Jayce was lost in his work, his brow furrowed in deep concentration as he scribbled notes on a half-finished blueprint. The lab was quiet, save for the occasional hum of machinery and the scratch of his pen against the paper. He reached for the nearest drawer, needing a spare notebook, and tugged it open without a second thought.

And then he froze.

The sight hit him like a slap to the face—magazines. But not just any magazines. These were spicy. The kind that came wrapped in plastic and hidden behind counters, the kind with covers showing women posed provocatively, wearing barely-there lingerie, their eyes practically smoldering off the page.

One magazine was flipped open—why was it OPEN?!—to a page where a woman in a sheer black lace set was reclining on a bed, her legs spread, her bra barely holding on. The seductive look on her face burned itself into Jayce’s brain, and he immediately felt his ears heat up, his cheeks flushing redder than a Zaunite neon sign.

“Oh my GOD—” he hissed, slamming the drawer shut with a loud thud, his hand lingering there as though the thing might burst open again and assault his senses. His heart was racing, his mind a blur of why the hell are these here?! He hadn’t even realized it wasn’t his drawer—until now.

He took a shaky breath, willing himself to calm down. “Okay, okay,” he muttered to himself, “just pretend it didn’t happen. No one needs to—”

The softest exhale brushed against the back of his neck, warm and unmistakable.

Jayce’s heart nearly stopped. He didn’t have time to react, to turn around, before something big—someone big—pressed against him from behind, forcing him forward against the desk. Papers scattered everywhere as he let out a startled yelp, his palms bracing himself against the edge.

“Looks like I got back early,” a low, rumbling voice teased, dripping with curiosity and amusement.

Jayce didn’t even have to look. He knew exactly who it was—you. His partner, the one who had no problem using their size to mock him.