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After a day stretched too long consulting lackluster patients with their banal issues, there was nothing that Hannibal wanted more than to return home to his beautiful and enigmatic mate.
This is how life has been for him for the past five years since his darling Will first started leaving his belongings - and himself - at his home more often than not as their relationship progressed. But now, there is a difference - not to the routine, but who he comes home to.
Two weeks ago, Hannibal returned to work after a three month long leave for the birth and subsequent care of his and Will’s child - a son; an omega, affectionately named Emilis.
It is one of the worst forms of torture, going to work for most of the day, away from his mate who smells of sweet and intoxicating hormones that drive his protectiveness so exquisitely up the wall as of recent, and his newborn son, the product of them both, perfection incarnate in such a small and fragile form.
But now Hannibal is home, albeit at past eight in the evening. He releases a slow, self-indulgent sigh nonetheless.
In the foyer of the house, the air smells of Will as if he’s been there recently, though Hannibal knows he’s been spending almost every moment he can upstairs with Emilis. However, there have been a few occasions where Will has left the house to walk Emilis in a stroller, allowing them both some sunshine and fresh air. Will has not taken such a trip since Hannibal returned to work.
Hannibal hangs his coat on the coat rack by the door, right next to Will’s.
The scent of their pup is not present in the foyer nor even near it, but Hannibal worries not. He’ll find it after climbing the stairs where the nursery and the master bedroom is located.
As Hannibal peruses through the house, he notes on the silence that settles the air. Emilis must be asleep, which means that Will most likely is too, taking advantage of any moment in the night that offers him reprieve from the cries of a discontented newborn. Will likes to complain about Hannibal’s ability to function on way fewer hours of sleep than most people can. Hannibal always smiles fondly at those groans of annoyance pointed towards him in the morning, knowing that they hold no real malice.
He can hear the snores of sleeping dogs as he passes by the living room. He doesn’t need to check to know that all five of them are snoozing to their hearts’ content.
Quickly into his relationship with Will, Hannibal had learned that there would be no compromises when it came to the dogs, especially when it was time for Will to fully move in with him. And so, even after the passage of the years having claimed a couple of them, the dogs have stayed.
Like Will, Emilis enjoys them greatly. Hannibal humors that, once he’s grown enough to run on his own, the pup will join the pack and his bearer on bounding journeys out in plains of grass and river banks.
By the time Hannibal’s internal musings begin to slow, he’s reached the top of the stairs. He can see that the nursery door is closed, which means that Emilis is not inside - the door is always open for quick access when he is.
Hannibal makes for the bedroom, his gait controlled as it has always been. The door is cracked, but before he can open it, a low sound catches his attention. The deep pitch slithers into and reverberates inside his chest like an invasive yet familiar and welcomed serpent of adoration.
After only a brief second of distant curiosity, he gently pushes open the bedroom door. On the large bed-turned-nest of smooth linens and soft blankets of cool colors lay his radiant mate, peaceful and divine in his sleep like Endymion once was. Atop him on his chest, laying limply in a similar state of rest is Emilis, dressed in a soft, maroon onesie that Hannibal had picked out for him. Also partially swaddled in a star-patterned baby blanket, the little pup appears just as cozy and content as his sleeping bearer.
But what seizes Hannibal the most is that, even in his sleep, Will is purring …loudly. And even more, it sounds as though their son is attempting the very same. His first purrs.
Hannibal’s lips subconsciously part in awe, his cold heart warming for the only two people who have experienced his love and lived. The impassiveness in his eyes softens to something not seen outside of Will’s presence.
The alpha in his chest - something once solely used for its ability to fuel his cruelty and sadism - beams at the sight of those that are his, his mate that happily bears his bite, and the child that is theirs both, all at peace and more than content. His family.
Having already taken his shoes off at the door, Hannibal can walk with his sock-clad feet through the room without risking the undisturbed tranquility of those purring on the bed. Minimizing any noise as much as possible, he strips down to his boxers in the walk-in closet, donning a light, midnight robe, its silky material being something that Emilis seems to enjoy.
Will and the baby are still asleep and purring their hearts out when Hannibal emerges from the closet. Likely for the comfort of the alpha’s scent, Will had taken up Hannibal’s side of the bed, and so Hannibal now rounds the bed to Will’s own side to slowly - ever so slowly - enter the nest to join his mate and pup.
Soft blankets, plush pillows, and the lush, green scent of Will welcomes Hannibal into the nest like an embrace. With how fiercely protective Will’s postpartum hormones have made him, there was the chance that Hannibal might be rejected from the nest once the omega wakes, but with how pleasantly he sleeps now, Hannibal doubts it more than he counts on it.
Hannibal leans back to make himself comfortable amongst the items carefully strewn about the bed, perching himself next to his mate. Now that he is closer to the pair, he can better hear how Emilis is purring - or rather, trying his best to do so. Being such a small and altricial thing, the vocal cords needed to properly purr aren’t fully developed for him yet.
Nevertheless, something akin to a quiet chirp comes from his throat, broken with the slightest vibration here and there.
Looking at Emilis now, sleeping so soundly atop Will with closed eyes and curled fingers, Hannibal’s heart feels like melting all over again.
The fresh replenishment of Hannibal’s scent of rich wine and a fire on a cold night must finally be noticed by Will, for in the next moment, the omega stirs in his sleep until rest evades him completely, his eyes slowly coming to open. The gems that they are find Hannibal immediately, and the alpha is reminded of the possibility of being kicked out of the nest, but Will’s purrs continue, a sleepy smile finding him.
”Hannibal… hey,” Will’s voice, while a little groggy with sleep, is so, so completely sweet to Hannibal’s ears.
Will makes a move to sit up and properly greet his mate with a suitable amount of nuzzles and kisses, but he stops once his waking mind catches up with the fact that his pup is sleeping on his chest. His smile widens at the sight, but then he freezes.
There is a prolonged moment of stillness, of soaking it all in, then, “He’s purring.” Will whispers with a breath of surprise and delight. His own purring hasn’t ceased save for the interruptions of speech, though it has quieted somewhat now that he’s conscious to control it.
“So were you when I first walked in here. I haven’t heard you purr so loudly in your sleep ever since your body learned it was expecting before your mind did.” Hannibal says, and the reminder of that period of time in the past earns him the reemergence of Will’s smile.
Will turns his head to look at their son, snuggled so sweetly against his front. He lightly places a hand atop the pup’s tiny back, feeling the faint vibrations against his palm. “He was crying up a storm earlier.” Will says. Gently, his thumb begins to caress little Emilis’ back in slow back-and-forth motions. “I thought he was going to get sick with how bad it was. I still don’t think he’s used to you being away for so long even after these past two weeks. I brought him in here so he could have your scent.”
The concern in Will’s eyes is a subtle thing, but Hannibal reassures him with a soft nuzzle to his stubbled cheek. “He’ll get used to it eventually, my love. But it surely seems that your attempt at soothing him worked.” Eyes on Emilis, they both silently remark on their son’s choppy purring again, at how precious it is. This is a memory that Hannibal shall dedicate a room in his mind palace to.
The moment ends as Will sighs and rests his nose under Hannibal’s jaw. His mate smells like safety and home and the promise to love him forever. “How was work?” He asks, a little lazy in his question yet still curious all the same.
”I am satisfied to have returned home.” Is all that Hannibal responds with, saying nothing yet everything at the same time. Will laughs lowly, making for a lovely melody mixed with his purrs.
”Nothing interesting? No new reasons to want to kill your patients?” Will teases semi-seriously because, sometimes, he can never truly tell with Hannibal.
Hannibal sends his mate an unimpressed look, but it doesn’t land because Will is still nuzzled under his jaw, drinking in his scent and occasionally nudging the impression of his own teeth left in Hannibal’s neck. Fondness blooms in his chest.
”No,” He humors Will with a response. “I would tell you if a target made itself known to me. But even so, Emilis needs our attention right now.” Even though their little one has grown a lot during the last three months, he is still quite the handful, not to mention much too vulnerable and fragile to be let out of sight for very long.
And now that Hannibal has returned to work, there is little opportunity for him to hunt and provide for his family with the protein of long pig. Once he had been handed a positive pregnancy test, he had refused to bring Will along with him to share a kill, but now neither of them are able to prowl and slaughter as they had used to before.
But Hannibal does not complain. He could still create excellent dishes, and, truly, nothing is better than what he has right here.
The thought of the slaughter, though, prompts a question from the alpha. “Have you eaten dinner yet, Will? I haven’t entered the kitchen since coming home, but I don’t smell any cooking.”
Will parts from Hannibal’s neck and pecks his cheek, a sigh slow to leave his lungs. “I’ve been too busy with Emilis. I was able to get him fed before he had his meltdown, though.”
For that, Hannibal cannot fault his mate, but the stress that must take on Will is disheartening. Nevertheless, now that he is home, Hannibal is able to be of support to Will, and that includes providing dinner. All like a dutiful mate.
”I can reheat the soup I made last night. I have not eaten dinner either, so I’ll make us both a bowl.”
Will nods, an easy and agreeing expression on his face. He inhales as if to say something, but the bundle on his chest begins to squirm, those small purrs coming to a halt. It takes hardly a moment longer before Emilis starts to fuss a little, and Will quickly encompasses the pup in his arms, bringing him further up his chest to shush him gently.
In response to the new disturbance, Hannibal scoots in a little closer, beginning to purr his own deep rumble so that Emilis would know that he was there too. “Now, now. Hush, little mongoose. You have already caused enough trouble for your father for one day.” The alpha whispers in a low, soothing manner, the same way he always has since first talking to Emilis while Will’s belly still separated them.
Now that Hannibal is helping along with him, Will places Emilis between them so that they could both support his small weight and calm him equally. The alpha’s hand encompasses the pup’s head where it rests to caress the soft skin and light, wispy hair that has slowly been growing out.
Between his two fathers, Emilis takes after his sire the most. He’s taken Hannibal’s eyes and hair, and every time Will gazes at his face long enough, the omega swears that the little one sports Hannibal’s “dastardly cheekbones” underneath all the baby fat that plumps his face.
And every day for the last two weeks, Will has told stories of Emilis’ doings during the time Hannibal had been away at work. He speaks of silly mannerisms and picky eating, certain that Emilis is already taking after his sire’s unique and snooty behaviorisms. Hannibal always indulges Will in a smile for his words and Emilis’ antics.
But the alpha has seen a look of deep curiosity in Emilis’ eyes when faced with situations or objects new to him, a look that reflects the inner workings that can only otherwise be found in Will’s mind. Will may see Hannibal in the pup, but Hannibal knows that beneath those young brown eyes is all Will.
Emilis always squeals in delight whenever the dogs sniff at him, and he finds more joy in his soft toys and in his parents’ arms more than Hannibal ever did as a babe.
The boy is such an active child. Hannibal wishes he was home more often to witness it all.
Perhaps he had returned to work too soon, but it was too late to take it back - however, he has given thought to the more dramatic option of closing up his practice for another three months, or at least until Will returns to work himself. He’s already missed too much with Emilis just in these last two weeks. Hannibal is afraid that he’ll miss his little one’s milestones, insignificant and trivial as he used to consider them.
He tables the thought of resuming his leave as both he and Will mutually come to realize that Emilis’ crying isn’t going to come to an end just by their purrs and pacifying reassurances.
The purr in Will’s throat falters as he sighs. “I think Emilis needs to eat again. I suppose it’s not horrible timing.” He says, placing another kiss to Hannibal’s cheek before taking the pup to cradle in his arms and leaving the bed. Hannibal follows him to his feet then leads the way downstairs, Emilis fussing behind him in his bearer’s hold.
As is the new norm in the household, Will is dressed down for the sake of comfort and ease. Any of his usual dress has been temporarily set aside, all but for the cotton t-shirts and the loose pajama pants. It’s a wardrobe that gives a rather domestic look to Will. Hannibal sees and indulges in the appeal of it, but, like Will, he does lament the loss of a more dressed-up version of the omega. Soon, though.
Hannibal has always favored optimism.
They reach the bottom of the stairs, and the crying has awoken the attention of the dogs. Only Winston dares to approach when Emilis cries. The fathers only allow it because he never tries to get too close or cause a ruckus in those high-stress moments.
Hannibal and Will make a straight path for the kitchen, Winston following behind.
Despite knowing that what Emilis needs most is to be fed, Will has not halted any attempts to soothe his little one in the meanwhile. He cradles and quietly hushes Emilis, hoping to quell any amount of upset with small motions and words. Hannibal easily situates everything needed in the kitchen both for the adults and the infant. He delights in being able to provide, and now with the most precious addition to their family, well, the pleasure is all his.
Soon, a pot of soup is left on the stove to slowly reheat, and a bottle of formula is mixed and warmed up for Emilis. Something relieved passes over Will’s face when Hannibal hands over the warmed bottle after making sure it wasn’t too hot. When Will offers it to Emilis, the babe is eager to latch onto the rubber top and quiet down in favor of taking the meal. The furrow creasing Will’s brow smooths over, and a familiar warmth takes hold of Hannibal’s chest again.
The soup can be left to sit for a moment, and Hannibal takes the opportunity to let his gaze wander to his mate and Emilis. The pup is still swaddled in his little blanket, though some of it has slipped from the way it wraps around him and dangles from Will’s arms. Regardless, he appears as content as can be now that he has something to alleviate his hunger.
With soft eyes, Hannibal is transfixed by the sight of his son taking his fill. He will never let Emilis go hungry or cold, and he will ensure that his pup only ever finds love and guidance and acceptance from him. He’s certain that Will has made similar promises, either whispered in silence or all avowed in his mind. They will hold true all the same.
Will looks up from Emilis, catching Hannibal’s eyes. He raises a curious brow. “What is it?”
The beginnings of a smile lifts a singular corner of Hannibal’s lips. “Oh, nothing.” And Will playfully rolls his eyes.
Emilis finishes his bottle right as Hannibal begins to ladle the rest of the leftover soup into two bowls.
Will sidles up behind Hannibal so he can place the used bottle in the sink to be dealt with later. When he turns around, the soup has been dished - it truly is nothing fancy, and even when they do just end up eating it in the kitchen, space scant between them, one of Will’s arms still holding Emilis, and Winston distantly observing, neither one of them can find it within themselves to complain.
The meal satisfies them, and when they go upstairs for the night, Hannibal and Will settle Emilis between them in the nest like they had done earlier. Peace finds its reigns, and the little chirp of a broken purr begins to quietly resonate once again.