[It's possible Val would nobaly volunteer to take on that arduous task. Vox is always saying he needs to get more involved in the business side of things.
He leans into the touch with a pleased little moth squeak, almost a purr, red smoke twisting to caress Vox's screen.]
No one does it better than you, Papi. [He shifts, the toe of a boot resting between Vox's thighs, uncaring about whatever fancy designer furniture he might be scuffing as he teases just shy of giving Vox something to grind against.]
[Maybe they can workshop that later— For now, the squeak is cute, and who cares at all about this office chair; he shifts forward again, shamelessly pressing against Val's boot with a low chuckle.]
Tell me more... Why don't you tell me what this position means to you?
[You know. Like an interview, not that Vox has ever asked that question in an interview, because who cares what the rank and file think. But do play sexy interview with him here and now; he slides his other hand up Val's thigh - the one not busy stepping on him - and digs the tips of his clawed fingers in just so, just enough to leave runs in Val's fishnets. He'll replace them.]
Oh, its everything to me, Sir. I'd do anything to show you just how badly I want this job.
[Sharp teeth catch at his lower lip, a play at coquettish innocence. He misses being on the other side of the camera. He rocks the toe of his boot slowly, his legs falling open.]
The opportunity to work under someone like you-
[The moth bends at the waist, antenna ghosting along Vox's screen, breath hot as he presses a kiss to the glass, his own claws reaching to start loosening that bowtie.]
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no subject
He leans into the touch with a pleased little moth squeak, almost a purr, red smoke twisting to caress Vox's screen.]
No one does it better than you, Papi. [He shifts, the toe of a boot resting between Vox's thighs, uncaring about whatever fancy designer furniture he might be scuffing as he teases just shy of giving Vox something to grind against.]
no subject
Tell me more... Why don't you tell me what this position means to you?
[You know. Like an interview, not that Vox has ever asked that question in an interview, because who cares what the rank and file think. But do play sexy interview with him here and now; he slides his other hand up Val's thigh - the one not busy stepping on him - and digs the tips of his clawed fingers in just so, just enough to leave runs in Val's fishnets. He'll replace them.]
no subject
Oh, its everything to me, Sir.
I'd do anything to show you just how badly I want this job.
[Sharp teeth catch at his lower lip, a play at coquettish innocence. He misses being on the other side of the camera. He rocks the toe of his boot slowly, his legs falling open.]
The opportunity to work under someone like you-
[The moth bends at the waist, antenna ghosting along Vox's screen, breath hot as he presses a kiss to the glass, his own claws reaching to start loosening that bowtie.]