"Would you stop that?" Emmett said testily. "I need to finish this, and you're not helping."
"You've been working on this all day," Brendan said, slipping his arms around Emmett from behind and slipping his hands straight down his pants.
Emmett made a choking sound, but tried valiantly to keep typing. "My deadline is tomorrow if I want this published," he said.
"You shouldn't have waited to the last minute," Brendan told him reproachfully. "This is what you get."
"Oh, right, and I'm sure you never procrastinate," Emmett snapped.
"Never," Brendan agreed, trailing kisses up the side of Emmett's neck.
"Oh, don't tell me you're one of those people," Emmett snapped.
Brendan grinned against Emmett's ear. "And just what kind of people are you referring to?"
"The goody-two-shoes, always five minutes early, things done eight months in advance type of person," Emmett said. He grabbed Brendan's wrists and pulled his hands from out of his pants.
"Oh," Brendan said. "Yes, I'm one of those people."
"Oh my god!" Emmett shouted. "I'd never have agreed to go out with you if I'd known you were one of those people. I hate those kinds of people."
"You asked me out," Brendan said, sounding amused. "I said no, and you decided to show up at my office with a picnic anyway."
Emmett snorted. "You're a goody-two-shoes and play hard to get, I don't know why I put up with you."
"Because you're a procrastinator," Brendan said sweetly. "And you like me to distract you."
Brendan's hands slipped back down and Emmett fell back against him, the keyboard forgotten. "Alright, one little quickie," Emmett said, turning around so he could tackle Brendan to the floor. "Then it's back to work."
"You'll be finishing it thirty minutes before the deadline, and you know it," Brendan said with a laugh.
"Maybe," Emmett admitted, "but for once I have a good excuse."