Work Text:
For a while after you first started your job, you had wondered if your boss’s more unreasonable attributes were the result of some kind of demonic possession. But after this last week, you’re pretty damn certain that he’s the demon.
It first started when he left you with no choice but to wear his jacket home; it was between that or walking home completely indecent. Just don’t let anyone see you, he said. Obviously, he knew that wasn’t going to be possible. Tons of studio employees were hanging around outside, and they remained there even after you had waited an entire hour. His jacket was so distinctive, and so large, and besides the fact that you looked completely ridiculous in it, everyone who saw you could put together at a glance an approximate idea of what had happened, and the rumor mill went completely crazy.
A couple of your coworkers asked about it in the break room later, clearly stifling giggles; you had fibbed that your shirt was torn after it got snagged, and he offered his jacket to cover it up. “S-sure,” they responded, covering their mouths. The second you exited the room, you heard them both laugh hysterically.
Evidently he had decided that his comeuppance for your earlier campaign of intense teasing was incomplete, and he was determined to not just balance the scales, but to severely weigh them in his favor. He seemed to get some kind of twisted satisfaction out of deliberately overloading you with work and intentionally setting you up for failure, and it was driving you completely insane. It’s one thing when he’s a shitty boss because that’s just what comes naturally to him, and it’s another thing entirely when he does it on purpose.
Even worse was the fact that ever since you triggered this little spite-fest, he hadn’t requested sex even once. All that torment and zero relief; it was like you had gone back to before you had agreed to your coworkers-with-benefits arrangement, except somehow worse. It’s really not like him to hold out for so long, as he usually struggles to even go a couple days without. You’re pretty damn certain that he’s just trying to goad you into crawling back to him, along with an extra serving of additional humiliation from how poorly he’s been treating you. You’re far too stubborn to give in, but his relentlessly spiteful treatment combined with your continuously-building sexual frustration had plummeted your job satisfaction to an all-time low.
Now, you’re juggling three separate tasks, each of them laborious enough to have warranted being assigned to three separate individuals. You developed dark bags under your eyes from the exhaustion of a week’s straight of 14-hour work days, and your mentality felt about as sturdy as a thin, slightly-cracked champagne glass.
You wince as you hear his voice coming from the intercom on your desk. “Heeellooooo, [Y/N], would you mind stepping into my office for a moment?”
“…Be right there,” you murmur. At this point, you had given up hope that these summons were for the sake of offering you that stress relief you so badly wanted. You stand and walk over to his office.
You reach up and twist the large brass handle connected to the proportionally huge door, and you step inside. He regards you with a wide smile. “My goodness, you look just terrible! What have I told you about making time to relax and unwind, huh?” His shit-eating grin only gets wider as he finishes speaking, relishing in your torment.
You stare at him coldly. “…What do you want?”
He cockily crosses his legs on the surface of his desk. “Oooh, touchy! Now, is that any way to speak to your superiors?”
You say nothing. If looks could kill, his head would’ve exploded.
He cackles, amused by your agitation. “Aaaaaanyway. Now… if you’re not too busy— and you’re not too busy, right? I’ve got a couple of spec scripts here that I need edited. Now, I know what you’re gonna say, ‘that’s a job for the writing department,’ blah blah blah, but I think you really ought to be more open to diversifying your skills.” He slides a hefty stack of papers towards you. “So if you could get that done before the end of the day, that would be just great.”
You walk up to his oversized desk and reach to grab the papers, looking at him with an expression as cold and sharp as the blade of a knife.
“There you go,” he says, smirking. “Oh, and… [Y/N]?” He crosses his arms behind his head. “Why don’t you go get me another cup of coffee while you’re at it.”
The request hits your mind like a sledgehammer hitting a window. You stare blankly for a moment before you suddenly burst into laughter; he reacts with alarm at your unexpected shift in demeanor, pulling his legs off the desk and sitting up straight. You continue to laugh as you take the stack of papers and toss them behind you, showering the room in a scatter of white.
“Hahahaha… ahahahahahaaa! …Oh, Mr. Tenna. Go fuck yourself.”
He stammers, unprepared to handle this kind of outburst. “W-what!? Don’t act like—”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP,” you demand, stepping towards him. “I’m sick of you. SICK. You’ve acted like a goddamn petulant child all week, and I’ve had enough of it! You think this behavior is warranted!? Or are you just using my one-time misbehavior to give yourself a free pass to be as big of an asshole as you want!?”
His expression becomes stern and he stands, using his significant height advantage to loom imposingly over you. “Why yes, I do think my behavior is warranted. Because I still don’t think you understand what it means to face the consequences of your actions.”
“Haven’t you done enough!?” you demand, clenching your fists. “How much do I have to suffer before you’re satisfied!?”
He smiles coldly. “I’ll know when I see you acting sufficiently sorry.”
You look down at the ground, still and quiet for a moment, his smugness filling you with an overflowing rage. When you look up at him again, you roughly grab his tie, and summoning every ounce of your strength, you pull it roughly downwards and to the side.
He might’ve been able to resist that move if he had anticipated it, but your physical outburst threw him entirely off-guard. He stumbles and falls, hitting the ground with a thud. “H-HEY!” he shouts. “Don’t you put your hands on me, you little—”
You shove his back onto the ground and move to straddle his shoulders, roughly grabbing his collar. “I. Am not. Putting up with this shit anymore. Do you understand me?” you ask sharply.
“I— I, I— ah, um,” he stammers, his screen turning pink. He could feel his heart skipping he looked up at you, feeling oddly excited by this unexpected turn of events. He could easily push you off of him if he wanted to, but for whatever reason, he was compelled not to.
“I need you to apologize. Now.”
“W-what!?” He grits his teeth, summoning his stubbornness to push away his budding compulsion to submit. “N-no! No, absolutely not!”
You slam his collar down, pinning his head to the ground. “I said apologize. Apologize for being a spiteful, vindictive little shit and maybe I’ll find it in myself to forgive you.”
He gulps, his heart rate quickening, but he’s not quite ready to give over yet. He forces his expression into something a bit less flustered and tries to put on his usual domineering bravado: “…I just don’t know what you mean, [Y/N]. What do I have to apologize for? Being your boss? Making you do your job?”
You laugh quietly. “Okay! Well, if that’s how you’re going to be, we can do this the hard way.” You reach into your back pocket; a few days ago, you found a cylindrical magnet while you were browsing at a second-hand store, and filled with spite and recalling something about how they had peculiar effects on CRT screens, you bought it. You had been carrying it around ever since, just on the off chance that you would find yourself in a situation exactly like this.
He gasps as he sees you pull it forward. “W-woah, woah, woah, woah! Easy there, that’s… C-come on! We can talk this out like rational adults!”
You smile at him, lifting the magnet up and dangling it a few feet away from his face. “No. I think we’re well past that point.” You slowly start to lower the magnet. “Now get to apologizing or else you’re gonna taste the rainbow.”
“Aa-aaah…!” He sputters in a panic as the magnet continues to lower. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, okay, I’m sorry! I knew what I was doing, and I shouldn’t have done it, I… I’m sorry! P-please just… just— not the face!”
“And what is ‘it,’ exactly?” The magnet continues to very, very slowly lower.
“I… I gave you too much work on purpose! J-just because I was mad at you! And… and it was way more than was justified!”
You slow the magnet’s descent. “And?”
“A-and I gave you that spreadsheet with the wrong data on purpose! And I was the one who shuffled up all those applications after you already arranged them! A-and… and I was the one who loosened the screws on your desk chair!”
“What!? Oh, you son of a bitch!” You had really thought that last one was just a fluke. You growl, moving the magnet closer. “KEEP GOING. You know there’s more.”
“Aaaaah— stop, stop! I’m… I’m sorry for tearing up your clothes and making you wear my jacket! I… I only did it because I knew you’d be embarrassed! I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please— please forgive me!”
You chuckle quietly. “You know what? Pretty good performance.” A sinister grin creeps across your face. “So I guess I’ll only make you endure this for a little bit.” The magnet drops onto the bottom right corner of his screen, making his display light up with a vibrant, shifting array of red, blue, and green.
“AAAAAHH— aaaah!? Aaa…!? A-aa-aa… mmnnnh!?” A shiver passes through Tenna’s body as his mind literally starts to bend. He had been expecting it to hurt—and frankly, so had you—but instead, it just feels bizarre. What he was not expecting was the fact that with every passing second, the sensation got more pleasant.
You slowly drag the magnet over to the other side of his screen. “Mnnh… aa-aaaaa-aAAAAAhhh..!” he cries loudly as the bands of color radiate outwards in a pattern that mimics the magnetic field. You blink, perplexed at his reaction. Why did that sound like a moan?
You pull the magnet away, and the colors on his screen slowly start to fade back to normal, leaving behind a slight discoloration. You expected him to be furious at you, and were halfway assuming that you’d walk away from the encounter newly fired. But he just lies there, panting; now that his colors aren’t being hijacked, you can see just how much he’s blushing. You peek over your shoulder; he’s at full mast.
You turn back around, your mouth hanging open slightly. You start to climb off of him. “Um… Well, I guess that’s—”
“Wait,” he says, grabbing your thigh. “W-wait, wait, don’t…” He trails off, breathing heavily.
You go quiet for a second before you tilt your head and huff a laugh. “Hold on. Don’t tell me you actually want more of that?”
His screen turns red. “I, I— I, um. um.”
“I thought I was supposed to be threatening you.”
“Then quit being so hot when you’re trying to threaten me!” he says frustratedly, turning his head away.
You sigh. It sure was hard to stay angry with him when he got all flustered. You gently tilt his head back towards you and press your lips against his screen; he gasps quietly, but then you feel little static zaps along the glass as he starts to kiss you back. You pull up and gently stroke your fingertips along the edge of his screen.
He grins shakily. “…I thought you were supposed to be mad at me.”
“Then quit being so cute when I’m trying to be mad at you.”
He giggles, his grip on your legs getting a little tighter.
“Okay.” You lift up the magnet again. “You ready?”
“Mmnnh…! Y-yeah,” he gasps, biting his lip.
You press the magnet against the upper-left portion of his screen, and he’s once again overtaken by the shifting rainbow pattern. “A-a-a-aaAAAaaaah—“ he moans as you start to slide it lower.
“How does that feel for you, exactly?” you ask.
“Mmmmnh! Nnnh, nh— a lot— it’s… a… a lot!”
“But it’s good, right?”
“Mnnnhh…! Mm-hmm, mm-hmm!”
“Then what if I do this?” You move your free hand up to gingerly stroke one of his antennas, moving your fingertips slowly from the bottom to the top.
The antenna goes rigid, and he bucks his hips up. “O-oh— oh, that’s… mmmmmnh! A-aaa-aaaah…!”
You lift the magnet up to allow you to clearly see his expression. His mouth hangs open, little beads of sweat falling down his display. “More?” you ask.
“P-please… please,” he gasps.
You place the magnet back down on the surface, gently taking his other antenna between your thumb and pointer finger as you watch the colors dance across the surface of the screen. He dissolves into total incoherence, letting out whimpering moans and gasping every time you move either of your hands, grasping a little tighter on your legs as his hands start to shake.
“Tell me if it becomes too much.”
He shakes his head. “Nnn— nuh-uh, k-keep— aaAAAAaaaaaah!” he cries out as you gently stroke your fingers along the length of his antenna, circling his display with the magnet.
“Oh? That’s not too much, is it?” You smirk deviously. “Then what about this?” Your pointer finger parts from your thumb, and you bend the wire just slightly.
“AAAAH— aaa-AAAH!” he cries out, arching his back as the jolt of pain shoots through his head.
“Well?”
“Mmnnhh… Nh-hhh…” he shakes his head just slightly.
“Really? Oh, but that looked like it hurt.” You take ahold of his other antenna. “Don’t tell me you want me to do it again.”
He whimpers.
“Hahaha… fine. Have it your way.” You very slowly, painstakingly bend the other wire.
His fist pounds the ground as he’s once again flooded with that pleasurable pain, wailing incoherently. You delicately straighten both wires, and then lift up the magnet. As his picture clears, you see that his tongue hangs out of his mouth just slightly, and a deep pink blush tints his display.
“Boy, I would have vented my frustrations on you sooner if I had known you would like it this much.”
He tries to speak, and only manages a trembling little cry.
You reapply the magnet, and he reacts with a gasp. You slowly move it across the surface of the display, watching his pleasured reactions and the way the bands of color dance about the screen, feeling just slightly envious that your own anatomy wouldn’t allow you to experience what that feels like. Then, you slowly reach out and grab ahold of the dial on the side of his screen.
His breath catches as he feels your fingers taking hold of it, and as you gently start to turn it, he reacts so violently that you nearly fall over. He cries out and thrusts his hips into the air, his tight pants barely containing the massive erection tenting through the fabric. “A-aaaAAAAaaAAAAAH! Y-YES! YES, YES!” he moans, his trembling fingers trying to grip the floor.
“Oh, does that feel good?” you ask teasingly.
“NnnaaaaaAAAAAghhhh…! A-aaaAAAaAaAAAAaAAAAAH!”
You stop turning it. “You didn’t answer my question.”
He catches his breath for a moment before he’s able to respond. “Y-yes, yes, yes, p-please, please keep— aaaAaAAAaAAAAAH!” You turn the dial again, interrupting his brief moment of coherence.
You keep slowly turning and slowly shifting the magnet, his reactions getting louder and more violent with each passing second. You smirk, noticing that the sounds he’s making are the same ones he makes when he’s right about to cum. With that, you release your grasp on the dial and draw the magnet back.
He holds his breath for a moment as his picture starts to return to slightly-chromatic normalcy, and then lets out a shaky whine. He tilts his head up to look at you, looking somewhat devastated, and lets his head fall back with a groan that nearly sounds like he’s about to cry.
You tilt your head, your expression becoming colder. “So… what do you want?”
He just whimpers quietly, his body trembling beneath yours.
“Answer me. What do you want?”
He pants, failing to answer you a moment, before he haltingly responds. “I… I… I don’t know, I don’t know, what— whatever you want.”
You huff. “You already know what that is, don’t you? Not just now, but for this entire godforsaken week.” You lift off his shoulders and move yourself to press between his legs, taking a hold of the large, hard mass straining the fabric of his pants. At this point, it had left an appreciably-sized wet spot. He bucks up against your touch with a shaky groan.
You stroke your hands along his length, addressing him in a stern and authoritarian tone. “By the way? Your apology earlier was incomplete. You were missing something. A big something. And I shouldn’t have to tell you what that is.”
He needs no further prompting to understand what you meant. “I— I’m sorry for being withholding! I… I didn’t want to do it either, I just… I just… I wanted you to ask for it!”
“But you didn’t deserve for me to ask for it, not when you were acting like that. Never do that again. Do you understand me?”
“I won’t! I won’t, I won’t! I’ll… I’ll give it to you whenever you want!”
“Without me having to ask. And if I do ask, it’ll be because you earned it.”
He grins slightly, tingling at your implication that you had been just as desperate for it as he was. “Mmmmh! Of course, I— a-anything you want.”
You gently run your fingertip along the ridge of his tip. “So?”
He looks up at you, breathing heavily. “…Huh?”
“I said without me having to ask.”
“A-aah!” he gasps, catching on to your meaning. “P-please… please, [Y/N], please fuck me! P-please, I— I’ve wanted it so bad, it’s been all that I can think about, p-please—”
“Really? Have you earned that? Do you deserve it?”
“N-no… No, I… I haven’t.”
“Continue,” you insist, unbuckling his belt.
“I… I don’t deserve it, I’ve been bad, I’ve been— I’ve been so, so bad,” he gasps, his hips starting to pulse in a desperate bid for stimulation. “B-but, please, please… I need it, I need it, I— I need it more than anything!”
“Really,” you say, grinning, grabbing ahold of his waistband. “You really need it? You really can’t go another second without it?” You slowly start to pull his pants down.
“A-aaaah— aah, yes, yes, yes, yes, please— please, please [Y/N], p-please!”
You laugh softly as his cock is exposed, so hard and needy that it pulses in the air. You gently run your fingertips down the shaft. “Wow, you really are desperate.” You draw your hand away and stand up. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have pissed me off.”
He looks up at you, letting out a quiet, horrified whine as you walk away from him. “N-no… no, no, no, no, please!”
“I don’t think you’re in any position to bargain with me right now, Mr. Tenna,” you say to him coldly.
He covers his face with a loud, disappointed groan. “N-nooo… no, no, no!” he whines.
Now that he’s sufficiently distracted, you walk up to his oversized desk and pull open the top drawer. You fish around blindly until your hand comes in contact with the bottle of lube that he keeps stored in there for your encounters, and you pull it out and walk back over to him, kneeling between his legs again. “Just kidding,” you say with a smirk.
“M-mean! That was mean!” he cries quietly.
“I know,” you respond, chuckling quietly as you squeeze a generous portion of the lube onto your palm. You use both hands, applying it from the base to the tip. He lets out a shuddering cry in response to your touch and starts to gently thrust his hips.
You draw your hands away. “Don’t get greedy. Stay still,” you demand.
“Nnnghhh…” he whines, tilting his head back.
As you finish getting him nice and slick, you draw back, removing your clothes below the waist. Once you’re finished, you step on his stomach and look coldly down at him. “You had better not take this for granted ever again. Think of that disappointment you felt when I denied you just now, and imagine that multiplied tenfold, over and over again for the rest of your goddamn life. I never had to agree to this in the first place, and I will revoke the privilege if I feel like you don’t deserve it. Have I made myself clear?”
He whimpers quietly, covering his face to conceal his embarrassment and frustration. “Y-yes. Yes. I understand. I’m sorry.”
“Good.” You lower yourself. “Then it’s time you got to making up for all the times you fucked me over this week.” You’d have liked to take him in the instant you finished saying that, but he’s a bit too large for such well-timed gestures. He cries out as he feels the tip of his cock pressing against you, and bucks his hips up to encourage it to enter.
You lift up. “STAY STILL,” you reprimand.
He’s too overwhelmed to respond, letting out little frustrated whines on every exhale.
You try again, and grit your teeth as a surge of pain shoots through your lower body at the moment of insertion. He immediately wraps his arms around his head and cries out, so sensitive and desperate from pent-up desire that he already feels ready to burst. You try to remain stoic as you take him further down, not allowing yourself the little whimpers that you typically make, and once you finally ease yourself down to the base, you let out a long, pleasured exhale, suddenly recalling the reason why you hadn’t stormed out of here and quit ages ago.
You grip onto his tie with a sharp tug as you start to ride, and his head falls back. “A-aaa-aaAAAAAH! A-aa-aa-aah, y-y-y-e-e-ess,” he chokes out, his hips twitching as he just barely restrains his body’s compulsion to thrust up and fuck you harder.
You smile darkly as you start to pick up your pace. He hadn’t quite learned his lesson yet, but he was about to. He’s so sensitive and eager for relief that not more than a minute after you’ve started, his wailing moans are already crescendoing to the point that you can tell that he’s right about to cum. You suddenly lift off of him.
He chokes at the sudden revocation of the relief he wanted so badly. Getting so close and having the sensation torn away was disorienting enough to make it feel like the room was spinning, and all he can manage to say is a barely audible “…Why?”
“After all you’ve put me through, you really think you can get away with not even letting me cum? Not a goddamn chance.”
“I— I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just— just let me try again.”
“Have a fucking ounce of self-control, would you?” You take him back in. He moans softly as you ride slowly, rolling your hips on every pulse. But then you’re filled with too great an urge to torment him again, and you resume your previous rapid pace.
His fists pound the ground as he’s flooded with overwhelming stimulation, his breaths coming at a rate so frantic that he’s nearly hyperventilating. He holds out slightly longer this time, but not by much. As he can feel himself getting close, he chokes out, “P-please… please, please cum, I— I don’t know how much longer I can—”
You pull him out again. “Oh, we can do this for as long as I need you to.”
He lets out an agonized whimper. “N-n-nooo… noooooooo…!”
You take him in again, stopping just below the tip. “Oh? You wanna cum? It’s been too long, right? You need it so, so bad?”
“Y-y-yes, yes, p-please… Please…!”
You pull his tie harder. “Then beg.”
“A-a-aaah— nngh, p-please… [Y/N], please, please, I need it, I— I need it so bad I can’t even think, please, oh, f-f-fuck, please, PLEASE!” he cries out as you slowly start to take him.
“Keep going. Prove to me that you’ve earned it.”
“P-please, please, I— I’ll be good from now on, I’ll never mess with your work again, I— I promise, I promise, so please, please, please just let me cum! Please!” He’s so desperate that it sounds like he’s nearly on the verge of weeping.
You go a little faster. “Come on. You’re getting there.”
“[Y/N]… [Y/N], I’ll… I’ll do anything, I’ll do anything, anything, I’m— I’m begging you, just please… please don’t stop, please don’t stop, please, please, PLEASE don’t stop…!”
“Fine.” You start fucking him frantically again, and he cries out, his body spasming with pleasurable overstimulation. “Just keep going or I might change my mind.”
“I— I can’t, I can’t, it— it feels too— gh— aaaAAAAaaaAAAHH! Aa— aaaaAAaah…! P-please, gh-AAAAAaaah, aaAAAAH!”
Seeing him trying to keep begging through the onslaught fills you with incredible satisfaction, and you can also feel yourself drawing close. As you hear his pleasured cries starting to escalate yet further, you interrupt your pace and very slowly draw yourself up, threatening to pull away again; he falls for it, and immediately cries out in protest. “N-NO! NO, NO, NO, PLEASE— PLEASE, PLEASE, JUST LET ME—”
You slam down again, moving yourself up and down his shaft at an overwhelmingly rapid pace, and he grips onto your hips tightly and loses himself in a fit of incoherent screams. “A-AAAAAAAAAAH! AAAH, AAAH, AAAH, AAA-A-A-AAAAAAAAAAAH!”
You shiver with gratification as that staticky feeling of his cum fills you up, and the secondhand relief from watching him get what he wanted so badly sends you over the edge as well, although perhaps not quite as violently. “Mmnnnnhhhh! A-aaaah, y-yes! YES!” you snarl, pulling his tie so hard that his chest arches up and his head falls back.
You release his tie, closing your eyes for a moment as a flood of satisfaction crashes over you, feeling instantly like you’re much less sleep-deprived and overworked than you actually are. When you open your eyes again, his display is projecting static.
You laugh quietly, reaching forward to stroke his chest. “There. Was that what you wanted?”
His voice comes out sounding distant and compressed. “Y-y-yeah. Yeah.”
You stand up, reach up onto his desk to grab a tissue, and wipe yourself off. “Alright. Well, let’s put this petty little conflict behind us. I won’t mess with you, and you won’t mess with me. Do you agree?”
Tenna can barely understand what you’re saying, much less speak. The static cuts off, replaced by his usual face, albeit slightly discolored. He whimpers out a quiet “Mm-hmm.”
You pull your clothes back on. “And I’ll be delegating some of the tasks you gave me to the other administrative staff. And please do not assign any others until I’m finished with the one I’m working on.”
He nods, staring up at the ceiling and breathing heavily.
You check the clock as you reach down and gently stroke the perimeter of his screen. “Your two-o-clock broadcast is on in twenty minutes. You’d better try to pull yourself together.”
He nods, shivering at your touch.
“Hold on… Let me fix your screen.” You press his power button; his display goes black. When you press it again, he’s still wearing that same dazed, overwhelmed expression, but his colors are back to normal. “There you go.”
“T-thanks,” he says weakly.
You stand, turn around, and kick at the papers scattered around the floor. “…And clean this up.”
He nods.
“Alright, then,” you say, laughing quietly. “I’ll be at my desk.”
—
And with that, everything had returned to relative normalcy. Better than normal, actually. For the first time ever, you were able to detect that he was actively making an attempt to win your favor. You had even gone home at a reasonable hour twice in the following week.
A few days later, you had just arrived at work, sitting at your desk and starting to assemble a to-do list. He strolls up to you holding a conspicuously small mug of coffee relative to the extra-large one he typically drinks from. “Gooood morning, sunshine!” He places the mug on your desk. “Thought I’d offer a little something to put a bit of pep in your step.”
You slide the mug closer to yourself, smiling up at him. “Aw… That’s… that’s actually really sweet of you. Thank you, Mr. Tenna.”
He grins widely at the praise and clears his throat before continuing. “Now, I’ve got a packed schedule this morning, but I think it’s going to clear up around the mid-afternoon. You know, if you wanted to… take a break.”
You smirk, sipping the coffee. “Of course.”
He looks around to check that no one else is in earshot. “You, um… you wouldn’t happen to still have…” his voice drops to a whisper, “that… magnet, would you?”
You reach into your desk, pulling out the little silver cylinder, and twirl it between your fingers.
“Eheheheh…!” he laughs shakily, blushing. “W-well! Well then.” He coughs, trying to collect himself. “I… well, that’s… that’s good to know.”
“I’ll keep it on me,” you say, tucking it into your pocket.
He exhales loudly. “Okay… Okay! Well, let’s get to work, then! No distractions!” He hurries off to his office.
“Sure,” you say, laughing quietly.