Prison was lonely. Neal got that. But he wasn’t prepared for the aching physical need for human contact he felt. And in the darkest nights following his darkest days, sitting on his bunk desperately trying to get himself off, he didn’t welcome images of the man who’d caught him, either.
Yet they’d pop into his mind unbidden, pictures of Peter
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Mmmmm, yes, Neal, think about rimming Peter some more....
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Love how utterly unromanticized this is. *hugs Neal*
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