ехидный

"Oh, you’ve made your point perfectly clear.”

Of all the things that bother him the most in situations like this, it is Archer’s cool demeanor that truly infuriates him. Just how he manages to stay neutral in the face of immediate danger is beyond him, and whilst Proton finds it quite an admirable trait at times, it only serves to antagonize him further in this present moment… So much so, in fact, that his blood is practically boiling as gloved fingers find themselves twisted in the neatly-ironed fabric of his so-called ‘leader’s shirt.

He isn’t used to this. Any normal person would react somehow — rage, terror, nerves, laughter… 

Practically anything would be better than the calm, passive murmurings he’s received in response to his advances, and so it is his need to control the situation that has him forcibly shove the other back against the surface of that Arceus-damned desk that he loves so much, only too happy to smear those pristine clothes into the dust that he’d been wiping away only moments earlier. 

"I hear a little role reversal can be healthy for people in the workplace, so let’s see just how you like being beneath someone else for a change.” 

♚ — But when Proton's gloved fingers wind into the front of his shirt, his eyebrows knit together for a moment and he's glancing from that hand back to its owner and back down to the hand. That shove that forces him back, presses him to the surface of the desk he works on makes the Executive's heart beat quicker. An evident worry flashes in Archer's eyes, even if his face is still void of any other expression, the way his eyes dart from Proton's hand back to the younger Executive's face being twisted by vexation. 

You Make Me Sick