[ It's cool, cold against his tongue, but bound not to remain so. Not with the way his mouth opens and sinks down over the tip. The metaphor is so obvious you could damn near roll your eyes, but it doesn't matter. Nothing matters except this itch and the need to scratch it, and sucking the tip of his sworn enemy's pistol is for some bizarre and unhealthy reason totally doing it for him right now.
It helps that it's mutual. That he can feel the grip of that gloved hand and know that Washington is mired just as deep, wants just as badly. ]
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It helps that it's mutual. That he can feel the grip of that gloved hand and know that Washington is mired just as deep, wants just as badly. ]