Work Text:
“I don’t want it.” You roll the brain module to the edge of your desk with a stylus, frowning at the viscous trail left in its path.
Helex pouts down at you like a disappointed child, crossing his arms.
“Why not? I thou-“
“Hex,” you sigh, “nibbling on a couple fingers is one thing, biting into an organ is another.” ignoring how the smelter seems to perk up at the pet name. “I have no way of telling what’s going on in,” you cringe and wave your stylus in the brain module’s general direction “there.”
“I can ask Nickel to have a look at it.”
You give Helex a strange look, “She won’t.” amused by the absurdity of the suggestion.
“She might.” He challenges, shifting on his pedes and cocking his head.
You can tell he’s not so sure, even as he attempts to imitate your expression, to which you snort. He smiles, then, and if not for the smatterings of grey matter between his teeth, you’d have found it charming. Instead, you shake your head and laugh.
“Fine.”
Helex’s smile drops for a moment before returning wider than before. “Fine?” He echos in elated disbelief.
You nod passively, leaning over to open a drawer in an effort to find something to wipe your stylus off with. “If Nickel examines it, and gives it the all clear, I’ll do it.” confident that Nickel will not, in fact, give Gutcruncher’s brain module the ‘all clear’, let alone entertain the idea of looking at it.
Abruptly, “Mmf-!” you’re looking up at Helex as he shoves his tongue past your lips. A large hand cradling your cheek, and just about the rest of the side of your head. Caught off guard, you’re slow to reciprocate the sloppy kiss. Groaning when his wandering appendage slithers deeper into your mouth in a manner reminiscent of a night you’d shared not long ago.
His engines rumble in response, settling into an idle purr as he pulls away to look into your eyes. The two of you staring into each other for a moment before his attention flicks to your wet, parted lips, then the teeth between them.
You know what he wants, and it has you reaching for him. Alas, he smirks and backs off, plucking the brain module on his way.
“Deal.”
There’s a promise to the word, you know it, but you’re still frustrated with him as he exits your office.
You rest your head in your hands and sigh, grimacing at the purple goo-smear still contaminating your workspace. Conflicted as to whether or not you want his return to be an excited one.