Date: 2009-01-23 07:34 am (UTC)
Nika gave a close-lipped laugh, low and throaty.

"Don't worry about that."

His legs were struck, staggered outward, boots planted firmly, stance wide.

Hips thrust forward, the display of sexuality bold and unmistakable.

Oleksei's hand at his belt was unhesitating, competent, directed.

Liadov lowered his head slightly, intimately, angling his eyes up and under the heavy line of Oleksei's focused brow.

"I hope Isaev hasn't had time to bug my office yet," he purred, "...And that you'd tell me if he had."

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