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Summary
Follo could probably spend the rest of his life thinking about nothing but Gris’ hands.
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“You’re so wound up by some imagined scenario in your head you’re not thinking straight and I don’t think making yourself smell like another alpha’s cigarettes while spiraling is a productive way to work through those feelings.”
Follo’s two wrists are pulled up and then one of Gris’ hands is holding Follo’s two, pinning his arms in place above his head.
“So let’s do it a different way.”
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“I…” Uncertainty stains Enjin’s face as he frowns in a way that looks more confused than upset. “What does your kindness cost?”
“Nothing.” Alto reassures. “Now go back to sleep.”
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Gris tilts Follo’s head back as he fits the front piece against his face, on top of his nose, under his chin. The bands loop behind Follo’s ears and Gris pulls the two bits of leather taught as he secures the metal buckles.
“It’s tight.”
“That’s sort of the whole point.”
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“Alright, start over.” Follo hears Gris’ voice say.
No, no, no, no, no, fuck—He doesn’t want to start over! He wants to clear this part and finally get to the next one because he’s so close to the end and he knows he can get there because he actually studied this time! If he has to start over again and he’s going to lose his goddamn mind!