. The faster we finish the faster you can chase me and take care of me."
Hannibal's lashes flutter, and he exhales heavily, rubbing his cheek against Will's temple. "Of course," he murmurs. There's a smile in his voice, knowing Will is manipulating him, but he delights in that. Will kisses his cheek and turns away, prepared to dry whatever Hannibal hands him.
Hannibal works quickly, thorough but obviously rushed. Will forces him to slow down by drying the large pans of every drop of water, setting them down meticulously on the open counter beside the sink. He senses Hannibal's frustration build, but ignores it, focusing instead on the meditative task of drying the dishes one by one.
When there is nothing but what can fit in the strainer, he sets the towel down and kisses Hannibal's flushed cheek. "Not yet," he murmurs, when Hannibal shows his teeth. "I'll come back. Be good and wait for me."
Hannibal nods, once, and Will leaves before he changes his mind. He follows the sound of rough laughter to the outside, finds Nigel and Duncan sprawled on the chairs on the porch, a bowl of cigarette butts between them and smoke hanging like a cloud.
Nigel tilts his head up, breathes in. "Hannibal done with you already?" he teases.
Will arches a brow, and rolls his eyes. He shakes his head when Nigel offers him his lit cigarette.
"Hannibal needs me first," he tells them. Duncan grunts, taking another drag. Will laces his fingers with Nigel's free hand and squeezes. Nigel kisses the back of his hand, his lips warm and soft. "He's gonna chase me upstairs, so don't freak out if you hear him snap."
Duncan snorts, smiling.
"Whatever you want, gorgeous," Nigel murmurs, squeezing his hand again, kissing Will's knuckles. In the darkness on the porch, they're both like shadows, only visible by the glow of their cigarettes and the gleam of red in their eyes, as well as the soft light coming from inside. It makes them look wild, huge, monstrous.
Will shifts his weight, toes cold but the rest of him starting to burn. He feels a nudge in his mind, and parts from Nigel with a smile. "See you soon," he purrs, making them growl in answer. He goes back inside.
He finds Hannibal still in the kitchen, watching the sink drain like the swirl of water holds the answer to the meaning of life. His cheeks are red, hair going damp from sweat, the first two buttons of his shirt undone and sleeves pushed up to show the flex of muscle in his forearms. Will swallows, already trembling and eager, slick leaking down his legs to make Duncan's sweatpants stick to his thighs.
Hannibal is tense. He knows Will is there. He's forced himself to freeze solid, wary of spooking Will. Not that Will has ever been afraid of him, but it's instinct. Hannibal is the kind of Alpha to fuck his mate to pieces and lovingly sew them back together. He's done it to Will more times than Will can count. That kind of need is impossible if the Omega is truly afraid, truly broken and hurt.
Will clears his throat. Hannibal's eyes close.
"Alpha," he calls sweetly. Hannibal's eyes snap open, flaring a brilliant red. He looks at Will.
Will smiles. Hannibal shows his teeth.
He takes a step back.
Hannibal takes a step forward, like he can't help himself.
Will puts a hand on the frame of the door, and then uses it for leverage to turn tail and bolt for the stairs. Immediately, he hears Hannibal snarl and give chase, his long legs closing the distance easily. Will lunges up the stairs and into his room, glad he left the door open. He runs for his nest and Hannibal catches him on the edge, sending them both stumbling into it. The base is thick and Will lands hard on his hands and knees, panting as Hannibal covers him, shoving him down to his stomach.
Hannibal growls loudly, and all at once, he bites down on the back of Will's neck and rips the sweater in two, right down the back, baring Will. Will whines, spreading his legs as Hannibal forces them apart with his knees, clawing at the nest below him as Hannibal bites down harder, teeth perfectly slotting into the mating mark on the nape of Will's neck. Will's spine flexes, he grits his teeth and lets out a pained cry, both to warn and appease.
Hannibal gentles immediately, licking over the fresh bruise. He rubs his forehead against Will's damp hair, breathing heavily, and Will moans quietly in encouragement, lifting his hips, rutting back onto Hannibal's clothed cock.
"Alpha," he whispers, and winces when Hannibal bites him again.
"No," he snaps.
Will knows his mistake. Hannibal doesn't like it when Will calls him 'Alpha'. Not like this. Not when manipulation is left at the door and they touch each other, as bastardized, monstrous love demands they do.
"Hannibal," he says instead, and Hannibal purrs loudly, rubbing his cheek against Will's hair, down his bare shoulder. He edges his teeth along the blade and bites down, making Will whimper and arch against him. He stretches his arms above his head, sweater bunching at the elbows, and spreads his knees wide enough his hips ache. "Please, Hannibal, please mount me. I need you."
Hannibal shudders, and pushes up, one hand tight around Will's sore nape as he yanks at his clothes, parting them with no more care than he handled the sweater. Will whimpers as Hannibal shoves his cock between Will's thighs, fabric damp and clinging with slick, and forces his legs together to give himself friction.
"Hannibal," Will whines, looking over his shoulder to see his mate. Hannibal's eyes are all red, now, his teeth bared, hair falling flat in front of his face. He's a mess, sweat making his clothes cling to him. Will closes his eyes and pushes his sweatpants down to his thighs since Hannibal doesn't seem capable of doing it himself. Hannibal snarls as he bares his slick, pink hole, so wet Will can smear his slick up his neck and over his own mouth so Hannibal can taste it when he mounts him.
Hannibal tilts his head back, breathes in deeply. He prowls over Will and presses him down into the nest, licking Will's slick from his neck, biting down again over Will's racing pulse. Will lowers his hips, gets Hannibal's cock rutting against his ass. Hannibal arches, rumbling loudly, and grips Will's hips tightly at a good angle, sinking inside him with one brutal thrust.
Will screams into his wrists, entire body shuddering as Hannibal mounts him, shoving deep into his slick body and holding him steady at his hips. He leans back, groaning softly as Hannibal wastes no time, fucking him at a brutal pace. They all do this, once they get inside Will, but Hannibal has the luxury and experience of not just fucking Will blind, but penetrating his head as well, wrapping Will up in his desire like a blanket.
They're back in the study and in the nest, Will drawn to the fire and laid out on his back like an offering. Hannibal, inside him, raking lines in his bare chest and across his throat, choking him, pulling his hair, even when in the real world Hannibal's hands don't move from Will's hips. He presses on Nigel's mating bite and Will whimpers, scrambling for purchase.
"Will," Hannibal breathes, like an animal post-charge. He plasters himself over Will's back, shirt still done, buttons dragging along Will's warm, sensitive skin. Will whimpers and tilts his head to one side, offering his slick-coated neck. "Will, darling." Will, darling. It echoes in their mind palace as well and Will spasms, so close.
"No," he whines, shaking his head. He stares at Hannibal in their mind palace, drinks in the sight of his beautiful mate, proud and bare and fine, so strong, arms and shoulders bulging with the effort of breaking Will apart at the center. Of tearing him to shreds, revealing blood and bone and his racing heart. "Not yet, not yet, please, not yet…."
"Will," Hannibal snarls, his Voice powerful and sending shockwaves all down Will's spine. He runs his hands up Will's flanks and holds him tight, pulling him back onto Hannibal's brutal thrusts. In their mind palace, Will can't keep his eyes open. He can't in real life, either. "Don't hold back, you beautiful thing. Let me feel you."
Will can't disobey his mate's Voice. He bites down on the sweater, pooled below his face and chest, and moans loudly enough that he's sure Nigel and Duncan can hear him. They'll be compelled to come in, but that's good, that's perfect. Will craves more hands on him, more heat. He wants pressure in his mouth as well as against his rim, a hand around his cock, around his throat, in his hair, dragging along his spine, his thighs.
Hannibal kisses him in their mind palace, swallowing Will's sounds as Will paints their bellies. He runs his fingers through Hannibal's hair, trembling, every muscle in him locked up as his body tries to coax Hannibal to knot.
"Oh God, fuck, Hannibal, please, please," he rasps, lowering his chest to his knees and pulling Hannibal over him, forcing Hannibal to brace himself on either side of Will's head and fuck him hard enough that, if they were in a bed, they'd break it. They have before.
Each powerful thrust of Hannibal's cock inside him makes Will's body jerk with aftershocks, whining pitifully into the sweater still caught in his mouth, soaked with saliva. He spits it out and turns his head, seeking a kiss, wanting the pressure Hannibal gave him in their mind palace, teeth in his lower lip, hands warm on his face.
Hannibal wraps himself around Will tightly, rutting with a low snarl. Will gasps, and lifts his head, frantically rubbing their cheeks together, desperate in a way he can't describe. The nest stinks of them, and his heart is racing, and he wants Hannibal, needs him so badly it feels like he can't breathe. "Hannibal," he whispers, winding a shaking hand through Hannibal's sweaty hair, turning his head even though it makes his bruised neck ache, so he can kiss his Alpha's jaw, his panting mouth, his red cheek. "Please. Please knot me. Please."
He doesn't use his Voice, but Hannibal acts like he did. His hips jerk, he groans lowly against Will's neck, hands finding both of Will's and planting them on the nest, fingers lacing. Will drops his head, sighs, as Hannibal ruts against Will's slick ass, forcing his knot inside so it can shove Will apart and plug him full. He loves this feeling, being covered by one of his Alphas, the moment right before they start coming inside him.
Hannibal nips him, nuzzling Will's sweaty hair affectionately as he sighs, going still, and starts to come. The weight and warmth in Will's stomach calms the frantic need somewhat, instincts exacerbated by the hormones in the wine settled with a good knot.
He pulls Hannibal's hands to his chest and Hannibal embraces him with a contented sigh, still nuzzling, purr loud against Will's back. He rocks his hips, teasing Will with the fullness of his knot, testing the seal, until Will groans and goes lax, submitting to Hannibal's teasing, continuous stimulation.
He hears a floorboard creak and lifts his head, smiling widely when Duncan and Nigel enter his bedroom, closing the door behind them. They are careful not to approach Will's bed, staying within the allowed border of his nest and the floor surrounding it, where Will always welcomes them. He knows the door has been locked, the windows shut and sealed, the borders checked.
He reaches out, fingers still laced with Hannibal's. Nigel kneels down at their sides, cups Will's face and kisses him as Duncan climbs into the nest by Will's head, giving him a thigh on which to pillow his cheek when Nigel releases him. They're both purring, soothing Will and Hannibal both. Duncan winds a hand through Will's hair and Will sighs, watching through heavy-lidded eyes as Nigel rests his forehead against Hannibal's hair, one hand petting down his heaving back.
Then, he gasps, as Nigel's other hand snakes between their thighs, rubbing at Will's perineum which is taut and swollen around Hannibal's knot. Hannibal shudders as well, growling in pleasure as Nigel adds pressure, pinching Will's prostate and making him whine as Hannibal's knot is squeezed in ricochet.
"Got him plugged up nice and fucking good," Nigel purrs, kissing Hannibal's cheek. Hannibal rumbles quietly, and lifts his head, nuzzling Nigel more purposefully. He kisses Nigel, just as passionately as he kissed Will, and Will shivers as he feels Nigel stroke down his slick skin, between his legs, tugging at his soft cock so that Will arches with another plaintive noise.
"Please," he groans. Like a starving man given a single bite of food, he aches for more. He tilts his head up, meeting Duncan's gaze as the older Alpha pets his face. Will moans, nuzzling Duncan's hard cock through his jeans, salivating at the thought of getting it in his mouth. "Please, Alpha."
"Fuck yeah," Nigel whispers, tightening his hand around Will and stroking, forcing pleasure to rake like nails up his spine, fogging his head. He can't concentrate on the mind palace anymore, is yanked purely into the reality of all three of his Alphas, penning him in and weighing him down. Hannibal's grip on him stops him moving too much, only able to grind on his knot and whine as Nigel strokes him back to hardness. "Plug his fucking mouth, Duncan. Let's get him nice and full."
Will gasps, as Duncan obeys the order. He lets go of Will's hair, letting Will rub his open mouth along the line of his cock, too out of it to figure out how to move his hands and use them to get his Alpha bare. Duncan pulls his turtleneck over his head, adding it to Will's nest. He grabs Will's wrists and pulls them up, holding them in one hand, and takes the sweater from beneath Will, twisting it and fashioning a crude but tight knot, binding Will's wrists together.
Will wants to put his hands on Duncan's scars, to kiss every one and relish the knowledge of how strong his Alpha is, how powerful, how determined to survive. He survived, age and loneliness and attempted murder. He survived and now Will is his reward. He needs to reward him, with his mouth, his hands, his slick body. His pretty cries.
He drags his nails down Duncan's chest, touches the thick white scar running down the center of his belly, and whimpers as Duncan unfastens and unzips his jeans, pulling his thick, leaking cock from the hole in his underwear. Will shakes his head, even as Duncan's hand goes to his hair. He wants Duncan bare. He wants to touch.
"No," he whispers, looking up. He mouths at Duncan's tense thigh. "All of it. Off. All of it."
"Will is particularly needy today," Hannibal remarks, and Will can hear the smile in his voice. As though he didn't just chase Will and go near-mute with his need to rut. But Will doesn't care about that – their obedience is more important than his pride. He's Omega, he's the one they all would die and kill to please, and even when he's trapped and manhandled and fucked open, he's powerful.
"Please, Duncan," he whines, looking up through his lashes, through his damp hair.
Nigel snarls, and leans down to nip Will's shoulder. "Put your fucking cock in his mouth or I will," he rumbles. He's the most sexually aggressive of the three of them, tends to give orders while Hannibal and Duncan are lost to the simple, mindless need to please Will. Even as the youngest, and the newest, they obey him as readily as they obey Will.
Duncan rumbles lowly, releasing Will and shifting to one side so he can shed the rest of his clothes. Will feels Hannibal's shirt getting unbuttoned as well, Nigel's hands not on him, so he assumes Nigel is the one doing it since Hannibal is still holding Will fast, unable to let him go. Hannibal's knot is sensitive, every spasm of Will's body keeps it swollen and coaxes another load from him. Still, he's big, and he likes to come deep, so nothing leaks out.
Duncan pulls Will up by his hair, making him whimper, and moves back into place. Will parts his lips readily, saliva dripping from his mouth as he takes Duncan's cock to the root, throat clenching around him as he forces himself down, until he can feel his Alpha as deep as possible. His eyes close, purr stuck in his throat. Duncan groans, tense, his grip tightening in Will's hair as he forces Will down, crushing Will's nose into his pubic hair as Will chokes, and trembles, and locks up tight around Hannibal as Nigel goes back to stroking his cock.
"There we go," Nigel purrs, barely audible over the rush of blood in Will's ears. Duncan lifts him up, giving Will a moment to breathe, to force his sore throat to make a whine, before he's being pulled back down again. "Fucking perfect, gorgeous, taking cock at both ends like the little whore you are."
Hannibal rumbles, quietly, with displeasure. "I'd prefer if you didn't call him that when I'm here," he says mildly.
Nigel laughs, but Will hears them kissing again, and assumes the subject is settled. Nigel's hand returns to Will's cock, stroking him so slowly, torturously so, making Will whine and rut forward and back, stuck on Hannibal's knot. The pressure is insane, he knows as soon as Hannibal pulls out he's going to soak his nest. He whines, trying not to tense up anymore, sure that Hannibal is growing oversensitive the longer he remains inside Will.
He reaches with his bound hands, trusting Duncan and Hannibal to hold him up as he grabs Nigel's arm, pulling him closer. Duncan lets him pull off with a ragged gasp, and Will turns his head, kissing Nigel hard enough to wring a snarl from him.
Hannibal lets out a weak, low noise, nuzzling Will's flank above where his hands have planted bruises to the base of Will's ribs. Duncan tugs Will's head back onto his cock and Will moans as he's plugged full again, tongue shoved down and throat spasming around his Alpha's thick cock. He can feel Duncan's knot against his teeth when he sucks him to the base, and he relaxes his jaw, ready whenever Duncan is.
Will swallows around his cock, letting his jaw go entirely lax, just a wet hole for Duncan to use. He tugs at the binding around his wrists, finds the knots steady and snug, and moans weakly as Hannibal, finally, goes down enough to pull out.
The flood of slick and come from Will's ass is obscene, he feels it trickling warm down his thighs, dripping onto the nest between his knees. He shivers, closing his eyes, as Hannibal pets up his spine, purrs for him, nuzzles Will's shoulder and moves to the side. Will can see him in his periphery when he manages to open his eyes, though his vision is blurred with reflexive tears. He squeezes his eyes shut again, forcing them to fall, and moans when Hannibal thumbs them away.
Nigel moves, then, and kneels between Will's legs. He reaches down and wraps his fist around Will's cock, stroking him as Duncan finally grunts, and pulls Will's head down. Hannibal's thumb is at one corner of Will's mouth, Duncan's at the other, helping him stretch his lips wide around Duncan's thick knot. Duncan tugs on his hair, growls roughly, stomach and thighs tensing as Will takes him past his knot and locks his teeth around it, breathes out heavily and relaxes as Duncan starts to come. It floods his throat like thick honey, so warm, making Will choke. He swallows and sighs as some leaks out around the seal of Duncan's knot.
Duncan settles with a heavy exhale, wrapping both hands in Will's hair and lightly tugging, forcing Will to tug on his knot, until his teeth ache and he's gently playing with Duncan's balls, encouraging him to spill more. He tightens his lips and sucks, making the Alpha groan again, petting Will's neck, his shoulders, his sweaty back. He likes pulling on Will's hair, can and has simply pet him for hours.
Will sighs, shivering, surrendering to the pleasant tugs in his hair and all three of his Alphas' hands on him. Nigel stopped jerking him off while Duncan knotted his mouth, wary of making Will choke. He starts again as Will goes lax.
Will trembles, knuckles going white as he clenches his fists. He can't speak, so he desperately seeks Hannibal out in their mind palace, howling for his Alpha until he feels Hannibal's hand join Duncan's in his hair.
"Please," Will begs, kissing Hannibal, clawing at him. "Please. I want him inside me."
Hannibal purrs, and kisses Will's red cheek. "Nigel," he murmurs. "You should knot Will, now."
Nigel snarls, tightening his fist around Will's cock, painfully hard and leaking. He hears Nigel's soft laughter, feels his lips drag against Will's shoulder. Feels him pull them back and bite, hard enough to get Will to spasm and force another load of come and slick out of his hole.
"Should I?" he taunts. He pushes two fingers into Will, not enough, not enough. Will groans as Nigel presses down, rubbing his prostate with firm, constant pressure, his other hand tightening.
Please, Will begs, screams in his skull.
Nigel laughs again, like he hears it, and adds a third finger, stretching Will wide. He grunts. "Hannibal, you too," he commands, and Hannibal smiles, sitting up and pushing two of his fingers in alongside Nigel's, making Will moan and clench around them. "Maybe if Will is good and comes for us, I'll fuck him like he wants."
Duncan shudders as Will clamps his lips around his knot and sucks, hard. His jaw aches, lips bruised and so wet, he can't fucking breathe. Duncan starts to soften, knot deflating enough that he can slip out of Will's mouth and Will nuzzles the hair on his stomach, clinging to his strong thighs.
"Please, Nigel," he cries, throat so fucked out and sore it barely comes out as words. He arches his back, lowers his chest, pants against the soiled clothes making up the top layer of his nest. "Fuck, fucking knot me, asshole."
Nigel laughs, and bites down hard on Will's flank. "Easy, gorgeous," he taunts, "or I'll fuck that pretty mouth instead and leave you empty."
Will shakes his head, breathing raggedly. He can't reach back and grab, not with the way his hands are tied. He's so sensitive and sore, hardly able to pull in enough air, brain sinking into that delirious, insensate place where not even Hannibal can reach him. His Alphas' fingers feel so good, stretching him wide, Nigel's callused hand stroking him, quickening his pace as Will's cries become more frantic and higher.
"God, fuck, fuck -." And then Duncan reaches over him as well and pushes his fingers inside, forcing Will impossibly wide. Will's second orgasm comes for him with teeth, and he's too fucked out to make noise, simply gasping and trembling as he coats Nigel's fist with his come, another flood of slick spilling from his hole and coating their fingers.
"Good boy," Nigel purrs, satisfaction dripping from his voice. He pulls his fingers out, prompting the others to do the same, and pulls Will to his knees, against his chest. Will gasps, baring his throat as Nigel kisses his hammering pulse, wrapping both strong arms around Will's chest. It's a tight grip and Will already can't breathe, but he doesn't want to. Hannibal kisses him, cupping his face, sharing lingering cigarette smoke from Nigel's mouth. Duncan kneels beside him, grazing his teeth over Will's collarbone and biting down. He clutches at Duncan's hair with both hands, moaning into the kiss as Nigel lifts him and sinks Will onto his cock.
Nigel snarls against his red neck, tightening his arms for a brief moment, before he slides them down Will's stomach and flattens one hand over Will's hip, where his mating mark is. The other comes down hard on Will's ass, making him flinch and whine into Hannibal's mouth. "Ride me, gorgeous," he demands. "Make me knot that fucking perfect, wet ass."
Will does, using Hannibal as his support as he rolls his hips and fucks himself on Nigel's cock, Duncan's mouth sliding to his nipple and sucking harshly, sending more sensation up and down his spine. He's so sensitive and sore, moving purely on instinct. His eyes burn with gold, with tears, his mouth smearing saliva over Hannibal's shoulder as he whimpers and writhes, desperate for Nigel's knot.
Nigel doesn't make him wait long. Whether he's eager or impatient, Will doesn't know, but he doesn't care. He whimpers, biting Hannibal's shoulder as Nigel swells inside him and starts coming, snarling and sucking a bruise to Will's neck. His hand toys with Will's neglected nipple, making him squirm, pawing at Duncan's hair.
"One more," Nigel coaxes, gripping his throat and making him tilt his head back. Will whines, shaking his head. He's so sensitive, it's going to hurt more than it feels good. Nigel slides his fingers, coated with Will's slick, into his mouth, silencing his protests. Will clenches his eyes tightly shut as Duncan wraps his hand around Will's cock. Hannibal is purring, nuzzling the other side of Will's neck, and adds his own touch, petting Will's wet perineum as Nigel did when Hannibal was inside him.
Will sobs around Nigel's fingers, nails dragging down Duncan's shoulder as they touch him, working him mercilessly to another orgasm. He comes with a breathless whimper and Nigel immediately slides his fingers free, holding him upright as Will sags, every inch of him shaking.
"Good boy," Nigel says again, sounding just as breathless. He holds Will tightly and ruts against him, Will little more than a ragdoll in his arms. "That's it. Milk my fucking knot, fuck." He bites down on Will's shoulder, making him whine and spasm again. Will manages to find the strength to pull his knees together and push Duncan's and Hannibal's hands away from him, too sensitive to bear another touch. Nigel's knot ruts against his prostate, making him growl.
Hannibal sighs, looking at Will with unrivaled fondness and pleasure. He kisses Will's slack mouth, cupping his sore jaw, and then kisses Nigel as Duncan kisses Will, stealing a taste for himself. Nigel's knot slides free a moment later and Will collapses on his hands and knees, trembling and suddenly so cold without their hands on him.
He whines, short and fierce, making them all freeze. Hannibal reacts first, a slave to Will's needs. He wraps Will in his arms and pulls Will to his chest, settling on their sides on the nest and covering Will with a blanket. Duncan unties Will's wrists and rubs at the pink marks left behind. Nigel curls up by Will's feet, still recovering and slowest to react. He rests his head on Will's hip and hugs his thighs over the blanket, kissing him through the fabric.
Will breathes in. Out. In again, matching Hannibal's rhythm. He closes his eyes and smiles as Duncan lays down in front of him, reaches out and touches Duncan's chest, and another hand in Nigel's hair. He tilts his head up and puts his cheek beneath Hannibal's as Hannibal embraces him and kisses the corner of his sore mouth.
All three of them are purring so loudly, and though Will is exhausted, he makes himself answer them with one of his own. He pets Nigel's hair and rests his hand on Duncan's shoulder, needing to touch all of them.
Hannibal kisses the back of his neck. "Do you need anything, darling?" he whispers.
Will smiles, and shakes his head. "No," he replies, for good measure. "Just stay with me."
All of them tighten their grip on him. "Of course."
When Will wakes, they're all still in the nest with him, sound asleep. At some point he was rolled onto his back, Hannibal's cheek on his shoulder, Duncan curled up above him with his hand on Will's chest, Nigel plastered heavy between his legs, still over the blanket.
He's exhausted and sore in the best way. Even though he needs to go to the bathroom and wants to stretch, he won't disturb them quite yet. The sun is barely rising, shining through the window in his bedroom, and the scent of his three contented Alphas urges him to relax and drift for a while.
Hannibal, of course, as the most sensitive to changes in Will's awareness, stirs first. He rumbles tiredly, and smiles when Will kisses his hair. "Good morning, darling," he purrs, and props himself up on his elbow so he can see Will's face.
"Mornin'," Will rasps, throat still almost too sore to speak. Hannibal hums, and kisses his throat, his jaw, his mouth chastely.
"Are you hungry? Do you need water? I can bring you something," Hannibal offers, eyes dark. No longer red, but still shining. Again, it strikes Will just how eager Hannibal is, to please and serve him, through any means necessary.
Will shakes his head, and combs his fingers through Hannibal's hair. He leans up, making Duncan stir with a small grunt, and kisses the mating mark on Hannibal's throat. "Stay," he commands. "You were so good for me, last night. I want you to stay."
Hannibal swallows, lowering his gaze, overwhelmed by Will. Will smiles and kisses him properly, coaxing Hannibal to lay back down beside him. "You were all so good," he continues, sensing Nigel and Duncan waking up, roused by the sound of his voice. He pets Nigel's hair, kisses Duncan's forehead when it's offered.
Duncan smiles, more an affectionate light in his eye than any real expression in his mouth. Will kisses him chastely, petting his cheeks and jaw. When Nigel pulls the blanket to one side to kiss the mark he left on Will's hip, Will smiles and pets his hair, rewarding him with another sweet purr.
He closes his eyes as they settle again. In a few minutes, once all of them are more awake, they'll need Will to take care of them again, to praise them and pet them, and tell them how good they were, how strong and fierce they are, how much Will loves them and needs them to touch him. They probably won't leave the nest for some time, and Will is certainly going to be too sore to do much.
But that's alright. They have plenty of food, and the day promises to be warm.
He feels another small, plaintive nudge in his mind, mirrored by Hannibal kissing his neck. He enters the manor of Hannibal's mind palace and leaves the door open, in case Duncan and Nigel figure out how to follow him in. The fire is still lit, flickering happily.
Will sighs, and lets Hannibal wrap him in his arms. Puts his hands on Duncan and Nigel as Hannibal kisses him. If he lets it keep going, he'll get wet again, spurring them to action. Hannibal rarely lets Will hold the upper hand for long.
Will hums in contentment, shivering as Hannibal kisses him in their palace. He rolls onto his side to face Hannibal, Duncan plastered against his back as Nigel continues to lazily mouth at his hip and thighs, teasing Will with points of warm sensation that make him twitch and tremble. He feels Duncan starting to react, one strong arm wrapping around Will's waist as Nigel's breathing grows ragged.
Hannibal laughs, good-naturedly, so affectionate. He holds Will by the back of his neck and kisses him until Will whines. No, they are definitely not going to leave the nest any time soon. Somehow, Will doesn't think any of them will protest.
He always takes care of them, after all, as a reward for being so good.