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Summary
“boxers? as boyfriend material?”
you shrug, your movements stifled from your position between his legs, your cheek pressing up against his thigh. you shift a little, the pleats of the oversized tee you’ve stolen from him somehow having gotten stuck under his leg.
“what? you can’t tell me these-” a gesture towards his boxers, the ones you’re currently wearing “- aren’t the type of stuff a hypothetical girlfriend would steal.”
or: you fall in love with mark, pulled in his orbit like the earth to his sun, a modern icarus. you don't stop to wonder if he'll burn you.
(now a multi-chap fic, cross-posted on my tumblr.)Series