Adam Jensen did not like games. He had often been called "too serious," but he had no desire to change that reputation. Sure, he made a few jokes here and there, but they weren't the kind you really laughed at. His humor was dryer than scorching desert sand.
The cyborg stalked down the hallway, intent on his target. He would end this frustrating little dance that he and Francis had been performing since the day they met. Now that his prior commitments had been taken care of (small things like uncovering world conspiracies), he could put an end to it all.
Jensen entered the room with as much presence as he could muster. He stomped noisily to Pritchard's desk, and when the tech ignored him, he leaned down and got in the man's personal space, face reaching past the computer monitor.
Unable to pretend he didn't see him any longer, Frank Pritchard closed his eyes, sighed, and pushed his keyboard back before asking, "What do you want, Jensen?"
"This has got to stop, Francis," the head of security demanded.
Frank rolled his eyes. "All you have to do is stop coming into my office and bugging me. I don't know why you're telling me that it needs to stop."
Adam narrowed his eyes. "You know what I'm talking about. You've been acting like you hated me since the first time we even spoke. I'm a detective, so I've got good intuition, so I kind of knew, but the C.A.S.I.E. augs confirm it. You don't hate me. It's time to just admit it and stop this little game."
Pritchard stood up, suddenly. "It's inappropriate for you to be using augmentations for this purpose."
The cyborg ignored the protest, and continued on. "You don't hate me. Far from it."
"That's enough, Jensen. I'm not sure what security to call because you are security, but this is harassment," the computer tech threatened as Adam walked around the desk towards him.
"I don't like to be toyed with. I've been through enough shit these past six months. I'm sick of being lied to."
Pritchard's heartrate increased tenfold as the ex-SWAT stopped less than an inch away. "S-stop it, Jensen," he squeaked out halfheartedly.
Adam smirked. "Stop what, exactly? Am I affecting you in some way?"
"Adam," Frank said softly, "okay. You win. I don't hate you and I won't act like I do anymore."
The cyborg leaned his face a little closer to the smaller man's. "And how do you feel about me, Francis?" At Pritchard's stubborn silence, he slowly closed the gap between them, allowing for the tech to deny him if he wanted. Frank stared defiantly at the ground, arms crossed, until he felt warm lips on his own. His eyes widened at the contact, in disbelief that this was actually happening. He grabbed Adam's head when the ex-cop began to pull back, and returned the kiss with rough passion. Now that Jensen had gone and opened the floodgates, he sure as hell wasn't going to hold back.
Adam lifted Frank up, setting him on his desk as the kiss deepened. Their tongues met, each tasting, exploring the other. Their lips massaged in slow circles, unwilling to part. The security chief brushed stacks of papers and small electronics parts to the floor, leaning Pritchard (who didn't care enough to protest the mistreatment of his work equipment) back and climbing on top of him.
It wasn't until Pritchard felt the metal hands undoing the buttons on his shirt that he protested.
"Jensen, not here, for God's sake. I'm not about to be fucked in front of whomever decides to walk by and look."
The brown-haired man laughed lightly. "I would never have dreamed of our first time being at work. Don't worry, Francis."
Frank sat up and looked at Jensen quizzically. "Why do you call me Francis?"
Adam brushed the tech's bangs aside affectionately. "Because it was obvious early on that you had the hots for me, and it was frustrating as hell the way you pretended not to."
"What if I really just didn't like you, and I don't even like you right now?" he snarked back, defensive.
Adam Jensen narrowed his eyes. "I don't like games," he reminded the other man, just before pulling him closer by his shoulders and kissing him.