Work Text:
Jim never takes Sebastian to a meeting now, or hardly ever does.
He hates those himself, mainly just sits with an expression of sheer boredom and fidgets with his pen, taps it against the notepad and stares out of the window, glares at whoever dares to reprehend him for doing so. He never takes Sebastian, though, unless it’s extremely necessary, security purposes, because the bastard sits without making a sound, pulls on a dull, blank expression and stays in utmost silence, devouring the fuck out of Jim with his eyes.
Jim notices Sebastian watching from the corner of his eye and turns around to glare at him for not concentrating, but then he realises the way Sebastian’s bright, hungry eyes are looking at him, scanning his clothes and lingering a while longer on the visible bits of skin. He feels his insides heat up ridiculously, despite the cold meeting room, then shivers when his gaze meets the sniper’s and he darts his tongue out just slightly, almost imperceptibly licking his lips in a way that drives Jim up the walls.
Sod this, he thinks, and glances impatiently at the clock.