***Hey all,
I felt like writing something that was just smut, and here it is. Let me know if you like it and want more chapters.
Heads up, this chapter contains: gay male content, mild mind control.
Penny***
The olive-skinned man sitting across from Lucas Collins wore a crisp, well tailored suit, impossibly wrinkle free, even with his legs crossed. He clicked his pen repetitively, constantly pulling Lucas's attention back to the expensive looking writing utensil. The suit was grey, almost black, but not quite, and the pen was driving him crazy, especially since the man hadn't said anything to him since welcoming him in, other than to take a seat. He looked over his clipboard, then up, his steel colored eyes measuring him up before returning to the clipboard.
Lucas was skeptical, the information on the clipboard couldn't possibly have been his information, he'd given it to the girl at reception, she'd been still copying it when he'd been called back.
The man looked up at him again, those steely eyes making him uncomfortable. He fought to keep from squirming in his chair, then looked down, unable to hold his gaze.
"Hmm." The man hummed. Lucas looked up, nervous to catch the man's eyes again, but he couldn't stop himself. The man was looking at something behind him. He turned around, but there was nothing there, just the closed door, a clock, and a mostly empty bookshelf. He turned back around to find the man had stood up, though he hadn't heard it. He walked around Lucas's chair, trailing a finger over his bare arm. Lucas pulled back and held it to his chest.
He watched as the man took a small cone out of a box on the bookshelf, then placed it on a small dish he'd overlooked. Lucas didn't see a lighter, but the incense cone was already smoking, and the man returned to his chair. A moment later he smelled it, a woodsy, deep scent that reminded him of something familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on what.
The pen clicks, the tip emerges. The pen clicks, the tip disappears. He counts forty six clicks before the man looks at him again. He'd stopped counting for a second, ready to finally begin his appointment, but the clicking starts again, even with the man's steel eyes on him. He shifts uncomfortably, looking at anything but the man across from him.
Seventeen more clicks from when he started counting again before the man clears his throat. "So... Mr. Collins. May I call you Luca?"
Lucas tilts his head to the side, lips pursed, his annoyance sidestepping his manners. "No, you may not."
"No? Oh well. I knew a Lucas before, bit of a twat, if you will pardon my language."
"Excuse me?" Lucas snaps, caught flat footed by the lack of professionalism. "Dr. Ifson, aren't you supposed to keep that stuff secret? Like the hippocratic oath, right?"
"I suppose that would be unprofessional of me, if I were a doctor."
"You're not a doctor?" Lucas snaps.
Dr. Ifson, no, not doctor, whatever the man across from his was, he smiles. This smile feels genuine, and it quickly cools his temper, though he doesn't know why. "I never claimed to be a doctor, did I?"
"I assumed-"
"Well, there lies your problem," Mr. Ifson replies. "You can call me by my first name, if you prefer."
"That seems very unprofessional, Mr. Ifson." Lucas was trying hard to hold onto his anger, but it kept slipping away like a beach ball in the ocean surf, a little farther with each wave. The smell of the incense had quickly filled the room, and it somehow made him feel softer around the edges.
"Ral. Call me Ral, please. Or just Ifson. I cannot stand formalities like 'doctor' or 'mister'. Creates a division between folk, creates unnecessary boundaries. Anyway, Lucas," (the way he says Lucas's name makes his flesh break out in goose pimples), "you are here because... hmm..." Ral clicks the pen again a few times before he continues. "Impotence, correct?"
Lucas flinches, even just hearing the word makes him upset. "Yes." He coughs to cover his embarrassment.
"Nothing to be ashamed of, Lucas." He looks at the clipboard again, then writes something down. Deep steely eyes catch Lucas's and he's trapped. "Let us see... Smoker?"
"No."
He nods, jots something down. "Alcohol?"
"A beer here or there. Drinks with friends occasionally. No more than two, three times a week."
He nods again, clicks his pen, but doesn't write anything down. Lucas's toes tap the floor in time to the pen clicking. When he realizes it he stops, then pushes his feet flat to the ground with his hands on his knees. "Do you take medication?"
"Yes. Why are you asking me all of this? I already filled it out on the form I gave to your receptionist."
"Hmm?" he hums, looking up from his clipboard. "There is no receptionist who works for me."
"Yes, that woman out there, behind the desk. With the glasses and the french braids? She had me fill out a form and told me to take a seat."
Ral shrugs. "She does not work for me."
"Fine, for your practice then, whatever."
"You misunderstand. There is no practice. This is research, so to speak, and I do not have staff."
"Are you trying to tell me the woman behind the desk outside of this room doesn't work for you?"
"Exactly," Ral says, nodding with a smile that makes Lucas's heart skip a beat. He ignores it.
"No, no, no. There's a woman outside this room behind a desk, correct?"
Ral nods. "Correct. She is not on my payroll, to be clear."
"Then what is she doing taking down my information?!"
Ral shrugs. "She does filing, people shuffling, that sort of thing."
"So she works for you!"
Ral shakes his head and Lucas is nearly ready to leave, would've left already, but his anger floats away on scented air as soon as it sparks. He should leave, the incense is making him feel weird, and this whole setup feels fishy, but he can't seem to muster the energy to leave. He's too curious, and a bit desperate, so he stays seated.
Ral smiles and clicks his pen a few more times, each one digging claws under his skin. Goosebumps ripple Lucas's arms again and he rubs them, sure he can still feel where Ral touched him. "I suppose she volunteers, if you must label it anything. I do not pay her, and I have never asked her for her services."
Lucas decides to drop that particular line of conversation. "Fine. Whatever."
"As for the form you filled out, I do not have it. And, even if I did, I would ask these questions again."
