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Summary
"...If you want to impress me Aeon, you're going to have to do better than being a little shit. That doesn't work on me."
Aeon swallows. He's quiet for a moment—waiting to see if Dew really wants him to speak this time. Without instructions he's floundering. It's delicious. Dew wants to drown in this feeling, this power, the way Aeon crumples beneath him.
"What does?"
Dew tilts his head, considering. He clicks his tongue. Strokes his thumb along the sharp plane of Aeon's jaw. "Obedience."
Or: Aeon Fucks Dew's Boot.
