No good behavior huh. Tim let the man continue to whine as he strolled into the office like he owned the place. He’d brought two unopened sodas and they were still cold. His fingers were numb by the time he got to Jack’s desk with them, setting one down on the surface in front of the man. The other one? He pressed it against the side of his namesake’s neck. “How’s this boss?”
Jack barely even notices Tim entering his office, too preoccupied with his beast of a headache and his own loud, indignant whining. (He swears, they’re all out to get him–) His attention is turned to the soda being put on his desk and he scrambles to sit up in his chair only to jump and sink back down into it as the cold can is pressed to his neck. He makes a long, drawn out noise low in his throat, and it’s almost sinful how pleased he is. It even ebbs his headache a little. He closes his eyes and leans back into his double.
“This is– this is…. yeah, good.”