So he wanders into their office, strolling through the door as though he owns the place, casual as can be. They look up from their datapad and crack a smile, guileless fondness open in their expression.
Void alive he loves them.
Skaia perches himself--after clearing a suitable space for both his ass and the next stage of his plan--on the edge of their desk, back towards them. The shirt he's got on, which is hardly a shirt at all really, is almost entirely backless and gives Sylvas an unimpeded, close up view of the large, heart-themed tattoo that paints his skin in thick black, permanent, swirling lines. He flops, rather unceremoniously though with a dramatically playful sigh, back into the space he cleared for himself, draping himself over their desk.
"Sylvas?" he's pouting, and he almost feels bad for the shit he's about to pull, when they're giving him that soft, sweet, unconscious smile that melts him from the inside out.
"Yes, my love?" amusement colors their tone and they already know he's up to something, but they're not protesting his sudden invasion of their space, so proceed he must.
He sighs, big and dramatic, and stares up into their eyes from his bizarre vantage point with his lips pursed and as much complaint as he can manage, "Sylvas, I'm horny. I wanna get fucked so good and hard that I forget how to breathe and I can't walk tomorrow."
And if he's shifting around, squirming a little on their desk rubbing his legs together and running his hands through his own hair, well, who can really blame him? He's worked up, all hot and bothered, he has his gorgeous partner right there, and he prepped himself earlier when he was trying to make it work with a vibrator. Not so much effective, the vibrator didn't give him nearly enough of what he wanted.
"Can you help me?"
