Fics like playing a blind hand

The cigar drops to the floor, snuffed out by the cold wet air and light breeze. Tinky Winky's hands wrap hard around Wesma's throat, and he slams the detective hard against the brick wall. The air chokes from Wesma's lungs and stutters up his throat, a pathetic nose leaving his mouth. Cold brick digs into his back, through the light fabric of his tank top, and he can't help the way his head lolls back just slightly. Tinky stares him right in the eyes, that cold, angry glare is back. Brows furrowed, sweat dripping down his forehead. Tighter, tighter he squeezes. Wesma shivers at the chill that sets over his skin, blood draining from his face. A hardness grows between his legs, a burning hotness that contrasts the cold. It pressed against the tightness of his jeans—a shiver rolling through him. Black spots flutter across his vision, and for a moment he thinks Tinky won't let go at all. // or tinky winky and detective wesma kofi had way too much sexual tension in the poker video and i made them fuck about it

Fics like playing a blind hand

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