Disclaimer: Free! Iwatobi Swim Club is not mine. I feel free to feel free feels though.
A/N: After some sweet anon commented on this fill on the k-meme, saying something along the lines of "hum Haru's suggestion merits action hum" MY BRAIN AGREED WHOLEHEARTEDLY AND SPAT THIS OUT HERE HAVE AT.
…Also. Yes. I'm stupidly pleased with myself for the utterly unimaginative (but I find witty) sequel name.
Warnings: Yaoi, boysandboys, gags and light bondage (think more ties, but more than one), rimming, and a little language (I think? Like maybe one word…)
•∞•• Shout! •∞••
It's the weekend—finally the weekend—and Haru swears that this week has dragged on longer than any in his life.
Not the days, per se - because although the school day is admittedly boring, full of dull lectures and lessons and school, there's also Makoto. They're in every class together, as they always have been and Haru will happily put up with any amount of literature and science and maths if it means sitting near Makoto.
(And—he'll admit—Nagisa and Rei are entertaining in their own right when they all eat lunch together, or goof off during practice afterschool).
But it's the nights that have passed since Tuesday that have been long, lonely and absolutely dreadful.
Because Tuesday was, in Haru's opinion, one of the best schooldays of his life.
On Tuesday, he got to drop to his knees and suck Makoto off right at his desk, with no one the wiser.
Tuesday night, however, was a completely different story.
Tuesday night was the night Haru replayed the scene in his head when he crawled beneath the sheets - which got promptly kicked off as a hand slipped beneath his boxers as he jerked off to the memory.
To the memory of how Makoto's pretty pink lips were spread wide around the gag in his mouth; the way the usual cries and pleas were muffled into low, sultry moans deep down in his throat; how his fingers freely scrambled and trembled and gripped for purchase on his desk.
And that's when Haru remembers the lilted promise that slipped out, almost unconsciously, as he teased Makoto to release. A whisper of an idea, mouthed against Makoto's gorgeous, olive sweat-slicked skin.
We should try this at home, later.
Maybe use your tie, too, for your hands.
It has slipped off his tongue easily enough, a spur of the moment tease that had popped into his head and felt like the most natural suggestion in the world.
He hadn't really thought about it in the heat of the moment on Tuesday. But now, all it takes is the thought of Makoto, squirming on his back with his arms tied over his head—or maybe craning his neck to look up at him over his shoulder, pleadingly…with those big green eyes, where he was shoved onto his stomach with his arms secured behind his back…desperate and achingly hard and dripping and oh so vulnerable but loving every second-
Haru comes in his boxers, one hand barely curled around his cock and the other pressed firmly against his mouth as he shouts Makoto's name, shuddering violently through his entire orgasm.
He doesn't sleep well that night.
Or the night after that.
Or the night after that.
Which is how Haru finds himself restlessly doing extra laps back and forth in the pool as he waits for Nagisa and Makoto to (finally, not soon enough, never soon enough) finish doing their times, respectively.
His far-off stares and impatience in the last few days haven't gone unnoticed by Makoto by any means; and Haru has caught Makoto sending him anxious, thoughtful looks of his own every day this week- but he did do his best to ease his boyfriend's mind, calmly telling him he'd open up this weekend.
But if Haru is distracted this practice, Makoto is impossibly unfocused.
"Makoto-sempai!" Gou sighs loudly in half fondness, half exasperation and the exclamation makes Makoto lurch off from where he's clinging to the wall, staring at Haru (so intently that Haru thinks that he may very well be trying to read his mind) and he flails in the water, sputtering.
Everyone bursts into laughter, and Makoto can't help but join in once he grasps onto the handrail of the steps, chuckling sheepishly and rubbing his head.
"Ahh, sorry, Gou-chan," (it's "Kou!") he apologizes earnestly, smiling that wide, brilliant smile that has every student in it's wake blushing (and Gou is no exception). "It's been a long day, and I'm just not really focused, I guess."
Gou rolls her eyes as she tucks back her hair but she's smiling despite herself, blush lingering on her cheeks. "Don't give me that. You haven't been focused all week, Makoto-sempai, and as for you-"
Haru blinks in mild surprise as that accusing look turns to him "-the same goes for you, Haruka-sempai!"
Haru opens his mouth to reply, but Makoto scrambles to his aid before he can so much as draw in a breath to respond. "Haru's had a hard week, Gou-chan," he says, ("why is this so hard to understand? it's Kou! Kou!") and then Haru has to avert his gaze as Makoto's green eyes open wide, shimmering with innocent concern as he tries his very best not to gaze at Haru himself. "Please don't blame him!"
Gou lets out a sigh (and it sounds suspiciously like a whined "why can't I have a boyfriend that worries like that") but then she claps her hands loudly, grabbing everyone's attention - even Nagisa's, from where he is all the way at the other end of the pool splashing a spluttering Rei as he paddles along with his kickboard.
"Alright, everybody!" she yells, tucking her clipboard against one hip and pointing at each of them in turn with the other, staring them each down sternly. "It has been a tough week and frankly not one of your best! So I want you to go home, focus on what you need to work on, rest up…" and here her face softens into a grin- "and enjoy the weekend."
Haru's gaze darts to find Makoto as Rei and Nagisa let out obedient cries and cheers respectively, and his breath catches in his throat when a shadow falls over him and he glances up into green eyes, eyes that are already staring straight back down at him, inquisitive and gentle and full of love.
He gives a short, little nod before he even realizes it and he's grabbing Makoto's hand and clambering out of the pool with more vigor that he usually ever does, and because Makoto is Makoto he notices right away and squeezes Haru's hand, not letting go even now that he's out of the pool.
They don't let go until they reach the locker room to change.
Haru watches from the corner of his eye as Makoto hesitates by his locker, and he turns slightly, to get a better look, and his eyes widen a fraction because he's staring down at something in his hand, and-
Well. It's certainly not an unexpected jolt of déjà vu, but it's enough to make Haru's pants tighten in anticipation.
"Keep it with you."
Makoto nearly jumps out of his skin and his head swings over to stare at Haru but the dark-haired teen simply continues packing up his bag, slipping his own uniform back on – and making a point of doing his tie, fingers going through the familiar action slowly, confidently.
And if both he and Makoto walk out of the lockers and towards the train station a little more than half hard, well.
It's nothing compared to how turned on they are as they make a break from their stop, clutching each other's hands and making a beeline for Haru's.
They barely make it through the front door before Haru spins around to shove Makoto back against the wall, and Makoto barely has time to so much as inhale sharply before Haru's mouth is attacking his.
"Haru, Haru," Makoto whimpers into his best friend's mouth, and his whimpers grow into whines as Haru's teeth find his lower lip and catch it to roll between his teeth, plumping his lip until it's red and swollen and tender when he pulls back to admire his handiwork.
"I haven't been able to stop thinking about it all week," Haru says bluntly, and Makoto blinks once, twice, before his face explodes into color and he ducks his head – but not before Haru catches the briefest glimpse of a wide, shy smile.
"Y-yeah? I-uh, Haru-chan, um," Makoto stumbles before biting his lips and heaving a breath before hastily stuttering, "m-m-me too."
It's all Haru can do not to veritably drag Makoto up the stairs to his bedroom, but they're stumbling into his bedroom in no time.
They tumble onto the bed together, wasting no time in struggling to tear their clothes off. Fingers trembling, Makoto undoes Haru's buttons as his boyfriend works on his, but it's harder to do when they can't quite seem to tear their mouths apart for a second.
Haru's eyes darken as he finally manages to slide the last button of Makoto's uniform shirt out of its hole and he stares at the smooth expanse of tan skin that's gradually exposed as the parted shirt slowly slides open, falling to the sides, and Haru's eyes are irrevocably drawn to the green tie that lies innocently in the middle of his chest
Makoto's breath hitches as his eyes are helplessly drawn down to Haru's hands when the swimmer sits back and slowly undoes his tie with care, eyes fixed on Makoto' and he slowly works the knot down his tie, loosening it, until it's possible to slip over his head.
A nudge at Makoto's hp, and all the brunet has to do is look up and see the silent question in his eye, and all he has to do is close his eyes against the flush rushing to his cheeks as he slips out of his skirt and raises his hands over his head, lips trembling as he tries to purse them against the embarrassing sounds threatening to spill out of his mouth.
Haru has to take a moment to stop and just breathe and he takes the moment to stare down at Makoto with clouded blue eyes.
Because Makoto looks so good, spread out beneath him, his face flushed prettily and the blush crawling even further down his chest. He looks so tempting with the faintest sheen or sweat startling to shine on his skin, catching in the evening light streaming through his bedroom window. It's so cute, the way the strands at the nape of his neck curl as they grow damp, and Haru wants to trace each bead of sweat with his tongue.
Instead, he shakes himself back to the present, here, now, because why dream of what he can do to Makoto when he can actually do it, and more, so much more?
Haru leans in and he pauses to press a soft kiss to Makoto's face, his own face mirroring the gentle smile that's spread across Makoto's lips before he reaches up to slip the tie around his wrists, pulling it taught. He shivers at the way Makoto's cock jumps against his thigh at the action, and he grinds his leg slowly between his boyfriend's, if only to make him jerk and gasp his name loudly beneath him.
Makoto's fingers twitch and curl spastically above his head where they'd resting on the pillows, but he's helpless to do anything more-and a helpless, little keen escapes his throat as his vulnerability hits him.
"Tsk, so noisy," Haru sighs, lashes lowering so that he peers through them sultrily down at Makoto. He presses kiss after kiss to the long column of Makoto's neck, letting his teeth graze the skin there softly every so often just to make him whimper to prove his point. "I should shut that mouth of yours."
"Fuck," Makoto groans brokenly, arching as Haru's fingertips ghost down his chest. "H-Haru-chan…please…"
"Would you like that?" Haru hums, sliding one long, slender finger down from his collarbone all the way to the fine hair just below his navel. He smirks to himself slightly when Makoto arches up into the touch, whining loudly when the very tip of his finger hooks beneath the hem of his pants and boxers, sliding around from his groin to his hip. "Would you like me to shut you up? Kiss you, touch you wherever I want to? Without your say? Do whatever I want with you?"
"Haru, god," Makoto nearly sobs, face scarlet as he turn his head to press his face into the pillows as best he can, but nods jerkily.
It's enough to make Haru groan with sheer want, and he bites his lip to try and swallow the sound as he slides his own tie up and over his head, carefully wrapping it around Makoto's mouth just the way that he did last Tuesday, and he prides himself in the way his fingers don't tremble.
Haru takes a moment to simply study Makoto, drinking in the sight of him beneath him.
It's not anything that's ever crossed Haru's mind before this week - anything he does with Makoto is more than enough to satisfy him. He's completely content with whatever Makoto is willing to give him.
So to see Makoto like this-
Mouth stretched around the tie in his mouth, arms tied over his head so his sinewy muscles flex and shift beneath his golden skin. Eyes clouded with desire, yet oddly bight as he gazes up at him, chest already heaving as he pulls in short, shallow pants through his nose and squirms beneath Haru's weight.
It's…altogether all too much and yet he doesn't think he can possibly get enough of it.
Makoto makes a particularly desperate keening noise, and it snaps Haru back to reality; he huffs an almost laugh at the Look Makoto is sending him, green eyes crinkling despite himself as he narrows them up at Haru with fond exasperation, and Haru hums an apologetic sounds before kissing down Makoto's chest, leaving hickey after hickey in a long, lascivious trail all the way down to his navel.
Haru's lashes flutter at the nonstop stream of muffled cries that escape Makoto's throat, and his erection throbs painfully against the zip his pants, but he ignores it in favor of driving Makoto high with pleasure, nibbling and nipping gently along the hem of Makoto's pants and nuzzling the gentle, sensitive skin of Makoto's lower belly.
The brunet arches and leans into Haru's mouth, his entire lean frame shivering from head to toe as Haru's teases go lower and lower, until he's veritably writhing and gasping when Haru's teeth finally catch on his zip to slowly work it down before he goes to town with the teasing as he works the button open.
Makoto's needy keens grow loud enough that Haru swears he can make out his boyfriend chanting his name even through the fabric. The thought that he can drive Makoto this loud, even while knowing that his pleas are futile and impossibly incoherent, makes Haru want to rock against his boyfriend all he's worth.
Finally deciding to take some pity on his squirming boyfriend, Haru pulls back to use his hands to work his pants down, pushing the slacks down to his knees and then pausing to lean back in to mouth hotly over the erection straining beneath Makoto's boxers.
Makoto arches up and off the sheets, what would have otherwise been a loud shout muffled low in his throat as Haru's tongue briefly flicks beneath the flap, making the brunet toss his head; and Haru feels heat curl low and tight in his belly as the damp patch that's been forming beneath his tongue's ministrations grows darker as precome weeps from Makoto's aching cock.
"You're so pretty like this, Makoto," Haru sighs against the inside of Makoto's thigh, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the warm skin there and smiling against his skin when Makoto lets his legs fall apart a little more in response as a small, happy sigh escapes his taller boyfriend's nose - and somehow, it's just as warm a response as the gentle words he knows Makoto is itching to offer in reply.
The dark-haired teen leaves one last kiss to the inside of Makoto's knee before he pulls back to work Makoto's pants off the rest of the way, and he tugs Makoto's boxers down along with them for good measure, tossing them carelessly aside.
Haru hungrily takes in Makoto's flushed, bare body and suddenly he's all too conscious of how many layers he's still wearing. He hastens to shrug off the shirt that Makoto managed to unbutton with his hands' last few seconds of freedom, and he drops it to the ground to join the growing pile of clothes.
His pants are promptly kicked off next, and Haru raises a questioning brow at the unmistakable sound of an amused snort.
His eyes follow Makoto's gaze, and his face falls flat as he realizes that Makoto's shoulders are silently shaking with mirth when his jammers are revealed– and while he's tempted to remove to gag just to dare Makoto to laugh outright at him, he's far too preoccupied with the way Makoto can't seem to help shifting restlessly beneath him, and he thinks his voice may break if he tries to speak now.
So he rolls his eyes with a slight, reluctant smile and slips out of his swimsuit, and then Makoto goes very still beneath him all of the sudden, to Haru's satisfaction, and he slides his hands up along Makoto's toned arms before gliding them back down to run appreciatively down his slides, silently delighting in the involuntary shivers he elicits from the sensitive brunet.
It's quiet; really, weirdly quiet without Makoto's sharp gasps and even louder cries - but it's, somehow, extremely erotic to see the way Makoto moves to make up for it, even with his hands (quite literally) tied.
Makoto tosses his head back in pleasure; he hides his face in the pillows in embarrassment; he rolls his hips in need; and his arms stretch and strain over his head in desperation.
Haru doesn't think he's been harder in his life.
"Oh, Makoto," he half sighs, half moans as he lines up their bodies together at last, and they both let out strained groans when their cocks slide together, and Makoto's eyes snap shut as his cheeks flush dark when precome starts leaking from his slit and his hips give a few weak, unbidden thrusts at the contact.
"You want me, Makoto?" Haru teases softly, idly kissing some of the darkening bites he left before as he shifts his weight to start rocking slowly against his taller boyfriend, gyrating their hips together in a maddeningly slow rhythm that has Makoto's hips bucking up of their own accord as he nods frantically.
Haru hums gently as he nuzzles his boyfriend's face soothingly in response to the muffled whines and pleas that strain to get through the fabric in Makoto's mouth as shudder after shudder racks through his body. "I'll give you what you want, Makoto," he breathes, brushing his lips over one hardened nipple before dragging the flat of his tongue roughly over it as he thumb at the other, making his boyfriend cry out wantonly. "I'll give you everything you want, always."
Makoto lets out a shaky, low sound at the promise and tips his head back to gaze up at Haru through desperate, almost lost green eyes, and Haru decides he's given Makoto his fair share of teasing and really ought to give him what he wants.
Haru peppers kisses all the way from the curve of Makoto's neck and shoulder, down to the hollow of Makoto's thigh, kissing the skin chastely before shifting back to grasp Makoto's ankles and ease they apart wider, making a soft tsking sound when Makoto instinctively tries to close them again - blue eyes meet green ones briefly before Makoto's gaze darts away as he shyly opens them obediently wider.
Haru makes a soft sound of approval before grasping Makoto's hips, settling comfortably between Makoto's legs and then trailing his lips along Makoto's length, making him cant his hips down towards the wet heat of Haru's mouth.
And then his hips jerk away as he flinches with a sharp yelp when Haru licks a hot wet strip over his entrance.
Haru's fingers squeeze Makoto's hips gently, thumbs tracing tiny circles until Makoto's trembling eases into an occasional, full-bodied twitch whenever his breath ghosts over his perineum, and Haru tilts his head to kiss a slow trail up from Makoto's mid thigh, until his lips brush over his twitching hole again, where he circles it lightly with the tip of his tongue before running the flat of his tongue over the quivering muscle once more.
Makoto doesn't try and scramble away this time but it is a near thing—his legs are taught and straining, as if he's not sure whether he wants to open them wider or squeeze them tightly shut in mortification, but his chest rises and falls unevenly in the way it does when Haru does something that Makoto finds particularly dirty but absolutely loves and can't get enough of.
So Haru glances up at Makoto, watches him stare back with desperate, helpless, nearly palpable arousal; and he slowly, so very slowly does it again, laving languidly at Makoto's puckered hole and feeling arousal thrum through his body with every broken cry that rises in Makoto's throat.
Faintly, he wonders if it's possible for Makoto to scream himself hoarse while gagged, and finds the thought to be startlingly hot - so he decides to do his best to make good on the possibility.
And by that he means he decides to give an experimental thrust of his tongue into his boyfriend's slick hole.
The scream of Haru is obvious even with the gag, and Makoto's entire body seizes violently and when Haru hears nails scrabbling against the headboard, he knows that he's finally driven Makoto to compulsive, unrestrained reactions; that he can't help but try and grasp at something, anything, for purchase, even with his hands tied.
Logic has all but flown out the window for Makoto.
It's really, really hot.
Because now Makoto is arching, writhing, sweating and screaming freely into the gag, too lost in overwhelming need and pleasure and can't do a thing about it, which means he bucks without restraint at Haru, the one who can, the only one who can.
Haru barely manages to keep from reaching down to squeeze his throbbing erection for relief, instead grinding his hips down into the mattress with a stifled groan as he starts to thrust his tongue in and out of Makoto with tiny flicks, curling his tongue on occasion just to rip even louder cries from his gorgeous boyfriend's throat.
Makoto doesn't try and shy away from the attention anymore, instead going boneless beneath Haru whenever his body isn't practically thrumming with tension from the ministrations.
Haru can't get enough of his boyfriend like this, but he's also increasingly aware of his own arousal demanding attention - that he's growing dangerously close to simply cumming on the sheets, and so he pulls reluctantly back, doing his best not to let Makoto's strangled whine affect him by focusing on forcing himself to stop rutting against the bed.
Makoto's hazy green eyes follow Haru dazedly from beneath damp lashes, and Haru can't help but lean in to kiss away the wetness from Makoto's cheeks, licking the tear tracks softly as if an afterthought, if only to make his boyfriend give a small, strained smile around the tie.
"You're so amazing, Makoto," Haru whispers, barely audible over Makoto's harsh pants – but his best friend hears him anyway, and he gives a tiny shake of his head, to Haru's chagrin.
"Yes, you are," he says, a little louder, a little firmer, as he reaches for his nightstand to grab the lube that stands proudly beside his lamp for all the world to see (despite Makoto's numerous pleas for his to put it somewhere at least a little more subtle) and he pours a generous amount in his hand, because he doesn't know if he's opened Makoto nearly enough, and he isn't about to risk hurting him now just because he desperately wants to be inside him.
"You're an amazing boyfriend. The best," he adds on, pressing a kiss to the corner of Makoto's mouth as the first finger slides easily in and so he promptly adds a second digit, working a third in nearly as quickly before starting to pump them in and out of Makoto shallowly, spreading them apart a little more each time, until they're splayed widely and Makoto's voice goes shrill through the gag as Haru curls his fingers to rub against his prostate. "How could I want anything more, when I have Makoto?"
Makoto looks torn between laughing and crying and a million other things, but he settles at last for tilting his head up to press his forehead to Haru's when the dark-haired teen leans in to press one last, lingering kiss to his cheek, and they still for a moment, simply reveling in the other, before it becomes too much for Haru, and he needs to be in his lover now.
He lurches to the side to scramble impatiently through his drawer for a familiar foil packet, ripping it open with his teeth and tossing the wrapper aside to roll the condom over his aching length before pressing into Makoto without preamble.
Makoto's fingers curl and uncurl frantically into the pillowcase over his head as he breathes faster and faster, panting shallowly through his nose, loud and almost painful sounding, but he presses his hot cheek into the coolness of the pillow as he gasps through the sudden fullness, green eyes fluttering madly as he gazes up at Haru hazily from the corner of his eyes.
Haru grits his teeth against the urge to simply slam into Makoto all the way, and he moves slowly, steadily forward, until all the air rushes out of him in a rush of breath that sounds suspiciously like Makoto even to his own ears, hands scrambling to grip Makoto's hips as he bottoms out - making his mouth fall slightly open as his head tips back in pleasure.
"Oh god, Makoto," he moans, a little broken, and he can't help but start moving all at once - picking up a quick, shallow rhythm that has both of them crying out hoarsely for more. He drops his head to Makoto's shoulder, panting harshly against his skin as his thrusts grow steadily faster and deeper, pulling out a little further each time until he's very nearly out all the way before slamming home each time.
Makoto arches and cants his hips shakily back up into Haru's each time, high pitched wails muffled into desperate, needy sounds that only fuel Haru's own desire, and he shifts that slight bit he knows easily by now to grind into Makoto's sweet spot each time.
His reaction is instantaneous – Makoto's wails break into a silent scream as his body is racked with shudders of pleasure and his legs buckle where they're firmly planted on the mattress for leverage. So now it's all he can do to scramble to wrap them around Haru's waist for support, and he arches against his lover when Haru helps hike them higher, gripping Makoto's thighs as he leans in ever closer so that they're flush against each other now—
And Makoto's silent screams break back into sound as his cock is trapped between their stomachs, roughly rubbed between them, and all it takes is one, two more thrusts before he comes hard with a shrill, broken cry – releasing spurts of hot cum all over their stomachs, and making them slide together even more slickly—and then Haru's orgasm is crashing over him barely a heartbeat later.
He bites back a yell of his own, clenching his jaw and panting roughly through his release as he clutches at Makoto tightly, desperately, rocking them all the way through their climaxes, before eventually slumping down onto his boyfriend with an exhausted huff – too tired to move even with Makoto's chest heaving hard beneath him, jostling up and down for a good few minutes while the brunet catches his breath.
Finally, after what feels like a small eternity, Haru musters enough energy to pull out of Makoto (who lets out a tiny, regretful sound which he responds to with a kiss dropped onto his nose) before he ties the condom and drops it blindly over the side of his bed, halfheartedly hoping he makes it into the trashcan standing there.
He takes another few moments to catch his breath before pushing himself up onto his knees to carefully undo the restraints on Makoto's wrists, dropping the hopelessly wrinkled thing to the floor before making quick work of the gag as well, where the second tie promptly meets the same fate as its twin.
"Was that good?" Haru asks immediately, eyes searching Makoto's face intently as the brunet stretches his arms with a slight wince and works his jaw gingerly, experimentally – before he breaks out into a smile that tells Haru a million things, all at once, and all of which immediately drain the tension he hadn't even noticed gathering in his shoulders.
"Definitely more than good, Haru-chan," Makoto replies, wincing a little at the sound of his voice (which, Haru notes with no little amount of pride has, indeed, gone noticeably hoarse) and he clears his throat before going on, face growing pink. "That was…really hot. Amazing, actually," he confesses as he twists his wrists—but he can't quite meet Haru's eyes as he, predictably, starts going over everything his best friend did to him (and his pink blush quickly grows into a much deeper red).
"I'm glad. I liked it too. A lot," Haru nods shortly, biting his lip as he notices the redness all along Makoto's wrists and also quite noticeably around the now-chapped corners of his mouth. Makoto's eyes snap to Haru's when the dark-haired teen shifts silently, a little uncomfortably, over him, and his eyes soften as he smiles sweetly up at his boyfriend, reading his mind, knowing him all too well.
"I'm fine, Haru-chan, really," he giggles breathlessly, reaching up to brush some of Haru's fringe away from where it's stuck to his forehead and his eyes sparkle with warmth. "More than fine, actually. Better than I've been in days."
And there's so much sincerity in his eyes, that Haru can't help but finally crack an answering (probably stupid) smile of his own in return, because.
Well.
Apparently he wasn't the only one worked up since Tuesday, after all.
••∞•Owari•∞••
A/N: So um this happened over the span of two days and it happened kinda faster than I thought it would. Especially considering I had family constantly surrounding me the whole time I wrote it so…yep there's that. Uhwaah I'm a horrible person /shifts awkwardly from foot to foot I really really hope that this was at least half as good a follow up for the first chapter as you guys were hoping…if you were hoping…I dunno…I'm just. Yeah. There you go. Please accept this as a very happy New Year present! /hands
Please Read and Review~
