prescription lovebug

Ansem cradled the cup of tea close, raising a brow as he gave him a once over. "Vexen, you appear as if you have encountered a phantom."

"N-Not," Vexen cleared his throat, straightening his back as sweat rolled down his neck, "Not at all, Master Ansem. I was merely concentrating on these," he motioned toward his desk, which currently found itself covered in various paperwork, discreetly hiding an advertisement that described the, supposedly, most romantic outings, "Crucial files pertaining to the wellbeing of the students. Confidential stuff, I'm sure you're aware."

"I see," Ansem said, "A taxing matter in itself, I presume?" He pressed the rim of the cup to his lips, drinking the tea slowly. 

"Yes, that is correct," Vexen replied, fighting the urge to bounce his knee or run out the window—or hell, both. Something moved beneath the desk, and Vexen visibly winced. 

"Oops."

Ansem pulled his cup away, frowning. He turned to the doctor, confusion evident on his face. "Vexen, did you hear—"

"S-Simply the machinery!" Vexen rushed to say, scooting his chair in as close as possible, offering a silent apology when he heard a grunt, warm breath fanning across the doctor's very much still exposed and wet cock. "Doctor's office and all, it would be a surprise ever to find such a place completely silent." Vexen's nails dug into the underside of the desk, attempting his damnedest to remain calm. "Was there any particular reason for your visit this evening, Master Ansem?"

Any reason that you walked in unexpectedly while I was receiving a blowjob from your dearest grandson?  Was left unsaid. 

"My apologies, Vexen," Ansem sighed, "I simply visited to lament about this old fool's despair."

Vexen raised a brow, momentarily forgetting his current predicament. "Oh?"

"It's about Sora."

Fuck.

His master set down his tea, taking care not to place it atop any of the documents, the cup mutely clinking as it came to rest upon the wood. "I fear that he has entered a... difficult stage, to say the least." Ansem folded his hands neatly atop his lap, a troubled expression evident on his features. "One where he no longer seeks out my affection nor desires my company." 

He is a very affectionate boy,  Vexen's mind supplied, like the traitor it was, still reacting to Sora's breath caressing his exposed dick, the teen's head resting against his lap as he no doubt listened to his grandfather's woes.

"Why do you f-feel," Vexen's nails clawed further into the desk as he felt Sora turn his head, hair brushing across him like silk in the process. "That way, Master Ansem? You two recently shared an outing at Sora's favorite restaurant—"

Ansem looked at him.

"A-Ah, he confides to me about some of these things during his check-ups!" Vexen quickly tried to fix his error, leaning forward. "All which go perfectly sw—" Vexen froze for a second, his dick rubbing against Sora's cheek in his haste. He tried to still his beating heart as Sora's fingers began to lightly press against the head of his cock, the teen's cheek soft and pleasant against all the painful throbbing his traitorous bastard dick was doing.

He had forgotten, oh god, he had forgotten.

He had forgotten how much Sora loved exchanging fluids with him, semen being no exception. In fact, at the risk of being a tad egotistical, Vexen could say with confidence that his semen was one of Sora's favorite drinks.

A "refreshing icee," as the other liked to put it.

"Go perfectly…?"

Vexen smiled, strained as he silently hoped that today Sora wouldn't be in one of his moods where he swore that his body was going to melt if he didn't get a sip today. Where he'd fall to his knees and unbuckle the doctor's belt with haste, drool pooling in the teen's mouth as he opened wide and— "They go perfectly swell, Master Ansem. He is a very, uh, healthy boy."

"I see," Ansem responded, practically brimming with pride. "That is splendid to hear. You know, Vexen, I believe you have helped him grow rather fond of doctor visits."

Searing heat and pressure enveloped the head of his cock, and it took everything in the doctor's will not to grab Sora's head and slam the rest of him into that sinful mouth. Accursed body and its wretched reactionary functions!

Saliva dripped onto his thighs as Sora inched closer, taking his time as he swallowed him whole, nuzzling against the doctor's crotch when he reached the end.

Sora gave a hard suck, drool pooling out from his mouth as his throat fitted the cock snugly. 

Vexen wondered if he should have signed his will earlier that day. 

"Is… Is that so?" Vexen reached for one of the papers on his desk, unable to comprehend the mass of squiggles and lines as Sora slowly bobbed his head, catching a glimpse of the teen's hair swaying from beneath the desk. "I… I am honored to be of assistance."

Sora snorted, resting a hand on Vexen's thigh and rubbing his thumb in circles on the exposed span of skin. 

Vexen hoped that his face wasn't on fire.

"If I were none the wiser, I would have almost believed that he'd rather have you as a grandfather."

Vexen opened his mouth to refute the claim—it would do him no good if Ansem began to suspect the affection his grandson had for him—only for a strangled groan to leave his throat. He stared at his master, mortified as a wet pop followed, loud laughter ringing in the room from the desk. 

"I guess I'd finally get to call you a gilf then, huh, grandpa Vexen?"

The men stared at each other.

"Vexen."

"...Yes, Master Ansem?"

"Is," Ansem rolled his neck, easing the tension out of his shoulders as he stared at him, "Sora here, by any chance?"

"Yes… he's… he's here for a check-up."

Ansem hummed, far too pleasant. "I see. I don't recall any under-the-table procedures being a part of the check-ups." He smiled, and Vexen wondered if the devils in hell had more forgiving gazes. "Then again, I am not the doctor, am I, old friend?"

"I... I suppose not."

Sora crawled out from beneath the desk, standing up and dusting himself off. "Hey, grandpa," he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, "How's it going?"

Ansem turned to his grandson. "Sora, there's a substance on your face." Vexen could feel the pointed glare, his master daring him even to try uttering a sound. "Is it lotion, perhaps? Feeling unwell?" 

Vexen wished he could have flatlined in the chair at that moment. It would have been a million times better than dealing with his master's wrath to come.

"Oh," Sora swiped at the precum with his thumb, Vexen watching with a mix of aroused-horror as the teen sucked his digit clean, smiling back at his grandfather. "Seems like I'm still a messy eater, haha."

Vexen swore by every law of the universe that the air crackled.

Ansem smiled at Sora. "Is that so?"

He couldn't move as Sora decided to sit on his lap and cuddle close, as customary of all their previous sessions, making the entire situation a fuckton worse. 

(But he knew he didn't have it in him to get upset with Sora. Sora, who was much too fond of him and brimmed with joy whenever he so much as glanced at him.

And the fact that Sora's body was keeping his dick warm, which had drying saliva still smothered over it, was a much-appreciated gesture.)

The teen yawned, offering a drowsy smile. "Yep, but Dr. Vexen always makes sure that I get my vitamins."

Vexen was sure of it now; the atmosphere had definitely crackled. 

Ansem turned to Vexen, smile sharper than any scalpel the doctor had ever seen in the entirety of his career. "It seems we have much to catch up on, don't we, my dear friend?"

He swallowed, throat dry, dick warm. "Yes... It would... seem so."

"Hey grandpa," Sora asked, stretching like a cat, the teen's body no doubt sore from being cramped beneath the desk, "Wanna join us for a late lunch?"

Vexen closed his eyes and shed a single tear.

If Ansem didn't end him, love surely would.