Lucio was listing off names quicker than Ansel could keep track. All of the women huddled, oooh and aaahing over Lucio's photographs, though it was with good reason. Lucio looked stunning, and were Ansel not currently engaged in a romantic relationship with the object of the photograph, he certainly would have been among the admiring crowd, easing his way to the front so he could get a better look at Lucio Bane's angelic form. He was hardly listening when Lucio expressed curiosity over the absence of one particular admirer, but his attention was immediately grabbed with his lover jumped away from him and exclaimed out loud, turning toward an older gentleman sporting a thick, groomed beard and long silver locks.<br/><br/>Ansel's chest puffed up as he watched the two interact with one another. There was tension in his strong jaw as his eyes followed Lucio's thin arms up and around the old man's shoulders and then back down as the silver gentleman reciprocated, winding his limbs around his angel's small waist. What should have been a quick, polite hello and an innocent amount of touching dragged along for what felt like hours, though in actuality it had probably only been six or seven seconds. Still too long, as far as Ansel was concerned. He nodded his head politely when the pair finally acknowledged him. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Claude," Ansel said pleasantly, actively choosing to ignore the honorifics he had given to Mrs. Clout. Calling Lucio's "friend" by his first name made it incredibly clear that Ansel did not see Claude Delou as a superior, but simply as a mundane equal.<br/><br/>The slight raise of Ansel's dark brow was obscured by his silver mask as he reached for Claude's hand, mentally noting the way the old geezer wrapped his arm around<i>his </i>boyfriend. He stared straight into Claude's eyes, his stare unwavering, though Ansel had spent many, many years learning to how to observe without being obvious, how to pretend like something wasn't right in front of his face. Lucio didn't seem to mind the touching, though Ansel found it rather hypocritical for the young man to allow such a thing. He highly doubted the boy would appreciate it if some pretty young thing came and wrapped himself around<i>Ansel's</i>arm.<br/><br/>Ansel took Claude's hand and shook it firmly, confidently, not softening his grip simply because the man was old and probably frail. "Yes, it seems I am the chosen one," Ansel replied, using his words carefully, deliberately, and slowly. Claude's challenge hadn't gone unnoticed by the professor, and although he realized some battles were better off ignored, the man's ego wouldn't allow Claude's presumptuous claim to go unacknowledged.<br/><br/>"I sometimes wonder if I'm in a dream while I'm with Lucio. But it seems that of all the other suitors he could have possibly chosen, I am the one that won out. I'd like to attribute it to my youthful vigor, but I'm sure my love has a multitude of reasons why he has decided to grace me with his companionship." Ansel smiled lovingly at his young paramour, taking a step forward and running his hand down the boy's smooth cheek. With Claude's arm still disrespectfully clutching his lover, Ansel leaned down to press a long, deep kiss to Lucio's lips. The boy was his, and he would be damned if some old pervert was going to exert his quiet dominance over either of them.<br/><br/>"Darling," Ansel said, taking Lucio's hand and lifting it up to his lips. "This auction is due to start soon, isn't it? I assume there are seats reserved for you and your plus one?"