It was easy to say these things under the cover of night, when Johnny couldn’t see his face. Easy to bare his neck and call himself Johnny’s baby, his boy, the fucked-up thing between them blooming into something so intense it made Johnny’s teeth itch. But here, in the heat and the daylight, with nowhere to hide, he closed up, turned tentative and shy.
lamb heart, put my hands around you
a little lawrusso fic set in my “wounded doe” verse & inspired by @nah–nottoday’s beautiful art of Daniel and Johnny.



















