“Then don’t fucking try to leave me again.” Daniel kissed him, hard and fast, sinking his tongue deep enough to taste that shine. Delving beyond that for the taste he craved. He didn’t want the polish or the shine. He wanted the darkness. The danger. And he got it. Hot and slick on his tongue, rocking him backward. Stavros held on to him by his hair, pulling so hard as they battled the way they always did. Chest to chest, heads angled, and mouths fused as they came together with greedy swipes. Daniel forgot the man dying mere feet away. He forgot disapproving Toro. And he accepted the guilt.
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