“sorry,” he mumbles, though it is not exactly the case when a cheeky little smile is tugging at his lips. in any case, it only takes a few moment of him running his hand along the warm expanse for it to level out into a more reasonable temperature.
bastijn blinks his eyes —
immune system is evil and somehow does not react to his, nearly ever.
it’s true, though. he’d much prefer thinking about the short span of time he has in the quiet of his home with his three favorite beings than 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 race week ahead. if he listens to the other and —
“Mhm,” he asserts, though he comes to the same conclusion, there are some things that will only push them round and round in circles, for neither of them are keen on budging. he is not in the mood to be combative when there is no need for it.
it brings a little smile to his —
tired face, to feel étienne’s chest shake with laughter beneath him. his own hand slips down to wiggle beneath the clothing that separates them until a cold palm finds its rightful place at his ribs, stealing the warmth from him with a contented little sound.
“gotta be in —
these predictor things for some reason are telling the papaya boys that they are destined to be prostitutes 🤷♂️


















