a chemical reaction (clegan sex pollen, 7.7k)
“Get out of here, Bucky.” “What?” “Leave, please. I’m not myself. Can’t control myself.” If John could read his mind right now he’d be disgusted. Instead, he places a warm, wide hand on his thigh and squeezes. It’s meant to be comforting, a gesture John’s done a hundred times before, but all Gale can think is how he wants John to grip him harder, pull his legs apart and– “I’m not leaving you.” ----------- Gale bails out and lands in a strange poppy field. They do more than make him high.
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