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not_thyne [userpic]
Chapter Three ~ Sanctus
by not_thyne (not_thyne)
at September 29th, 2006 (01:12 pm)
whereabouts: The chapel
feeling: still
today's soundtrack: Soft, rapid heartbeats in the hush of this warm, dark place

Continued from Chapter Two


He stands so close to me, his fingers press into my skin. I can feel every breath he takes as his chest rises and falls against mine. I lean down, let my lips brush against his. Slow, hot kisses with our eyes open.

"I have to be careful here, TJ. Careful what I say, careful to listen to what you say ... I want to play and I think you do too. But I don't play
nice and I don't play fair and I have to know that you are with me ... that you want what I want. That you need what I need. That you feel the same. I can go either way, take you out of your mind or let you have the power."

My wrists set on his shoulders, my fingers curl around the back of his neck. My thumbs scrape over the tender, softstiff hairs at the bottom of his beard and I lick my lips to find the taste of his mouth there.

"Or we can go in the office and have a drink. I can show you the hot tub that sits in a room all by itself in the dark and we can just fuck the rest of the day away and whisper prayers to each other by candlelight. Until one of us passes out. Or," I smile,

"faints."


The dimness of the room falls prey to a shaft of amber light swirled with ruby; sun filters through rippled glass panels stained with need and fused with lust. Our shadows fall with the ghosts of this place, the ghosts I can see in David’s eyes, the ghosts I can hear in the soft urgency of his voice.

Heat rises between us, energy swirls and blends with the dust and the ghosts and shimmers off our bare chests, expels itself in the warm, damp air carries our every kiss, the deep tastes between words spoken and not.

Every inch of my skin is tingling, but my center is perfectly still.

Press my palms flat against David’s chest; not quite pushing him away, just opening up enough space to let the heat building between us expand. Kiss him once, my tongue locked behind my teeth. Chaste.

Careful.

“Every word I’ve spoken to you since the moment we met has been the truth. You have no reason to trust me, but I’m asking you to.

“Can you trust me, David? Trust me to bring you someplace you haven’t been?”

Comments

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:06 pm (UTC)
half david

A shiver down my spine. Some part of my brain relaxes for the first time in so long, too long. Forfuckingever. Yes. It goes both ways, but if I am going to be honest ... this is what I need right now.

My blood pounds under the touch of his palms on my chest. Triphammer fast. My thumbs slide on the skin of his hips as my hands drop to my sides and I have to concentrate to take each breath.

Exhilaration. Desire. Tension and need and the more ... I've been looking for without even knowing it. The chapel is silent around us, hushed as if even the past is waiting for my answer.

"I can trust you, Terrence."

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:11 pm (UTC)


The electrical current that’s been rising between us like a lethal tide snaps and settles. Feel it beneath my hands, David’s skin hot against mine.

Reach up and thread my hand through his hair, cradle his skull in my palm. Whisper a kiss against his lips, and linger there to feel them swell and pulse against mine. Pull his lower lip between my teeth and suck it gently, tenderly. A promise made.

“I trust you, David.” I tell him. “Why don’t you show me where you keep things, okay?”

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:12 pm (UTC)

I can do that. Although I'm not sure what TJ is looking for, what he expects. But I have everything ...

I show him the shelves on the other side of the podium, take him into the office and open the box on the desk. Cuffs and collars, paddles and floggers. Thin canes hang from hooks on the walls. Bolts in the mantle of the fireplace and on the floor in front of it. Winter fun. Almost as entertaining as hockey.

Liquor in the cabinets, with heavy crystal tumblers. Joints in the desk drawers. Cock rings and nipple clamps and quills sharp enough to draw blood. Soft white ropes and silk scarves and rosary beads and a bible. A priest's collar and handcuffs. A cock cage and weights to dangle from balls and M&M's.

What? I get hungry, just like everyone else.

A journal and an old pack of cigarettes beside a Zippo that I'd wondered where I had left ...

My fingers dance over the edge of the desk when I'm done and I turn back to TJ. My skin tingling as if he is already touching me. My cock aching, swollen and hard and hot in my jeans. My vision already narrowing to see only his face.

Blood pounds past my eardrums like ocean waves crashing on the beach. A silent prayer in my mind and on my lips ... and I sink to my knees in front of him.

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:13 pm (UTC)

It’s quite the candy store, complete with M&Ms; something for every taste, every kink, every desire. So much stuff, and yet …

My heart stops as David falls to his knees, head bowed. Waiting for me to bless him. Heal him. Guide him. The suddenness of it shakes me, moves me and I have to fight to keep my expression neutral, my posture from yielding.

Reach down, cup his chin in my palm.

If he doesn’t know, he needs to be told.

If he doesn’t remember, he needs to be reminded.

“Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus…”

Holy, holy holy.

Let my touch bring him to his feet. Kiss the top of his hand.

“Wait for me by the altar, David.”

His face is already ruddy and glistening with sweat as he turns and obeys me without a word. It takes seconds for me to take what I need, slip it in my pocket, but I wait a few beats to let my breathing regulate and gain my composure before walking back to David. He stares at me, and I can see his wheels turning, naked curiosity and anticipation and imagination warring with one another, making my cock hard and my palms itch.

I lead David to the cross, turn his back to it.

“The real bondage is never with ropes or chains, is it? It’s always what ties us up on the inside. What keeps us. What holds us.”

Reach into my pocket, and uncap the tiny vial of anointing oil. Rose, Narcissus. Decadent, indulgent. Symbolic of pride.

Take his right hand, and let a drop of the anointing oil fall like a tear on the ridge of bone and nerve at the junction of his palm and fingers. Draw it across that dividing line, glistening and slick and raise his palm to my mouth.

“You don’t need silken bindings,” I whisper, kissing the valley in his hand where the lines of fate, life, and luck meet.

Take his left hand. Another bead falls, splashing at the crest of his palm, and I swipe it in an arc below his long, tempting fingers,

“You don’t need steel chains,” I tell him, letting my lips rest in a starburst of lines that will betray his artists’ calling to any palmist worth her salt.

“Lean back. Let your shoulders rest on the cross. Now raise your arms, and take your burden. Carry it like the thieves following Christ’s path to Calvary.”

David bends his knees and loops his arms behind the crossbar.

“Like this,” I tell him, and take his left hand and place it on the crosspiece. “Use your hands. Hold on to it.”

Expertly drilled into the chapel’s support joists, designed to hold the crucified no matter their size or height, this cross is not meant to be lifted, or carried. Feet splayed, knees bent and aligned with his shoulders, David readjusts to get a handhold on the polished slat.

“When we met last night, I decided to answer any question you’d ask honestly, no matter what. I don’t understand why. Maybe because it’s easier than inventing lies or trying to keep track of half-truths. I don’t know. I just … saw you standing there and it was what I needed to do. Wanted to do.

“I told you that I was leaving today, and that was my intention. But sometime … I don’t know when it was, exactly. But sometime between being your canvas and stealing a cookie, I realized I couldn’t make that decision alone.

“I need your help, David.

“I don’t handle being banished well. That’s why I’m always the one to leave, always a step ahead of the rejection, the decision. I would rather have control of myself, of my life, even if it means walking away with nothing. At least I know it was my decision.

“But this is different. For the first time in my life I can’t choose. I don’t know what’s right. And I need you to help me.

“Here’s how it works. You hold on to that cross brace, just like you’re holding it now. All five fingers on each hand, holding on. At any time you want, you can let go. It’s entirely up to you.

“No ropes. No chains. Nothing to keep you holding on but will.

“If you let go – when we’re finished here I’ll walk out of this chapel, get my gear and be on my way.

“If either of your hands slips off the bar, I leave this place. Same for your fingers. Lift them from the wood and you’ve helped me make my decision. No negotiation, no turning back. No regrets, baby, because if that’s the way it plays, it’s the way it was meant to be.

“Do you understand?”

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:15 pm (UTC)

I've never stood against the cross with any sort of clothes on. I've never stood here with out ties or fetters or leather or metal. I've never been asked to help anyone decide anything more complicated than what to have for dinner or whether to smoke a joint or drop acid or the white pill or the red. Never ... at any time.

I can smell the oil on my wrists and palms. Still feel the heat of his lips there. The wood is hard and unyielding behind me. It never gives. Not an inch, not a heartbeat. No second chances and there are no discussions or bargains to be made. I can see the hooks that I installed myself and I have nothing to pull against. Nothing to fight. Nothing to hold onto, nothing but the cross itself and the passion in his eyes.

"I understand."

I whisper. Letting all the questions go out of my mind. They'll either be answered or they won't. This is his time and I am, for now, here, for as long as he wants to play this out ... I am his.

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:16 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:18 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:18 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:20 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:20 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:21 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:21 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:23 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:23 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:24 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:25 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:26 pm (UTC)

I can't remember what it's like to not feel this burn and ache in my shoulders, across my back. The cross distracts my mind, the rosary only makes my cock harder and I spread my thighs when TJ touches me there. When his fingers drift over my balls. Teasing glances and a small smile as he moves away again.

No kisses.

"Don't we all want that? I'm heir to nothing, but I want more than what I've had. I want someone that wants every part of me, the dark and the light. I want a desire that encompasses them both. The ability to sit and read in front of a fireplace, to paint and draw and fucking cut my initials into my lover's back when the mood shifts. Or be left on a cross and asked nearly impossible questions."

I move and the crucifix moves with me. Rub and tug and pull. Sweat drops in my eyes and I blink against the sting.

"When was the last time you were really in love, TJ? And didn't you feel as if you possessed that person? Weren't you just a little bit obsessed? And is that such a bad thing?"

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:26 pm (UTC)

Fold myself to the floor, sit at David’s feet. Trace the sinews that are strung tight with his effort to stay in the uncomfortable position he’s in, press my thumb along the curve of his arch and feel him shudder, hard.

“There are dreams that are worse to give up than any great love, David. You know that. Didn’t you want to die when you couldn’t play anymore? Didn’t you want to surrender? How long did it take you to find out who you were once that was ripped from your life? Did you ever, really? Have you come close?

“All I wanted was to paint. To draw. To bring life to the page and to canvas and I fought and goddamn near died for it. Obsession? You have no idea.

“And when I gave in to the reality that I couldn’t, after I gave up, there was nothing. Nothing left of me. Realized there never really had been. So I did what I always do – I kept walking.”

Bracing my hand on the back of his heel, I pull David’s foot up off the ground, rest it in the curve of my bent knee. Trace my fingernail over the soft, sensitive flesh on the inside of his ankle, bend and kiss there, nip and nuzzle and breathe. Feel the tension in his leg hardening his calf.

“The last time I was truly in love I lived with a man who loved pretty boys and parties and designer drugs more than me. Yeah, he’d come home and bring a boyfriend or some pretty toys, all in the name of our righteous love, but in the end – no matter how I tried to hold on to him, he preferred the scene to me. He didn’t fall in love with anyone else, but then I don’t think he ever really loved me. Loved himself, mostly.

“He broke me. But love does that. It wasn’t the first time, it won’t be the last.

“I know all about the obsession, David. The need to know with all the certainty in your heart that someone wants you and only you at the end of the day, the need to know that no matter who else you fuck or they fuck, it’s just bodies in motion? I know.

“And that’s why by the time I saw you in the kitchen I didn’t trust this place.”

Lean down, kiss the top of his foot, slide my ass a few inches to the cross and let the weight of his foot rest on my cock, let the breath rush from my chest. Laugh at the look on David's face, and there's no sense holding back.

“But I trust you.”

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:34 pm (UTC)

"I did die when I knew I couldn't play anymore."

I roll the ball of my foot over the hard press of his cock slowly.

...I trust you ... He said. And I have to believe him.

"I spent two weeks vomiting up everything I tried to eat. I refused to speak. I wouldn't see my family or my friends and I drove away the first man that had ever told me that he loved me and meant it. I pushed him away. I gave him away. All because I couldn't be who I thought I was ..."

I use my toes to pull and twist the waistband of TJ's sweats. Finally catching it and bringing it down, just enough that I can touch his cock with my foot. Slow, gently rubs. Not nearly as good as I could do with my fingers, even now, numb as they are. Not even close to what I could do with my mouth. But I think he knows that.

"I know the difference between making love and fucking. It's profound. And I feel sorry for people who don't. For men who say that they make love to everyone ... because that is fucking bullshit. And there is nothing wrong with being obsessed with the person you love. Hell, I think it's part of the prerequisite to be in love, don't you?"

My toes skip over his skin. Touch and rub and touch again. I'll never get enough of this ... never. I'll be groping the orderlies in whatever nursing home I end up inside of when I'm finally broken forever.

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:35 pm (UTC)

Ease into the response of flesh on flesh, that instinct that neither of us can control at the moment. My breath hitches as he curls his toes over the head of my cock, and I glance up to see him, eyes closed and smiling. Beatific and twisted and shining with exertion …

This isn’t just another game.

Hit that thought with blunt force and push back into my subconscious where it belongs. That notion, that idea is a product of too little sleep, not enough food, and David, praying to be broken at my hands.

Break the contact between our bodies, push myself up from the floor to see David’s eyes snap open and the pleasure drain from his face. Step close enough to feel the heat and sweat wicking from his skin, and don’t allow our bodies to touch. Let the energy build and cycle and sizzle between us.

“Infinity stretches in both directions,” I whisper. “Our capacity to love, to change, to re-create ourselves is infinite. At least … that’s what we hope. That’s what we dream. That we can recover. That we can trust ourselves and each other when there’s no earthly reason why we should. When we’ve proven that we are just shells made to be shattered and ground to dust but somehow we find a reason …”

Skim my fingertips over the narrow course of fine curls just above his cock, hear him gasp as though I’ve run him through with a blade.

“Maybe it’s bitterness, or the fuel of our own self-hatred. Maybe we just refuse to give in to piss the world off.”

Trace a pattern through the rivulets of sweat running from his belly to his groin, and feel his muscles contract hard, vibrating beneath my touch.

“If you feel you deserve everything, you need to give it. Not when you realize it’s time to fight. I think we both know that’s a little too late, yes?”

I don’t raise my eyes to his. I don’t need to. Concentrate on the moisture beneath my fingers and the jumping of nerve endings desperate for more.

“If you deserve everything, give it right out of the gate. Want it enough to demand it from yourself. Doesn’t matter if you think you can’t. Want it enough to trust. Because all of these lovely instruments, all of these delicious torture toys mean nothing, David. Nothing. Because in the end … “

in the end there is one dance you’ll do alone

Look into eyes glazed with exhaustion and desire, endless and dark and so open. . .

Reach between us, run my thumbnail over the head of his cock and press. Grip him hard in my fist, let sweat and traces of rose and narcissus oil ease the friction slightly, let the feel of him startle my senses. Bite down hard on my own need, use my breath to control the spiral of pure want curling up from my core. Move that energy through me, through my touch.

Tighten the grip until his eyes roll back into his head, until teeth clamp hard into his swollen lower lip. Until the sound of his moan grows loud enough to be heard beyond rock and marble and stained glass.

“Tell me what you want, David.”

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:36 pm (UTC)

"I want peace on earth. Basic rights for every person that aren't based on their sexuality. I want to paint something that will hang in the Louvre and I want a show in New York City. I want to be able to trust my knee again to do more than jog through the woods. I want to play in the Super Bowl and I want your mouth on my goddamn cock."

Cramps now. Sparking red and orange down my back and between my shoulders and along my arms to my wrists. Sweat runs down my face as I watch his fingers move on my cock. His grip so tight that my teeth have cut through my lip and I suck the taste of my own blood back into my throat. The candles flicker around us, dancing with little drifts of air I can't feel and I slam my head back into the wood of the cross just to find a different pain for a moment.

I won't drop my arms and he won't give me an inch without complete honesty. I can almost see the battle of wills between us. It makes me smile, despite the burn and ache and the way I can't control my hips and thighs. The way I push into his fist for more.

"I want someone I can trust. No matter what. Someone who can fuck around all he wants, but only loves me. I want someone who enjoys the scene, but at the end of the day, he is the scene for me. I want a person that can give me back all the crap I dish out. Seduce me with words, bruise me with his touch. Fight with me and fuck with me and love me ... someone that knows the difference."

His hand moves again and I'm groaning. Low and deep. Balls crawling up and the beads shift at the base of my cock. Adrenaline and endorphins and chemicals I don't know the name of spill into my mind and the groan turns into a growl before I can quiet it.

"I want a friend that can see past the headgames I play because I don't know any other way and still fucking like me. Still want me. And I want more of this and you, right fucking now."

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:37 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:38 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:38 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:39 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:40 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:40 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:41 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:51 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:52 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:52 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:53 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 07:54 pm (UTC)
half david

I put my head back on the cross and breathe. Even the rise and fall of my ribs hurts as everything I am goes into keeping my arms where they are and I have to find words ... my fingers numb against the wood. My hips shift and the cross moves and my cock twitches when I let the pictures fill my mind of all the times I stand alone and what do I do to make myself come when all I have is my own hand?

When I open my eyes again, I focus on TJ's face. Air hisses between my teeth and I stretch one side of my neck to work out a cramp that bunches the muscles into a knot that will be as sore as a bruise for three days after this.

"My hand slides down my chest ..."

Night after night after day after day of sitting in my room alone. Drawing until my fingers hurt, smoking until my throat was raw. Drinking until there was nothing but blind passion in my mind and no one to share it with.

TJ's hand moves from his neck to his abdomen and that makes me smile. Despite everything. It makes me smile. It could be mine. It should be mine.

"I don't always use lube, but sometimes, yeah. I find some oil or some lotion and pour it in my palm and I'm already hard just thinking of coming and how it will feel and how I want to stay there for as long as I can ..."

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 08:05 pm (UTC)
tj right

...and I am, rock hard and aching and needing him more that I can understand.

Find my legs, somehow, and cross the floor to the communion table. pour sanctified anointing oil in my palm, swallow hard and stop in front of the cross. Wait, with only arm's length between us and look into his eyes.

Nod my assent.

"Don't stop."

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 08:12 pm (UTC)

"I lean back against the wall of my shower or the door of my bedroom or spread my legs in the center of my bed or there, against the Communion table with my eyes on the cross and I wrap my hand around my cock."

Fingers touching me, ghosts and memories and jesus it feels like forever since I've been kissed or stroked or fucked or loved. My hips roll forward with the sensation of a dream. My hands move on the slick wood as if I'm jerking off God.

"I start with slow, deliberate strokes that come up from the root to the head. My thumb rubbing through the slit and down underneath just over that spot that makes us all jump and moan."

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 08:14 pm (UTC)
tj right


I stand in the spot where I know David has stood countless times, days and nights, dreaming of god only knows who, remembering, longing. . .

And I listen, let his voice move my hand where I want his to be, inhale a rush of dry air that closes my throat with particles of sandalwood and polish and dust.

Dry and familiar and I know it now, recognize the memory of mutual attraction cooled to ashes, passion drained of its juice after too many arguments, or not enough.

Joy drained of its light because there's someone else . . .someone newer, different, better . . . some other bright shiny thing or personality or quirk or kink . . .

Memories sear me whirl through me, lifting eddies of rage and hurt and heartbreak on a sudden change of the tide.

I pull hard without waiting for David to speak again, twist and yank and suck in a hard, razor-sharp gasp. . . and hear his voice. Hear the sound of my name and hold my breath.

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 08:14 pm (UTC)

"Back and forth and back again and then down, between my legs just as my shoulders start to feel that tension. Pull and tug at my balls, tips of my fingers skating behind. Slick with lotion or oil or precome. Gotta spread my legs a bit more. Feel that space between balls and ass. That skin that is so soft and sensitive. Just the length of the first joint of your finger, but when you press up into that hard knot inside ... fireworks, Terrence, fucking fireworks ..."

I lick my lips, my back arching and bowing in rhythm with my voice. Take a ragged breath and feel the pounding of my heart, the ache of my cock.

"And then back up to pull and twist, a little faster this time. Just enough to make myself gasp, maybe groan. Maybe think of the last time someone's knees were between mine. Someone's hands on my shoulders. Someone's tongue in my mouth. Someone telling me with whispers and growls and whines that they need me, that they want me, that they have to have me ..."

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 08:15 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 08:15 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 08:17 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 08:17 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 08:18 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 08:19 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 08:20 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 08:21 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 08:22 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 08:23 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 08:23 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 08:38 pm (UTC)

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