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Summary
"Fire flashed in those pretty eyes, relaxing further into the creaky chair. A broad hand curled to cushion his chin, fingers tapping invitingly against a strong cheek bone as Herbert spread his legs impossibly wider. His other hand trailed down to gently thumb his protruding zipper. But made no further move to follow an expecting Russian.
“Guten niaght Heavy. Danke for the sandvich.”
Two could play at that game, Medic just so loved to play hard to get. And Heavy was more than happy to oblige."
