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Do Unto Others

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Dan shut the door behind him, taking off his boots slowly and rolling his ankles around. He was a well built man, not tall, though people constantly told him he “seemed” taller than he was. Broad in chest and shoulder, thick muscled legs he thanked his scottish ancestry for when he had to carry heavy shit… or impress ladies. At 38, he still got carded when he went to the bar, if he’d had enough sleep, though anyone who looked close could see the crow’s feet laugh-lines of a man who’d enjoyed his life. Linda liked those lines.


He put his blouse (something Linda’s boys laughed about constantly, and loudly, even if it was just a jacket) on a hook, and took a deep breath. He was not looking forward to this. Given the strew of shoes, bag, jacket, hats, shirt, socks, heading into the living room, Clint was already here. Well, no point in putting it off. He walked into the living room and sat down on the couch heavily, “We need to talk.” He rubbed a hand over his five-o’clock shadow before running it over his short cropped head. “About your mother. About… us.” The confident, muscular man was uncharacteristically hesitant speaking to this shirtless, cavalier 18 year old jock.

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