[ It feels cathartic, the way hitting something does, but never quite satisfies him. This feels like everything from the last month, the fear and pain, is washing away with tears down the drain, with Flynn's familiar strength under him. His breath hitches, and he breathes, and he leans into Flynn's body, and lets it all go.
He pulls himself together with a sniff and sucks in a breath, pulling back and not quite looking at him. He rubs his wrist against his face ]
Fuck, sorry. I was supposed... supposed to be helping you.
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He pulls himself together with a sniff and sucks in a breath, pulling back and not quite looking at him. He rubs his wrist against his face ]
Fuck, sorry. I was supposed... supposed to be helping you.