The truth to Lucio's words was understood but Ansel didn't wish to hear it. Each breath he took was the shadow of a deep, masculine snarl, and despite Lucio's very adept efforts, Ansel couldn't seem to calm himself enough to focus on the wonderful attention his cock was receiving. The testosterone build up was too much, from the oral sex and now Ansel's primal anger, and the professor couldn't decide if he needed to fuck something or punch something. After a few moments of vacillation, Ansel growled and pulled himself away from Lucio, pushing his still painfully erect member to him and fastening his pants, tucking the erection away in the waistband. Even with the effort, Ansel's arousal was very evident, the distinctive bulge from his thick cock impossible to hide completely. It didn't matter to him.<br/><br/>"I don't give a fuck if you're a whore," Ansel said brusquely, his trademark calm demeanor falling away completely. Ansel was partially lying to himself and to Lucio, but not intentionally. He did care that Lucio was a prostitute, but he cared more that the slimy ball of fat and bitterness that was George Grissom considered him nothing more than that. "You're not defined by your chosen profession. You're more than that. You're everything and for that greasy asshole to stand there and act like he's superior to you? You?! He wishes he could be with someone half as wonderful as you are. Instead, he probably goes home every night to some homely wife who hates him just as much as he hates himself."<br/><br/>Ansel lifted his hands to his face and rubbed his skin aggressively. George had riled him much more than he could have possibly expected, more than he could understand. Although rather hot-headed in his youth, it had been a long time since the professor had felt this kind of intense fury about anything. Most of the time, Ansel just didn't care, didn't consider whatever was happening around him important or interesting enough to merit a reaction. But how dare that little rat speak of Lucio? How dare he even<i>look</i>at Lucio? Grissom wasn't worthy. No one was.<br/><br/>He sat back in his chair and sighed. Blood felt hot as it coursed through his veins, leaving him feeling like every limb was on fire. His fists clenched, then unclenched, then clenched again. Ansel couldn't decide what to do with himself. His erection hadn't lessened, and although some primitive part of him just wished he could fuck the fury away, he had absolutely no desire to use and abuse Lucio in such a barbaric manner.<br/><br/>"I'm sorry, sweetness, I just cannot tolerate such blatant disrespect from such a petty creature. I can't."