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Summary
Or, sometimes the stars scratch at my door:
the long-promised companion piece to stars, hide your fires
Dick’s eyes kept snagging on the delicate bones of his wrists where one hand clutched a plastic fork and the other curled protectively around his food—as if the boy was afraid someone might take it away. As if he was afraid Dick might take it away.
Dick’s scowl intensified. Someone should have been taking care of the omega, should have been feeding him, fattening him up and fucking him and—
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Bookmarked by shykat
25 Mar 2026
