[attr="class","damien-words"]




Frank Caffey didn't promise with words, but DAMIEN RUSSO wasn't smart enough to figure that out. [break][break]

Well, maybe it wasn't smarts that he lacked. He was just so goddamn enamored that he'd always taken the best parts of Frank at face value. The asshole was just so good at drawing on the pieces of Damien that were the most vulnerable.[break][break]

Like his heart. And his dick.[break][break]

Fucking Frank. He always knew how to get what he wanted in the end.[break][break]

So he promised with his body and Damien took that commitment as gospel. Swayed with him like parishioners singing a Sunday hymn, touched him with a reverent hand, worshiped him like the God he'd made himself to be in Damien's mind. [break][break]

Until they tumbled back together again, sweaty and satisfied. [break][break]

Until he whispered I love you — marking the end to their communion. [break][break]

Those three words made Damien's chest tighten. Caused him to squeeze his arms around Frank a little harder. But he didn't say them back.[break][break]

"Yeah, yeah." Damien breathed out instead, exhausted all over again. How many times had they fucked now? He'd lost count by this point. "Now get off me, ya big softie."[break][break]

His words weren't backed up by any physical gesture, though. He just laid there, his body barely peeking out beneath Frank's bulk. That was, until, Damien's phone vibrated loudly on the nightstand. [break][break]

Stretching as far as his arm would allow, he was just able to coax the device into his palm with the tips of his fingers. As soon as he read the text on the screen, however, he wished he'd just ignored it and remained in Frank's arms.[break][break]

"Shit."

[attr="class","damien-notes"]