TSN RPS - "Can't Hug Every Cat" - Andrew/Jesse [3/3]
Title: Can't Hug Every Cat (TSN BIG BANG 2012)
Fandom: The Social Network RPS
Pairing: Andrew Garfield/Jesse Eisenberg
Word Count: 12,000 words
Rating: M
Warnings: My love of Justin Timberlake is a serious hazard.
Part One
Part Two
“Okay, this has to stop.” Justin said, two days later. He'd trudged in at eight am every day since Jesse's arrival, in a staggering show of guilt.
Andrew barely looked up. There was some kid who had made it their mission to combat Andrew's wiki edits. He had to be in some crazy foreign timezone, because, seriously, did this kid ever sleep?
“You have to stop.” Justin repeated, waving his hand in front of Andrew's face. “We haven't recorded shit all in a week, and now you're crushing our pageviews like nobody's business.”
“You promised.” Andrew said, clicking the undo on wiki with a fierce sense of finality. He waited a couple of seconds and refreshed. That little asshole had finally given up. Hopefully there was something more interesting in most high schoolers lives than trolling Wikipedia articles about unfortunate cat loving gentlemen.
It seemed doubtful.
“Yeah, yeah, sure I promised, but you promised that we'd actually do some work.” Justin pointed out. “Clicking undo on wiki and staring at the cat kid with mooneyes does not constitute work.”
Jesse handed Andrew a mug of tea.
Justin leapt a foot into the air in surprise, “Shit, sorry, kid, but you are sneaky as hell.”
“I resent that," Jesse said, sipping his own tea.
“Where's my tea?” Justin complained, looking around.
Jesse shrugged.
“Fine, well, I've got some office locations to scout, and some unhappy investors to soothe, so I'm out.” Justin left, with a slam of the door.
“I'm seriously not going to get that deposit back,” Andrew muttered, tabbing across to some discussion forums.
“Emma emailed me," Jesse said.
Andrew put down his mug.
“She said that you instant messaged her, and asked her to help you take all the stuff down about me,” he gestured abstractly at Andrew's laptop.
“We're trying." Andrew admitted. “We can't actually delete your wiki page, but it says only nice things at the moment.”
“Once,” Jesse said, carefully. “When I was a kid, there was this rumour going around about Ashley Wadersmith wetting herself at school.”
“Ouch,” Andrew said.
“Yeah. It was the talk of the school. Everyone thought it was hilarious. I told my mom about it, it was so funny.”
“Uh huh.”
“She said 'don't you think talking about that hurts Ashley's feelings?' I said, 'but it's true, mom!' She said, 'Especially because it's true, Jesse.'”
“What did you say?” Andrew asked.
“I said, 'I guess so, but she'll get over it next time everyone laughs at Randall Ackberg for eating glue till he pukes.'”
“Wow,” Andrew said. “You went to school with some hard core kids. So, was there a moral? I'm not great at English Lit.”
Jesse rolled his eyes. “The moral is that I was right, she got over it. Which is exactly what I need to do.”
Andrew grinned. “You're a smart one, Jesse Eisenberg.”
“And you're a nice guy, Andrew Garfield.” Jesse said, leaning over Andrew's screen to kiss him messily.
Andrew accidentally exited all his Firefox tabs at once as he gasped for air. “Was that - a one time only thing - or -” he said, dazed.
Jesse gave him a second chance.
“Okay, wow, am I forgiven or something?” Andrew said, pulling away to shut the lid of his laptop.
“Almost." Jesse conceded. “You might have to prove how sorry you are, though.”
“The depths of my sorrow are unbelievable,” Andrew promised. “Would it also help if I told you I've wanted to kiss you since I first saw your original video?”
“Not really,” Jesse grimaced.
“It's true,” Andrew insisted. “If I'd been the one to find the video...I'd probably have joined the site just to ask you out.”
“Don't flatter me,” Jesse said, prodding Andrew in the shoulder.
“I'm really not kidding.” Andrew said.
Jesse paused, and kissed him again, gently, before getting up. “Then prove it,” he said, stepping over Justin 2, and into Andrew's bedroom.
Andrew almost fell over the cat in his haste to follow Jesse.
As soon as he managed to shut the cats out, he was crawling onto the bed after Jesse, pushing his leg up and cheekily kissing his shin through the thick denim. Jesse gasped as the movement tipped him back.
“What do you think you are doing?” he asked, voice tinged with mock outrage. One of his cheeks was dimpling under the pink flush that coloured his skin from the top of his forehead down and over his pale chest.
“Nothing,” Andrew said, perfectly innocently. “I do absolutely nothing at all. You know that.”
Jesse snorted lightly. “Explain this situation then. Are you actually trying to twist my leg off?”
“I absolutely promise not to twist your leg off,” Andrew assured him. He pressed a swift kiss to Jesse's kneecap (Jess twitched into it a little, despite the separation of the jeans between their skin), and hitched the captured leg up and around his hip. Jesse's other leg had no choice but to bend to accommodate the curve of his spine and suddenly they were slotted together so close that Andrew had to squeeze his eyes shut. He grasped for Jesse's shoulders and sighed involuntarily as he settled between Jesse's legs.
“Oh-” Jesse said, breathlessly. “So that's what you wanted.”
“I can, uh, stop?” Andrew offered, thumbs rubbing gentle circles into the balls of Jesse's shoulders to distract himself from trying to do the same a little lower with his hips.
“No!” Jesse said, hurriedly. He nuzzled his chin against the back of one of Andrew's hands approvingly. “Erm,” he said, chewing his bottom lip, “quite - quite the opposite. Please.” In case Andrew hadn't quite got the message, he spread his legs a little wider, taking Andrew's sharp hips and the hard bulge of his jeans fronts between his thighs.
Andrew panted, setting his forehead against Jesse's collarbone. “Fuck,” he swore, “oh, fuck, Jess- -”
He ground down and in, automatically falling into a delirious thrusting motion against and along the underside of the seam of Jesse's jeans.
“Um.” Justin said, hanging around the edge of the door. “Um.”
Jesse whimpered in shock and almost threw Andrew off the bed.
“What the fuck, Justin!” Andrew groaned, grabbing for the blanket, so he could at least shield them from Justin's chuckles.
Justin threw his hands up, “Hey, fine. I know when I'm not wanted.” He pawed through Andrew's stuff until he unearthed a rattling box of memory cards. He shook it at them like a set of maracas and snagged Andrew's barely sipped Snapple of the desk before Andrew could gather the strength to pull himself away from Jesse's heated skin.
“All done! As you were, lovers,” Justin said, saluting them with his purloined beverage.
Andrew had only just dropped his face into Jesse's chest and huffed out a breath when the door opened yet again.
“What?” he said tersely.
“Not you,” Justin said breezily. “I just thought that I might point out to Mr. Eisenberg, where ever he is under there - seriously, Garfield, how many miles of leg have you got? - that seeing as he's hitting that-” Justin paused for a moment, clearly reparsing his sentence, “or getting hit by that? That sounds terrible.”
Jesse made a choking sound. Andrew kindly placed a cushion on his face, which seemed to be appreciated. Justin's bouts with the spoken word frequently made him want to smother himself, too.
“-Well, you know what I mean. Obviously you're a stud, man! You didn't even need that dating site to get yourself a stallion!”
Jesse's cushion shuddered, and he curled in on himself a little. Andrew wrenched his neck around to glare at Justin, who was grinning, hands out in front of his face in anticipation of projectile-based wrath.
“Why don't you go and rent us that office,” Andrew said, instead.
“But you -”
“Go. Now.” Andrew gritted out. “This is my apartment, not your local bar, Timberlake.”
Justin's eyebrows went up, and he left without a word, grinning as he shut the door behind him without a sound.
“I am so sorry, Jess.”
“Ishf nyan,” said Andrew's pillow.
Andrew lifted it. “What was that about nyan cat?”
Jesse rolled his eyes and huffed, reaching up to brush his hair out of his pink face. “I said it's fine. I'm almost used to the chronic embarrassment of being in Justin's orbit.”
Andrew nodded sympathetically, eyeing the door. “Believe me, I'm glad I've finally gotten someone to suffer him with me. Clearly trapping you in my apartment was the way to go.”
Jesse didn't say anything to that.
Andrew flushed, realising the connotations of his words. “Um,” he said, flustered. He fixed Jesse with a beseeching gaze. “Not that getting you to - with me - I didn't plan it?”
Jesse stared up at him, mouth twisted for a while.
Andrew tensed and hovered over him, trying to fight the urge to smile charmingly or babble desperately in anyway that could effect Jesse's estimations.
Jesse slowly wrapped his fingers around one of Andrew's wrists. “I don't think you would ever do that,” he said slowly. “I don't think you have a conniving bone in your entire body.”
Andrew relaxed.
“But Justin does,” Jesse finished.
“Uh huh?” Andrew agreed uncertainly, feeling the beginning of a pit in his stomach.
Jesse shrugged. “So, I get it. You have to be around to temper him.”
Andrew slowly became aware that Jesse was gently stroking his wrist with his fingers as he spoke.
“I don't really understand what you're saying,” Andrew confessed. “Also, you touching me is really bad for my thinking processes, so if you say something nuanced but important and I forget it later, you have had fair warning.”
Jesse smiled, and pushed his hand down Andrew's boxers.
He stroked him slowly but perfunctorily, talking as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
“Holy fuck,” Andrew yelped, grabbing at the blankets beneath them for balance.
“The gist of it is that I hate Justin in a neutral kind of way, and whilst I accept that you two should continue to work together, you need to move somewhere he doesn't have a spare key.”
“Oh my god,” Andrew replied, pressing his forehead into Jesse's collarbone. “Oh my god. Yes, yes, everything you said.”
Jesse worked him faster, letting him whine his release and collapse gently onto him before he said anything more.
“Also, the reporters are gone, so I'm going home tomorrow.”
“What, no...” Andrew moaned.
“You can come to my place instead.”
“Oh. That's okay, then.”
Justin leaned back in his monstrous ergonomic chair and threw his feet up on the desk with a thud. He grinned at Andrew as he did it. Seeing as it wasn't actually Andrew's long suffering kitchen table taking the abuse he let it happen.
“Yes?”
“Oh, nothing.” Justin said, so reclined at this point that he was almost upside down.
“Then why are you smirking?” Andrew said, testily. He studied his own desk for a moment.
At least a meter out of Justin's reach: check. Stocked with non-obnoxious stationery: check. Headphones already plugged into the desktop so he could start blocking out the Timberlake surround sound that already permeated his life far too much: check.
He sat down in his own terrifyingly ergonomic chair. It seemed to be a little less complicated than Justin's contraption, which was a relief. It tipped back smoothly when he settled back. Okay, he had to admit that Justin was pretty good at picking out furniture.
He grudgingly told him as much, filching one of the nice antique stylized pens from a wire cage of stationery on his desk. Jesse would hate these chairs, but he'd probably at least accept a pen that looked positively Victorian.
“I know that face,” Justin leered, sitting up in his chair for the express reason of scooting over to lean on Andrew's desk. “How many times is it now, huh?”
“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Andrew put the pen in the front pocket of his sidebag.
Justin rolled his eyes, and kicked off of Andrew's desk, scooting a good couple of meters before the plush carpet brought him to a stop. “How many times have you managed to stick it in our little cat boy?”
“I think I'm going to be sick.” Andrew said. “Thank you for that image of your expectations of our sex life.”
“Because you're fighting the urge to jizz in your pants?” Justin countered, smirking. “You don't fool me, I know you get off on that crying fetish shit. When that kid turned up, your fate was sealed, man.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Jesse cries like, every day when he hears the entertainment intro on the news, Garfield. You pretty much helped me scar him for life.”
Andrew kindly disregarded most of the garbage that had just poured out of Justin's mouth, “He doesn't cry every day. You've seen him cry twice. This is a very strange time in his life,” he said, delicately.
“Yeah, strange is the word.” Justin agreed with a snort.
“Strange because of you,” Andrew pointed out.
“Strange because you touched yourself the whole time you were ruining his life.”
“Strange because shut the fuck up.” Andrew countered.
Justin hmmed good-naturedly. “I suppose he's figured it out though, right?”
“Mmhm.” Andrew said noncommittally.
“Not hard to figure out that a guy who gives you bouquets of kitty litter is into you, I guess.”
“I thought so.”
“And that's why there's a box of kittens and the pet-friendly rental listings for the village under your desk.”
“It might be,” Andrew allowed.
“As long as you're not looking for a new job,” Justin said. “Do you know how difficult it is to find help that won't sleep with the talent - oh, wait."
Andrew narrowed his eyes.
Justin cackled, kicking back. “I can't believe I finally corrupted you. I cannot wait to tell your mom about this.”
Fandom: The Social Network RPS
Pairing: Andrew Garfield/Jesse Eisenberg
Word Count: 12,000 words
Rating: M
Warnings: My love of Justin Timberlake is a serious hazard.
Part One
Part Two
“Okay, this has to stop.” Justin said, two days later. He'd trudged in at eight am every day since Jesse's arrival, in a staggering show of guilt.
Andrew barely looked up. There was some kid who had made it their mission to combat Andrew's wiki edits. He had to be in some crazy foreign timezone, because, seriously, did this kid ever sleep?
“You have to stop.” Justin repeated, waving his hand in front of Andrew's face. “We haven't recorded shit all in a week, and now you're crushing our pageviews like nobody's business.”
“You promised.” Andrew said, clicking the undo on wiki with a fierce sense of finality. He waited a couple of seconds and refreshed. That little asshole had finally given up. Hopefully there was something more interesting in most high schoolers lives than trolling Wikipedia articles about unfortunate cat loving gentlemen.
It seemed doubtful.
“Yeah, yeah, sure I promised, but you promised that we'd actually do some work.” Justin pointed out. “Clicking undo on wiki and staring at the cat kid with mooneyes does not constitute work.”
Jesse handed Andrew a mug of tea.
Justin leapt a foot into the air in surprise, “Shit, sorry, kid, but you are sneaky as hell.”
“I resent that," Jesse said, sipping his own tea.
“Where's my tea?” Justin complained, looking around.
Jesse shrugged.
“Fine, well, I've got some office locations to scout, and some unhappy investors to soothe, so I'm out.” Justin left, with a slam of the door.
“I'm seriously not going to get that deposit back,” Andrew muttered, tabbing across to some discussion forums.
“Emma emailed me," Jesse said.
Andrew put down his mug.
“She said that you instant messaged her, and asked her to help you take all the stuff down about me,” he gestured abstractly at Andrew's laptop.
“We're trying." Andrew admitted. “We can't actually delete your wiki page, but it says only nice things at the moment.”
“Once,” Jesse said, carefully. “When I was a kid, there was this rumour going around about Ashley Wadersmith wetting herself at school.”
“Ouch,” Andrew said.
“Yeah. It was the talk of the school. Everyone thought it was hilarious. I told my mom about it, it was so funny.”
“Uh huh.”
“She said 'don't you think talking about that hurts Ashley's feelings?' I said, 'but it's true, mom!' She said, 'Especially because it's true, Jesse.'”
“What did you say?” Andrew asked.
“I said, 'I guess so, but she'll get over it next time everyone laughs at Randall Ackberg for eating glue till he pukes.'”
“Wow,” Andrew said. “You went to school with some hard core kids. So, was there a moral? I'm not great at English Lit.”
Jesse rolled his eyes. “The moral is that I was right, she got over it. Which is exactly what I need to do.”
Andrew grinned. “You're a smart one, Jesse Eisenberg.”
“And you're a nice guy, Andrew Garfield.” Jesse said, leaning over Andrew's screen to kiss him messily.
Andrew accidentally exited all his Firefox tabs at once as he gasped for air. “Was that - a one time only thing - or -” he said, dazed.
Jesse gave him a second chance.
“Okay, wow, am I forgiven or something?” Andrew said, pulling away to shut the lid of his laptop.
“Almost." Jesse conceded. “You might have to prove how sorry you are, though.”
“The depths of my sorrow are unbelievable,” Andrew promised. “Would it also help if I told you I've wanted to kiss you since I first saw your original video?”
“Not really,” Jesse grimaced.
“It's true,” Andrew insisted. “If I'd been the one to find the video...I'd probably have joined the site just to ask you out.”
“Don't flatter me,” Jesse said, prodding Andrew in the shoulder.
“I'm really not kidding.” Andrew said.
Jesse paused, and kissed him again, gently, before getting up. “Then prove it,” he said, stepping over Justin 2, and into Andrew's bedroom.
Andrew almost fell over the cat in his haste to follow Jesse.
As soon as he managed to shut the cats out, he was crawling onto the bed after Jesse, pushing his leg up and cheekily kissing his shin through the thick denim. Jesse gasped as the movement tipped him back.
“What do you think you are doing?” he asked, voice tinged with mock outrage. One of his cheeks was dimpling under the pink flush that coloured his skin from the top of his forehead down and over his pale chest.
“Nothing,” Andrew said, perfectly innocently. “I do absolutely nothing at all. You know that.”
Jesse snorted lightly. “Explain this situation then. Are you actually trying to twist my leg off?”
“I absolutely promise not to twist your leg off,” Andrew assured him. He pressed a swift kiss to Jesse's kneecap (Jess twitched into it a little, despite the separation of the jeans between their skin), and hitched the captured leg up and around his hip. Jesse's other leg had no choice but to bend to accommodate the curve of his spine and suddenly they were slotted together so close that Andrew had to squeeze his eyes shut. He grasped for Jesse's shoulders and sighed involuntarily as he settled between Jesse's legs.
“Oh-” Jesse said, breathlessly. “So that's what you wanted.”
“I can, uh, stop?” Andrew offered, thumbs rubbing gentle circles into the balls of Jesse's shoulders to distract himself from trying to do the same a little lower with his hips.
“No!” Jesse said, hurriedly. He nuzzled his chin against the back of one of Andrew's hands approvingly. “Erm,” he said, chewing his bottom lip, “quite - quite the opposite. Please.” In case Andrew hadn't quite got the message, he spread his legs a little wider, taking Andrew's sharp hips and the hard bulge of his jeans fronts between his thighs.
Andrew panted, setting his forehead against Jesse's collarbone. “Fuck,” he swore, “oh, fuck, Jess- -”
He ground down and in, automatically falling into a delirious thrusting motion against and along the underside of the seam of Jesse's jeans.
“Um.” Justin said, hanging around the edge of the door. “Um.”
Jesse whimpered in shock and almost threw Andrew off the bed.
“What the fuck, Justin!” Andrew groaned, grabbing for the blanket, so he could at least shield them from Justin's chuckles.
Justin threw his hands up, “Hey, fine. I know when I'm not wanted.” He pawed through Andrew's stuff until he unearthed a rattling box of memory cards. He shook it at them like a set of maracas and snagged Andrew's barely sipped Snapple of the desk before Andrew could gather the strength to pull himself away from Jesse's heated skin.
“All done! As you were, lovers,” Justin said, saluting them with his purloined beverage.
Andrew had only just dropped his face into Jesse's chest and huffed out a breath when the door opened yet again.
“What?” he said tersely.
“Not you,” Justin said breezily. “I just thought that I might point out to Mr. Eisenberg, where ever he is under there - seriously, Garfield, how many miles of leg have you got? - that seeing as he's hitting that-” Justin paused for a moment, clearly reparsing his sentence, “or getting hit by that? That sounds terrible.”
Jesse made a choking sound. Andrew kindly placed a cushion on his face, which seemed to be appreciated. Justin's bouts with the spoken word frequently made him want to smother himself, too.
“-Well, you know what I mean. Obviously you're a stud, man! You didn't even need that dating site to get yourself a stallion!”
Jesse's cushion shuddered, and he curled in on himself a little. Andrew wrenched his neck around to glare at Justin, who was grinning, hands out in front of his face in anticipation of projectile-based wrath.
“Why don't you go and rent us that office,” Andrew said, instead.
“But you -”
“Go. Now.” Andrew gritted out. “This is my apartment, not your local bar, Timberlake.”
Justin's eyebrows went up, and he left without a word, grinning as he shut the door behind him without a sound.
“I am so sorry, Jess.”
“Ishf nyan,” said Andrew's pillow.
Andrew lifted it. “What was that about nyan cat?”
Jesse rolled his eyes and huffed, reaching up to brush his hair out of his pink face. “I said it's fine. I'm almost used to the chronic embarrassment of being in Justin's orbit.”
Andrew nodded sympathetically, eyeing the door. “Believe me, I'm glad I've finally gotten someone to suffer him with me. Clearly trapping you in my apartment was the way to go.”
Jesse didn't say anything to that.
Andrew flushed, realising the connotations of his words. “Um,” he said, flustered. He fixed Jesse with a beseeching gaze. “Not that getting you to - with me - I didn't plan it?”
Jesse stared up at him, mouth twisted for a while.
Andrew tensed and hovered over him, trying to fight the urge to smile charmingly or babble desperately in anyway that could effect Jesse's estimations.
Jesse slowly wrapped his fingers around one of Andrew's wrists. “I don't think you would ever do that,” he said slowly. “I don't think you have a conniving bone in your entire body.”
Andrew relaxed.
“But Justin does,” Jesse finished.
“Uh huh?” Andrew agreed uncertainly, feeling the beginning of a pit in his stomach.
Jesse shrugged. “So, I get it. You have to be around to temper him.”
Andrew slowly became aware that Jesse was gently stroking his wrist with his fingers as he spoke.
“I don't really understand what you're saying,” Andrew confessed. “Also, you touching me is really bad for my thinking processes, so if you say something nuanced but important and I forget it later, you have had fair warning.”
Jesse smiled, and pushed his hand down Andrew's boxers.
He stroked him slowly but perfunctorily, talking as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
“Holy fuck,” Andrew yelped, grabbing at the blankets beneath them for balance.
“The gist of it is that I hate Justin in a neutral kind of way, and whilst I accept that you two should continue to work together, you need to move somewhere he doesn't have a spare key.”
“Oh my god,” Andrew replied, pressing his forehead into Jesse's collarbone. “Oh my god. Yes, yes, everything you said.”
Jesse worked him faster, letting him whine his release and collapse gently onto him before he said anything more.
“Also, the reporters are gone, so I'm going home tomorrow.”
“What, no...” Andrew moaned.
“You can come to my place instead.”
“Oh. That's okay, then.”
Justin leaned back in his monstrous ergonomic chair and threw his feet up on the desk with a thud. He grinned at Andrew as he did it. Seeing as it wasn't actually Andrew's long suffering kitchen table taking the abuse he let it happen.
“Yes?”
“Oh, nothing.” Justin said, so reclined at this point that he was almost upside down.
“Then why are you smirking?” Andrew said, testily. He studied his own desk for a moment.
At least a meter out of Justin's reach: check. Stocked with non-obnoxious stationery: check. Headphones already plugged into the desktop so he could start blocking out the Timberlake surround sound that already permeated his life far too much: check.
He sat down in his own terrifyingly ergonomic chair. It seemed to be a little less complicated than Justin's contraption, which was a relief. It tipped back smoothly when he settled back. Okay, he had to admit that Justin was pretty good at picking out furniture.
He grudgingly told him as much, filching one of the nice antique stylized pens from a wire cage of stationery on his desk. Jesse would hate these chairs, but he'd probably at least accept a pen that looked positively Victorian.
“I know that face,” Justin leered, sitting up in his chair for the express reason of scooting over to lean on Andrew's desk. “How many times is it now, huh?”
“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Andrew put the pen in the front pocket of his sidebag.
Justin rolled his eyes, and kicked off of Andrew's desk, scooting a good couple of meters before the plush carpet brought him to a stop. “How many times have you managed to stick it in our little cat boy?”
“I think I'm going to be sick.” Andrew said. “Thank you for that image of your expectations of our sex life.”
“Because you're fighting the urge to jizz in your pants?” Justin countered, smirking. “You don't fool me, I know you get off on that crying fetish shit. When that kid turned up, your fate was sealed, man.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Jesse cries like, every day when he hears the entertainment intro on the news, Garfield. You pretty much helped me scar him for life.”
Andrew kindly disregarded most of the garbage that had just poured out of Justin's mouth, “He doesn't cry every day. You've seen him cry twice. This is a very strange time in his life,” he said, delicately.
“Yeah, strange is the word.” Justin agreed with a snort.
“Strange because of you,” Andrew pointed out.
“Strange because you touched yourself the whole time you were ruining his life.”
“Strange because shut the fuck up.” Andrew countered.
Justin hmmed good-naturedly. “I suppose he's figured it out though, right?”
“Mmhm.” Andrew said noncommittally.
“Not hard to figure out that a guy who gives you bouquets of kitty litter is into you, I guess.”
“I thought so.”
“And that's why there's a box of kittens and the pet-friendly rental listings for the village under your desk.”
“It might be,” Andrew allowed.
“As long as you're not looking for a new job,” Justin said. “Do you know how difficult it is to find help that won't sleep with the talent - oh, wait."
Andrew narrowed his eyes.
Justin cackled, kicking back. “I can't believe I finally corrupted you. I cannot wait to tell your mom about this.”