Twenty-five days.

Twenty-five goddamn days had passed since the Captain finally gave into Dorian’s questioning and told him when he could expect his new SR.

“Just wait a week, Lieutenant,” the Captain had said. “They’ll be here in a week.”

What a fat load of shit that had been. Almost enough to make Dorian Hart lose his fuckin’ mind.

From somewhere above his head, he heard the constant ticking of the clock. Growling, Dorian slammed a hand down upon his desk, papers scattering into the air.

Maybe it was his lucky day, because it was at that moment that a knock sounded upon the door of his quarters.

Quiet, near unheard even in the quiet of his room.

“Fuck…fuck.” He grunted. “Yeah, I’m fuckin’ coming, Christ.”

There was another knock, more insistent this time, and Dorian swung the door open.

Oh fucking hell. Oh, fuck, yes.

There was a brief moment where Dorian did not move a damn muscle as he looked down on Anon’s cute little face.

“Christ, little thing. Look at your fuckin’ body.” He murmured. “Get inside.”