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Summary
Vil sighs. “Don’t make me come over there and drag you to bed.”
“I’m comin’,” Jack mutters, tail swishing lazily behind him. Warily, he takes a seat on the bed, hoping he’s not going shed terribly.
“Relax, would you?” Vil says, resting a palm on Jack’s chest. Jack rolls with the motion, allows himself to be pushed down, to be straddled. “I knew what I was getting into when I invited you here.”