tillman: i'm not a violent dog. i don't know why i bite. (Default)
š™³š™“š™æšš„ššƒššˆ š™¶š™°ššƒš™¾šš ššƒš™øš™»š™»š™¼š™°š™½. ([personal profile] tillman) wrote2024-10-20 11:32 am
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š™¾š™æš™“š™½.








š™¾š™æš™“š™½ šŸøšŸŗ/šŸ½.
satanicpanics: (pic#15737640)

[personal profile] satanicpanics 2025-11-02 04:44 am (UTC)(link)
[ Eddie isn’t expecting it, lulled into a false sense of apathy by the slow, steady touch that doesn’t seem to be heading anywhere in particular, barely harder than a breath against his thigh. Until he’s proven wrong. ]

Jesus fucking Christ—

[ He gasps and jolts, his hips arching away from the couch as if a current of electricity’s been shot through him. He hisses and releases his grip on the fabric of the t-shirt, scrambling to find purchase in something a bit more solid—namely, Gator’s shoulders, nails digging right through the t-shirt and into flesh. He doesn’t mean it to hurt, but he doesn’t particularly care if it does. He’s already well on his way to coming totally undone, and they’ve only just begun.

He doesn’t beg, but there’s a sort of desperation there regardless, like he can count on one hand the amount of times he’s been touched like this by another person. For all his teasing, he is woefully inexperienced, and it shows. It’s always been the wrong place, wrong people, no time…Does that make Gator Tillman the right person? Apparently it does, at least tonight.

Besides, what he lacks in experience, he makes up for it with enthusiasm and an almost wildly unpracticed edge, surging forward to meet the kiss with more teeth than most people would find particularly enjoyable.
]

Like you would risk anyone knowing about this.

[ He just barely manages to huff out a laugh before he’s thrown once more, a groan pulled from his throat. That doesn’t mean he’s at a loss for words, though. Shutting up Eddie Munson is a nearly impossible feat, and he proceeds to hiss out a stream of expletives, just about every filthy word in the English language tumbling from his lips as he arches against Gator’s hand, chasing the feeling of pleasure. ]

Once isn’t gonna be enough, though, you know.

[ He reaches up to tangle his fingers into the other man’s hair, giving an experimental tug just to see what happens. He stares, pupils blown so wide that his eyes look almost pitch black. ]

You’ll get off, you’ll get me off, you’ll head home, you’ll spend every goddamn night thinking about me…and then you’ll show back up at that door within a week.

[ He’s so confident in that prediction that he would put money on it. ]

Lather, rinse, repeat until one of us skips town or dies. Isn’t that right?
satanicpanics: (pic#15737492)

[personal profile] satanicpanics 2025-11-03 06:55 am (UTC)(link)
Blind man could see that’s exactly what’s gonna happen. A full week might even be generous.

[Just like a blind man could also see that Eddie isn’t going to turn him away when this inevitably happens again. He’s well aware that he’s always leaned just a little too close to an addictive personality for comfort, and he’s taken care not to involve himself with anything much harder than weed and alcohol, if only for the sake of his uncle, but this? Gator’s lips and teeth and hands and dark eyes? Dangerous. So much more dangerous than any pill or substance, and Eddie already wants more.

He swears again, louder this time as Gator’s teeth find his neck and work at leaving a nice souvenir, one he’ll have to admire in the mirror later. A ragged gasp is ripped from the back of his throat and he inclines his head to offer a wider swath of skin, his grip on Gator’s hair only tightening in an effort to keep him there, to keep him close. Although he says nothing, his meaning is more than clear: Go ahead, devour me whole, see if I care to stop you.

He’s in a frenzy, a live wire ready to spark, but what really manages to dizzy him is when everything slows down a little. It’s not any less pleasurable, but when the kisses become slower, softer, he’s so taken aback that he has no choice but to slow down himself, realizing that he doesn’t have to force this to an end. Why would he do something like that when he isn’t actually ready for it to be over? He swallow each kiss, lingers in them for as long as he possibly can, welcomes the ones that end in a bite. His eyes flutter closed and in that moment, he decides that maybe the watermelon flavored nicotine isn’t so bad. Sort of pleasant, even, when mixed with the sour scent and taste of beer.
]

What? [ He manages to rasp, hearing the question perfectly well, but too dazed and blissed out for any immediate response. A couple blinks and he manages a much more typical response: ] Wouldn’t you like to know?

[ He supposes he would probably like to know. He’s loath to pull away, to lose the teeth and fingers marking his body even for a moment, but this sort of arrangement is often better when both parties are equally involved. With another huff of frustration, he steals one last kiss, bites at Gator’s lip as he pulls away, then slips to his knees on the ancient, faded carpet. ]

Maybe you’re the first. Maybe you’re the second, third, fourth…Would it really make you feel any less special?

[ He stares up at him with those enormous eyes, head tilted with faux innocence as he takes the whole thing achingly slow, walking his fingers slowly up Gator’s thighs toward his belt…where he pauses to smirk, pulls his hands away, and very purposefully pushes all that long hair back behind his ears and over his shoulders, implying that he’s done this at least once before and would very much like to avoid at least some kind of messy repeat this time around. ]

Now, where were we…?

[ He pretends to think very hard for a moment, then…fuck it. He skips right to the chase, reaches up to work his belt’s buckle open, pulls his zipper down and reaches in, only to let out a bark of shocked laughter.]

Jesus Christ. You just may be the first cop in the history of the world who actually isn’t over-compensating. Congratulations. What am I supposed to do with all this?

[ It doesn’t seem to be a question that he really needs answered, because he seems to know just what to do. He wraps his hand around him, stokes him with a flick of his wrist, then drags his tongue up the length, gaze still fixed on the face above him, intense and unblinking. ]

I am gonna skip town. One of these days. Then what will you do?

[ He smirks, almost daring him to respond honestly, holds his gaze for just a beat longer, then takes him in his mouth. One hand works away on what he can’t reach wit his mouth, and the other digs into the other man’s thigh, stubby nails scraping and clawing into his flesh. Unpracticed and a little uncoordinated, but not horrible. ]
satanicpanics: (pic#16334675)

[personal profile] satanicpanics 2025-11-05 06:55 am (UTC)(link)
[ It really should be enough to shut him up for a time, but it isn’t. Eddie allows himself to be guided for a time, genuinely enjoying the warm weight of the hand on the back of his neck and he hums low in the back of his throat around Gator’s cock, encourages his thrusting even if it means hell for his own gag reflect. But when he thinks Gator is close to finishing, he pull off of him, chest heaving and a touch of laughter in his throat. He already looks half a mess, eyes watering and cheeks flushed, wiping saliva from his chin with the back of his hand, but there’s clearly still a good measure of wickedness there as he pulls back, teases, does everything he can to be a brat. ]

You sound like a man obsessed already, sweetheart. A small time dealer really has you this hot and bothered?

[ His accusation comes paired with a smirk and a dark chuckle as he rests his cheek against Gator’s thigh and peers up at him with those wide eyes, looking almost sweet of a moment. He thinks he could try it, though. Take that wad of cash and see how far he can coast before it all runs dry and he has to turn back or figure out something else. There really isn’t much for him to lose at this point, and the thought of of finally getting out is appealing in and of itself, but what really puts it over the edge is the tempting threat of being chased. It’s about seven different shades of fucked up how readily he think he’d welcome it and how deeply he wants to challenge him on it just to give him a nudge in the right direction. Because the cruel, hard look in his eyes and the way he lifts Eddie’s chin to meet his gaze—Eddie believes he’d do it, given enough encouragement.

All Eddie was really aiming for tonight was one less noise complaint on his record and the police off his back for a single evening. He’d wanted Gator Tillman in and out of his home as quickly as possible, but now things have twisted rather dramatically and here he is on his knees, palming himself while he willingly sucks that very same man off. Even worse, Eddie is sure he’ll do just about anything to chase this high again when it’s all over. He can’t phrase why and he’s not even sure he wants to understand what was unlocked in him tonight. All he can do is acknowledge that the two of them have walked hand in hand into the lion’s den and the exit has been sealed. They are both well and truly, completely and utterly fucked.

And the worst part is just how fine he is with that. He feels fully insane.
]

But—

[ He begins, raising his head. He licks his lips and chooses to take pity on him, repositioning to take him in his mouth once more. He wants so badly to hear him hiss and moan again, and he scrapes his short nails down his thigh, leaving white marks as he swirls his tongue over the tip, eye contact still unbroken. ]

I’d really like to see you try.

[ There it is. A challenge, emphasis on the really, clearly containing more than a crumb of truth. Eddie would very much like to see him try. ]
satanicpanics: (pic#15853997)

[personal profile] satanicpanics 2025-11-07 04:37 am (UTC)(link)
[ It’s a shock it took this long to end up with Gator’s hand around his throat, and it might have even be enough to shake Eddie out of this substance and lust-induced daze in an instant if he had actually tightened his grip. But he doesn’t, and although Eddie’s heart gives a little jolt of terror, it calms almost immediately as he somehow comes to the conclusion that he won’t. He does wonder vaguely if he’s an idiot for letting this spiral so massively out of hand. After all, that cruel look in Gator’s eye is enough of a reminder that Eddie still doesn’t trust him, can’t trust him by any means, but there’s still a high that he’s chasing, and he’s not ready to come down yet.

The noise he emits when his hair is given a strong tug is interesting—a soft yelp mixed with a moan, all smothered in an instant beneath that kiss. He all but melts into it and swears quietly when they part.
]

Jesus Christ. [ He rolls his head backward into Gator’s palm, buying a moment to catch his breath by staring up into his cold gaze. ] Putting words in my mouth. Pretty sure I only said I’d like to see you try, not that I didn't think you could.

[ Then Eddie’s gaze drops downward, flicks upward, downward, then up again. He eyes Gator doubtfully, scrunches up his face and tilts his head one way, then the other, and it’s more than clear that he’s trying to figure out how all of that could possibly fit inside of him. But the scales tip rather quickly in favor of his want and desire, and he literally shrugs his concerns off, clambers to his feet, and slips through the door of one incredibly messy bedroom.

The sounds of opening and closing drawers, murmured swears and rusting come from within and moments later, Eddie makes his triumphant return, bottle in hand and stripped down to just torn denim and skin. There’s really nothing particularly impressive or remarkable about what lies beneath his uniform of faded band tees, and he’s well aware of that fact. He’s still very much a skinny burnout who probably can’t afford to miss a meal, more sinew and poorly etched tattoos than muscle, but he isn’t lacking in an ounce of confidence as he approaches Gator once more.

Without missing a beat, he drops the bottle onto the couch, then drops himself down onto Gator’s lap to straddle him. He buries his fingers deep into the gel-slicked hair and crowds in painfully close to kiss him like his very life depends on it. Slow, deep, and open mouthed, pouring every ounce of his longing and hunger into it, teeth and tongue and the taste of weed and beer.

Pulling back slightly, he continues in a murmur:
]

But I can guarantee you it’s not gonna be you who ruins me for anyone else.

[ He very much could, likely will, probably already has considering how much Eddie wants this. But if this is what fate has in store for him, he plans on dragging Gator down with him. Make him just as desperate and needy and addicted as Eddie already is so they can keep one another company in this personal hell they’ve just created.

His voice is low and touched with gravel as he leans in close, breath hot against Gator’s ear, teeth just scraping against the shell of it.
]

It’s gonna be me who ruins anyone else for you, deputy. No one else is gonna do it for you after this.
satanicpanics: (pic#15737640)

[personal profile] satanicpanics 2025-11-10 07:10 am (UTC)(link)
[ It’s certainly not the night Eddie envisioned for himself. Not even close, but something in him totally flipped after that second joint and oddly enough, he’s not even that high. He’s been stoned fully out of his mind before, and this is nothing like that. The weed barely even factors into it, just offers a good method to excuse this all away later if need be. He’s high on something else entirely, borderline euphoric and so hard it hurts, and in desperate need of more. It's true junkie behavior, and just may be a better buzz than he’s gotten from literally anything else in his life.

Maybe he’ll have it in him to laugh about it later, because the shift this night took really is all kinds of hilarious. Or maybe he’ll just crave it until it happens again, which it inevitably will. They’ve well established that, even if neither has has properly admitted it. Eddie’s reaction serves as truth enough, though. The way his breath hitches in his throat and he swears airily, head tipping to the side, his eyelids fluttering shut as his fingers scrape and grip at any skin they can dig into. The way he bites his lip and shifts, greedily trying to chase the wave of pleasure. And, of course, the fact that he does absolutely nothing to stop him or push him away.
]

Shit, I take it back. That is pretty gentleman behavior of you.

[ Because it really is a level of…maybe care isn’t the correct word, but consideration that he didn’t expect from Gator Tillman, even after his opinion of the man has been significantly twisted already. He’s not expecting a particularly large amount of tenderness, but he’s willing to do just about anything to chase this high, and he’s certainly not put off now.

He huffs out a soft laugh against Gator’s hand, seriously considers saying something smart like not really or I don’t know, roll for initiative first just to fuck with him, but he thinks better of it. When you’re naked in another man’s lap and his hand is around your cock, pretense becomes just a little ridiculous, even if it is for the sake of a joke.

So he sheds pretense entirely and makes things quite clear when he lifts his eyes to that dark, dangerous gaze, tilts his head, and responds with a sly smile, knowing full well that he isn't the only one who desperately wants this.
]

Be my guest, loverboy. I’m all yours.
satanicpanics: (pic#16334675)

[personal profile] satanicpanics 2025-11-11 06:39 am (UTC)(link)
[ It’s all Eddie can do to quiver and groan as heat pools between his legs and his mind runs wild with all his wants. Wants the hand on his hip to grip hard enough to bruise, wants to leave marks of his own, wants more and often. It’s kind of ridiculous, but it’s so hot and they’re impossibly close and thoughts beyond lust and desire don’t come easily.

His vision swims as he digs his nails into flesh, mouth falling open in a gasp as they kiss again, and again, and again. It’s not enough. He’s a man starved, and he tries his hardest to chase down one more kiss despite already being so overtaken by pleasure he could die from it.

Then the entire thing is denied, put on a brief pause because Eddie even thought about trying to fuck with him, and since when is Gator Tillman a mind reader? He groans loudly, partially out of arousal and partially out of frustration.
]

That just means you ain’t getting none til I do. Funny how that works, huh?

[ He talks a big talk, mimics Gator’s lingo just for an added layer of impudence. And ordinarily he’d be perfectly happy to pull back entirely, to tease, to keep this dance going until it drives Gator right to the edge of insanity, but that just isn’t in the cards tonight. Call him dramatic, but Eddie isn’t sure he’ll survive if they don’t see this through, not when he’s coming apart at the seams as they speak. ]

I was just thinking—

[ His head lolls backwards, baring the column of his throat as he half chuckles, half huffs angrily. ]

That given our current position? It was a stupid question to ask, deputy.

[ Just as quickly, his chuckle snaps into a soft whine of oh, fuck, his head dropping low and a curtain of hair falling across his face as he rocks back onto Gator’s hand. In this state, he struggles to keep his usual string of jokes and smartass banter going, and he stutters in an attempt to continue. ]

But I am way too close and if you don’t shut up and get to defiling me, this is gonna be over real quick.
satanicpanics: (pic#15737640)

[personal profile] satanicpanics 2025-11-15 07:55 am (UTC)(link)
[ It all happens so hard and fast that there’s absolutely no time to make one last quip. There’s no time to catch his breath or to think or to request that Gator to slow down and give him one fucking second—as if he possibly would at this point. He’s far too stubborn and in entirely too deep to even think of making such a request. All that single beat of time allows for is a soft, strangled cry as he scrambles for purchase and stars burst before his eyes.

But it’s all to be expected. If he wanted tenderness, Gator is the very last person he’d be doing this with. This is a quiet desire that’s worked its way up to a mighty need at any cost. Addiction at its finest; anything for a hit, no matter how quick or dirty. And maybe that spark wasn’t alway there, but there was an ember, something so small and insignificant that it could be extinguished with a single breath—or, under different circumstances, stoked into a roaring flame. The latter clearly where they’ve ended up, and it just seems like the natural conclusion for their little dance. The time spent circling one another, closing in little by little, they were alway going to collide eventually, one way or another.

But after that awkward start, Eddie finds a rhythm to match Gator’s, and he’s not quiet. A never-ending stream of moans, sighs, and breathless fuck, yeses and please, please, pleases tumbles from his lips as he moves his hips in tandem with Gator’s thrusts. It’s the most polite he’s ever been, really.

He accuses Gator of being obsessed, but Eddie is no better. As enraptured as he is and as incredible as he’s feeling, he refuses to let his eyes shut. Instead, he keeps his gaze fixed on Gator whenever he can, dark and intense as ever, drinking in every shift in expression and hitch in his breath, hoping to hold him there for as long as possible.
]

I’m so—I’m so fucking close.

[ He rasps and chuckles breathlessly, and he thinks about how much he would love to draw this out even more, love to figure out how much it takes to make this man fucking beg for more, but Eddie’s already been thoroughly unravelled and it’s just a little too late for that now. He silently vows that next time, he will. Next time—it’s an inevitability now, isn’t it?

He twists away from the grip on his hair, just enough to kiss him once more, hard enough to bruise.
]

You gonna get me there, sweetheart? Bet you can't.
satanicpanics: made by <user name="inkonic"> (pic#16613125)

[personal profile] satanicpanics 2025-11-17 05:18 am (UTC)(link)
[ All according to plan. It’s more than clear that Eddie is just trying to egg him on, trying to see how much more he can put into it, and he’s not disappointed when Gator’s pace picks up. It’s pleasure tinged with pain and he’s sure he’ll end up bruised and feeling it for days, but he can’t focus on anything but the feeling and the movement beneath him right now, and the way he knows he’ll end up chasing a repeat of this again and again and again. He drinks in every kiss and bite snd mourns the loss of Gator’s mouth on his own hen he pulls away, forever desperately for more. ]

Fuck— [ He shakes his head, another chuckle edging into his breath, like he just can’t help but laugh his way through this. It’s all so ridiculous, it’s all just so much, Gator threatening to finish inside of him while the couch creaks dangerously beneath them, and he just hopes this doesn’t result in anything that he needs to awkwardly explain away later. ] Don’t care. Do it. Fucking need you to do it, okay?

[ He should give more of a shit, there should be more caution than he’s actually putting in here, but it’s too late for all of that. A problem for future Eddie to dwell on. Preset Eddie is desperate and urgent as the heat builds, and it’s all so fucking fast but absolutely incredible as Eddie fights to close any space that remains between them. He presses close, chest to chest, thigh to thigh, and comes with his face in the crook of Gator’s neck, with a shudder and a ragged groan. ]

Jesus fucking Christ—
satanicpanics: (pic#15737589)

[personal profile] satanicpanics 2025-11-17 08:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[ His brain and mouth haven’t quite figured out how to work in tandem again yet and he nods weakly, docile and pliable enough for the time being to leave his stubbornness by the wayside and tell the truth of it. It was good, a better high than anything stashed in his bedroom could possibly ever provide. He’s thoroughly satisfied, and the only problem is that he knows he was right: once isn’t enough.

With absolutely no regard for the mess between them, he slumps against Gator like a rag doll and just stays there for a moment, quiet as his heartbeat and breath match the pace of Gator’s—one beat, two, three, four…It’s the soft aftermath that pulls him back down to earth, the gentle touch on his spine so foreign from these particular hands that it slowly begins pulling on his tether, drawing him out of his stupor. Slowly, his raises his head, blinking in the dim light.
]

And here I was so eager to let everyone know I’m a cop fucker.

[ There’s no heat to it, and he mumbles, deadpan, still coming out of his haze. He doesn’t particularly care about Tillman Sr. right now, even if he is significantly more intimidating than his son. He’s not here, and there were never any plans to utter a single word about this to anyone. Eddie doesn’t feel a lot of shame about…well, anything, to be perfectly honest, but he’s not stupid. There are some things best kept quiet, and this is certainly one of them. ]

Don’t worry about it, ā€˜kay?

[ He brushes the askew hair back and kisses him once, impossibly sweet. ]

I’m not gonna say shit.
satanicpanics: (pic#15737674)

[personal profile] satanicpanics 2025-11-19 06:52 am (UTC)(link)
Hey.

[ Maybe it’s just the afterglow and the fact that he’s feeling satisfied and warm and content, maybe it’s the fact that every kiss is painfully sweet and gentle and it takes everything for him to not just melt into each one, but he feels the need to soothe that worry. Maybe an anxious man just has the innate ability to recognize anxiety, no matter how deeply buried it may be. He murmurs against Gator’s mouth as they kiss, voice soft: ]

He’s not gonna know. No one’s gonna know. I’m not exactly in the business of oversharing, so…

[ His gaze is so open and so earnest that he couldn’t lie if he wanted to. Eddie is a lot of things, but he’s not a snitch or an idiot, and he knows when to keep silent about something. No one else needs to know, it could be bad if anyone else did know, and therefore this will stay between the two of them. ]

But, uh, I suggest parking elsewhere next time. Pretty sure most noise complaint visits don’t take this long and we wouldn’t want to disappoint the neighbors when you don’t haul me out of here in cuffs, would we?

[ He’s loathe to leave the warmth of this moment, but it has to be done. With a sigh and a grimace, he finally pulls himself off of Gator, grumbling something about his inability to walk. He manages just fine, though, and vaguely gestures for Gator to follow as he slips into the tiny bathroom. It’s cramped and outdated, the same as the rest of the house, but it’s enough to get the job done.

Eddie reaches into the shower and turns the knob all the way to the right to get the water running. Shitty pipes mean a short but frustrating wait for hot water, and Eddie takes the spare moment to peer into the mirror over the sink, brushing his hair to the side to gently press his fingertips to the dark scattering of bruises forming on his throat. It’s kind of impressive work, really, and he’s not entirely sure how he plans on hiding it. He may have to lie and say he was in a particularly nasty fight.
]

Jesus Christ. Couldn’t have mauled me a bit more? Not sure I look enough like a dalmatian.
satanicpanics: (pic#16082481)

[personal profile] satanicpanics 2025-11-21 04:47 am (UTC)(link)
[ Not being hauled out of here in cuffs is definitely the cherry on top. He knows that the neighbors are going to gossip, but he’s not too worried. Their assumptions are just going to be wrong or unfounded, as they always are. Everyone assumes they know what Eddie gets up to, but they’re often wildly off base (the rumors about satanism or human sacrifice) or lacking in any concrete proof. Everyone knows he sells, but no one has ever been able to put a real pin in it, nor will they ever so long as his clientele remain silent. To the world outside, there’s absolutely no proof that this is anything more than a noise complaint run a little too long.

He’s grateful for the rush of warm water as he steps backward into it, grateful for the continued kisses that keep that high going just a little longer. He sighs, his eyelids fluttering shut as Gator’s hand falls on him and another wave of desire washes over him. It’s damn near impossible not to give in, but he’s sore and exhausted and figures it would be in his best interest to exercise some level of self restraint. At least while he still has the ability to.
]

I really want to, man, but…I’m also pretty sure you just fucked out a piece of my soul and I’m really gonna need a lot longer than two minutes to recover from all that, so…

[ They’re already in terribly close quarters, but Eddie drifts closer still, the scent of soap on his tongue as he leans in to mouth at Gator’s jaw and snakes a hand between the two of the and drags his thin fingers along the length of Gator’s cock. It’s a light, meandering sort of touch, little more than a graze, more teasing than not, but he makes I known that he would go for a second round if he could. ]

But, uh…I get you. Absolutely.

[ And why should it ever be anything else? Eddie isn’t even sure he particularly likes this man, even if he has seen a couple unexpected flickers of humanity in him this evening. And even if he is unfairly handsome. It doesn’t change the fact that he’s a cop, or the fact that he has a cruel streak a mile wide. No, he doesn’t foresee any possible risk of this becoming anything more than this fucked up little physical bond they’ve formed tonight. Wouldn’t that be a cold day in hell?

The sparkle in his eye and the smirk threatening to invade the softness of his features imply he has more to say, though, and when has he ever avoided a quip?
]

Just wondering if you’re telling me that for my sake or your own.

[ Another kiss, another touch, and a mumble against his skin: ]

But it’s cool. Pretty sure I’ll survive.
satanicpanics: (pic#15737674)

[personal profile] satanicpanics 2025-11-23 01:51 am (UTC)(link)
[ Eddie chuckles, ears just barely picking up on that mumble through the sound of the rushing water. ]

Yeah well, excuse me for needing to retain some level of mobility below the waist in the morning. Don’t you need to think about getting going anyway?

[ There’s no real urgency in his voice, and he certainly isn’t trying to speed him along. He knows that the effect of the substances haven’t quite worn off yet, and he’s not particularly concerned about company showing up unannounced—not when he’s perfectly capable of ignoring any unwelcome knocking at the door, but the squad car parked outside and the thought of how long it’s been there does stir a little anxiety, whether he thinks the neighbors will be able to work it out or not.

At another time, that flicker of anxiety might grow into more. He’s not a brave man; it would be so easy for him to grow flighty and scared and try to put an end to this right here and now, but that isn’t what happens. Lucky for both of them, that anxiety is immediately quashed beneath warm water and shockingly gentle hands working their way along his spine.
]

What a service.

[ He sighs, content in the softness of this moment despite knowing well that this won’t last for long. It’s already gone on for far longer than expected, but he’ll take what he can get while he can. It certainly makes him like Gator much more.

He twist in his arms to peer at him yet again, giving him a little nudge.
]

ā€˜Kay. Turn around. Let me return the favor.

[ Literally you wash my back, I’ll wash yours. ]

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