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The suggestion that he deserves a taste earns a brief chuckle from Reeve. Deep and amused and definitely far more confident than the man who first came in. But when the other man comes to a stop he smiles at the man. Gentle, warm. Please.

"You don't even have a really good taste there. Not yet."

Because that's not tempting him at all. Tseng loosens Reeve's tie, tugs it off during the next kiss, his other hand finding the hem of Reeve's shirt to slip underneath and find skin, fingers tracing over what he can reach.

And when that kiss is broken. "How much is too much?"

Oh temptation is half the fun, isn't it? Reeve smiles and reaches up after that kiss, his hand pressing against his chest to still him.

"I've work to do, Tseng. A good bit. And instead I have you in my lap. What am I supposed to do with that?"

"I think a better question would be, what do you want to do?" Because honestly, he's not going to say no to much. Work will be there when they're done and he's already cleared his schedule for this. The offer of dinner still stood, but this was something he'd been looking forward to.

What he wants? Well, his brain is spinning out so many scenarios, many of which end up with him needing to get his suit pressed. But the rest...

"They say that patience can make things sweeter, Tseng. One doesn't, for instance, eat under ripened fruit. Or drink coffee before the pot is fully brewed."

"I'm well aware of the merits of patience, Reeve." It's his means of handling far too many things in his day to day life after all, but there's something to be said for impatience as well, at least when he has something he actually wants in his grasp.

Still, he shifts, moves as if to stand, although Reeve is more than welcome to stop him.

There's a moment where he's got to make a decision. And he watches Tseng, letting the man's body as Tseng rises. So beautiful, so lean.

"I'm of three minds right now. The first says I really need to get my work done. The second just wants to sit here and smile and consider you, think about you like I always have, unattainable and stunning. And the last wants to be a younger man and just push you down onto your desk and leave marks."

He likes the third option.

Tseng leans against the desk, loosening his own tie as he listens to Reeve, his face slipping back into it's neutral mask he's managed to all but perfect.

"And which one are you planning to choose?" Because while number three is his pick, the ball is in Reeve's court for this play. Whether it happens now or later, it's going to happen so he can wait, if he has to.

The first option makes him seem cold, which he's gotten used to being. The second is what his heart is these days. Slow and gentle and needy. Hopeful. A man that wants more than to get laid. The man that he's been for years now, watching and wanting from afar. And the third?

Perhaps he's a touch too sober for that.

"I think I'll get back to work. But you owe me dinner. And dessert."

"Will you drink with dinner?" It's mild enough, Tseng's gaze meeting his for a moment even if he's not moving, his posture as straight as it had been when Reeve walked into the office.

"Or should I prepare something else for you?"

Really? Pressing that question. Reeve chuckles and shakes his head.

"I can probably take a glass of wine without being too in my cups. I do still drink occasionally, just usually alone. And truly, Tseng, you don't want me that handsy."

"And what would give you the idea I wouldn't want that?" It's quieter, something in his tone sounding like he'd very much enjoy that side of Reeve.

"I know the front I present, but behind closed doors, it's not nearly as perfect as it seems."

"You don't know that side of me, Tseng. I gave up on my... old ways. Not long after I arrived here actually," Reeve shrugs. Even getting laid was something that had been lost in the drowning force of work. Still, he's very interested.

Still, it's nice to think he's not the only one who hides something like this.

"You might not be as interested in me once you know what I can be."

"I can guarantee you nothing you do will change my level of interest in you, Reeve." That has a hint of dryness to it, Tseng just eyeing him for a long moment.

"You know what I do and even with that, you still want me, don't you?"

"I suspect things," Reeve dismisses. Because he's no the sort of executive that got DETAILS.

OF course, he was also well aware of his own predilection toward dark and dangerous men when he had the chance. And there was no denying Tseng fit that gap.

"Does the reason for my desire even matter?"

"If you want to share, you can." He'll find out eventually, whether this turns into something more or doesn't. Tseng straightens moving around behind the desk to drop into his chair.

"But suspicion would have been enough to decide I'm not worth the risk."

True enough. Suspicion would be. And yet... Reeve tilts his head and considers Tseng.

"I think... sometimes there is a difference between who we are and what we do."

That has him still for a moment, fingers curling into a fist out of sight before he lets his eyes close.

"Drink with me tonight." It's quiet. "Even if you never do it again, let me be the judge of that side of you."

"I drink scotch," Reeve answers as he picks up his mug, his folder, and stands. "Middle shelf minimum. But I prefer it to be of quality. No ice."

"I don't drink cheap liquor." Beer, yes sometimes, but actual alcohol he keeps around tends to be on the expensive side, partly because of who tends to prefer it when they visit his office. Better to be prepared, after all.

"I'll see you at midnight, then."

Reeve offers a brief nod and moves to the door. But he pauses and looks back at Tseng, putting his things down on a shelf to straighten himself out. And once that's done he smiles.

"I think I'm going to enjoy this."

"I hope you do." Because it's not often he's willing to put himself out there like he has with Reeve tonight and if it doesn't work the way he wants? Well, there are ways of handling that, but it's never a pleasant path.

Reeve, though, at least has a level of immunity in that regard.

"And Tseng? Leave the coat off for when I come back."

HE smirks and undoes the lock and slips out of the office. Because that's a damn good line to leave on.

Tseng watches him go, expression as neutral as ever before returning to the files on his desk. And by the time midnight rolls around, he's in the kitchen to the side of his office, putting the finishing touches on the food. It's nothing too fancy, just soup and rice, but it's enough to be a decent meal.

And the drinks are on his desk when he brings the dishes out before Reeve comes back.

For once Reeve is actually attentive of a timer he set for himself. Sure, he'd been crashing at his desk for an hour or so before returning, and hadn't bothered to freshen up much, but he does return. And once he does he gives the door the briefest knock before slipping in and closing it behind him.

"I was promised food and drink?"

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