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Summary
On his knees in a dirty servo bathroom with a hand in his hair forcing him in whatever direction wanted. The light from a small window above the mirror reflected off his sandy hair, giving him a halo.
Naim stared down at him, his stomach twisting for a second–not with lust, but something much fonder and scarier. He thought he looked a bit like an angel. He smirked to himself, the irony was not lost on him.
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Ryan gets jealous and takes Naim to the bathroom to pick a fight.
