What a nightmare.

The young man could not deny that he was happy about his friend's silver anniversary, but he certainly could not share every else's excitement about the party.

- "I want to see you there, Graham." Jack Crawford had said when he invited him. "And don't worry, you'll share a table with more people like you. I'm sure you'll get along!" He assured him with a cheerful laugh.

He knew that it was a really important day for him, and Will wasn't obliged to talk to everybody and make friends, he could simply follow the basic protocol of such social gatherings and everything would be fine. Or at least he hoped so.

Although he had not spent more than and hour and a half at that party, once he gave the happy couple his greeting the happy couple he felt that his work there was don't and he already felt like leaving. The music was too lound for his taste, as well as the people. So many voices surrounded him, babbling and gabbling intelligible things, others felicitously dancing around, some of them quite chipper without paying attention to the rest of them seemed to threat to hit Will by accident.

- "C'mon darling! Let's go dancing." Said the woman next to Will as she dragged her husband to the dance floor. Poor man.

And so, the other members of the table decided to imitate them, leaving their half-eaten dishes to have some fun with the rest of the party. When Will lifted his gaze from his plate he found himself alone with another man he had just met and whose name he hadn't even bothered to remember. He tried to avert his gaze, but his reaction was slow when he noticed the brown eyes that turned to see his.

- "Jack told me about you." The man said in an accent Will had never heard before. "You really are a man of few words, Will Graham."

To that comment he couldn't help grimacing. The truth didn't offend him, but he was a little bit annoyed by the fact that his friend had, apparently, been gossiping about him. If Jack had taken the time to tell this stranger things about him he could've done the same for Will and give him an idea of the kind of people he had settle him with.

- "You may have noticed that socializing is not my forte." He considered leaving the conversation there and continue eating, but instead he decided to try and be civil. "I'm sorry, would you tell me your name again?"

- "Hannibal Lecter." He replied after finishing his dish. The elegance of his movements and the fine suit he was wearing made him feel like he probably looked like a runagate compared to him.

- "So... How'd you met Jack?" Will asked out of curiosity.

- "We worked together some time ago."

- "Oh, you are in the police?"

- "No, I'm a psychiatrist." He explained. "For a while I practiced forensic psychiatry, but I found that it didn't suit me well. What do you do for a living?"

- "I'm just a professor."

The casual talk continued for a while and Will was surprisingly comfortable with it. Unlike most people Dr. Lecter didn't seem to be disgruntled by his avoidance of eye contact and personal questions weren't inquire, it was just a quiet conversation to kill time.

The professor discovered the other's birthplace when he asked about his accent and thanks to the way Hannibal commented about the food served at the reception Will was able to see the other's love for the culinary arts. When he pointed that out their talk quickly turned into a conversation and debate about art and philosophy. An authentic epicurean, Will said to himself. How little he had had to talk about himself, he realized then and a soft smiled appeared on his face.

- "Sorry?" Will asked when he noticed that Hannibal had asked him a question he hadn't heard.

- "I was just curious about what you're thinking, it was as if you'd disappeared for a moment. Is there something wrong?"

Will lowered his gaze for a second and ruffled his locks.

- "No, don't worry. It's rather the opposite... I mean, I guess I'm not entirely used to talk for this long. At least not outside the school." He let out a soft nervous laugh. "I'm a man of few words, as you said..." His words trailed off and led to an awkward silence between both men.

- "Are you sure? We don't have to keep talking if you're feeling uncomfortable." His blue eyes were still fixed to the table, but he looked back at him when Hannibal moved his chair.

- "No." The young man said. "It's not that. Stay... if you want."

- "...Alright." Hannibal responded vehemently as he resumed his place at the table.

- "Sorry."

- "There's nothing to apologize for."

- "Maybe I didn't express myself clearly. What I was trying to say was that I didn't expect this, to find someone to talk to... I guess I'm happy we can talk, without it being uncomfortable. Until now but, beyond that... Everything is fine." His lips curled up into a small hint of a smile. "What were you telling me before all this?"

If Will had smiled, Hannibal returned that gesture to him before continuing from where he had stopped. There was no other awkward silence after that point.

Just a professor, he had said. A simple and socially awkward one. The psychiatrist wasn't sure if it had been a good decision to have spent most of the party with Will Graham, perhaps it'd have been better to try and talk with someone else. The man was cultured, he would grant him that, talking to him had certainly been more interesting that talking to that married couple bound to failure that was sitting next to them at the beginning of the night. Was he interesting? Intriguing would be the appropriate term? He hadn't said much about himself, but Hannibal hadn't asked either.

Once he arrived home he poured himself a glass of Chianti to drink as he pondered. It had been a weird night, it felt that way for him even if so far he hadn't been able to discern the reason of it. After feeling the scent of the wine he took a sip, but he couldn't savour it. Inquietude was all he felt and the doubt of why everything was so off that night was clouding his mind. He rubbed his face with the palm of his hands as if he were trying to rake over the unresolved query.

Leaving the unfinished glass on the ebony table he decided to take a cold shower to relax and wash out all the accrued onus of the day. All he needed was to relax and go to sleep. He was free the next day so it was better to go to bed early to enjoy the morning doing what he loved without the pressure of having to be ready for work.

The cold water had been a good choice. The tension of his body seemed to slide out of it with every drop of water, although it didn't seem to do much for his mind. Random bits of his conversation with the professor earlier still popped up inside his head without reason.

Drained, he didn't even bother to dry his head. Who cares if he wet his pillow if it meant to soon enter the realm of Morpheus. A good night of sleep was all he needed to recover, there was nothing more effective than that, no matter how uneasy he could feel.

After closing his eyes, Hannibal found himself dragging his tongue across someone's midsection. The scene is dark and he can't see who is with him and that moment. Without caring about his partner's identity he kept nipping lightly at the porcelain skin, leaving red spots the entire way. His excitement increased as he heeded the moans that escaped from the other's lips while he goes lower and lower.

- "Stop." He heard the man say.

Of a sudden movement the roles are inverted and that masculine figure is now on top of him; he can finally see his face. The deep blue eyes he had met that day are looking up at him seductively before deftly pulling down his underpants. In arousal he woke as soon as that scruffy boy buried his face against his nether regions.