Date: 2024-12-06 07:34 pm (UTC)
generationlost: (Default)
That's your fault. If you'd left them in, maybe, eventually...

Ranboo's angry train of thought dissolves into warm fuzz as Dirk continues to touch him, brushes that thumb over the sensitive tip of their cock in a way that makes their heart start to thump just a bit harder against their aching ribs.

Everything about this situation is difficult. They want to fight and yell and cry, but they can't. Their body wants to lean into the touch, to arch up and welcome the physical relief, the spreading warmth and sweetness to distract from the pain and exertion of living, but they can't do that, either. But their cock, at least, can and does respond on its own, finally beginning to stiffen properly under Dirk's touch, their voice a soft, shapeless sound against Dirk's shoulder.

"Dirk..." Their voice is muffled against him, and it's impossible to tell whether it's horror, disgust, or need that warps the sound. Maybe it's a mixture of all three.
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