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Summary
Dazai yanks his hand away like Fyodor has burned him and narrows his eyes, but makes no move to push him away. “Cruelty can’t be applied to demons.”
Fyodor flutters his eyelashes and nuzzles closer when Dazai doesn’t stop him. “I am a disciple,” he breathes—and Dazai inhales sharply when he feels the warm air between his legs—“…not a demon.”
