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Summary
“Nate, I’m gonna murder you,” Sid said, but at the same time he shifted his hips up so he could unbutton his own jeans and slide them down mid-thigh.
“That’s not nice." Nate pressed a kiss to his jaw, before ducking underneath Sid's arm to get his face against Sid’s boxers, where his dick was already pitching a tent. He pressed another kiss to the slit in Sid’s boxers, Sid’s dick trying to poke through. “Daddy.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Sid said.
