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Summary
“What a fuckin’ fox, man.”
Majima isn’t jealous. He fucking agrees.
He has his arms crossed on the bar of Maharaja, nursing a glass of gin to wash out the taste of cock from his mouth. But he can’t stop looking over his shoulder at the guy Nishitani has scoped out. Majima feels like a creep, a pair of swingers seeking out some young, needy thing to sleep with.
Well—that’s exactly what he’s doing.
