| Outside the
Covent Garden Opera House there is a candlelit gathering
for those exclusive few who have seen the preview of the
new piece. In the beautiful summer heat, slim girls covered in layers of thin silk weave through the throng, carrying silver trays of champagne flutes. Reaching out, lavishing one waitress with a devilish smile, Dr Frobisher takes two glasses and hands one to his young companion. Their fingers touch as the other accepts the drink and a look of deep affection passes between them. The moment is broken by a loud, female voice calling the doctor from across the cobbled stones. �Dr Frobisher!� The large woman closes in and reaches out her hand. He transfers his glass and takes the gloved fingers into his own, bending slightly to kiss the white lace. �Lady Benedict, how wonderful to see you here. Did you enjoy the opera?� �Indeed. Most satisfying! The performance was flawless.� Actually that wasn�t the case, but he doesn�t correct her. Besides, she�s losing interest in him already and her gaze is flitting to the blond at the doctor�s side, standing barely a step behind him. �Is this a friend of yours?� she asks as her husband, a quieter and so much more pleasing individual, joins them. Hannibal blinks. �I do apologise. Lady Benedict, this is William Harker.� Turning his head, he delights in catching the soft play of candlelight in the other man�s hair. Nothing has ever been as distracting as having Will with him to share his life. And tonight he looks exquisite in a white, silk shirt over black trousers. The top button of the shirt is open, exposing a pronounced collarbone, giving a teasing glimpse of a hairless chest. To Hannibal, he looks good enough to eat, although he would never dream of it. �William, may I introduce Lord and Lady Benedict.� Will takes a step forward and reaches out his hand. �A pleasure.� His accent gives him away immediately. �You�re American!� So is Hannibal, but they�ve never made the distinction. �How wonderful! How do you know our Dr Frobisher?� �Our� doctor. Will smiles to himself. Hannibal belongs to no one but him. They long ago put their past behind them and laid the pain to rest. Instead of hurting one another, they have discovered much better and more pleasurable ways to spend their time. Sensing Will�s hesitation, Hannibal slides one arm around the slim waist and spreads his fingers possessively over one bony hip. �William�s a very dear friend of mine,� he tells them, and enjoys watching the mix of expressions on their faces. Her husband isn�t bothered in the least. He smiles, reaches forward and shakes Will�s outstretched hand. Lady Benedict is obvious in her uncertainty. She too shakes his hand, but her preconceived ideas of the doctor have been shaken to their core and it will take time for her to build new impressions. Hannibal puts her out of her misery, so to speak, by bidding them a good night. With a long look and a memorable smile, Will walks with the doctor away from them. Later, as they lie together in their luxurious apartment, they�ll laugh about it. Hannibal will suggest that the moment he touched his lover, the image of them fucking, of his large cock buried in Will�s ass or pushed down his throat, popped unbidden into her mind. Will would suggest in turn that the same happened for her husband, and that�s why he was so friendly. There are others here tonight who know the pair better. They have accepted both into London�s high society and are glad to have their unique company. Stepping around the candles that burn brightly in trays on the cobbled street, Will is stopped by British film director Peter Buchanan and asked if he and the good doctor are free the following Friday for a night out at a restaurant, followed by a movie premiere. Will accepts the invitation gladly. He enjoys this life, even if he does sometimes pine for the balmy warmth of Florida. He seeks out other Americans simply to hear the accent spoken back at him. Hannibal may be American, but he�s perfected the European accent to such a degree that his origins are barely noticeable now. �Will?� His hand is taken, hot fingers rubbing into his palm. He turns to look at his lover. �Ready to go?� He simply nods. As they stroll away from the crowd, they place their glasses on trays still weaving through the opera-goers. They�ve enjoyed their evening, but the night is still young, the air still warm, and they have one another to bask in now. |