The way Kurt looks and sounds saying yes sir should be fucking illegal. Corrigan likes to think he's a man of control, that he's able to keep even his most intense feelings under wraps, but his fingers actually flex against the desk with the urge to grab at that neat bun and tug Kurt onto their knees between his legs, or to slide past those plush, slightly-parted lips and into their mouth --

"I'm certainly counting on it," Corrigan says, straightening up, trying to hide his racing, filthy thoughts and overcorrecting into near-robotic detachment. No doubt his constant switching from cool and blunt to welcoming and warm is giving Kurt emotional whiplash. So he tries to strike a happy medium, rolling up his sleeves and nodding towards the door. "You could start with giving me a tour. Call it a working interview, hm?"

Anything to get out of the too-warm office, before Corrigan just bends Kurt over the desk and shows them exactly what sort of assistance he'd like them to be capable of.