[There's still an ugly curl of shame when his dick twitches. It's small, but it's there when he settles his palm over Eddie's head, petting down his hair. He murmurs: ] Yeah, that's it. Good boy. [and it doesn't leave. He doesn't think it'll ever leave; thinks that the wrongness of this, of wanting Eddie Munson, of wanting Billy Hargrove, will never truly go. Maybe it shouldn't.
But he can ignore it. He can ignore it because Eddie needs him. ] Tell me what you think you need, baby.
[Jim thinks he might need something sharp. Might need something that stings, something that he can soothe after. ]
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But he can ignore it. He can ignore it because Eddie needs him. ] Tell me what you think you need, baby.
[Jim thinks he might need something sharp. Might need something that stings, something that he can soothe after. ]