Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

Rule 39	By : grimreaperchibi Category: +G through L > Jak & Daxter Views: 3977 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Jak & Daxter, nor the places, people, or objects within. I make no money writing this.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
A/N: Hm. Apparently I've managed to piss a few people off. Would any of you at least be willing to tell me why?
Robin: Quit making me fluff with your kind words. They're starting to go to my head. And your patience for cuddles will now be rewarded.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Rule #35: Take care of yourself before trying to care for someone else.
For a day, all Razer could do was sleep, which was a really kind way of saying that the pain meds kicked his ass into semi-unconsciousness. He didn’t sleep so much as he drifted just beyond the bounds of lucidity, sometimes left to blissful, numbing dark and sometimes close enough to have a hazy memory of a hand pressed to his forehead, or of being in enough discomfort that he’d blearily seek out another pill of nothingness. There was one of actually being pestered to eat something. At least he assumed that happened; he couldn’t remember any sort of details about the experience other than doing it, so it might have been nothing more than a fever-dream. He did remember fighting with his body temperature—too hot one moment, shivering with a chill a short while later, shifting restlessly against something warm and solid just as often as a searching hand found empty space. It was all blurred uselessly together in his head by the thick and fuzzy edges high-end painkillers were known for, leaving just about everything he remembered up for debate.
It was a fight to move the second day. Staying in bed for as long as he had might have helped his overall condition improve, but in exchange, most of his muscles had stiffened horribly. His hands were probably the worst off, still mildly swollen, mottled black under the bandages, and with very limited amounts of available motion. They couldn’t be made to straighten even against a flat surface, nor securely curl around anything in a grip. The bruising along the tops of his feet and shins were pretty impressive as well. The black eye and split lip were simply gruesome.
Staying asleep for another day would have probably been the smart thing to do, except for the fact he had a project to turn in. He did vaguely recall Phoenix saying something about his absence being noted to his teachers for the rest of the week, which was great if not somewhat bewildering (how had the idiot boy gotten his schedule?), and was ultimately of no help in this particular case. The assignment had been given to pairs, so while the instructor might overlook his lateness, his project partner might also not be so lucky. So he struggled into his clothes, fought with his book bag, and began the arduous process of walking across campus.
The cold did more to help clear his head than all the pseudo-rest he’d had so far. Most of the snow was still on the ground and the sidewalks were liberally sprinkled with ice melt, showing how much had already melted into hazardous conditions under the brightly shining sun. Had he been in a slightly better frame of mind, he might have enjoyed the beauty of the first snow of winter. Though he held no love for the deep dark of the year-end for various reasons, he did rather like those transitioning days of spring and fall, when neither seasons held complete sway over the landscape. As it was, he paid more attention to where his feet were going than the clumps of stubborn leaves now dressed in white.
Assignment delivered and feeling awake enough to be hungry, Razer turned toward the SUB, hoping to find something small that would appease his stomach without requiring his jaw to move much. He was about halfway back across the quad when he noticed Phoenix ahead of him, moving at an angle to his own path, towards a class in one of the other buildings, no doubt. Without much thought, he tried to call out and gain his roommate’s attention. His voice came out rough, refusing to carry through the chilly air. He cleared his throat to try again, this time trying to put more force behind it. All it accomplished was making his head throb.
The third time seemed to be the charm, though. Phoenix finally looked up and over…but not to him. No, the running back focused upon the body jogging towards him from a slightly different position. A girl, and better even, a cheerleader, all dressed up in her uniform as a show of support for the next day’s big game. They talked briefly, her all flushed and shy, him smiling and attentive, and the whole thing ended with her bouncing up on her toes to kiss his cheek.
Razer walked away, no longer interested in food. When he got back to the dorm, he threw himself into a shower. The hot water stung like hell, but as it slowly diminished to a background ache, it helped focus his still rather slow and muddled thoughts.
It was stupid to think that fight had changed anything. Brawls rarely sorted something other than themselves out. Just because Phoenix had come to bail him out didn’t mean the fundamentals of their relationship had changed. Suddenly harbouring feelings deeper than casual fondness wasn’t a reason to expect fidelity. He was the one who had screwed this up after all, not his roommate. And after so much time insisting there would be nothing more between them, he couldn’t just turn around and claim the opposite. Doing so wouldn’t be fair to either of them. He didn’t want an expectation for feelings returned hovering over them either. Especially not where there was a better than average chance he’d be rejected anyway.
…so it seemed as though he’d be taking the coward’s way out. If he said nothing, then there was nothing to be dismissed or returned. If he did nothing, then nothing would change and he’d be free to enjoy what time he had before they naturally went their separate ways. Perhaps it wasn’t right to not tell the other at all, but what in life ever was? At least some good would from keeping it all quiet—it meant he’d never be put into the awkward position of having to choose a hope over a promise. There was a little consolation in that, but not much.
He felt a little closer to normal when he finally finished showering. Had he been able to scrape the two days worth of growth from his face, he might even have looked close to the part. Considering the trouble he’d experienced with his keys earlier, he wasn’t willing to take his life into his stiff fingers by picking up a razor blade. One of the boons of being in pain was not caring how you looked, and for the time being, Razer ran with it. Somewhat loathe to sleep again, he settled for picking up a book and reading for a while.
When Phoenix came back from his late afternoon classes, there was no mention of seeing each other on the quad earlier. There were a few small questions about how Razer was feeling and a bit of fussing at how poorly he’d redressed his split knuckles. They wandered down to the dinner service together, argued about what was or wasn’t going to be eaten and how it wasn’t necessary to haul around both trays when he could carry his own just fine. Dinner was eaten under the happy chatter of whatever Phoenix found fascinating at the moment and devolved into companionable silence when they returned to their room. Razer went back to his book while his roommate wrestled with homework and the radio in equal turn. At some point, he drifted off to sleep, only to awaken again briefly so that he could shift over and give Phoenix room to sleep as well.
Yes, it was much better to keep the words to himself than it was to risk upsetting what he already had. It might not have been everything it could otherwise be, but when warm lips gently brushed against his forehead, it was already significantly more than Razer had ever expected to have in the first place.
***
Saturday started ugly and downhill from there.
Three days of sunshine had melted the remaining snow into slush. A sudden drop in temperature turned the remnants into ice. Combined with the steady precipitation that shifted between being too warm to be snow, yet too cold to be rain, the day of the big game had a miserable beginning. By the time Phoenix left for the locker rooms, the sky was iron grey and hailing. In the time it took Razer to cross campus to the stadium, the clouds had turned to charcoal while a sharp wind made the rain fall at a nearly unnatural angle. When the Haven Warriors and the Northland Mauraders finally took the field for the first time, said field could barely be seen though a haze of white. The school venders almost ran out of ponchos and hot drinks before kickoff.
Like most of the more intelligent fans, Razer watched the majority of the game from the cover of the stadium hallways. It was still wet and cold there, but at least he wasn’t getting soaked as well. If the hardcore fans were this miserable, what was it like for the teams who were expected to remain exposed? Not good, considering how the weather kept cycling through phases and the injury list started climbing before the end of the first quarter. Then the penalty calls started to roll in, mostly against Haven, and the atmosphere turned darker than the sky with each new announcement and loss of hard-earned yards. What started as a relatively even playing field quickly turned into a one-sided fight due to the nearly blatant favoritism against the Warriors. Since he only knew enough to understand what others were talking about and he recognized the imbalance, Razer could only imagine how well the players and coach were taking the abuse.
And then Jak went down right before half time, hard enough he had to have help getting back up. Though he managed to walk away under his own power, it wasn’t much of a surprise when he was ultimately pulled due to medical reasons. From that point on, the game was nothing less than a grudge match. Phoenix stepped into the role of quarterback like a marine captain charged with holding a particular line no matter the cost. It rest of the team certainly rallied to his call, but it was ultimately for naught. Under the combined onslaught of horrible weather, questionable referee calls, and an injury list as long as the team bench, the Haven Warriors lost their first, and probably more important, game to a grizzly score no one was happy with.
At the very least, the miserable conditions kept the hotheads on both sides cool. Fans departed with minimal grumbling at each other, hurried on by the promise of waiting warmth elsewhere. Razer lingered by the doors most of the players used afterwards, half wondering if he’d gone soft in the head and half worried he was already missed the one he was waiting for. He smoked as the rest of the team limped out, more than just their bodies feeling the pain of the afternoon’s events. If the bits of conversation he caught were to be trusted, it seemed as though Phoenix was most definitely still inside—a place he was happy to be left alone in as much as his team was happy to leave him there. Razer caught the door before it clicked shut behind the last set of teammates without really considering the action and started looking for the locker rooms that held his wayward roommate. After an unexpected run-in with Jak, who most definitely seemed to be on his last legs, he took a moment to marvel at his neighbor’s priorities (obviously looking and feeling like a hundred kilometers of bad road and the blond was asking if he was feeling okay), then he pushed quietly into the indicated room.
Whatever storm that had raged in there strong enough to send everyone else outside to embrace the other had apparently subsided. Metal and stone had absorbed the hot and bitter feelings effectively, leaving only a deafening kind of silence behind. That made it hard to judge where his query was and what state he might be in now that the violence had died down. Carefully, Razer walked down the aisle of lockers, looking for his roommate. He found Phoenix sitting still half dressed in his uniform on a bench before an open locker door, quiet, almost brittle as he stared down at nothing. His knuckles were slightly scuffed, no doubt from a couple venting punches, and he rubbed at them in a distracted manner. Closed, withdrawn, and surrounded by the feeling of barely mollified anger, it was almost like staring at another man in the skin of the one Razer knew. Yet it was the wounded undertone that reminded him why he was there, and that made him clear his throat.
“I told you guys, I just need to be alone for a little while.”
“Forty-five minutes is quite a while according to most people.”
Phoenix’s head snapped up in surprise, but the angry overtone barely flickered. If anything, it grew darker. He flexed his hands slowly and dropped his gaze back to the floor between his feet. “You don’t want to be here.”
With a slight shrug, Razer, leaned against the nearby lockers. “I have nowhere else to be.”
“Don’t be infuriating on top of being a bell-end,” Phoenix snapped back. “Go the bloody hell away, Razer. I’m not going to play one of your word games tonight.”
“I’m not playing a game,” he responded quietly.
“The fuck you’re not.” The other surged to his feet, slamming the locker door in front of him closed with enough force it rebounded back open. “You’ve always got some little trick up your sleeve, some verbal loophole you can leap through whenever it’s convenient to, let you slither out from whatever it is you don’t want to face. And I won’t have it. Not tonight!”
“Then I am to simply let you stew here alone? Let you wreck yourself for things beyond your control?”
“Yes!”
He didn’t flinch back as Phoenix ended up in his face, but he didn’t challenge the position, either. “You should know by now that I take better care of my things than that.”
His roommate turned and slammed his fist into the lockers again before stalking back the other direction. “So I should just let it go?” he demanded. “Pretend it means nothing that my team just got murdered out there on the field? I don’t need a lecture about losing gracefully and I certainly don’t need it from you, of all people. I can be as angry as I please for as long as I want without everyone harping on me about it!”
“I never said otherwise.” Phoenix only snarled in response. “Would you listen to me better if I’d dressed in one of those idiotically short skirts the cheerleaders wear?” Razer deadpanned. “They seemed to hold your attention well enough.”
It was obvious that even this deeply enraged, Phoenix’s mind still tended to pursue tangents. The thought of him in a skirt was apparently horrifying enough to displace some of the anger. Not enough to break it completely, but enough to make the running back think about something else for a minute. “What?” he finally asked a bit helplessly.
Razer found himself looking away, chagrined that he now had to admit to that small piece of envy. “I saw you on campus between classes the other day. I tried to gain your attention and failed several times. The petite brunette not three meters to my left had no such issues. I can only assume the amount of skin showing had something to do with it.”
Now it was Phoenix’s turn to look chagrined. “You saw that?”
The jealousy twisted, sharp enough to cut a neat hole in Razer’s stomach. He swallowed the resulting nausea back down. He’d made his decision; he had no right to say anything, which prompted him to reply, “You’ve always been free to pursue another—”
“It wasn’t like that,” Phoenix said hurriedly. “She wanted to thank you for something. Considering how the majority of the squad now hates your guts, she didn’t feel comfortable approaching you directly. No one would think twice about her coming to me, though. I promised I’d keep it a secret.” He sighed heavily and thunked his head against the metal door. “Another thing I’ve managed to royally screw up tonight.”
That was the break Razer had been waiting for. The anger was still there, but it was no longer pointed explosively outward. Carefully, mindful that he might still not be wanted, he stepped forward until he was standing within reaching distance. “You have every right to be angry,” he started quietly. “Honestly, I’d be more concerned if you weren’t at least somewhat upset by that farce that played out there this evening. I would never dream of telling you to simply ‘let it go.’ You are far too passionate for that to ever work out well.”
Blue eyes gave him a tired glare as Phoenix twisted to lean against the lockers. “I feel a ‘but’ coming on.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Razer reached out when the other tired to protest, letting his hand ghost across a cheek before resting on a slumped shoulder. “None of it is your fault.”
“I don’t see how it can’t be. I was the one who told Jak to go for it. I was the one who stepped in after they carted him off the field. I was the one making all the bloody calls that drove half this team straight to surgery. As if we weren’t short enough men in the first place. Now we can’t even fill a standard roster.” His fist thumped against the lockers again in frustration. “We’re getting dropped from the play-offs before we even had a chance.”
Razer flinched and withdrew his hand. He was the reason they didn’t have enough players. The fight in the parking lot had put seven men on injured leave and suspended about ten others. In essence, he’d taken down almost an entire starting line-up. There were few alternatives left to fill in the gaps to begin with. Now there were none. “You did the best you could with what you had. No one could ask for more. But sometimes even the best isn’t enough. The head referee had it out for you team since you took the field the first time. The weather was no one’s friend. You still made the other team work for their victory where so many others would have simply rolled over. There’s no shame in your defeat after all that.” There was a humourless chuckle from Phoenix. “If anyone is to blame, it’s me.”
“No.” Phoenix instantly straightened up, that fiery intensity back in his eyes and voice. “Those dumb clucks deserved everything they got and more. They picked a fight with you, not the other way around.”
“But I chose to pick a fight with that girl.”
“And she’s been a ripe pain in everyone’s arse since practice began in June. You’re just the one who refused to let her get away with it.” He huffed a bit. “Look, if I’m not allowed to take the blame for killing the team’s chances at titling, then you can’t either. Deal?”
“Deal,” Razer agreed with a small smile.
Phoenix frowned. “I just won the argument. So why do I feel like I’ve been cheated out of something?”
“Because you are an intelligent man who realizes nothing comes for free. You have won, but at the cost of your anger.”
Those metal free ears flattened out in consternation. “I told you no games.”
“There was no game. You worked it out on your own. Though if it will appease you any, I’m pretty sure your coach has already cornered the weasel officiating tonight in some dark corner of the parking lot and beaten a complaint into his spine. Should I go and extend the use of my knife to help further display our displeasure?”
“How about not,” was the somewhat late reply. “As gorgeous as you were in the heat of battle, I have no desire to see you in another fight. Remember when you thought I had lost an eye? Kindly remember that fear you felt and try not to make me feel the same, yes?"
Gorgeous had never been an adjective used in conjunction with his fighting before; it was usually the other end of the spectrum. Savate could be elegant, but the pretty stuff was all reserved for exhibitions, not street fights. The addition of le canne de combat only made it spastic in most cases. It flustered him a bit to find that Phoenix had found it appealing. “I shall endeavor to do my best.”
That earned him a suspicious look. “Okay, that’s the second round I’ve won. Who are you and what did you do with my roommate?”
“I beg your pardon?” Razer said flatly.
“I never win an argument that easily, and I most definitely never win two in a row.”
“And here I thought I was being supportive.”
“Is that what this is?”
“Apparently not. It’s merely an exercise in futility masquerading about as concern and understanding. Since you so sorely need neither, I apologize for wasting your time. Carry on as you were, then.”
There was an exasperated snort. “Now you’re playing games with me.”
“Now I’m playing games with you,” Razer agreed.
Something of a strangled chuckle worked itself out as Phoenix ran a hand through his hair, pulling it free from its band. “Bloody insufferable git…” he mumbled, but it lacked conviction. He sighed and the tension drained out with the rush of air, leaving him just as tired and bruised as the rest of his team. “…it’s really been forty-five minutes?” More like an hour at that point, though that particular detail didn’t seem worth mentioning at the moment. Razer merely nodded. Phoenix sighed again. “Guess I should stop acting like a spoilt ankle biter and get my program together, eh?”
“Do what you will. Though I’m under the impression several other people will rest easier for it.”
That earned a groan. “Jak’s going to kick my arse into next Tuesday so that the coach can kick it back.”
“I think your team is more understanding than you give them credit for.” Razer lowered his gaze to the floor in an attempt to not blatantly stare as Phoenix finished undressing. A week ago, he wouldn’t have thought twice about visually fucking his roommate during the process. Then again, a week ago, he’d been able to follow through with the act. Pain and the medication for it had been able to curb his normal tendencies. His body, however, had taken the lessening of physical discomfort as a sign that he could do more now, even if he really could or should not. Besides, Phoenix had already indulged him in a one-way lay via blowjob the day before, and though he’d been assured the lack of reciprocation on his part was quite all right, it really wasn’t. Not to him, at least.
“What are you doing just standing there?” Phoenix asked, abruptly jerking Razer’s attention back up. The other was down to a towel and the necklace he never removed, looking at him in a mildly confused manner. “Get out of those damp clothes and come take a shower with me. And don’t tell me you’re fine,” he continued before Razer could even open his mouth to respond, “because I was running in that misery and I’m feeling like a freezer pop. The deepest circle of hell would’ve been balmy compared to this. Come warm up.”
Confused himself, Razer immediately balked at the idea. “Just so that I can put my cold, wet clothes back on? No thank you.”
“There’re dryers in the back. A quick tumble’s all they’ll need.”
The bizarre requests finally registered as “awkward” and not “confused” as the other shifted a bit. With the anger gone, that wounded look had returned, making Phoenix look like the bright-eyed freshman he really was. It only then occurred to Razer that perhaps the other might not have wanted to be as alone as he’d said. With a stern note to himself that this was nothing more than repayment for the care he’d received over the last few days (which even he didn’t believe for a second anyway), Razer kept his arguments to himself and began undressing. His pockets were emptied, a towel was borrowed, the shed clothes were tossed into a dryer, and soon, he was standing under blissfully hot water trying to remember when he’d become so cold in the first place. Given the low groans coming from his roommate, Phoenix was having many of the same thoughts.
“Problem?” he asked when he noticed the other kept rolling his shoulders.
“Stiff,” Phoenix replied, trying to dig his fingers into the aching muscle. “Been a while since I’ve been the one throwing. I’m out of practice.”
“Quit that; you’ll only make it worse.” Razer swatted the offending hand away, running his own over the panels of muscle to find the knots. His hands wouldn’t put up with it for long, but… His thumbs dug into a pressure point along the spine and Phoenix moaned like he was dying in the best way possible. No, he wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long, but just long enough to at least ease some of the discomfort.
“Good God,” Phoenix stuttered out after a few minutes. “When you said you were good at rubbing out tension, I thought that was just a come-on.”
“It was a come-on,” Razer responded, shifting his attention to the next knot. “But I would never make an offer I couldn’t fulfill.”
For as good as it apparently felt to be touched, Razer felt just as good providing the touch. So he didn’t stop, even when the ache in his hands turned sharp. One more knot, one more pressure point as the burn started streaking up his forearms. He only conceded when his knuckles began grating and the tendons began to spasm. He smoothed his hands once more over the warm, wet skin just to touch a little longer, then reluctantly pulled away after pressing a small kiss to the back of Phoenix’s neck. However, he hadn’t moved back much further than a simple shift in weight when the other turned and pulled him in for a real kiss, not necessarily hard, but most definitely more than a little desperate.
Comfort. Acceptance. Stability. Control. Razer understood the need long before Phoenix whispered his name against his lips, asking, nearly pleading, when he failed to respond the first time. When he did respond the second time, he expected a rush of force not unlike what he’d pulled after Halloween, something that now felt months ago in the past. What he received, however, was a ruthless type of gentleness. Their kiss wasn’t rough despite the way their tongues pushed back and forth into each other’s mouths. The hands that held them together never grabbed, never scratched, yet constantly roamed across his skin with nothing less than possessive intent regardless of how light that touch really was. His normal, small defiances were encouraged even as they were directed—allowed to kiss back, but not to change the type of kiss. Allowed to touch back, but only above the waist. Allowed to press his rapidly hardening interest into Phoenix’s hip, but not to disrupt the slow rut that had developed.
When his lips were release so that Phoenix could molest his neckline instead, Razer was dizzy and breathless. His hand found its way into damp hair when teeth found the sensitive spot on his throat. He moaned and hung on as he was simply touched, the combination of hot water and calloused fingers almost enough to distract him from the knot of tension slowly building low in his stomach. Might have succeeded even, if it hadn’t been contributing to the want the wet friction between their groins stirred up, enough to stave off the need for more, yet less than either needed to get anywhere. It was surprisingly easy to stay there, to move as he was directed to move and not take that extra step first, no matter how assured his body was that it was ready for it.
There was still a shudder of relief when Phoenix wrapped his arm around Razer’s waist for support while his other hand almost tentatively encircled his straining erection. Razer’s own free hand traced its way down the other’s body to return the gesture and met no resistance to the action. Phoenix whined a bit as he was met stroke for stroke, but neither pulled away nor made it stop. Their mouths met again, the faint taste of iron now flavoring the kiss somehow enhancing the desperate edge they were falling towards. It didn’t take long for that single lip-lock to devolve into a series of smaller kisses caught between heavy draws of breath until they were merely panting into each other’s mouths, occasionally moving just right to make their lips brush together or letting their tongues dart out for a quick taste.
Seeking the ever elusive more, one of them shifted their grip so that both aching cocks were being stroked together while the second hand helped keep the pace steady. They clung tightly to each other for balance was they both tried to press into the increasingly slick grip, until it simply became too much. One came, triggering the other’s release as well, and for a few precious seconds, Razer stopped caring. It didn’t matter that his feelings were out of place, that sex was going to be the only thing maintaining this relationship, or that when it finally ended the way all others had that Phoenix would walk away with far more than he knew. Because this was the wonderful, beautiful, glorious now and he would not regret being a part of it even when it would lead to his ultimate ruin.
They wobbled and gasped for air in one another’s ears, holding on tightly as the world slowly came back into focus. As things began to stabilize, their grips loosened, though neither pulled away even once the trembling in their limbs stopped. Razer got the hand still tangled in Phoenix’s hair to release, petting the wet locks as the other rested his head on his shoulder, letting him come back at his own pace. With a heavy sigh several minutes later, Phoenix pressed a kiss to his collarbone and finally stepped away. It just wasn’t very far away.
They finished washing up in silence, dried and dressed to minimal conversation, and left the stadium for the night walking close enough that their arms kept brushing. The weather had somewhat cleared—the clouds had gone, but the wet, chill wind persisted. The quiet between them persisted all the way back to their dorm room, only to be replaced by the droning of the tv as Phoenix started up a movie, obviously not interested in sleep yet despite the hour. He looked confused when Razer pushed him into the bottom bunk, though he didn’t argue when the other settled next to him. What was playing held little interest and still fighting the tiredness of his recovering body, Razer was nearly asleep when Phoenix finally said something about halfway through.
“Thank you.” He spoke quietly, turning to press a kiss to Razer’s forehead. “For putting up with me.”
“Your team put up with you. I merely told you it was okay to feel the way you did.”
“No games,” was the light admonishment followed by a tap on Razer’s nose. “You let me feel, is the point. You didn’t ask me to give it up, or change it, or pretend it wasn’t as bad as it felt. And you let me feel for the right reasons and not the wrong ones. So yes, you have put up with me. That deserves a thank you.” Phoenix tilted his face up so that they could look each other in the eye. “Thank you.”
The words were on his tongue, ready to be said, so very ready to express the fluttering, flustering warmth pooling in his chest. Razer said nothing, however, as he pushed himself forward the last little bit, drawing his roommate into the softest kiss they’d shared to date. “Only fools would expect fire to not flare when stirred up.”
“What?” Phoenix asked with a small laugh.
“I said you’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t stop thinking so much.” Razer kissed him again before settling back into his previous position. “And you’re welcome.” There was a suspicious look in his blue eyes, though Phoenix didn’t question the translation either. Instead, he also settled back to finish his movie, absently rubbing his cheek against Razer’s head until they both fell asleep.
When he would wake later, stiff and aching from sleeping in a mostly upright position, the pain in Razer’s neck from the awkward angle would be worth it when he noticed how Phoenix’s fingers had become entwined with his at some point during the night.
***
-------------------------------------------------------------
To be continued.
- 10
- 11
- 12
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Rule 39