night out with Diego, got some sweet revenge on @aureatespeed 😮💨
into a rhythm with its idle work, pressing a trail from occiput down below the collar of his team shirt. he doesn’t even have to think of being extra careful near his traps, the care towards the sensitive area of his shoulder natural by now.
“sure did,” he confirms, glancing—
“if I am not allowed to die, you are not either,” it comes out a little flat and deadpan, but obviously an equally fond joke, his own head falling back to rest against the cushion. it is not the superior comfort of his couch at home, but it could be worse.
his hand falls —














