the_daffodile
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You help Rafa with some repairs, and he preens.
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A small batch of (slightly suggestive) sketches of everyone's favorite director of the GDA
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“Work comes first,” you assured him.
He sighed.
“…Fine.”
Before you could even celebrate, he pointed a stern finger at you.
“But work comes first.”
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In all honesty, you had no idea how you won this cat and mouse game. Cecil was, first and foremost, a professional. Work always came first—you knew that. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t try to get under his skin a little. And after many long months of “accidental” touches, teasing words, and palpable sexual tension, your hard work had paid off.
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“I just…don’t know if we can rely on him to help us. You remember how it was.”
Mordecai perked up, pulling himself up slightly from his slouched position. What were they talking about? They weren’t talking about what he thought they were talking about, were they? Who were they talking about?
“We don’t even know where Brick is,” Roland muttered, “There’s been zero contact since—“
Ah.
Brick.
Mordecai tuned out the rest of their conversation as his thoughts overtook him.
Unfortunately for him, Mordecai was cursed with knowledge.
He knew where Brick was.
And his near constant drunken state meant that he had little to no inhibition.
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In which Mordecai storms Thousand Cuts to confront Brick.
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