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Summary
“I would say that I’m fucking him.” Eobard said the expletive with great relish, letting the vowels and consonants slowly roll off his tongue. He thought of pushing inside Barry, skin on sweat-slicked skin. The way Barry’s face contorted as if in anguish, eyes squeezed shut and mouth parted wide. The glimmer of green beneath his eyelashes, his head thrown back with the long line of his neck on offer when he came. “He really is fantastic. Couldn’t recommend it highly enough.”
“That’s disgusting.”
Eobard smiled at her; he had missed this. “He would say the same. Concerning the nature of our relationship, I mean.”