Very Busy

His office was quiet as you entered, nothing but the sound of rustling papers every so often and the muffled bass of the club music emanating from the floor below. You closed the door behind you, then strode up to his desk with your hands clasped behind your back in false innocence.

“Hi, Silco,” you purred.

“Hello, darling,” he hummed, not looking up from his files. His voice was guarded. Fond, but distant. You knew better than to disturb him while he was working.

But right now, you just couldn't help it.

Right now, you needed him.

Silco, we're both right-handed. Do you know what this means? We need to make out.