"Toys?" Ansel replied curiously, raising an inquisitive eyebrow in his lover's direction as the young man drove toward their destination, the route from his apartment already familiar to him, especially now that Lucio had disclosed the location of the masquerade and auction. Ansel remembered the Langham relatively fondly; it was the first place he and Lucio had fucked, although the professor certainly wouldn't call what had occurred in that suite a "date," although Lucio had used the term euphemistically to refer to his appointments with his clients. Thankfully, however, all that was over now. Buckley had been the last one to take advantage of Lucio's specific services, and he had gone too far.<i>But now he's mine</i>, Ansel thought fondly, smiling softly when the blonde boy reached his hand over to grasp Ansel's.<i>He's mine and no one will touch him ever again. <br/>
</i><br/>The professor was feeling ambivalent about the event that night. He relished in the opportunity to spend time with his love and to support a profession that was more acceptable to him than prostitution, even if Lucio wasn't entirely fond of it due to the lingering negative associations he had made to it thanks to his unfavorable father. He hoped Lucio would perhaps grow to appreciate the vocation once he saw how fervently Ansel supported the particular path. If Lucio didn't want a job, Ansel would have been fine with that as well. He made more than enough to take care of both of them. But he knew Lucio didn't like feeling dependent on anyone else. He was stubborn and moody, prone to nervousness or depression when he didn't have something to keep his mind and body occupied. Ansel didn't believe Lucio would be happy being a househusband, and he didn't want to force that life on his lover. Modeling was something Lucio could do, and he could do it<i>well</i>. It was something, at least, and Ansel would support it until Lucio found something else he liked.<br/><br/>Though he knew supporting Lucio's work was the best thing he could do for the young man, he wasn't at all excited about bumping elbows with the high and mighty of the Chicago elite. Petra had tried time and time again to drag him out to so many functions, and each time Ansel had scoffed and suggested she go with one of her friends instead. He was perfectly happy to spend an evening at home reading a book or going bar hopping to find a willing young man for the night, though Petra was never aware of the latter option. Ansel typically found the types who frequented these functions to be stuffy, condescending, and banal, but he was determined to put on his charm and make it through the night without incident, if only so he would be properly rewarded when Lucio took him up to the suite at the end of the night.<br/><br/>It felt as if they had only just stepped through the doors when Lucio was already being enthusiastically approached by an older woman--one of the young model's "fans," Ansel was sure. She looked lovely for her age, as ambiguous as that age might have been, though Ansel wasn't fond of the way her lips seemed a little too unnaturally plump and her face looked as if someone had pulled and tightened the skin back to erase any chance of wrinkles. Fillers, a face lift. Ansel suspected she had even had a few nose jobs, and that fact was supported when the older woman opened her mouth and called out to Lucio in a grating, nasally pitch. Although he wasn't fond of the nipped-and-tucked look, Ansel knew he had no place to judge. A person's body was hers to do with as she pleased, and this woman seemed to have the intent and the means. He was happy he was wearing the silver masquerade mask his lover had gotten for him, as it helped disguise much of the tension in Ansel's face.<br/><br/>The exchange between Lucio and the woman gave off the impression that the two were long-time acquaintances, and Ansel played the dutiful boyfriend and stood back quietly, allowing the two to engage one another in playful banter without interruption. He was pleased Lucio didn't wait too long before returning back to him, curling around his arm and hugging himself against Ansel's bicep. Ansel's hands, which had been politely held in front of him with his right hand gently grasping his left wrist, separated from one another as the woman approached. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Clout," Ansel said, reaching out to take Mrs. Clout's hand into his own, lifting it up gently as he bent to press a delicate kiss to the top of her skin. "Lucio has spoken highly of you to me," he said, somewhat truthfully. He had mentioned his "fan club," after all.<br/><br/>Ansel released Mrs. Clout's hand and smiled pplitely, enough that could actually be noticed beneath his thick, dark beard. "I haven't seen any of Lucio's photographs yet. From the way you praise, it sounds like I'm in for a pleasant surprise."