Lucio felt his gut roil uncomfortably at the knowledge that Ansel remembered the conversation that had transpired the evening prior. He had spilled his guts to there other whilst banking on the fact that once Ansel awoke he'd remember next to none of what had been said. He should have assumed the man would have been able to handle himself better than that when drunk, but in the moment it had been relieving to lighten the weight of emotions on his chest without the threat of Ansel's memory withholding all that he'd admitted. He sighed heavily and nodded at Ansel's words, "No, we do work well together in and out of the bedroom. Even I can't deny that much, it fairly plain to see," he murmured, closing his eyes for a moment and giving in to Ansel's gentle affections. The softly murmured admission of his loyalty, however, promptly turned the boy off. The arguments within himself begun again: he desired Ansel to be his, desperately so in fact, but he simultaneously wished for the man to be as far away from him as possible.<br/><br/>"Ansel . . . Even you can't deny that though we work well together we aren't allowed to be with one another," he commented quietly as the man continued peppering kisses over the soft skin on his neck. He closed his eyes, setting down his fork yet again and savoring the soft pecks. "Besides the fact that our relationship could get your position at the college terminated, relationships such as this one never last . . . Pairings that are built on passion fizzle out, just like my parents did, and I don't want to attempt something with commitment only to watch it crumble and be able to do nothing about it."<br/><br/>The admission was a rather big one, but Lucio spoke the words rather flippantly. He tried to play off the statement, shifting away from Ansel slightly after he spoke so the assault on his neck would cease. He opened his eyes and lifted his fork again, clearing his throat lightly and promptly trying to redirect the subject of conversation.<br/><br/>"This pancake is delicious, though I don't believe I'll be able to eat anymore. Always have had a small stomach," he commented before lifting up his coffee mug. He took a sip of the slightly diluted but still delightfully bitter liquid, a soft hum escaping his lips as he lowered the cup and glanced over at Ansel. "Do you know what brand this is, darling?" he queried softly quickly after, not wanting to give Ansel an opportunity to rekindle the conversation about their relationship.<br/><br/>And so the morning continued like that, Lucio steering the conversation away from any real talk of what had transpired the night before. They pair of men stayed in bed for quite a while, nibbling on the food Ansel had prepared for them halfheartedly while they chatted about unimportant things. It was approaching noon when Lucio finally arose from the bed, helping Ansel to begin cleaning up what he'd laid out for them. He moved into the kitchen, walking with a rather noticeable limp that he'd been disguising the entire evening before whilst they were Ansel's birthday celebration. Lucio glanced over at the pile of gifts by the door and he was reminded of the party, and of the gifts that he'd given Ansel, and then suddenly Petra jumped into his mind's eye.<br/><br/>The boy turned to face Ansel, his brow furrowed deeply as he gazed at the man for a few moments before he grew the bravery to ask. "Ansel, you said the other day that you'd separated from Petra . . . What happened between the pair of you, exactly?"