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Alistair was something special, Eric thought, but particularly postcoital. That was when all the sharp edges seemed to melt into something vulnerable and Eric could hold him without needing to be concerned about the prickles.
He enjoyed Alistair's acid tongue and simmering irritation with the world at large—that was just passion in another form—but an Alistair at peace was rarer and therefore more precious.
Eric turned on his side in bed to trace a finger down the length of Alistair's spine. "Are you awake?"
He enjoyed Alistair's acid tongue and simmering irritation with the world at large—that was just passion in another form—but an Alistair at peace was rarer and therefore more precious.
Eric turned on his side in bed to trace a finger down the length of Alistair's spine. "Are you awake?"