[Pokémon X&Y] Show Off
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teamflareTitle: Show Off
Fandom: Pokémon X&Y
Pairing: Professor Augustine Sycamore/Lysandre
Rating: T
Summary: "I was staring at your ankles," Lysandre corrected. "Ankles are part of the legs, not... the feet."
Notes: For the prompt "Lysandre's ankle kink." (More or less.)
AO3 Link: Here.
"Lysandre."
He blinked, his eyes snapping back toward the professor’s face. He was slumped against the back of his office chair, his legs resting on his desk, crossed at the ankles. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway, revealing way more of his chest than was appropriate in the workplace; to his defense, it was stiflingly hot in the room, despite the low rumble of the rotating fan.
"Professor?" Lysandre replied. He’d been perusing through the mess left on the side of the gramophone before he’d let himself be– distracted. "You were saying?"
The professor smiled at him. "I’m surprised you haven’t told me off for putting my shoes up on the desk.” When Lysandre merely kept frowning at him, he added, “You’ve been staring at my feet for the better part of five minutes."
"I was staring at your ankles," Lysandre corrected. Then he closed his mouth so hard his teeth made a very unpleasant noise. He turned back toward the gramophone. "Ankles are part of the legs, not... the feet."
"Right," the professor said. It sounded like he was holding back a laugh.
"You’re not wearing socks," Lysandre went on, unsure as to why exactly he felt the need to justify himself. He grabbed a disc that had slipped between the small table and the wall.
"My feet get too hot if I wear them in this weather." He heard the chair swivel but didn’t turn to see what the professor was doing, instead focusing on putting the disc back on the nearby pile. "Then my ankles get swollen."
There was no ignoring the emphasis he’d put on the word. Lysandre cleared his throat and looked back at him. He was still sprawled on his chair, but he’d turned so that now Lysandre could see the ankle he’d tucked over his other leg at an even better angle. It was a little red. Maybe even a little sore.
"See? They’re already swelling a bit." The professor sighed, bending his knee so he could scratch at the flushed skin. Lysandre felt somewhat faint, which could be explained by the fact that he was wearing his usual pick of clothing despite the heat.
He took a few steps and sat down on the chair facing the desk. From there, he had a front-row seat for the grand spectacle that was Augustine Sycamore rubbing his bare ankles together, his breath hitching at the contact.
"I could massage them for you," Lysandre heard himself say. He clenched the fists he’d safely pressed on his knees and cursed himself inwardly. He kept his gaze even, staring at the soles of the professor’s shoes.
"Oh, that would be lovely." The shoes shifted as he uncrossed his legs and then crossed them again, the other way around. "You do have very nice, very big hands. I wouldn’t be surprised if you could grab both of my ankles one-handed."
Lysandre’s hands were sweaty. He could feel his gloves sticking to his palms.
"Yes," he said, unsure what exactly he was agreeing to.
With a pleased hum, the professor finally lifted his legs off of his desk. Lysandre let his eyes slide up just in time to catch one last look at the reddened skin of his ankles before blinking away, back toward his knees.
"Well then, let’s get back to work," the professor said, cheerful as ever. He waited for Lysandre to meet his gaze so he could grin at him, his eyes narrowed. "Now that I’ve got something to look forward to."
"Yes," Lysandre repeated, getting up from his chair a little too fast for his liking.
Mercifully, the professor restrained from making any remark about his enthusiasm – though Lysandre had no doubt he wouldn’t be so kind, later, when they’d be finished with work and would move on to leisure.
Fandom: Pokémon X&Y
Pairing: Professor Augustine Sycamore/Lysandre
Rating: T
Summary: "I was staring at your ankles," Lysandre corrected. "Ankles are part of the legs, not... the feet."
Notes: For the prompt "Lysandre's ankle kink." (More or less.)
AO3 Link: Here.
"Lysandre."
He blinked, his eyes snapping back toward the professor’s face. He was slumped against the back of his office chair, his legs resting on his desk, crossed at the ankles. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway, revealing way more of his chest than was appropriate in the workplace; to his defense, it was stiflingly hot in the room, despite the low rumble of the rotating fan.
"Professor?" Lysandre replied. He’d been perusing through the mess left on the side of the gramophone before he’d let himself be– distracted. "You were saying?"
The professor smiled at him. "I’m surprised you haven’t told me off for putting my shoes up on the desk.” When Lysandre merely kept frowning at him, he added, “You’ve been staring at my feet for the better part of five minutes."
"I was staring at your ankles," Lysandre corrected. Then he closed his mouth so hard his teeth made a very unpleasant noise. He turned back toward the gramophone. "Ankles are part of the legs, not... the feet."
"Right," the professor said. It sounded like he was holding back a laugh.
"You’re not wearing socks," Lysandre went on, unsure as to why exactly he felt the need to justify himself. He grabbed a disc that had slipped between the small table and the wall.
"My feet get too hot if I wear them in this weather." He heard the chair swivel but didn’t turn to see what the professor was doing, instead focusing on putting the disc back on the nearby pile. "Then my ankles get swollen."
There was no ignoring the emphasis he’d put on the word. Lysandre cleared his throat and looked back at him. He was still sprawled on his chair, but he’d turned so that now Lysandre could see the ankle he’d tucked over his other leg at an even better angle. It was a little red. Maybe even a little sore.
"See? They’re already swelling a bit." The professor sighed, bending his knee so he could scratch at the flushed skin. Lysandre felt somewhat faint, which could be explained by the fact that he was wearing his usual pick of clothing despite the heat.
He took a few steps and sat down on the chair facing the desk. From there, he had a front-row seat for the grand spectacle that was Augustine Sycamore rubbing his bare ankles together, his breath hitching at the contact.
"I could massage them for you," Lysandre heard himself say. He clenched the fists he’d safely pressed on his knees and cursed himself inwardly. He kept his gaze even, staring at the soles of the professor’s shoes.
"Oh, that would be lovely." The shoes shifted as he uncrossed his legs and then crossed them again, the other way around. "You do have very nice, very big hands. I wouldn’t be surprised if you could grab both of my ankles one-handed."
Lysandre’s hands were sweaty. He could feel his gloves sticking to his palms.
"Yes," he said, unsure what exactly he was agreeing to.
With a pleased hum, the professor finally lifted his legs off of his desk. Lysandre let his eyes slide up just in time to catch one last look at the reddened skin of his ankles before blinking away, back toward his knees.
"Well then, let’s get back to work," the professor said, cheerful as ever. He waited for Lysandre to meet his gaze so he could grin at him, his eyes narrowed. "Now that I’ve got something to look forward to."
"Yes," Lysandre repeated, getting up from his chair a little too fast for his liking.
Mercifully, the professor restrained from making any remark about his enthusiasm – though Lysandre had no doubt he wouldn’t be so kind, later, when they’d be finished with work and would move on to leisure.