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Summary
“Let the whole world know that the youngest Fatui Harbinger needs to be properly fingered before important meetings. What a culturally sensitive gift that shall be,” the man sighs, relaxing back into his seat.
“How diplomatic of us,” Dottore grins in response to Pantalone. He taps Childe’s cheek with his palm once, then twice. Childe doesn’t even care, too deep in the throes of pleasure. Too distracted with the Captain’s brilliant hands to smack the Second’s hands away.
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Childe is hurting.
Luckily, he has three of his most sociable, kind, and respectful superior officers to help him out with that.
