#tyftv

To Adam’s surprise, Lute never mentioned the issue again. He’d tried to bring it up the next morning to see how she was feeling about it, but Lute had insisted that she was over it.

Adam had a sneaking suspicion that she was just placating him so he wouldn’t worry, but he tried not to dwell on it. Lute seemed like the kind of person who would push him away if he tried to pry too much. That was the last thing he wanted—especially when he’d fought so hard to get close to her—so, he tried to keep his questions to a minimum.

Besides, there were more…important activities on their evening agenda for when they finished work. Who had time for questions about feelings and shit when there were so many other ways that he could put his mouth to good use?

That exact subject was what Adam found himself daydreaming about instead of paying attention to whoever was in the simulator at work. Neither he or Lute had gotten a whole lot of sleep the night before—thanks to certain oral skills that required practicing—and it was far too easy to lose himself in lewd memories of last night, instead of coaching the Exorcists through their training.

Stifling a yawn, Adam reached for his coffee—it had finally cooled to a palatable temperature, thank fuck—and chugged, praying that the caffeine would do its thing and wake him the hell up. He wondered if Lute was feeling just as tired.

Probably not, knowing her. Early that morning, she’d untangled herself from him at some obscene time to hit the gym, as she usually did. Adam had been half-asleep, but he remembered the fleeting kiss she’d brushed against his lips before she got out of bed, and how he’d protested incessantly against her leaving.

He wasn’t entirely sure when he’d turned into such a pussy-whipped sap, but what shocked him was how many fucks he gave about it.