Kit had been subsumed with work--and writing--as per usual, but when he finally lifted his head from his labors, he realized autumn truly was upon them and he...needed to get out more. The fact that the play he was working on wasn't going anywhere fast, and, four hundred years lapsed or not, he desperately wanted to ask Will about a certain meter
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For now he simply focused on each bit of newly exposed skin, slowly working the other man's pants over his hips.
[ooc: Private journal time?]
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