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Summary
“Come on,” Cal panted. He snapped Andre out of his thoughts, and he managed to pry his eyes away from the glinting blade of his knife back to him. Flushed and panting with one of his legs on Andre’s shoulder. His right hand was holding the knife, his left rested near Cal’s ankle. “Cut me. You’re good with that knife, you never fuck it up—oh god.”
or
Cal asks Andre to carve his initials into his chest.Series
- Part 4 of Will's Stuff
