17 : Just After

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"Sting?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you remember to put on a condom?"

". . ."

". . ."

". . .um."

"Oh my God, you forgot, didn't you?"

Sting laughs nervously, choosing to bite into his sandwich with the force of a famished crocodile. There are bread crumbs and impressions of your last activity scattered all over the bed, some are squished under the weight of you and Sting's bodies, others cling to open patches of sheets.

Sting still doesn't answer you, even if his sandwich has long been consumed.

[a/n]: what could this mean ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° ) 

(( i'll post a better chapter soon i promise i love you guys ))

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