Chapter Text
Despite his choice of both lifestyle and mates, Will is, at heart, an Omega, and therefore succumbs to the biological impulses that comes with being one when they happen to rise. He was on suppressants and birth control before meeting Hannibal and bonding with him, and by the time he met Duncan, was only on birth control, so that he was able to go into heat as normal.
The first time, it was a symbolic gift. He made sure Hannibal was watching when Will took both orange pill bottles from the cabinet, deliberated, and then set one back without opening it. They didn't say anything, in that moment, and Hannibal didn't bring it up, though he purred through most of their breakfast and kept his nose close to Will's neck after, as though he could scent the changes immediately.
It was a gesture, for Hannibal, a show of trust and acceptance. Will never could or would fully surrender his right to choose to become a mother. Not that Hannibal ever pressured him, in that regard – for all the physical violations he has committed on his prey, Will knows lack of sexual consent appalls him.
Originally, being on suppressants was a matter of convenience. Will couldn't be out of commission and distracted in the middle of a case, nor did he see any appeal in having a heat when there was no one he trusted enough to share it with. Will did, however, trust Hannibal. He wanted to see the moment Hannibal's control snapped. He wondered if he could make Hannibal rut for him.
He could. He can.
Now, he has a regular cycle, one week every six months.
Still, somehow, it sneaks up on him every time.
Hannibal notices first, of course. He is the most attuned to Will, and has the most sensitive nose. When Will starts drinking more juice and eating more fruit, and when he notices Will lingering at the end of the aisle in the store that holds soft blankets and heat-friendly nesting supplies, it's like a glaring neon sign that Will is due to go into heat again soon. As though the sweetness in his scent and his more affectionate overtures are not in and of themselves a blatant clue.
Will's eyes shine when Hannibal takes his hand and leads him down the aisle, a smile on his face. "See anything you like?" he murmurs.
Will's cheeks go pink, and he huffs a somewhat strained laugh, even as his fingers dance along the edge of a thick brown fleece blanket, and his gaze lingers on another, this one blue, boasting to be large enough to completely burrito a man of his size as well as a mate within it. "Guess it's about that time, isn't it?" he asks. He hasn't ever quite gotten comfortable with the idea of going into heat – his are more ferocious than most, since he was on suppressants for so long, and Hannibal knows he doesn't particularly like the amount of time or higher function he loses while going through it.
Hannibal does not mock him for that. He would never. Instead, he rests a hand on the small of Will's back, easing the tense muscles and prompting Will's shoulders to slacken, lashes going low as the gold in his eyes, for a moment, flares brighter. "You have a few days," Hannibal says. Will nods. He doesn't begrudge Hannibal his predictions. Hannibal knows his body as well as Will does. It's comforting, for him, to hear that he has time, that it's not just some panicked mantra he can whisper to himself when the cramps start and the need grows.
Will turns, nuzzling against Hannibal's shoulder and breathing him in. "I don't need another blanket," he says, after a moment.
Hannibal's smile widens, as he rubs up Will's spine, and back down, feeling the tension leech from him in increments. He turns his head and kisses Will's wild hair. "I didn't ask if you needed one," he reminds Will. Even after all these years, Will still has trouble acting on his desires, sometimes. Not in bed, and certainly not in the house, everyone knows he rules the roost there as is Omega's right, but other times…
Will huffs again, lifting his head so he can nuzzle Hannibal's jaw, a soft purr rumbling in his throat. "The brown one," he murmurs. Hannibal takes it, understanding that Will wants him to mark it, first. He drags the blanket over his other cheek, kneading it in his hands, before he hands it to his mate. Will hugs it to his chest for the rest of the time they're in the store, his fingers twitching and squeezing the blanket as they gather the rest of the groceries and, now, additional supplies to keep them all fed and sated during Will's heat. The cashier reaches across the aisle to scan the tag so that Will doesn't have to surrender it, and Will smiles at the flare of approval in his Alpha's eyes when she does so.
Will helps him carry groceries inside. Nigel is on the porch, smoking. When he notices them coming home, he gets up to help. Will frowns. "Where's Duncan?" he asks, even as Nigel kisses his cheek and takes one of the bags from him.
"Upstairs, he had a call," Nigel replies. Will's frown deepens, but he bites his tongue. He'll go look for Duncan after. He doesn't like going too long without all of them touching him when he leaves the house, and now the background pang of desire for warm hands and long embraces has a reason: he's going into heat soon, so his instincts crave the touch of his Alphas, as much as he can get, so that they are primed and ready for him when his body finally gives up the ghost and falls off the deep end.
They load everything into the house and Will takes the blanket, heading upstairs and placing it in his nest. He spreads it out, smiling at the feel of the soft fleece, soothed by the addition of something fresh that he and his mates can mark and stain later.
He's tired, suddenly, which he knows to expect now. The prospect of sleeping in his nest, drenched in sunlight and holding promising warmth, is a tempting one, but he doesn't want to make his nest smell too much like him before he's ready, so he gets up and forces himself to make his way over to his bed, flopping down on it and kicking his shoes off like an afterthought. He wriggles up until his head is on the pillows and lazily yanks one edge of the blankets over him in a little cocoon.
He may have fallen asleep, or he's just drifting between the realms of semiconsciousness, when he senses eyes on him. He hums tiredly, breathing in. It's Duncan. He holds out a hand and makes a quiet sound of invitation, smiling when steps approach and the bed dips down. Duncan's hand goes to his and Will pulls him down to become his pillow, tucking the blanket over them both and purring gently when Duncan's hand cards through his hair.
"Hi," he sighs.
"Hello, love," Duncan replies, kissing his forehead. He breathes in. His arms tighten around Will as he, too, undoubtedly smells what Hannibal already sensed.
Will noses his way up blindly, until he feels the sting of Duncan's stubble. "Stay," he commands, slinging an arm around Duncan in turn and pressing as close as he's able. Duncan's low laugh warms him, sending pleasant pulses through his chest and lower stomach. His fingers never once alter their rhythm in Will's hair, his other hand petting slowly up and down Will's back.
Having Duncan's heartbeat steady beneath his ear is soothing, and Will purrs tiredly again, curled up and content. The scent of a happy Alpha is one he relishes, slightly different between the three he has claimed for himself. He can hear Nigel and Hannibal puttering around downstairs, preparing dinner, discussing the weather, whatever else it is they talk about when Duncan and Will aren't there.
He drifts off, dozing, knowing that he's perfectly safe in this house. He hears footsteps coming up the stairs again and makes a soft sound of complaint when Duncan's hand stops petting his hair. Hannibal's and Nigel's scent bloom in the warm air, prompting him to open his eyes to half mast, which is all he can manage.
Hannibal smiles, approaching him and crouching by the bed as Nigel climbs onto it behind Will. Nigel wraps an arm around him over the blanket, adding pressure and heat and weight. Will sighs. "Not yet." It's both a warning and a complaint, threatening them with dire consequences if anyone tries to move right now.
Hannibal's smile widens, eyes shining with affection, his fingers soft on Will's flushed cheek. "I need to milk you, darling," he reminds Will, causing Will to bite his lower lip and curl his fingers into the blankets, a simmering arousal making his lower back tense up. He opens his eyes wider and whines weakly, turning to nuzzle Hannibal's wrist.
He knows Hannibal is right. Hannibal and Nigel can rut for him, and they often do when Will goes into heat, but with Duncan's wounds and his age, he no longer has the same ability. They have found that they can help him, though, if Hannibal milks Will and gathers enough slick and come from him to give Duncan the hormonal boost he needs to keep up. It's a testament to the ferocity of Will's heat, that he needs three Alphas primed for him, to sate him through it. When he's in the thick of it, any moment without a knot and seed filling him up is painful.
Duncan makes a low sound, his hand flattening over the nape of Will's neck. "Not necessary," he rumbles. Will frowns, and blinks up at him. "I…have to go. Have a job. I'll probably miss it."
This is, clearly, not news to Nigel, as he doesn't react except to rumble soothingly at Will as Will shoves himself upright and fixes Duncan with an incredulous look. "You're leaving?" he demands, word a low, angry hiss. "No. You can't leave me."
Duncan's gaze is heavy, his mouth tilted down in a sad frown. "I'm sorry, love," he says, hurt flaring when Will sits up more and snaps his teeth together, baring them, rejecting his touch. "It can't wait." Will doesn't understand. He and Hannibal already helped Duncan with his employer, he was able to retire, there's no reason for him to leave now. This is the first time in the years they've been together that he has even spoken of a 'job'.
Will glares down at his chest, the tension between the four of them ramping up like an unpleasant itch on his spine. "Get out," he commands, throwing the blanket off and shoving them all away. "Leave me alone."
"Will -."
"Get out," Will snaps, his Voice compelling them all to obey. Duncan sighs, rising from the bed and leaving the room first. Nigel follows quickly behind, taking Duncan's hand. Will's eyes narrow on the gesture. "Wait," he says, right as Hannibal approaches the threshold. They stop, and turn to him. The hope in their eyes makes him feel vicious. "Hannibal can stay."
Nigel winces, but nods with a low grumble of discontent, closing the door behind him and Duncan. Will waits until their footsteps recede, the anger dulling with it, leaving him with that terribly achy feeling again. He whines softly, prompting Hannibal to come to him. Hannibal sits down and nuzzles Will's hair, cupping his face.
"Did you know?" Will whispers, looking up and meeting his Alpha's eyes.
Hannibal shakes his head. "No, darling, I swear." He's being honest. He has no reason to lie to Will, after all. He pets Will's hair, rumbling in a way meant to soothe, but Will doesn't want to be soothed. The air holds all of them now, grating on him. Even now his body begs him to summon them all back, tells him that he should take advantage of having all three of them with him while he still can. He feels nauseous.
Hannibal watches him, those intelligent eyes of his raking over Will's face, down his tense shoulders, to the grip of his white knuckles in the sheets. "I can find out," he says. Will feels, gently, a nudge in his head, Hannibal summoning him into their shared mental space, inviting Will to use his eyes.
Will smiles. "Yeah," he breathes, meeting Hannibal's eyes. "Find out."
Hannibal nods. He tilts his head, gaze dropping to Will's lips. Will debates, for a moment, rejecting him too. Corporal punishment goes a long way to ensure Alphas behave themselves – they would be all the more eager to cure Will's bad mood if he's not playing favorites. As close to heat as Will is, he won't be able to deny any of them for much longer.
He lays back down so that he doesn't fall to temptation. Hannibal smiles, as he always does in the face of Will's cruelty, and rises from Will's bed, leaving the room without another word. Will closes his eyes, following Hannibal's line of sight as he makes his way to Nigel's bedroom. The stench of hurting Alpha stings Hannibal's nose, and Will rubs his nose against his own wrist in reaction to it.
Nigel looks up when Hannibal enters, his eyes dark. "Duncan, where are you going?" Hannibal asks, closing the door behind him as though that will keep Will from overhearing. Will doesn't know if the other two ever suspect Hannibal when he's letting Will use his eyes like this, but he doesn't particularly care. They will seek each other for solace when their Omega sends them away.
Duncan looks up as well. His pain radiates from him like heat from a wound. It makes Will curl up tighter on himself, a terrible ache in his chest. He hates being cruel to Duncan. "One of my old colleagues is in Valencia," he tells Hannibal gruffly. "He's the type to hold a grudge. Heard whispers he's been looking for me."
Understanding blooms in Hannibal's mind along with Will's. He's defending his nest, and his mates, compelled to do away with a perceived threat. Will feels Hannibal looking to him, internally, as though asking Will if that is a good enough excuse. Will sends a pulse of dissatisfaction back. "We are more than capable of dealing with any threat to our pack," Hannibal reasons calmly. "Surely there is no reason to put it off a little longer. If he is looking for you, he won't stay hidden for long."
Duncan shakes his head. "I need to deal with him now," he snarls, red shining. "You don't get it, Hannibal."
Nigel puts a hand on Duncan's shoulder, rumbling soothingly. "I'm aware that I don't understand," Hannibal says, stepping forward, "that's why I'm asking."
"We have a lot of history," Duncan says gruffly. "I'd feel better knowing he's dead."
Without being physically there, Will doesn't get the influx of emotion that comes with it, with his empathy. Hannibal can't give him that, merely his own observations. So he doesn't get any vision of why, exactly, Duncan despises this other man so much, or how he can see the other person as such a big threat that the four of them cannot handle. He hears Hannibal sigh, feels the rise and fall of his chest.
Hannibal's eyes go to Nigel. "You knew, I presume," he says.
Nigel's upper lip twitches back. "Heard about it while you were gone," he confirms.
It stings, to know that they both knew, that they weren't going to say anything. Would they have said anything, if Hannibal hadn't brought up milking Will for Duncan? Probably not. He would have gone into heat and been left without, without Duncan's soft, halting purr and his big hands and his scent. Will curls up tighter, a sound like a pitiful whine, tinged with anger, slipping from his mouth. How dare they. Their love, their bodies, their knots are Will's, to take as he sees fit. To deny him even one of them makes anger rise up like a howling beast.
Hannibal sighs again, absorbing Will's anger easily as he goes and sits down on Duncan's other side, resting a hand on his thigh. "I can induce Will's heat quicker," he suggests. "That way you'll be here with him, when he needs you."
"It won't take that long," Duncan says quietly. "A day at most, I swear. I just have to wait for the right time, when I know he'll be where I need him to be, and when his guard is down."
Valencia isn't far, Will knows. But if Duncan insists on that, it means he already knows where this other man is. His location, the scenario around his settlement. Which means Will can find that out. A plan starts to form, half made of shadow. Hannibal's attention leans towards him, intrigued, and Will quickly stamps it down and hides it away.
Will bites his lower lip, wincing and rubbing his stomach as he feels the first preheat cramp slice its way through him. It's like his body knows that his Alpha is leaving him, and is trying to throw himself into heat faster to get him to stay. The thought makes him panic slightly – Hannibal said he has a few days. If Will goes into heat he won't be able to get ahead of Duncan and force him to stay home. He'll leave. He might get himself killed and none of them would be the wiser.
"Hannibal," he calls, both out loud and in his head, loud enough for them all to tense up at the sound of his voice. Hannibal is on his feet immediately, rushing back to his room. Will rolls onto his back, whining softly and spreading his legs at the sight of his Alpha. "It's starting," he says, urgency tinging his voice.
Hannibal nods, eyes darkening as he smells the preheat soaking Will's scent. He shrugs off his suit jacket and approaches Will's bed. In the bottom drawer of the nightstand is the sheath and hollow knotting toy he uses to milk Will with, as well as the gathering tray. Will rolls onto his hands and knees with another soft groan, pain and arousal swirling in his stomach as Hannibal takes them all out.
Hannibal kneels beside him, drops a hand to Will's nape and kisses his hair. "I'm here, darling," he whispers roughly, before he helps Will divest himself of his clothes. He never fucks Will during the milking process, since it usually has the opposite effect, instead of Will producing more slick he gets too plugged up by Hannibal's thick knot to leak until it goes down, and pure slick has a better effect on Duncan than Hannibal's come.
He sets the tray between Will's knees and carefully lubes up the sheath, sliding it into place on Will's cock and turning on the dull vibrations, that run up and down the sheath like the grip of a hand. Will whimpers loudly, burying his face in his pillow as he starts to sweat, trembling from head to toe. Will groans as Hannibal slides the knotting toy between his thighs, using the slick already drying on his fevered skin to get it wet enough to push into Will.
Will hates the knotting toy with a burning passion. It can't come inside him and it's not as big as any of his Alphas – Hannibal likely chose that on purpose, because he's a possessive son of a bitch sometimes. He works the toy into and out of Will with languid thrusts, making Will's toes curl as the toy ruts along his prostate, encouraging him to produce more slick in an effort to entice this stupid plastic thing into knotting him.
He moans weakly, shaking his head as Hannibal slowly but firmly guides the knot in. "I know, darling," Hannibal murmurs in sympathy, a hand on the small of Will's back and rubbing the sore muscles as Will is worked mercilessly to orgasm, filling up the sheath and soaking into the toy. He can hear his slick leaking out of the toy's hollow base, dripping onto the tray for Hannibal to gather and give to Duncan later.
Will turns his head, whining for a kiss that Hannibal eagerly grants him, moving carefully so that he doesn't disrupt the placement of the instruments and can still kiss Will how he needs. His hand is warm and solid on the nape of Will's neck. When Will's orgasm finishes, he takes the sheath off and empties it onto the tray, then removes the knotting toy. Will isn't in heat yet, so he still needs a recovery period, especially without any of his Alphas fucking him or touching him and getting him hard again.
Hannibal sets the tray down on the floor, the toys beside it, and pets Will as he comes down from the unsatisfactory orgasm. Will slumps, teeth bared, growling into the pillow. Then, he says, "Valencia."
Hannibal's hand goes still, for just a moment. "Yes," he replies.
Will hums. "You know what I want to do."
"Yes."
"You're going to let me." It's not a question. Hannibal doesn't make a habit of denying Will what he wants. Still, Will can feel the discontent radiating from him – concern for Will, unhappiness at the fact that Will is absolutely going to do whatever the fuck he wants, with or without Hannibal's permission.
Finally, he sighs. "Just promise me you'll be safe."
Will turns his head, to see Hannibal gazing down at him, loving and affectionate as always, though his eyes are dark with concern. He manages a weak smile and nuzzles Hannibal's thigh. "I will," he soothes, touching Hannibal's chest. Hannibal smiles, at that.
"How are you feeling?"
"Better," Will says. He doesn't need to be milked constantly, only when the cramps get really bad. Hannibal nods, and stands, gathering the tray to clean the toys and harvest everything else while Will pulls his clothes back on. Will sits up, gaining Hannibal's attention again. "Don't let them know you're milking me," he says sharply. Hannibal tilts his head. "Give it to both of them."
Hannibal nods, once, pressing his lips together as his eyes go to the door, dark with consideration. "It'll be easiest to trace the location of the call," he muses out loud. Will nods, biting his lower lip and curling up tighter. He wishes that he was in his nest, suddenly, but he's too tired to move. "I'm sure Duncan will have information on his phone as well."
Which means sneaking a look at it while Duncan is unaware. Will would be the most thorough distraction for that, even though internally he rebels against the idea of rewarding Duncan when he's still going to abandon them all. He lifts his head and draws Hannibal's gaze again. "Send him to me?" he says sweetly.
Hannibal smiles, coming forward to kiss him one last time, before he takes his leave. Will hears their low voices exchanged, then heavy steps approaching his room. He pushes himself to a sitting position as Duncan opens the door and closes it behind him.
Duncan is silent a moment. Then, "Will -."
"I don't want to talk about it," Will murmurs, coating his voice saccharine-sweet and reaching for his Alpha. "Just…hold me for a little while?" Duncan approaches, eyes flickering barely red at the scent of Will post-orgasm. If he assumes Will let Hannibal fuck him after dismissing Duncan and Nigel, Will has no desire to correct him. He climbs back into the bed and Will plasters himself on top of his Alpha, nuzzling him softly. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. I was scared."
In his head, he sees Hannibal steal Duncan's phone and hide it among his milking toys. Nigel isn't around, likely gone back outside to smoke as he does when tensions run high in the house.
Duncan turns so they're on their sides, facing each other. "I'm sorry, love," he says. He sounds so woefully apologetic and sincere. It's the kind of sentiment that would make honeybees forgive him for destroying their hive, but Will is not honey, he has always been salt and venom beneath a candy coating. "I'll have it all done with as quickly as I'm able, I swear."
"I just…promise me you'll call one of us when you're on your way back?" Will begs. "I can't stand the thought of not knowing if you're okay. If something goes wrong…"
"Nothing will go wrong," Duncan assures him, petting Will's hair from his face and neck. "This guy is a mean son of a bitch, but he's not smart, and he tends to work alone. I won't be overrun." Will forces himself to smile again, to lean in and kiss Duncan until his stubble makes Will's lips sting. Duncan purrs for him, halting and rough. "Fuck, you smell good."
Will hums, cupping Duncan's face with both hands and pressing himself closer. There's another ache starting low in his belly, a pre-cramp of pending heat that he desperately wants to sate despite his emotional turmoil. Or perhaps because of it – everyone knows a good way to settle an overwhelmed Omega is to fuck the thoughts right out of their pretty little heads.
Duncan breathes in, shuddering beneath him, big hands sliding down and pawing at Will's ass to feel how slick he's getting. "Will…" He's starting to pant, red flickering in his eyes as he senses Will's receptiveness. Will ends the kiss abruptly, pushing himself up and straddling Duncan's thighs.
"Suck me off," he demands, ripping his shirt over his head and to one side before fumbling with his jeans. Duncan rises to help him, shoving Will's jeans and underwear down to his thighs before hauling Will up to his face and letting Will sink into his mouth. Will grabs his hair with both hands, groaning in delight as Duncan takes him all the way in, until his mustache is pressed right up to Will's pubic hair. "Fuck." Will grabs the headboard with one hand to hold himself steady, rocking so his cock slides in and out of his mate's mouth. "That's good, Duncan, fuck, that's so good." His toes curl, heat swimming low in his stomach, arousal skyrocketing. He hisses when Duncan shoves two thick fingers into his slick hole, curling down immediately so Will feels pressure inside and out. Will gasps for breath, wishing that he had more hands on him, more inside him, soft lips and low purrs and heavy weight on his back to hold him down and make him take. Will trembles as he comes, shoving himself deep so that Duncan is forced to swallow it all.
He goes still, panting, forehead against the headboard staining it with sweat as he watches himself soften in Duncan's mouth and slip free, coated with saliva. The orgasm tempered his anger, but it will take much more to make it disappear completely.
And Will is no longer feeling quite so generous.
He moves again and pulls his underwear and jeans back up, fastening them as he flops on his back. "You can go," he snaps, leaving no room for argument. Duncan swallows, eyeing him, and lunges for Will, taking his wrists and pinning them down by his head as he kisses Will deeply, sharing the taste of him. Will growls at him, biting down on his tongue as he struggles beneath Duncan. "Go away!" he snarls. "I'll call Hannibal and Nigel to haul you out of here if you don't leave."
Duncan sighs, but doesn't force himself further on Will. "I'm sorry, Will," he says, and he sounds so sad, Will's heart aches for him. But his Alphas must learn – Will's word is law, his pleasure paramount. Any offense against him by one of them will not be forgiven lightly.
Will rolls his fists and snaps his teeth together. "Go away, Duncan," he says, suddenly so tired. Duncan sighs again, but obeys, pushing himself off of Will and off of the bed and taking his leave of the room. It's suddenly so cold, Will swallows back a whine of loss when the door closes, and buries himself back in his blankets. He just wants to sleep.
"Duncan is angry, darling."
Will smirks to himself, crouching low on the top of a tall building opposite the hotel where he knows Duncan's mark is. In truth, he was given a larger grace period than he expected. It's the middle of the morning and he's surprised that Duncan took this long to realize he was gone.
Hannibal must have covered for him.
"Good," he mutters into their mind palace, squinting through binoculars into the hotel room across the street. He knows from Duncan's file which man he's looking for. Mal Turner, renowned drug runner and sex trafficker, once one of Duncan's colleagues who turned dirty after the death of their boss. It looks like the man is throwing a party, or has a deal going down – there are three Alphas in addition to the target, all of them packing if the bulges in their suit jackets are anything to go by. There are also women and Omegas, clad in tassels and underwear if they're wearing anything at all. He sighs to himself, debating whether he should wait until the room is more clear and there are fewer casualties – and witnesses.
"We're on our way," Hannibal whispers to him, drawing Will's attention. His voice is close, as though he's standing right behind Will, purring the words into his ear. Will bites his lower lip to stifle a sound as Hannibal's touch warms his shoulder before fading away. "An hour, maybe less."
Will nods. He doesn't have the time he'd hoped for. "How are they?"
"I've been dosing them as you requested," Hannibal informs him, a vague absentness in his thoughts as he pays attention to the other Alphas. Nigel's furious ranting and Duncan's silent, deadly anger come to Will as though on a sharp wind. Combined with Will's heat, it makes his hands shake and his knees go weak, instinct telling him to submit to them and appease them as he only knows how during his heat. But he must hold fast and remain strong. He will take care of this for Duncan, and remind him that there is nothing that might stand against them that they could not handle. Together.
Will lowers the binoculars and checks his weapons – he has a sniper, just in case his recon proved that there were too many hostiles for him to safely move in, and he has one of Nigel's pistols with an altered magazine to fit more bullets. He doesn't intend to go in swinging, he's an Omega after all, and he should be able to work his way in without raising suspicion.
He'll have to leave the sniper behind, its case is too large and obvious for him to bring it in, plus there's no way he'd have time or space to make use of it. He tells Hannibal its location, just in case he's too lost to heat by the time they come collect him for him to articulate where it is, or retrieve it.
He gets an answering pulse of acknowledgement, and a fond, "Happy hunting, darling. Do be careful."
Will smiles to himself. Hannibal is the only one of his mates to really understand how deadly Will can be. Duncan fought with him against Duncan's employer, but at the end of the day, Will's role in that was relatively small, and he's sure it was overshadowed by the frantic fuckfest that ensued right after. Nigel has never seen Will kill, nor borne witness to him on a hunt. It will be quite the awakening for both of his newer mates.
Will rises, checking to make sure his scent is pure and unfiltered, neither marred by suppressants, deadeners, nor the scents of his mates. Hannibal's mating scar is the only one directly visible but Will has been growing his hair long, and the nape of his neck is hidden well enough.
Either way, for the role he's playing, a mating mark wouldn't be amiss – it's well-known that Alpha pimps bite and mark their Omega escorts to prevent them running off with another Alpha or getting ideas into their heads. No one wants used goods, they say.
He carefully goes down the fire escape of this building and walks to the hotel, making his way inside up to the penthouse suite. It opens directly into a lavish foyer, ostentatious and ridiculous in his opinion. There is a woman in the front that looks bored out of her skull, likely one of the senior Madames whose responsibility it is to make sure everyone gets to and from their clients safely.
She looks up and arches a single, thin red brow as he approaches. "I don't know you," she says, squinting in suspicion.
Will ducks his head, and uses his trembling hands and flushed features to his advantage, shifting his weight and feeling slick leaking from him already. The stench of Alpha inside is nauseating, but he'll need to get over that if this is to work.
"I was sent as a gift," he says quietly. "A…heat present. I'm about to start."
The Madame's cold eyes soften in sympathy. She tuts and shakes her head, getting to her feet. "Have some water, honey," she says, patting his cheek and gesturing to a little stand near her with a water cooler, full of ice water with cucumber and lemon slices. Will smiles at her gratefully, affecting a nervous and needy air, as she walks into the second room and calls the attention of her flock.
"What's going on?" Will assumes that's Mal's voice. He's American, which somehow surprises Will. He shakes it off. "We're not done here!"
"You've been sent a heat present, Mister Turner," the Madame says coolly, as Omegas and women begin to gather at the doorway. The Omegas regard Will with looks of pity, shaking their heads at him as though wondering why he's there. Will understands – like this, he smells fertile and desperate, like some poor thing that has nowhere else to go, and will surely suffer at the hands of Turner and his friends. Will avoids their eyes and hides behind his hair to lower the chance of them recognizing him later, when and if anyone questions them about Turner's fate. "He's just arrived."
"Oh, really now?" Turner's voice is thick with glee. The rest of the conversation is too quiet for Will to hear under the rustle of the women and Omegas donning their clothes and filing towards the elevator. Will stays back, kneading restlessly at his stomach, which is suddenly sour with nausea. He's going to need to move fast, he doesn't know how he'll react if one of these Alphas puts their hands on him. "Thanks for the entertainment, Miss Webb. Have a good night."
"You as well." Webb comes back in, herding her little congregation towards the elevator and giving Will one last look. She approaches him and hands him a card. "If you ever want a different way of life," she says. "It's not glamorous, but we don’t do heat presents, at least."
Will is oddly touched by the gesture. He smiles thinly and tucks it in his pocket. "Thank you, Ma'am."
She nods, then leaves with the others. Will sucks in a breath, closes his eyes for a long moment, and then walks into the room.
Turner is on a couch, wide enough to fit four and thickly padded, a soft off-white color with gold accents on the armrests and cushions. The table in front of him is glass and wrought iron, the curtains gold, the carpet white. It's going to be a bitch to clean all this, and Will makes another note to have Hannibal add a very generous tip to the hotel cleaning staff once he's done here.
"Hello there," Mal says, gaining Will's attention. He's about Duncan's age, his head shaved and a thick salt and pepper beard going down to his chest. The other three are younger, generic like Matrix Agent extras, closer to Will's age. Mal offers a hand and Will steps forward slowly, but makes sure his trembling is visible. "There's no need to be afraid, little thing. Not gonna hurt you too bad, promise."
Will swallows, and laughs nervously, tucking his hair behind his ear. "I'm sorry, I…" He clears his throat. "I wasn't expecting an audience."
Mal arches a brow, and turns to his lackeys. "Give us some privacy why don't you?" he snaps sharply, his Alpha voice like a sledgehammer to Will's skull that makes his ears ring.
Frantically, Will seeks Hannibal out; "How far away are you?"
"Twenty minutes," Hannibal replies immediately. "Nigel is driving very quickly."
Will quickly relays the address again, though Hannibal already saw it, and adds; "Penthouse suite. Three guards, armed with at least pistols. They'll be outside." Will steps to one side, ducking his head shyly as they sniff him and leer at him as they walk by. "I'm alone with Turner."
Hannibal's discontented rumble makes Will whine. He never likes making his Alphas angry, even when it's for a just cause. He hears the elevator ding but, in his distraction, he didn't notice Mal moving. He startles at the feeling of big, callused hands on his hips and that scratchy beard shoved right up to his throat.
"The fuck is this?" Mal demands, pulling Will's hair away to reveal Hannibal's mating mark. He chuckles lowly. "Can't be having this, little thing. I'm gonna reopen it for you, stay still."
"No!" Will snaps, shoving him away with a snarl. Mal laughs and grabs him, yanking him back by his clothes and crushing their bodies together, his cock already rutting against Will like it's trying to fuck him through his clothes. "Get off me!"
"You've got some spirit," Mal mutters, ripping Will's shirt in half. "Gonna cure you of that real soon -. What the fuck?"
His action revealed Will's gun, and Will doesn't have time to think. He can't afford to let Mal disarm him or get his hands on him again. He can see it, clear as day: Mal reaching for his own weapon, holding it to Will's head. The other three lackeys rushing back in and holding Will down while Mal strips him and rapes him, letting the others have their turn once Will is suitably broken in.
He tastes bile.
He grabs his gun and shoots, point blank into Mal's stomach.
The Alpha stumbles back with a loud yell, gripping his bleeding stomach as Will shoots again, this time aiming between his eyes. He hears the lackeys running back in and dives behind the couch, gritting his teeth as it's immediately filled with bullet holes and the air explodes with cotton and feathers.
Fuck.
The scent of blood is thick and clogs Will's throat, staining his hands and making his grip slick on the trigger. He clenches his jaw, steadying himself, and holds his breath so he can listen. They aren't pacing around, they know he's armed. Mal's body is too far away for Will to safely reach for the other man's gun, so he only has his pistol to hand.
"Hannibal," he whispers into their mind palace.
"Ten minutes, darling," Hannibal says, strained and tense.
Fuck. There's nothing else for it.
Will dares to peek over the back of the couch and immediately ducks down with a curse when another bullet goes flying past his head. These guys have good enough aim that he needs to be careful. Another bullet shatters a vase behind him, leaving large glittering pieces of glass on the floor. He eyes them, biting his lower lip, and reaches for a large one.
He rears up and throws it as hard as he can at one of the Alphas, pleased when it manages to catch him in the face. The Alpha yells, clutching his bleeding cheek, and Will quickly shoots one of the others in the distraction. He doesn't see where the bullet hits, but the resulting grunt and thump sounds very final.
"Get the fuck out here, you little bitch!" one of the Alphas yells. From the pained sound of his voice, it's the one Will hit with the glass. The Alpha timber of it settles heavy in the base of his skull, but Will resists it. He's close to heat, he can't keep it up for long, but he also has three powerful Alphas as his mates, wearing their marks, and his loyalty will not be overcome so easily.
He hears footsteps staggering around towards the couch, looks up and shoots just as a face comes into view. The Alpha yells, shooting near his shoulder, close enough that Will's ears ring, temporarily overwhelming his hearing. He snarls to himself and crawls around the armrest of the couch, looking up from the unexpected place to quickly shoot the Alpha that deafened him in the back. The one with the bleeding face is squinting around the room, trying to find him. Will shoots him, too, right between the eyes.
The Alpha on the couch is still breathing. Will stands on shaky legs, panting through his open mouth in the hopes that the scent of blood and gunpowder won't overwhelm him, but it doesn't do the trick. So high on adrenaline and near so many Alphas, with the room stinking of sex and alcohol and blood, his instincts are in overdrive right now. Slick drips down his legs in excess, his vision is blurry, and all he wants to do is curl up on the floor and be with his mates.
He pushes past it. He's stronger than this. He can do better than this.
He goes up to the last Alpha, hauls him up by his hair, and shoots him right in his nape, instantly killing him.
The body slumps right as the elevator doors ding open.
Will registers the scents of his mates a split second before he whirls on them and stops himself shooting some more, not at all confident that Turner didn't have some extra helpers waiting in the wings. Duncan is leading the charge, red blazing in his iris, Hannibal and Nigel flanking him.
They stop at the entryway, taking in the scene. They're all panting, like they sprinted up here, three Alphas primed for a fight and finding no enemy except their distraught mate who is still holding a gun. Nigel is the one who sees it first, his nostrils flaring and jaw clenching. Will can see the debate in his eyes, whether he can afford to rush Will and disarm him before Will does something rash.
As if he would ever hurt them.
They're so far away, too far away. He wants, needs, them near him, wiping the scent of that awful Alpha away, and cleaning him of blood, and putting him back in the place he belongs – below them and beneath them, taking whatever they want to give him.
Will drops the gun, puts his bloody hands in his hair, and whines.
The noise breaks the spell. "What the fuck were you thinking?" That's Nigel, who approaches him first, pawing at Will's bare chest and bloody hair to make sure he's not hurt. "You could have gotten yourself fucking killed, Will!"
"I -." Words escape him. His Alphas are here, but there's no nest, there's no scent of them. Will is so cold and it all feels so wrong. He collapses to his knees, then onto his hands. "Please. Please."
A hand wraps in his hair, powerful and merciless, and tugs him upright, before he's thrown onto the couch right beside the dead Alpha's body. Duncan towers over him like a god, a snarling mass of rage that makes Will want to curl up and hide away.
"You came here, smelling like you do, and you let him put his hands on you," he says. He rips Will's shirt off the rest of the way and then follows with his jeans, his shoes, his socks and underwear, leaving Will a trembling, naked mess on the blood-stained and bullet-ridden couch. Duncan hauls him up again, then around, throwing him over the back of it. Will barely has time to recover before he feels Duncan's hands on his hips, and suddenly his cock, shoving all the way into Will in one thrust.
Will screams, clawing at the couch, torn between the desire to fight the sudden stretch and get away, and to submit to the pressure inside him, finally dulling the ache that's been steadily building for two days now. Duncan fucks him hard and brutal, like he intends to break Will apart at the center, his hands bruising Will's hips with crushing force.
"Fucking stink of them," Nigel hisses from somewhere by Will's head. He yanks on Will's hair, making Will cry out again only to have his mouth stuffed with Nigel's cock too, using him just as roughly as Duncan is. Will sobs, pawing at Nigel's thigh, begging for mercy he knows will not come. He ran from his Alphas in the beginning of his heat, he was so cruel to them, defied and denied them, and now they're claiming rightful ownership of his body.
Will whines around the thick length in his mouth, tears falling freely down his cheeks as he surrenders, letting himself be used as he deserves. The plateau doesn't last long – there's movement to his side, Hannibal removing the body of the dead Alpha and taking his place. Will can only see him in his periphery, but he can feel Hannibal's concern and displeasure like physical stains on his skin.
He reaches, and Hannibal bats his hand away, making Will whine again.
Hannibal reaches below Will, pinching his nipples with enough force to make him yelp, completely ignoring Will's cock, which is red and hard and dripping onto the couch. Nigel snarls, fisting both hands in Will's hair, and shoves himself deep, holding his cock in Will's throat as Will spasms around him and tries to breathe. There's no knot yet, Nigel just wants to punish him, he's somehow awakened all of their more violent natures and they have decided, as one, to take it out on their Omega.
Were Will in his right mind, he might relish the idea, but in heat he craves intimacy and gentleness, the more insidious cruelty of overstimulation, dirty whispered words of praise, petting hands and slow languid thrusts that torture him with the desire to be knotted and bred.
He won't be getting that, today. Not for a while, at least.
One of Hannibal's hands curves around his throat and squeezes the bulge of Nigel's cock, making Will choke and jerk in their arms, trying to fight for air. Nigel merely snarls at him, and slaps Will's cheek so hard it feels like it rattles his brain inside his skull.
"You'll stay fucking still if you know what's good for you," he threatens lowly. "Arrogant little bitch, you clearly need to be put in your fucking place if you thought this kind of stunt wasn't going to have consequences."
It's a testament to how Hannibal is feeling that he doesn't even admonish Nigel for calling Will a bitch. He rarely tolerates it in his presence, otherwise.
Will sobs, whining loudly as he feels himself start to go limp, blacking out from lack of oxygen. A second before he's sure he's going to pass out, Duncan abruptly grabs his wrists with clawed hands and wrenches them behind Will's back, and Nigel's cock slips out of his mouth.
Will gasps for air, whimpering, though there's hardly any sound from his abused throat. "I'm sorry," he tries to say, vaguely aware of movement through his blurred vision. "I'm sorry – Hannibal, please -."
And then Hannibal is there, pulling Will's thighs apart so Will can straddle him. He's naked, at some point they all stripped off their shirts. Will wants to nuzzle him, to kiss him, to put his hands on Hannibal's chest and be held, but he doesn't get that.
What he gets, instead, is more pressure at his slick hole. Will chokes on his next breath, shaking his head in panic. "I can't -."
"You can and you fucking will," Nigel snarls. Hannibal's hands flatten on Will's bruised hips, line him up, and shove him down so he's taking both Hannibal and Duncan at once. Will screams, convulsing around them, his face buried in Hannibal's neck as he sobs and tries to catch his breath, only for Nigel to yank on his hair and plug his mouth up again.
Duncan's teeth graze Will's shoulder, leaving savage bites and welts behind as Hannibal marks up the side of his throat as well. "Not marked enough," Duncan mutters, holding Will's wrists so tightly that the delicate bones grind together and his fingers feel numb. "Gonna bruise every inch of you."
It's so much sensation and pressure inside him from both ends, Will can't keep up. His head is a cacophony of feeling and need and words he can't speak. He can't even reach Hannibal in his thoughts, let alone form enough coherent thought to beg for mercy.
At some point, he goes limp again. He can't fight it, not when all three of them are hurting him and using him so thoroughly, like he's nothing but a doll for them to use for their own pleasure. He's not hard anymore, in too much pain to enjoy the friction he's getting on Hannibal's stomach. The heat is rearing up in him now, fierce and desperate, too stupid to understand that he's in pain and more focused on yes, three strong Alphas to breed with, yes, more, more, yes.
Nigel pulls out with a curse, holding Will's head up as he strokes himself quickly, and Will flinches at the first splash of hot come on his face, in his hair, dripping down his nose and lashes and over his tender mouth. Nigel doesn't let him move away, grip so tight his scalp stings. Still, it means Will can breathe, which is a small mercy.
He moans, wincing as Duncan takes the opportunity to bite down hard enough on his shoulder that he breaks skin.
"You like this, you fucking whore?" Nigel demands, smearing his softening cock all over Will's face. It should feel degrading, but it doesn't – Will learned long ago that pain and pleasure were always going to be a complex vortex for him, waters too muddied and desires too strong to linger on the right and wrong of it all. "So desperate for cock you'll let us do anything."
Will whines.
"Were you going to let him fuck you?"
"No," Will hisses.
He gets a slap for that, just as harsh as the last.
"I don't believe you."
"I killed them all, didn't I?" Will snarls, glaring up at Nigel through his blurry vision, still grey at the edges from lack of oxygen, severely compromised by all the come and sweat and tears dripping down his face. "For Duncan. For all of you. So that you'd be with me."
Unbidden, beneath him, Hannibal purrs.
Duncan's brutal thrusts stutter, the pressure of his knot sending shards of pain all up Will's spine from his already abused rim. Hannibal kisses Will's bleeding throat, warm and open-mouthed, and Will sobs again.
"I did it for us," he mewls, fingers curling as Duncan finally releases his wrists. They flop limply on Hannibal's chest, twitching restlessly. "I just can't -. You can't leave me. I'd die before I let you leave me."
"Oh, Will." Duncan's voice is hoarse, the scent thick with rut. He can't stop trying to force his knot inside Will and Will doesn't want him to stop. He'll take it, anything they want to give him. Punishments and rewards all end the same way.
Will turns his head and whines when Duncan kisses him, smearing Nigel's come between their lips. Hannibal spreads Will's ass apart, gently massaging his rim to get him to relax as best he can. Duncan will not be stopped, and it's unlikely Hannibal will stop either. Will opens his mouth for Duncan's tongue and clutches at Hannibal's shoulder as best he can.
"I'm not sorry," he manages to say. "That was a lie. I'd do it again."
Duncan smiles. "I know."
Hannibal pulls Duncan flush to Will's ass, working his own cock in smooth little thrusts to help ease the way in as Duncan's knot swells and locks them together. It can't be comfortable for Hannibal, but he doesn't seem to mind. Will shudders, letting out a hoarse cry at the stretch, entire body trembling and spasming like he's having a seizure.
"There we go," Hannibal purrs, nuzzling Will's throat. "Take him for me, darling, that's a good boy. Let him fill you and claim you properly."
Will isn't sure what to call the sound he makes. It certainly isn't human.
Duncan grunts, knuckles white against the couch on either side of Hannibal's and Will's shoulders, and Will makes one more of those desperate, broken, inhuman sounds as he feels Duncan start to come inside him. It cools the fires of his heat, soothes the unbearable stretch and emptiness, makes him feel warm and sated even though he hasn't come and he's still in so much pain.
Hannibal growls softly, still grinding inside of Will as well, and Will gasps when he feels Hannibal's knot trying to breach him too. Duncan's is deeper, there's technically room, but Will is so full and he doesn't know if he can take it, it'll need to be shallow, it won't be deep enough, and he -.
"Let me in, darling," Hannibal purrs into his ear, "or I'll make you."
Will groans weakly, nodding twice, his head limp as Hannibal's knot forces itself inside him, stretching him beyond limit, before Hannibal starts to come as well. Will is so full, so heavy suddenly, the hurt pushing into another sensation entirely that's floaty and not altogether of this world.
He feels a warm hand on his red cheek and tilts into it, knowing from the calluses and scent that it's Nigel's hand. Nigel pets his hair, rumbling soothingly to Will. He touches his thumb to Will's lower lip, prompting them to fall open. Will moans as Nigel feeds Will his cock again, half-hard and thickening quickly in his mouth. He doesn't thrust, just moves Will's head in lazy back and forth motions, using Will like a glorified fleshlight with no real urgency.
Will settles, content to hurt and ache and bear it all, until Hannibal's hand wraps around his cock.
He jerks off Nigel's cock, shaking his head. "No, please, I can't take it. Don't make me come, Hannibal, please."
Hannibal laughs, the motion jostling both knots inside him and radiating pain through every cell Will has. "Nigel, do keep him quiet for me."
Nigel grins, eyes glowing red and bright, as he takes Will's head in both hands and forces his cock into Will's mouth again. Will whimpers, choking on the cock in his mouth, struggling weakly between the weight of his two other Alphas as they hold him down and touch him just the way he likes; gentle fingers grazing his hipbones and nipples, lips at his nape, mouthing at his pulse, unbearable pressure inside of him that is going to drive him insane.
Nigel holds Will's jaw wide open so he can force his knot inside, plugging Will's completely full, and Hannibal makes him come a moment later. Will can only cry silently, shoulders heaving as he tries to breathe and every nerve ending lit on fire with pleasure-pain.
Hannibal doesn't stop. He continues to stroke Will, forcing his other hand behind Will's balls and against his perineum as he continues to touch his cock and forces him to get hard again. Will is pretty sure he's dying at this point, his body too sore from clenching on two giant knots, his lungs feels like they're clogged with come instead of air.
If he wasn't on birth control…
The thought is enough to make him come again, and finally get the strength in his hands to grab Hannibal's and force them away. Hannibal smiles against Will's throat, absently licking the drips of come Nigel left there, along the blood his and Duncan's teeth shed.
Duncan's and Hannibal's knots go down at almost the same time, Nigel a minute after, leaving Will so achingly empty he can only collapse and whimper, grabbing at them as much as he can. He's shuddering like he's going into shock – maybe he is – and he can't think past anything but no and Alpha and don't leave.
"We're right here, love," Duncan murmurs, making Will realize he was voicing those thoughts out loud. Will swallows harshly, tasting so much come in his mouth and feeling so much drip out of him he may as well be made of it. He's been split open, he wouldn't be surprised if there's blood mixing with his slick and come leaking out of him, his thighs shake and his fingers keep twitching, he can't control his breathing, his words, he just needs…
He just needs his mates. Please, Alpha, please.
Hannibal cradles Will to his chest, and there's room on either side of him for Duncan and Nigel to sit, petting and nuzzling Will as much as he likes. Will can't speak, can barely think. Thankfully, there's absolutely no scent of foreign Alphas in the room anymore – all he knows is his mates, all he cares about is them.
He wipes his face on Hannibal's shoulder, focusing on returning his breathing to something a little more even and waiting for his heartbeat to slow as he sobs silently, still overwhelmed. Duncan's hand rubs up and down his spine, Nigel playing with his hair as Hannibal gently crushes Will to his chest. Will puts one hand on Duncan's thigh, the other on Nigel's stomach, his face to Hannibal's throat as he lazily licks the mating mark he left there.
Will doesn't want to be the one to break the silence. Outside of his nest and with everything leading up to this, he's far too exposed and too vulnerable to speak first. Hannibal finally sighs, absently kissing Will's temple. "We should clean up and head home," he suggests. "I'm sure we would all be more comfortable in the nest."
Will nods, thanking his Alpha with a tender purr.
Duncan clears his throat. "Are we…all permitted inside it, once we get there?" he asks. His voice is still hoarse, lingering rut making it difficult for him to speak. It won't fade for a while, it's likely Will is going to have to stay in the backseat and occupy him, since Nigel is still on the cusp and Hannibal's hasn't started yet.
His body clenches, reminding him how suddenly empty he is, and he shivers with anticipation.
"Yes," Will says, meeting Duncan's gaze. Duncan smiles at him, and lifts Will's hand so he can kiss his knuckles.
"Place like this will have a back way out," Nigel says, standing and gathering his clothes. "I'll bring the car around."
Will doesn't want him to leave, but objectively he knows this is the best course of action, so he remains quiet. Still, Nigel smiles at him, cups his face and kisses him deeply before he dresses and leaves. God knows three scary-looking Alphas escorting an Omega that looks like he's been beaten and fucked to within an inch of his life, out of a place like this, is certain to draw some stares. They don't need anyone remembering their faces.
It's a haze, getting dressed and supported on the way to the car. Hannibal keeps an arm around Will's waist since Will has trouble walking, and gently hands him off to Duncan so Duncan can ferry him into the back of the car.
Will freezes when he sees what's inside. Blankets. Pieces of his nest, filled with the scent of all four of them. He swallows past the lump in his throat and climbs in, cradling the newest brown one Hannibal bought him and kneading it instinctively.
He looks up when Duncan climbs in behind him, and makes a questioning sound.
Duncan smiles at him, petting Will's hair as Will happily burrows into the blankets he's been given. "It's a long ride back," he explains. "Didn't know what state you'd be in."
Will swallows. "I'm not going to apologize," he says evenly. "You're mine. You're all mine, and I protect what's mine."
The car quickly fills with the scents and sounds of pleased Alphas, as Hannibal starts the car and heads for the main street.
Duncan chuckles, drawing Will close and kissing him gently. "Of course you would, love," he rasps, pushing Will's hair from his face as Will happily curls up beside him, his blanket in his lap and a soft purr rumbling in his chest. "Now it's our turn to take care of you, and reward you for all your hard work. Properly, this time."
Will smiles, and closes his eyes. His entire body aches and he knows he's in for a week of coddling, petting, and sex that's as gentle as three rutting Alphas can make it. He can't wait.