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    Summary

    [“Why don’t you show me just how sorry you are?” Dutch hums, voice even as he reaches for a cigar, lighting it, focusing on everything but the man in front of him. But the implicationis clear.

    “D-Dutch..?” Arthur stammers, heart pounding. Because he is really suggesting this. Right here, right now, after all this time.

    “You heard me, boy.” Dutch replies, lowering his head to finally meet Arthur’s eyes. There’s a heat in them, a danger. And Arthur can’t help but feel drawn to it. Right now, he wants nothing more than for Dutch to reel him in, ground him, put him in his place, just like he used to.

    So when Dutch leans back on his chair with a creak, spreads his legs and pats his thighs, Arthur drops to his knees with no hesitation.]

    Language:
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