An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Summary/Excerpt:
Leo hummed, resting his fingers on Guang-Hongâs wrist and giving a light squeeze. âStorm woke meân I wanted to watch it.â
Guang-Hong snorted quietly, splaying his fingers against the warmth of Leoâs bare stomach and hugging tight. The patter of rain on the roof and the rustle of the breeze was a soothing symphony, the quiet rumble of thunder sending a shiver down his spine. He rubbed his cheek against the back of Leoâs neck as lightning flashed again, lighting up the mini swamp that was becoming their backyard.











