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Summary
"My rut started," Wriothesley grumbles, fighting the urge to rub all over his bedmate. Instead, he presses gentle kisses to his boyfriend's hair.
"Oh?" Alhaitham stretches against him, letting him feel every inch of his body, his thigh shifting where it's slotted between Wriothesley's, pushing up against where he needs friction the most.
Wriothesley hisses, "Tease."
