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This work could have adult content. If you continue, you have agreed that you are willing to see such content.
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Summary
“C’mon, boy, show me your teeth.” Fuma barks and there’s no place for argument. It’s not a matter of choice. Fuma has issued a command, has bared his own teeth, and Euijoo can do nothing but obey. Before his brain has time to catch up, his jaw – still tender and bruised from distorting into something that’s able to fit his teeth – drops open. Fuma runs an appreciative finger over his chapped lips, then over the newly emerged fangs and whistles lowly. Euijoo has the decency to blush.
