Sometimes, my brain reaches into the vast and wild infinite to send very unhelpful information right to the front. Right now, it does me the unfavor of making me aware that seeing Cross like this makes me want to fuck him. No, no, I don’t want to have sex with him. I want him to be fucked by me. I want to see how far this vulnerability, this devotion and willing helplessness can go. I bet he’d let me tie him up twice over. I bet he gives his lovers access to every single part of him.
