Alec&Deryk

Damn, keeping his distance from the Brit was harder than he'd thought it'd be, he'd be heading out to the elevator, or see him down the hall at work, just talking to someone, carrying papers, maybe practicing some lines through, and a flood of mine filled his thoughts and it was just about all he could do to keep from running whoever he was talking to through with a stapler.

That would be awful for business.

One of these days was especially bad, he had been taking a bit of paperwork down to advertising; his old assistant had quit, apparently he was difficult to work with, and they had yet to hire a new one, so he was running his own errands for now, which was infuriating enough on it's own, and then, swinging open the door, there he is, sitting at a chair working on a script with some employee he couldn't care less about, talking quietly, the unnamed worker with the headset on looked positively enamored.

It was sickening, and there was a god; because there was a stapler within reach, his eyes had lit up with fury, bearing down on the man seated beside Deryk. "I'd apologize for interrupting your clearly impossibly important eye-fucking session, but seeing as I'm supporting both of your miserable salaries, I really don't have to."

As headset guy scrambled up to collect the paperwork, mumbling apologies and rushing off to the back room, leaving him and Deryk alone in the room. He turned to eye the brunette, who seemed to suddenly find the desk very interesting, waiting for so much as a twitch, something to tell him what he was thinking.

"Don't get snappy Dottington, I can look where I want, say what I want, and do as I please, but, you should already know that." He leaned forward, both hands on the desk, leaning over the brit, eyes harsh.

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God I can't, no one can take that last name seriously

With a snarl, he tore after him, flinging the door open, slamming it closed behind him and stalking towards the Brit, "Maybe it's your turn to check your manners." His eyes were absolutely on fire, because the brunette was his and apparently, that was something he had to remind him of.

"Dammit!" He yelled, kicking the wall beside the elevator door, hard. Damn right he was seeing him at the party, he'd get more than enough chance to remind the Brit just who he belonged to then.

Oh yes.
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Alec what no

Alec hung back, sipping red wine (He wasn't a fan of white, there wasn't as much flavor) and looking busy, trying not to look like he was waiting for a certain Brittish head to pass through the doorway. He was loitering against the banister at the top of the stairs, it was near enough to the door to give him a good view, deserted enough that no one would approach him, and executive enough that it didn't look like he was talking to autonomous employees.