judgement by the hounds
nate/cale, 2k, E. fraught blowjobs, face slapping and light dom/sub after game 3.
For an instant, Cale is frozen. The sound of the hit rebounds in his skull. A solid thwack, his palm meeting Nate’s hard cheek. Then Nate lifts his head, the haze cleared from his eyes, and his lips pressed together in a hard, unhappy line. There it is, that was the play, Cale thinks.



















