[This started small, honest. It also started as something completely different and better and managed to turn into this.]
"I can assure you, Mr. Hespe-"
Elegant fingers curl around the dark, expensive fabric of the businessman's shoulder in such a casual way that one could only feel more at ease with the movement. Unless of course, one was aware it was a movement that sharp blue eyes follow
"No no, call me Dave."
The fingers slip down, splaying across Dave's shoulders as Adam smiles and manoeuvres him out of the boardroom and into the office right next door that is still in Michael's line of sight.
It's the megawatt smile paired with one too many casual brushes of the hands while pens are passed back and forth that seals the fate of Michael's favourite pen; death by excessive pressure. At least it doesn't land itself in the eyes of his potential new client, surely Adam appreciates that after all the work that he has put into charming Mr. Hesperus -sorry, Dave- into signing a deal with Seraphim over the last two hours. Perhaps the longest two hours of Michaels relatively short life, but there was only so much that he could take watching Adam work his magic and be forced to smile and watch as his (his, damnit) whatever Adam was get groped in front of him.
Alright, so Adam might argue about the groping bit, but Michael knows that Dave did not, at all, need to sit so close to Adam while they were going over the contract. Nor did he have to let his fingers brush across Adam's when the blond handed over a coffee. Or breathe the same air as Adam, now that Michael thought about it.
"Mr. Milton?"
The businessman startled at the sound of his name, quickly hiding his bent and broken pen beneath the desk but apparently not quickly enough if the raised eyebrow and quirk of a grin on Adam's face is any indication. Gods above, Michael hated that grin. Almost as much as he hated how Adam sees the need to put his hand on Dave's shoulder, arm nearly wrapped around the beaming brunet in a display clearly meant to provoke something more out of Michael.
It works.
"What." He tries not to wince at the sharpness of his tone. Adam's smile only grows wider.
"Oh, I just thought you might like to shake hands with our newest partner, Dave." The blond knows exactly what he has been doing to Michael this past hour, exactly. Michael nearly growled, shooting Adam a loaded look (which only elicited more amusement from him) before he stood, one hand hiding a mangled pen with ink stained fingertips behind his back while the other grasped Dave's in a firm (perhaps too firm) handshake.
Cuckolds and Concubines, SPN, Michael/Adam, M, Business AU [1/...]
and betterand managed to turn into this.]"I can assure you, Mr. Hespe-"
Elegant fingers curl around the dark, expensive fabric of the businessman's shoulder in such a casual way that one could only feel more at ease with the movement. Unless of course, one was aware it was a movement that sharp blue eyes follow
"No no, call me Dave."
The fingers slip down, splaying across Dave's shoulders as Adam smiles and manoeuvres him out of the boardroom and into the office right next door that is still in Michael's line of sight.
It's the megawatt smile paired with one too many casual brushes of the hands while pens are passed back and forth that seals the fate of Michael's favourite pen; death by excessive pressure. At least it doesn't land itself in the eyes of his potential new client, surely Adam appreciates that after all the work that he has put into charming Mr. Hesperus -sorry, Dave- into signing a deal with Seraphim over the last two hours. Perhaps the longest two hours of Michaels relatively short life, but there was only so much that he could take watching Adam work his magic and be forced to smile and watch as his (his, damnit) whatever Adam was get groped in front of him.
Alright, so Adam might argue about the groping bit, but Michael knows that Dave did not, at all, need to sit so close to Adam while they were going over the contract. Nor did he have to let his fingers brush across Adam's when the blond handed over a coffee. Or breathe the same air as Adam, now that Michael thought about it.
"Mr. Milton?"
The businessman startled at the sound of his name, quickly hiding his bent and broken pen beneath the desk but apparently not quickly enough if the raised eyebrow and quirk of a grin on Adam's face is any indication. Gods above, Michael hated that grin. Almost as much as he hated how Adam sees the need to put his hand on Dave's shoulder, arm nearly wrapped around the beaming brunet in a display clearly meant to provoke something more out of Michael.
It works.
"What." He tries not to wince at the sharpness of his tone. Adam's smile only grows wider.
"Oh, I just thought you might like to shake hands with our newest partner, Dave." The blond knows exactly what he has been doing to Michael this past hour, exactly. Michael nearly growled, shooting Adam a loaded look (which only elicited more amusement from him) before he stood, one hand hiding a mangled pen with ink stained fingertips behind his back while the other grasped Dave's in a firm (perhaps too firm) handshake.