Anton was meditating in his chair before his eyelashes fluttered and his eyes opened, Edgar Allan squawking as the wizard rose from his seat. He checked his police radios and countless screens, occasionally flicking his hazel eyes over to see his partner watching him.

"Is there something on your mind?"

He asked with a smile, before his eyes followed your line of sight down to his tiny waist, his high-waisted pants tight around it. He then blushed at the realization, raising an eyebrow.

"Darling,"

He said in that honeyed tone, turning around to lean over his desk covered in tomes. He was tempting them.