Corrigan wrinkles his nose at the mention of the previous owner, following Kurt closely and mentally noting that they barely come up to his shoulder. He's a good few inches past six feet, but he's never felt quite as huge before. He's pretty sure his hand could fit all the way around Kurt’s throat without having to stretch.
Before he thinks better of it, Corrigan’s stopped close enough behind his slight, short maybe-employee that he can see the tiny loose curls at the nape of their neck, brushing the delicate notches of their spine, drawing his eye down beneath the silk. There's one loose strand that's come undone during the walk, and before he can stop himself, Corrigan’s reaching out, slowly hooking his finger beneath the silky lock and guiding it back up into place.
"I hope you deep-cleaned the suite after he left," he jokes, close enough that he can see Kurt’s freckled skin shiver at the heat of his breath. The world stops as he twines the loose strand of hair around the base of their bun, tucks in the end, then lowers his hand. Inside, Corrigan’s thrumming with hunger, with need, but he stays impassive as he steps past Kurt and out the door.
If his interest wasn't obvious before, it certainly is now. He barely glances at them the rest of the walk to the elevator, forcing himself to stay calm, detached. If they're not interested, if they don't try to initiate any more contact, he'll -- deal with it, somehow.
Probably by spending another cool $500 on a personal Freyja stream, but how he copes is his business, okay?
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Before he thinks better of it, Corrigan’s stopped close enough behind his slight, short maybe-employee that he can see the tiny loose curls at the nape of their neck, brushing the delicate notches of their spine, drawing his eye down beneath the silk. There's one loose strand that's come undone during the walk, and before he can stop himself, Corrigan’s reaching out, slowly hooking his finger beneath the silky lock and guiding it back up into place.
"I hope you deep-cleaned the suite after he left," he jokes, close enough that he can see Kurt’s freckled skin shiver at the heat of his breath. The world stops as he twines the loose strand of hair around the base of their bun, tucks in the end, then lowers his hand. Inside, Corrigan’s thrumming with hunger, with need, but he stays impassive as he steps past Kurt and out the door.
If his interest wasn't obvious before, it certainly is now. He barely glances at them the rest of the walk to the elevator, forcing himself to stay calm, detached. If they're not interested, if they don't try to initiate any more contact, he'll -- deal with it, somehow.
Probably by spending another cool $500 on a personal Freyja stream, but how he copes is his business, okay?