[kavinsky's head snaps around. irritation-- mostly pretend— draws his eyebrows together.]
Man, don't fuck around with me. We're fucking— [he throws his arms out, then glances around suddenly, reassuring himself nobody's eavesdropping.] We're fucking working.
[not that he's too disciplined to have sex on the job, just. it's a good excuse, when you lose your nerve.]
no subject
Man, don't fuck around with me. We're fucking— [he throws his arms out, then glances around suddenly, reassuring himself nobody's eavesdropping.] We're fucking working.
[not that he's too disciplined to have sex on the job, just. it's a good excuse, when you lose your nerve.]