Adult Content Warning
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Summary
“Do you really want that? For me to, uh, hit you?” He whispered the last part, keeping the scene calm. March was really starting to enjoy the feeling of his hand on his pant leg, against his thigh. It was so warm. Warmer than the coil in his gut from his bubbling arousal. He could barely speak. He lit up another cigarette, puffing with the only full breath he could conjure in the moment. Chest heaving and falling.
Fuck it.
Holland March drunkenly confesses that he wants Jackson Healy to hit him.
