Here is some SolEri black to red quadrant flipping, with no plot and no character development! (Just what the world needs.)
The warnings are kind of long because I think this is weird, and I don't want people to get stuck reading something they think is disgusting.
Warnings: chapter one includes using psionics to induce pleasure in a public setting, fingering, and actual sex-smut (Sollux x Eridan) with no bucket; chapter two involves mutual handjobs; there are lots of colorful fluids and gills and dick fins, but other than that, no alien anatomy stuff.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.
Eridan was at his computer terminal, minding his own business as usual and certainly doing absolutely nothing to provoke any of his numerous potential romantic interests when it started.
At first, he didn't think anything of the strange tingling in his fingertips and against the back of his neck. It was hardly noticeable. He continued doing what he was doing. Which was not trolling one of his many potential matesprits. Or kismeses, he wasn't about to be picky. But when the sensation became a little more insistent, a little more solid—almost like fingers wandering over his skin—he couldn't ignore it. One of his asshole "friends" had to be fucking with him. He glanced warily over his shoulder. Not only was no one directly behind him, no one was even paying any attention to him. Pretty fucking typical, he was used to it. He returned his attention to his computer, absently rubbing the back of his neck.
And then a tingling, almost electric sensation shot up his spine. Eridan inhaled sharply and froze, eyes wide, hands suddenly gripping the edges of the keyboard as the strangely pleasant, burning feeling faded. For almost a minute, he waited, completely still, and when nothing else happened, he actually started to think maybe he'd imagined it.
He allowed himself to relax. A furtive glance over his shoulder revealed that the others were as disinterested in his goings-on as ever. Screw them. And screw his overactive imagination. With a huff, he turned back to his computer screen and made to start a new dialogue in trollian. But he couldn't move his hand enough to reach the necessary keys. He frowned. He flexed his fingers and balled both hands into fists—but neither hand could budge from its position next to the keyboard.
"The fuck," he muttered, trying to take a step back. As soon as his foot hit the floor, the hot, tingling sensation returned full-force, this time on his wrists. And holy fuck, he was definitely not imagining things. His pulse quickened as he struggled to tug his hands away from the counter. The momentary surge of panic was quelled almost entirely when he caught a glimpse of flickering red and blue tendrils of energy swirling around his wrists and forearms. A small smirk tugged at his lips. So he had finally gotten the four-horned freak's attention? This could be interesting. He was dying for a rematch with that prick. He glanced over his shoulder toward Sollux, but the other troll had his back to Eridan, slumped over his computer, his posture seeming almost bored. And then Eridan's head was whipped back to face his own screen with the force of a slap. His cheek even stung as if he'd been hit. He reflexively tried to bring a hand to his face to assess the damage, but his wrists were still held fast to the counter.
Eridan jolted as another bolt of energy shot up his spine, this one more intense—like fire licking a focused trail along his skin. He hated the way his entire body heated up at the unfamiliar contact. What the fuck did Sollux think he was doing? Eridan tried to look over at the psionic but he suddenly found himself unable to turn his head. He could feel tendrils of energy on the back of his neck and his shoulders, applying rhythmic pressure against his tense muscles. And it actually felt rather nice. Not wanting to give that moirail-stealing asshole the satisfaction of his resistance, Eridan willed himself to relax into the ministrations, slowly closing his eyes and breathing deeply. It would really teach Sollux a lesson if he enjoyed this, right? He was certainly not prepared for another sharp burst of sensation from the small of his back all the way up to the back of his head. He bit his lower lip to muffle a verbal reaction to the stimulus. And then the length of his spine was tingling as the pulsing energy stretched up his back and curled against the base of his skull. He tilted his head, leaning into the sensation, and actually had to fight to stay silent as the massaging tendrils danced across his scalp.
The pleasant sensations were short-lived, however. As soon as Eridan had let down his guard, another more intense surge of energy jolted him back to attention. What the fuck was that asshole playing at? He was tempted to call that prick out in front of everyone—but then the thin tendrils of energy began slithering from his spine to the front of his body. He shivered at the unexpected stimulation along his gills, but before he could even react to that, the tingling sensation was rolling down his abdomen and—and then he figured out exactly what the other troll was playing at. Hell. Yes.
The tendrils dipped beneath the waistband of his pants, and he gripped the keyboard fiercely. The first tentative brush against his half-hard length had his bulge fully erect in seconds and left him fighting back a groan. The tingling contact receded, only to slide lower—roving over the insides of his thighs and fleetingly pressing upwards to lift and roll the vulnerable sac. Eridan's breath hitched at the contact. He felt his face heat up, which was odd because surely all of his blood was between his legs. All of it. There was none left to spare for idiotic activities like blushing.
He tried to breathe slowly and focus on maintaining a calm façade; for once, he absolutely did not want to attract attention. But that was getting harder and harder to do with the constant sizzling energy exploring the most private area of his body. To make it worse, his bulge was largely left untouched. The probing tendrils crept close several times, tingling energy caressing his heavy balls and teasing the base of his erection, but the sensation was far more frustrating than pleasurable. When he felt tendrils creeping up his thighs and toward his bulge, he bucked his hips shallowly, trying to get a little more friction.
But the tendrils below his waist pulled away entirely, and he had to bite back a disappointed groan. After several seconds of no contact, his eyes opened and he blinked blearily at the yellow text appearing in the open window on his computer screen: eheheheheheh.
Burning anger welled up in his chest. His hands balled into fists, claws digging painfully into his palms. He was going to fucking murder that worthless piece of shit lowblood. As soon as he somehow got himself free of the psychic bonds. And holy fuck he had to bite his tongue not to moan when the electric tendrils unexpectedly returned full force, now roving unabashedly over his straining erection, pumping the shaft, sliding over the head and blindly jostling the sensitive fins on either side. Fuck fuck fuck it was too much too sudden. He could feel the lubricating pre-come gathering at the tip of his bulge, and then that tingling energy was rubbing the swollen head, dragging across his leaking slit and smearing the slippery fluid against the oversensitive flesh. Blackness crept into the edges of his vision, making it nearly impossible to decipher that gaudy yellow text. The molten heat in his groin intensified, threatening to spill over. How the hell was he so close already?
The crackling tendrils began roving over the length of his erection, squeezing and stroking the shaft, and dipping lower to tease the heavy balls. He bit his lower lip to stifle a whine. And then the tingling energy darted lower, teasing the sensitive skin behind his sac and writhing against the tight opening. And holy shit, of all things, that was going to send him over the edge.
He nearly collapsed when he started coming. The only thing keeping him on his feet was the psychic hold that had at some point spread to his chest and back and beneath his arms. He mercifully managed to stifle the sounds of pleasure, but that became far more difficult when the frantic tugging on his bulge only grew faster and rougher as he released. Struggling against the urge to buck his hips, he slumped forward—and then had to catch himself, palms flat against the counter, as the every trace of energy disappeared. He hunched over his keyboard, trying to make it seem like he was just very interested in the revolting yellow text on his screen and was not in fact coming violently in his pants.
But there was so much of it, and he could feel it soaking through his boxers, and fuck he needed to get out of there before anyone noticed. Then he could regroup and change his pants and then murder Sollux. Barely able to see as weak waves of pleasure continued to crash throughout his body, he shoved himself away from the computer console and took off in the direction of the transportalizer. He was dimly aware of a few puzzled whispers, and then he found himself blissfully alone. He stepped off of the pedestal and immediately sank to his knees, slumping to the floor and waiting for the violent spurts of hot fluid to subside.
For several long seconds, he felt like he might never stop coming. But then it was finally over, and Eridan relaxed, collapsing into a sated mess and trying to catch his breath. Fuck. When his vision cleared, he could see his pants starting to stain purple between his legs. Luckily he had more than one pair. And as soon as his heart wasn't beating in his throat, he was going to take care of that.
He should have known that life would never cut him a break. He was still struggling to breathe when the transportalizer crackled behind him. He didn't even need to turn around to know who had followed him.
And there were so many things that he wanted to say, but nothing intelligent or coherent seemed capable of leaving his throat. "I fucking hate you," he growled. Fuck. He was such a fucking idiot—that was way too forward. He was better than that. Wasn't he? But Sollux didn't seem to care. Obviously that piss-blooded freak didn't know anything about good manners.
"Glad we ethtablished that tho quickly. Now where'th your pathetic wand pile?"
Eridan glared at Sollux over his shoulder. He fucking needed to wipe that smug look off the other troll's face. "Nowwhere you'd find it," he snapped, groaning inwardly. Seriously? That's what you went with? Although it was pretty cheap of Sollux to expect coherent banter after what he just did.
Sollux just smirked at him and took off in the right direction. When Eridan didn't move, he paused, glancing back and raising an eyebrow as if Eridan were some half-wit wiggler slated for culling because of his severe lack of mental faculties. "Do you want to fill a quadrant or not?" Sollux called.
Eridan perked up at that, his heart practically leaping back into his throat. Yes. Fuck yes, he did want to fill a quadrant. Filling a bucket would be nice, too. He was sure he could be ready to go again pretty quickly. He slowly got to his feet, trying to ignore the sticky mess between his legs and the fluid slowly trickling down his thighs, and followed Sollux. He bristled when Sollux headed straight to the hidden corridor. Fucking hell, did everyone know where his pile was? Was he just a big joke to them?
He had almost caught up to Sollux when the other troll whirled around and physically slammed him against the wall. Eridan's hands immediately fisted in the thin shirt, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to shove Sollux away or pull him closer. The lowblood solved that problem for him, violently connecting their lips in a harsh, bruising kiss that involved far more teeth than Eridan was expecting. Sharp claws dug into his shoulders, and Eridan responded by roughly nipping at the thin lower lip. He released his grip on the lowblood's shirt in favor of wrapping his arms around the slender chest and digging his own claws into the other troll's back.
Sollux pulled away, and Eridan was about to rake his claws down the length of the thin back when out of nowhere a hand cupped his bulge and started rubbing him through his still wet pants. He hissed at the unpleasant stickiness—but it wasn't unpleasant enough to stop his bulge from getting fully hard within seconds of the constant attention. Fucking teenage hormones.
Sollux nipped at the soft fins on the side of his face. "Look at you," he whispered. "You're a fucking meth, and yet you're thtill dethperate for thith." He gave the hard shaft a rather rough squeeze, and Eridan was rather pleased with himself for not whimpering at the mixture of pleasure and discomfort.
"At least I'm not a revvolting mustard-blooded freak wwith a hideous lisp," he snarled. "Come on, Sol, evven you realize howw fuckin' despicable you are. Wwe both knoww you hate yourself more than I could ever hate you."
Apparently he was pushing the right buttons because Sollux was on him again, kissing him roughly, sucking his full lower lip between those fangs, and biting, and when Eridan tried to respond, the lowblood gave his oversensitive bulge another harsh squeeze through the wet fabric, and it hurt so good. Eridan's hands moved to unzip Sollux's pants, his fingers brushing against the tented fabric, but before he could actually do anything he felt the familiar crackle of psychic energy and then suddenly his hands were pinned to the wall on either side of him.
His gaze flicked to the other troll's face, and he suddenly found himself staring into the most stunning eyes he had ever seen. Beads of sweat had formed along the psionic's forehead and the two-tone glasses had slipped down the bridge of his nose. There seemed to be an almost palpable, livid heat behind those two-tone orbs, and Eridan found his gaze darting between red and blue, unsure which one he would rather be gazing into. And then Sollux pushed the glasses back into place, and Eridan's heart sank a little in disappointment.
And then his mind went blank as a thin hand returned to the damp, tented fabric between his legs. Eridan's eyes rolled back in his head as the other troll roughly ground his palm against the still oversensitive length. It was simultaneously too much and not enough, and he desperately hoped that high keening sound was coming from Sollux and not him—but he knew he wasn't that lucky. He could feel the lowblood's breath hot against his left cheek before sharp fangs grazed his fin.
"You are tho." A hot tongue darted past thin lips, dragging agonizingly slowly along the webbed flesh. "Fucking." The hot breath from the hissed word felt cold against the wet trail on his fin, sending a violent tremor down Eridan's spine. "Pathetic." Sharp fangs bit down on the thin flesh, sending a surge of bright pain throughout his body—but that was quickly overpowered by an intoxicating pleasure as that fucking hot tongue began running along the edges of the fin.
"Oh, cod." Eridan could feel his knees weakening. It must have been obvious that he was about to melt into a comically aroused puddle of slime because suddenly the tingling energy was back, pressing against his shoulders, pinning him to the wall and holding him up. He couldn't suppress the small groan as the other troll began nibbling along the edge of the delicate fin, erratically switching between gentle grazing and sharp biting. His bulge throbbed dully, in dire need of attention. As if Sollux could read his mind, he slipped a slender thigh between Eridan's legs and pressed firmly against the damp, tented fabric. The contact was maddeningly insufficient, and Eridan found himself rolling his hips, grinding against the lowblood's leg. Fuck, it was humiliating, but it felt way too good to even entertain the notion of stopping.
He didn't realize how much he was relying on the other troll to support him until Sollux pulled away, and Eridan found his hands clutching the thin shoulders. That infuriating smirk was back, and he wanted nothing more than to wipe that expression off the lowblood's face. But then Sollux leaned forward until the tips of their noses touched, and Eridan couldn't tear his gaze away from those penetrating dichromatic eyes.
"Get on your handth and kneeth."
There was no way something that quiet should be able to sound so forceful, and even though Eridan bristled at the idea of obeying an order from that mustard-blooded sack of excrement, there was no way he could have refused him. His bulge throbbed angrily at the prospect of taking this further. And considering all of his muscles seemed to be the consistency of slime, dropping onto his hands and knees was a pretty simple, almost enticing action. It was really fuckin' unfair of Sollux to take advantage of his obedient post-coital state.
He could hear the sounds of shuffling while Sollux knelt behind him. The hem of his cape was lifted and pulled halfway up his back, and he shuddered as cool air washed over the wet fabric of his pants. Thin hands settled on his ass, fingers momentarily wandering before roughly squeezing. One hand trailed down between his spread legs, cupping him through the thick, damp fabric and firmly rubbing. Eridan couldn't stop the moan that tore from his throat, and he couldn't stop himself from rocking his hips to get more friction. And fucking finally Sollux took the hint and began slowly unzipping the front of his pants.
Slender fingers slipped inside the open fly and began lightly stroking him through the wet boxers. Eridan's back arched involuntarily, pressing his clothed bulge against the thin hand. Sollux gave his achingly hard shaft a firm squeeze, causing his vision to explode in white flashes. And then the hand fell away, and it took all of his willpower not to whine at the loss. Eridan could feel Sollux wiping his hands against the back of his already stained striped pants.
Eridan shot Sollux a venomous glare over his shoulder. "It's your fault for fuckin' molesting me when I wwasn't expecting it." Oh, carp. Yeah, he did sound kind of desperate.
That fucking smirk. "You enjoyed every thecond of it, shit thtain. Bethideth." Slender fingers slipped beneath the waistband of Eridan's boxers and eased the wet fabric over his hips. The boxers pooled around his knees, and he shuddered again when the cool air assaulted his oversensitive, damp flesh. A surprisingly soft, warm hand cupped his sac, and Eridan slumped forward, resting his weight on his elbows and fisting both hands in his hair. He almost didn't realize that Sollux was still talking. "I had no idea you would come tho fatht. Hathn't anyone ever touched you?"
And Eridan was about to retort and it undoubtedly would have been something witty and scathing that would have completely shut Sollux down, but then that pleasantly soft, warm hand was gently rolling his heavy balls and the thin fingers of the troll's other hand were teasing his tight entrance, and it was suddenly very difficult to think, let alone form coherent sentences. Apparently other forms of verbal communication were not an issue. Fucking hell, why couldn't he stop moaning?
Eridan struggled to breathe evenly as a thin finger, slick with his own cool genetic material, wiggled past the tight ring of muscle. The intrusion wasn't uncomfortable, but it did feel sort of strange, and fuck he really wished Sollux had given him a little more time before pressing a second digit inside, holy shit. He tried to relax when he felt the fingers curling inside him, searching for a certain spot. He definitely didn't feel ready for the third finger. The burning stretch was more than uncomfortable when the other troll began spreading his fingers and wiggling them discordantly. Part of Eridan wanted Sollux to go slower, but that probably wasn't something he should ask of a kismesis. There was no way he could stop the groan when all three fingers were buried to the hilt and then sliding rhythmically in and out.
But then the other hand lifted his sac, a soft thumb moving in caressing circles against one of his balls. And the fingers inside his sphincter curled suddenly, pressing directly against that sensitive gland, and fucking hell, he had no idea anything could feel this good. White fireworks burst behind his eyes, and he was dimly aware of how loud he was moaning when Sollux began flicking his fingers roughly against that spot. There was a surge of molten heat in his groin and he desperately wished Sollux would just move his hand and start stroking his bulge. He began rocking his hips back against the invading digits, and there were several long seconds of absolute fucking bliss and then nothing. Nothing.
He groaned in frustration as Sollux withdrew his fingers. The hand fell away from his balls and with it went Eridan's hope of actually getting some decent friction against his aching erection. He glanced over his shoulder in time to see the lowblood undoing his pants. Eridan stared as the yellow-flushed erection was exposed. Considering the other troll's freakish mutations, Eridan had half-expected him to have two bulges. Not that he was at all disappointed in the one; the shaft was thick and very hard, and it was difficult to tear his eyes from the yellow-tinged fluid gathering at the head. Until he noticed the other troll's annoyed expression. Sollux met Eridan's gaze evenly and eased his hips forward, pressing the tip of his bulge against the stretched entrance. Eridan quickly faced forward and tried to stay relaxed, even though his pulse was racing with excitement at what was about to happen.
There were a few long, agonizing seconds of pressure, and then the head of the lowblood's erection pushed past the tight ring of muscles. Eridan froze, fighting back a whimper at the painful intrusion and trying not to tense even more. And then Sollux was pushing deeper, and Eridan was struggling to adjust. Thin fingers settled on his hips, holding him still as Sollux slowly seated himself. Eridan slumped forward, resting his head against his forearms and groaning at the fullness. He was still trying to get used to the thickness of the lowblood's erection when Sollux began to pull back. His muscles inadvertently clenched and the drag against his inner walls was both excruciatingly painful and intensely pleasurable. He felt the other troll shifting his weight, changing the angle and then pressing back inside. The thick bulge nudged his prostate once, twice, and then Sollux snapped his hips forward roughly.
"Fuck! Nnnnnngh! Fuck, Sol!"
Eridan was seeing stars, and it took him several seconds to realize that he wasn't the only one moaning. Thin fingers dug viciously into his hips, and Eridan's back bowed at the sharp flares of pain. Sollux began thrusting—slowly at first, then gaining speed. Each forward snap of his hips resulted in a firm hit against the sensitive gland, and Eridan found himself rocking his hips to meet each thrust. Fuck, despite the fleeting pain, it felt better than he ever could have imagined. Apparently Sollux was enjoying himself as well, judging by the heated moans. Eridan wished he could catch a glimpse of the other troll's face, but the only muscles that seemed capable of functioning were focused on driving his body back against the invading bulge.
It was quickly becoming too much for him. Somewhere in his sylladex he had a bucket, and if they kept going at this rate, he was going to need it soon. He doubted that Sollux was far off. He tried to say something, but the other troll gave a particularly hard thrust and all that came out was a string of garbled profanities. The slender fingers clutched his hips even tighter. Resting most of his weight on his left forearm, Eridan reached back, urgently grabbing Sollux's right hand in his own. The lowblood jerked his hand away as if he'd been burned, and Eridan slumped back to the ground, not sure why that action stung as much as it did.
"Fuck, Sol, sloww dowwn," he groaned. "I need a bucket."
The hand tentatively returned to his hip, but Sollux didn't slow down. If anything, he started rocking his hips faster and harder, and Eridan's vision went almost completely black.
"You don't detherve a bucket," Sollux snarled.
Eridan went completely still. He could practically feel the bottom of his stomach drop out even as his pulse raced at the raunchy idea. Sollux wouldn't dare.
"You can't fucking do that," he snapped, turning to glare over his shoulder at the other troll.
The heat behind those dichromatic eyes was almost scary. But looking directly at Sollux, there was nothing else intimidating about him. His delicate cheekbones were flushed a revolting yet strangely compelling yellow. His ragged breathing was evident in the rapid rise and fall of his thin chest beneath his shirt. His fingers only clenched around Eridan's hips more viciously as he continued his rhythmic thrusts, and if Eridan had to guess, the other troll was quickly approaching the brink. That realization in itself sent a fresh wave of heat between his legs.
Sollux responded to Eridan's declaration by picking up the pace, and suddenly Eridan was physically incapable of arguing. The lowblood was driving into him harder and harder, and he couldn't see, and he couldn't form coherent sentences, and his bulge was throbbing, and fucking hell, he was going to spill over without Sollux even touching his erection. The other troll was moaning. Oh god. He didn't stand a chance.
It was humiliating. Degrading. He should have been mortified about finishing without a bucket. But it was also strangely thrilling, so taboo, and it didn't really matter because there was no way he could stop at this point. Not with Sollux pounding into him and moaning like that—like he was trying to keep everything inside and was ashamed of every soft, urgent sound that slipped past his thin lips. Eridan could feel the pressure building. He spread his knees a little farther apart, allowing the lowblood deeper inside, and resumed rocking back, meeting the other troll's thrusts. Again shifting his weight to his left elbow, he snaked his right arm between his legs and wrapped a shaky hand around his neglected bulge. And he truly meant to take things slower, but if felt so unbelievably fucking good, he ended up hurriedly stroking it and caressing the sensitive fins and rubbing the swollen head with his thumb. It was suddenly impossible to tell who was moaning louder. Time seemed to slow down, and he could feel the exact second he was pushed over the edge. Every muscle in his body went rigid. He heard Sollux inhale sharply behind him as his inner walls spasmed and clenched around the invading length.
Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. It was so fucking good. And it hurt, in a weirdly pleasurable, exhausting, aching, you're-insane-for-doing-this-more-than-once-in-such-a-short-span-of-time sort of way. He slumped over and continued loosely pumping the thick shaft, trying to ignore the raunchy splatter of genetic material on the metal floor—audible even over the pounding of his own pulse in his head.
Behind him, Sollux gave a few more erratic thrusts before pressing in to the hilt. And then Eridan could feel it—hot, thick spurts of fluid filling him, spilling out of him, running in rivulets down the insides of his thighs. It was so fucking perverted and yet strangely intimate, and oh god, he was coming even harder. Moaning desperately, he ran the pad of his thumb gingerly over the slit, caressing the oversensitive flesh and interrupting the almost continuous flow of fluid. Oh fuck. Sollux was leaning over him, thin hands clutching at his waist for support and thrusting shallowly as he rode out his orgasm.
The stream of fluid was gradually subsiding, the waves of pleasure coming less and less frequently—leaving him feeling spent and hypersensitive. Sollux, however, wasn't finished. He continued weakly rocking his hips, constantly brushing against the overstimulated gland. Eridan arched away from the intrusion, but Sollux slumped forward and wrapped his arms firmly around Eridan's ribs, rubbing the fabric of his shirt uncomfortably against his gills. But the new angle was almost preferable—and Eridan had to admit, he sort of liked the closeness. The warmth was comforting, even through their layers of clothing. He could hear every ragged breath and every soft grunt and quiet moan that Sollux was trying to hold back.
It seemed to take forever for Sollux to finish. But once it was over, he didn't linger, pulling back almost immediately. Eridan tried not to flinch when the softening bulge slipped from his raw passage. Sollux pushed roughly against his hips and Eridan's legs gave out. He collapsed on the ground, on top of the sticky mess, unsure of whether or not Sollux had purposefully shoved him down into the puddle of cooling genetic material. He unintentionally curled in on himself, the muscles in his legs protesting the new position. His gaze settled on Sollux.
The lowblood looked as exhausted as Eridan felt, breathing heavily, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. His glasses were slightly askew, and there was a distinct lack of fire behind the stunning red and blue eyes. At least until he realized that Eridan was staring at him. He pushed his glasses back into position, his face taking on the familiar scowl that always seemed present when he was looking at the sea dweller. Eridan's pulse raced and he tried to quash the unwelcome surge of warmth in his chest. No. Not him.
His eyes followed the movements of those slender fingers as they tucked the soft bulge back in his pants and pulled up the zipper. Sollux scowled at him. "Thtop thtaring, it'th fucking creepy."
Eridan frowned, pushing himself into a sitting position and finally becoming aware of exactly how much genetic material had gotten on his clothing. When he glanced up, Sollux was on his feet and walking down the corridor, back to the transportalizer. It stung that the psionic never even looked back. The unsettling notion that the lowblood could be out of his league in terms of hate crept into the back of Eridan's mind, and he tried and failed to brush the thought aside.
He began the tedious search through his sylladex for clean clothing, wondering what he had gotten himself into.
Thanks for reading this far! Reviews / comments / suggestions are appreciated!