K wasn't sexy.
There wasn't a fucking thing about K that was a turn on.
Not one damn thing.
It was mostly his face.
Ugly as fuck.
But K knew how to handfuck Vice like no one else and damn that made him wantable.
Total turn off if he saw K's face though.
Vice's solution?
Paper bag.
K could do what he was doing just fine without having to fucking look at him.
Fucking was a touching thing.
K's face wasn't necessary.
And it wasn't going to be necessary.
K's job was to teach Vice some shit and then go away.
--
In the brief moments when Vice wasn't ordering a handjob, he tried to remember if K's previous incarnation had been so fucking ugly.
He sure as hell hoped not. He hoped the bastard wasn't nasty to look at.
He didn't want to have to stab his eyes out when he did remember.