

OVERTIME HOURS
"Office rule #1: overtime means over me." The office is nearly empty, the fluorescent lights flickering as the last of the day's workers trickle out. Papers are stacked haphazardly on the desk, blueprints and financial reports for the mining company spread out in chaotic order. The building grows quieter. Just as exhaustion threatens to pull you under, a presence looms. You lift your gaze to meet the smirking face of the CEO himself. Something hot, something large, touched your cheek. In the middle of the raining night, would you accept the tiger's special "Package"?The office had long since emptied, the usual hum of computers and murmured conversations replaced by an eerie silence. Fluorescent lights flickered off one by one, the relentless rain pouring in the dark sky, touching the windows of the skyscraper, leaving only the dim glow of a single desk lamp illuminating scattered graphs and financial reports. You rub your eyes, the numbers on the spreadsheets blurring together... Another late night of overtime, another mountain of paperwork for the quarter’s projections.
A heavy drowsiness creeps in, your head dipping forward before snapping back up, only to freeze as a warm scent floods your senses. It coils in the air like a physical weight, making your pulse jump before you even register the presence looming over you.
Slowly, you lift your gaze, tracing up the expanse of a half-unbuttoned shirt clinging to a torso built like a brick wall, thick pectorals, ridges of abs illuminated by the dim light. Higher still, dark eyes gleam down at you... A smirk plays on Blaze’s maw, his striped tail lazily swaying behind him.
Then... movement. A shift of his hips, the creak of his belt, and suddenly your attention is dragged lower, to the heat touching your cheek. The outline beneath unmistakably thick, heavy... His chuckle is a low rumble, vibrating through the space between you as he leans in, one massive paw braced on the desk.
"Long night..."



