Gabe's eyes on him warm him up even more than the cocoa. He's aware of what he looks like, all long and lean and in his underwear, smeared in paint and nipples peaked and puffy from the cold. He lifts his feet onto the coffee table and crosses his ankles, lapping at the whipped cream. "An' what is it that ya want, Gabe?"
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branchandroot
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Date: 2014-10-26 10:06 pm (UTC)