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Summary
Fermín shakes his head. He digs his nails under his skin, and he thinks about breaking his own wrist, or about bashing his head against the wooden door. He wants to—he doesn’t know. But he’s not doing that. He’s just not.
“I said down,” the alpha repeats. His fingers creep up, caress Fermín’s face gently. “C’mon, now. You know it hurts less if you just get it over with.”
Maybe Fermín knows that, maybe he knew that, but he doesn’t know much of anything right now. He tries his best to duck the alpha’s touch, muscles shaking, grabbing the shelves beside him so that he doesn’t collapse. No. He’s not doing it, not like this, not this easy. He thinks about screaming for Raphinha, but he’s scared of the alpha’s fingers clasping over his mouth.
~~~
An alpha uses his voice to command Fermín. The aftermath.
Series
- Part 8 of football