[Not having to be told twice, Eames picked it up and headed into the kitchen, poking his head into the doorway to see what Heine was doing. He knew enough Braille to get by, but perhaps his brain was short circuiting at the promise held in his hand, the thought of Heine bending him over and fucking him rough and raw while he was wearing it.]
Here.
[He nudged Heine's left shoulder with it, leaning his hip against the counter as he watched Heine make sandwiches.]
; )
Here.
[He nudged Heine's left shoulder with it, leaning his hip against the counter as he watched Heine make sandwiches.]
This for you or me?