The fuck're youse lookin' at?

While his tan’s as guady as ever, his wardrobe isn’t- his usual eye catching suit traded in for a black turtle neck and jeans. It’s a rather tame outfit for the Tiger, but considering he’s walked into the Prosecutor’s office it was probably a good idea that he wasn’t his usual obnoxiously neon self.

“Dunno when youse headed off dis mornin’ but ya left yer wallet by da door.” The Tiger pulled out the said item, gently pushing it over the desk and to his employer, the wallet just short of bopping the blond’s perfect nose. Despite his language and the gesture, it wasn’t malicious, his posture casual and his tone relaxed, or as relaxed as he could be surrounded by authority figures.

“I had court in the morning. Was in a bit of a rush.” He hadn’t spoken much to the other man since drunkenly trying to seduce him. He hadn’t drank since then either. The blonde sat up and rolled his shoulders.

“Why don’t we go get something to eat? On me, naturlich. I know how much you hate authority, and we’re in a building full of cops and prosecutors.” He stood, grabbing his coat instead of waiting for an answer.

He held back the sigh that threatened to leave him, instead masking the motion with his hands moving to his pockets in a way that almost forcibly idle, his gaze moving from Klavier to the floor. 

This was how it started wasn’t it? Klavier saw... Something he wanted and tried to explore it, Tigre snubbed it, and then they followed that pattern until one of them either lost their temper or they separated for months on end until they tumbled into each other again. It was a clear cut and exhausting set of scenarios.

“... A’ight.”

The affirmation is husky, and just as forced as his hands in his pockets. He shouldn’t really feel the way he did about a man half his age but, if his heart hammering in his chest was any indication, the sentiment still burned as strong as ever... A feeling of fear and embarrassment.

It was frightened being so dependent on a man who surpassed himself in every way, and who could utterly destroy him once he’d had his roll in the hay.

Still, the other path was exhausting and, right now, he was tired of being tired.

While his tan’s as guady as ever, his wardrobe isn’t- his usual eye catching suit traded in for a black turtle neck and jeans. It’s a rather tame outfit for the Tiger, but considering he’s walked into the Prosecutor’s office it was probably a good idea that he wasn’t his usual obnoxiously neon self.

“Dunno when youse headed off dis mornin’ but ya left yer wallet by da door.” The Tiger pulled out the said item, gently pushing it over the desk and to his employer, the wallet just short of bopping the blond’s perfect nose. Despite his language and the gesture, it wasn’t malicious, his posture casual and his tone relaxed, or as relaxed as he could be surrounded by authority figures.