For @midnightsaboteur Reagan & Dorian
Reagan stood there, hands deep in his pockets as he looked on: Dorian leaned against the wall while his bosses secretaries all gushed over him. Your accent is so charming, your suit is so handsome, oh that smile is killer. All of these things were accurate-- but Dorian’s big ego didn’t need to hear that. Reagan just rolled his eyes before marching over, grabbing Dorian but the back of his suit like he was grabbing a kitten by the scruff and started to drag him away. “We have files to go over,” he reminded him. Regan stopped, giving Dorian a moment to straighten himself-- but also giving him the chance to look back at the gaggle of secretaries. “Just a reminder girls,” he pinched the fabric of Dorian’s suit pant, lifting it to reveal the ankle monitor placed on him. “Not everyone in the building is an agent.”
He put an arm around Dorian’s shoulder and continued to lead him through the building. “So... what do you get out of women flirting with you? I thought you were gay?” He asked knowing the answer already. The latter: yes; the former: because it annoys you.