Mayor's brother Len flirting with Secretary Mick while he waits for his sis to get off work. (I adore fire fighter Mick but it's an amusing idea.)
“Hello, Hot Stuff.” purrs someone from the opening elevator.
Mick Rory fights the urge to stick his fist in his mouth and scream and forces himself to look up and smile pleasantly at Senator Leonard Snart.
“Good afternoon, sir.” Mick says, successfully swallowing the urge to say something like ‘please just fucking kiss me this time’ or ‘if you just asked me to suck your dick in the bathroom I would’. He only manages such a feat by means of a voice in his head - that sounds remarkably like Senator Snart’s assistant Amaya – reminding him that the Senator was his boss’s brother and therefore it was even more of a terrible idea than it might otherwise be.
“And how are you this pleasant afternoon?” Senator Snart asks, swaggering over to Mick’s desk and then propping a hip on it so he can loom in Mick’s general direction. Well, it’s not looming. It’s more like aura-projecting, and it mostly serves to make Mick want to slide off his chair onto his knees and get the Senator’s pants open.
“I’m very good, thank you, sir.” says Mick, and swallows, looking away. “The Mayor is free, if you want to go in.”
Senator Snart smirks a little, and then pushes off the desk.
“Thank you, Mister Rory.” he says, and Mick shudders, just a little. The door to Mayor Snart’s office clicks closed while Mick’s eyes are squeezed shut.
“That was fucking painful to watch.” says Amaya. Mick’s eyes snap open. He hadn’t even seen her come in with the Senator.
“Are you going to tell him that you want him to fuck you six ways to Sunday sometime soon, or is the unresolved sexual tension going to suffocate all of the rest of us first?”
“Shut up shut up shut up.” says Mick, and lets his forehead fall down onto his desk.
“The second option, then.” says Amaya, and she puts the cup of hot coffee she was carrying down on the desk next to his face.
“Are you going to tell Commissioner West you want her to sit on your face?” hisses Mick, in retaliation. Amaya – who is a very chatty drunk, the only reason Mick knows that particular piece of information regarding her very large crush on Central City Police Commissioner Iris West – goes bright red and shoves the base of her iced coffee against the exposed back of Mick’s neck, making him yelp and slap his hand over the cold spot.
“So you have no leg to stand on.” he says.
“We’ll both suffer in silence.” she responds, and the two of them settle in to wait.
“You know,” says Mayor Snart, later, as the two of them watch the elevator doors close behind the Senator and Amaya, “I can tell him to back off with the flirting if it’s making you uncomfortable.”
Mick looks over at her in alarm. He loves working for Lisa, and he very much does not want the Senator to stop, and honestly he doesn’t know if there’s a right answer in this situation. Lisa gives him a cryptic look that seems to originate sidelong out of the corners of her eyes.
“Or not. That’s fine too.”
Mick shuffles his feet a little.
“The second option, then.” she says, and shakes her head. “I need the budget documents formatted and rounded up and bound tonight. Could be a late one.”
“You have a dinner meeting with the part of the City Council you don’t like tonight.” Mick says. “You’ve already rescheduled once. You’re not getting out of it.”
Lisa hisses out a breath between her clenched teeth.
“I’ll find you some company.” she says.
Mick pats her on the shoulder and heads back to his desk, fully prepared to be there until one or two in the morning.
Lisa’s lucky he likes her so much.
Naturally, Mick just about jumps out of his skin when the elevator doors slide open at eight, and reveal Senator Snart, with a plastic bag that smells like Indian and his tie off and the first three buttons on his shirt undone.
“Lisa says you need the company.” he says, and looks around a little. “Is there somewhere I can put this without disrupting anything?”
Mick gestures at two square feet of floor not currently covered by the budget he’s binding and prepping with the highlighter in his fingertips, and then seems to fully take in who’s standing there.
“Don’t you have more important things to do than keep me company?”
Senator Snart shrugs.
“It’s either this or get kicked out of yet another Congressional event for punching Paul Ryan.”
To be fair, the Senator has done that an alarming amount of times. Mick’s considering having a desk calendar made.
Two hours later, Mick realizes the Senator is still there, sitting with his back against the drawers of Mick’s desk, answering emails on his phone. He looks up when he realizes Mick’s stopped.
“Am I disturbing you?”
“I’m done.” says Mick, tilting his head to indicate the pile of marked-up and properly bound documents. “I didn’t realize you were planning to stay.”
“Do you want me to go?”
The Senator stands, putting himself back in that same spot he’d been when he was flirting obnoxiously that morning. Mick doesn’t know if that’s a deliberate choice or not, but it does make up Mick’s mind.
“I want to know if you’re serious when you’re flirting with me.” he says.
The Senator’s eyes widen, and then they’re kissing. Senator Leonard Snart is currently straddling Mick’s lap in Mick’s ridiculous office swivel chair at one in the morning and kissing him like it’s the last thing he will ever be able to do.
“Does that answer your question?” says Len. His eyes are even bluer up-close like this.
Mick smiles, and wraps his arms a little more securely around Len’s waist.
“Yeah, I think it does.”
“Hello, Hot Stuff!” Len calls, when the elevator doors open. Lisa, standing behind Mick’s desk while she drops off a new round of memos, shakes her head.
“Hello yourself, Snowflake.” says Mick. Behind him, he can hear Lisa choking on air, and Amaya trips over her own feet.
“There’s a dinner tonight I could use a date to.” Len says, propping his hip against Mick’s desk.
Mick pretends to consider it, mostly so he can focus on not thinking about how Len had fucked him over that particular bit of desk just under 36 hours ago.
“Is Paul Ryan going to be there?”
“Yes, but I had to promise that I wouldn’t punch him.”
“I didn’t.” says Mick, and Len leans over and kisses him.
“Finding loopholes already – you’re a natural.” deadpans Amaya.
“Maybe if you found a clue –“ Mick starts.
“Mikaere Rory.” Amaya snarls.
Len tilts his head back and laughs, and Mick can hear Lisa laughing with him.
They make the papers the next day, side by side and handsome in their tuxes. Mick pins the article to the wall of his desk.