<em>"Does this mean you’re not mad anymore?"</em><br/><br/>Oddly enough, Ryan did feel a lot more calm. For a moment he wondered if he really was calm or not and if the other man had anything to do with this. Then he shrugged a shoulder, both to the idea and Damon’s words.<br/>“Maybe,” he said, gaining a bit of a smirk, then a frown when Damon moved away from him.<br/>The frown didn’t stay, though, but melted away when he watched him.<br/>He didn’t, however, make any move to get the two tea.<br/><br/><em>"Next time, not the desk?"</em><br/><br/>Not the desk?<br/><br/>“Perhaps not,” he said quietly, raising a hand to let fingertips stroke along his lips as if recalling a kiss, a taste. The kiss they had just shared. He shivered, lightly, and licked those lips, eyes darkening again, gaze locking unto the other man.<br/><br/>Fuck the mess. The desk would have been fine.<br/><em>Anywhere</em>would have been fine.<br/><br/>“I don’t feel like tea,” he continued, but much more quiet. There was something to his voice, to his intonation. Something that hinted of an eagerness.