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Title: Biting Your Own Neck 2/2
Pairing/Characters: Reese/Fusco
Rating: R
Summary: "His phone buzzes to life for a moment on the bar in front of him, and somehow, before he even glances at the screen, he already knows who it is."
Warnings: D/s, collaring
Word Count: 2,334

His phone buzzes to life for a moment on the bar in front of him, and somehow, before he even glances at the screen, he already knows who it is. This flood of relief and anger washes over him as he reads the text.

It’s pretty straightforward. Hotel. Address. Room number. Now.

He knows the hotel; it’s a pretty nice place, compared to the hotels he generally gets called to on business. Rooms don’t rent by the hour, anyway. Yeah, he knows it. It’s only a few blocks away from here. He’s a little unsteady on his feet right now, but he could make it there easy. He could come running when Reese calls him like the little bitch he is.

He shuts off his phone with heavy, drunken fingers, orders himself a shot of whiskey because at this stage he needs it. The whiskey burns in his throat, his stomach, can’t seem to burn out the part of his brain that wants to stop by the hotel and at least find out what he wants. He white-knuckles the bar, stays put. He won’t give Reese the satisfaction.

It’s an hour later when a viselike grip closes on the back of his neck and he realizes that Reese is probably harder to brush off than that.

“Tell me, Lionel,” he mutters silkily in his ear, “do you ever get tired of drinking alone?”

“Best company there is.” Fusco takes a moment to drain his glass before turning to face him. Reese stands there in a fresh suit, not a hair out of place. As always, he looks too smooth and put-together to exist on the same planet as Fusco, but tonight his eyes are troubled and his fingers bruise the back of Fusco’s neck. “Why? You wanna be drinking buddies or something?”

For a second, he thinks Reese is going to hit him. He’s not sure why, but it’s there in the way he stands, the way Reese scowls at him. “Get up,” he says, voice flat as ever but Fusco knows it’s time to shut up and listen. “I’ll pay your tab. We’re leaving.” Fusco stands up from his seat. He’s not falling-down drunk, but the world is a little bit cloying and unsteady and he’s barely shrugged his way into his jacket before Reese is on him again, one hand locked on the crook of his arm, one hand seizing the collar of his shirt, and he hauls him out of there.

“What’s wrong with you?” Fusco asks, as he’s dragged out the door. Cold night air hits him like a shock and he wonders how long he’s been in that bar.

His grip tightens.  “When I call you, you come. Is that understood?”

“Yeah, yeah,” but it isn’t, not really. “Where the hell were you for two months?”

Reese doesn’t seem to hear him. “You had your reprieve, but you still work for me, Lionel. Don’t forget that.” He drags him to a stop, pulls the shirt back away from his neck. “Not even wearing that gift I got you.”

Fusco tries to shake his arm loose, but Reese grabs him harder, pulls him along until Fusco says, “No, no, I mean…” and he reaches across his own body, right hand into left jacket pocket, and pulls out the collar, rolled up in a tight knot of leather, secured with a rubber band.

Reese gives him a very long look, and the smooth mask slips, but doesn’t break. “Come on,” he says softly. His grip on Fusco’s arm lightens up, and it’s more like he’s leading him now.

They walk the next several blocks to the hotel in almost total silence. Once, Fusco asks, “You gonna kill me?”

“No, Lionel,” he says. “Of course not.” But the pause before he says it is long enough to make Fusco wonder.

So he lets himself be hauled through the hotel lobby, into the elevator, and they’re getting looks from people, sidelong looks, because they look weird, this whole situation is weird, and Fusco looks up at Reese and his face is inscrutable and he’s still not totally sure that he isn’t about to be killed.

Reese stops at the room from the text, swipes the key card, light goes green, and he shoves Fusco through the door, slamming it behind them. Fusco staggers, steadies himself, takes a look around. It’s an ordinary hotel room, two single beds with suspect sheets, separated by a lonesome nightstand. No assassins hiding behind the lamp, no plastic tarps laid out to catch the blood. Still, he doesn’t feel safe; he says “Are you gonna tell me what’s going on or what?”

Reese sighs wearily. He tugs at the cuffs of his jacket like he’s uncomfortable in his own skin. “Sit down.” He gestures to the foot of one of the beds, and Fusco obliges. He begins to pace back and forth in front of him, not looking Fusco in the eye, just taking odd, furtive glances at him. He says, “Lionel, I don’t know what to do with you.”

He’s not sure what to say to that.

“Take off your coat,” Reese says, and Fusco begins to shrug it off, cautious, eyes on Reese’s face. “It’s like you don’t know how to take care of yourself. I leave you to your own devices for a few weeks and you fall to pieces.” He proffers one hand and Fusco throws him the coat. Reese digs in the pockets until he comes up with the collar, and unceremoniously tosses the coat in a corner. “Tie. Off. Now.”

Lionel fumbles with the knot. His hands are shaking, useless. Reese sighs, kneels in front of him, and undoes the knot himself. He seems like he’d be content to carry on, but Fusco knocks his hands away. He yanks off the tie himself, crumples it in his hand, and throws it to the floor. “I don’t know what you think you’re talking about,” he says. “I’ve been doing fine since you left.”

“You’re drunk every night, you’re ignoring your ex, and you haven’t gotten half as many arrests lately,” he says, that thin, dry humor running all through his voice. “Half as many arrests isn’t fine, Lionel.”

He doesn’t even question how Reese knows the things he knows anymore. It’s just one more way his life has ceased to be his own. “Yeah, ‘cause you aren’t there to hand ‘em to me. Go figure. I’ve been doing things the old fashioned way.” He’s a little bit taller than Reese this way, sitting on the bed with Reese on his knees in front of him, and he takes the opportunity to scowl down at him for once. “I do OK. I don’t need you around to be a good cop.”

Reese’s eyes are dark and impenetrable as he unbuttons the top two buttons of Fusco’s shirt, leans in impossibly close. “I know,” he says, breath flicking hot against Fusco’s ear, “I know you don’t.” He sits back on his heels, looks him in the eye for the first time since he stopped him on the sidewalk. Reese is like this smoothed out, buttoned-down wall, and Fusco doesn’t know what he’s thinking, just knows that the wheels in his head are turning, doesn’t know if that’s good or bad, doesn’t know why he suddenly feels so short of breath, so lightheaded.

Reese picks up the collar. “You know,” he says, thoughtfully, “I could force this on you. Threaten you, hurt you, there are options. I don’t want to do that. Not just because I don’t want to hurt you, although I don’t, but because I don’t think it would work. Because you, Lionel,” and here he pokes Fusco hard in the chest, “are so stubborn. But I think if I just asked…I think you’d do it. Am I right?”

Fusco’s breaths are long and shuddering. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. Reese’s hand is on his thigh and he doesn’t know and his eyes are drawn to the dark, shadowy hollow of Reese’s throat because he’s scared to look him in the eye and he doesn’t know.

“Lionel,” Reese says. “Put it on.”

He thought his hands would shake, but they don’t, they move with this practiced, robotic smoothness as he brings the thick collar up around his own throat. It’s warm from Reese’s hands, soft from use, and it fits him like it’s a part of his body, some extra limb, long forgotten but no less vital. As he slides leather through the buckle, pulls it tight, he sees a glimmer of fear and wonder in Reese’s face and for the first time, Fusco understands.

Then Reese’s hands are on his and he’s standing up, pulling the buckle apart, and Reese says to him, “No, no, don’t pull so tight, you’ll take the skin off your neck like that.” He adjusts the collar, pulls it back a notch. His fingers slide between the collar and his throat, checking the space, worrying softly at the rawness he finds there. “There. I don’t know why you do this to yourself.”

Fusco thinks he does know, and that’s what worries him.

“Do…” Reese swallows. His hand tightens on the collar. He seems to be struggling for words. He finds them, finally, but he seems disappointed in them as he speaks. “Lionel, do you like it when I tell you what to do?”

Fusco closes his eyes, breathes deep. He knows the answer, but he doesn’t want to give it, even when he knows Reese is looking so tentative and unsure, doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction even now. He says, “Go fuck yourself.”

Reese tackles him to the mattress.

 It’s a brief, violent struggle, elbows and knees, vicious clawing and swift, rabbit punches, but it’s Reese against Fusco so it’s over pretty quick. Reese has him pinned back in seconds, fingers clenched in the collar, pulling down, down, but not hard enough to choke. “Stay down,” he snarls.

“Yes,” he sighs, a hiss of escaping air, thin and vulnerable.

“You stay down,” Reese says against his ear. He feels hot breath, soft mouth, faint scrapings of teeth.

“Yes.” So weary, now.

 Reese’s fingers move to fumble open his belt, thigh slides deliberately between his legs. “Good boy,” he sighs. The vague mouthing and biting on his neck becomes a kiss.

Fusco twitches away. “Fuck off,” he growls. He manages to throw one good punch at Reese’s ribs before Reese flips him onto his stomach, arm wrenched behind his back, collar gripped tight.

“Lionel,” he pants, and Fusco is pretty fucking gratified to hear him breathing hard for once, “do you have to make this difficult?”

“Mmhm,” is all he can manage, with his face pressed to the mattress. Reese lets up on him a little and he raises his head.

“And you do,” he takes a jagged, heavy breath, “you do trust me, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Fusco props himself up on his free arm, half turns. Reese is staring at him hard, mixed amusement and worry. “Yeah, I trust you. Just don’t make a big deal out of it, OK?”

Reese grins like a psycho and knocks Fusco’s skull into the headboard. They’re OK.

Reese goes slow. That’s the worst of it, really. It’d be all too easy to keep his dignity, hang on to something worth bitching about if Reese was selfish or rough or violent or cruel. Instead he’s halfway gentle: tender, attentive, and torturously goddamn slow. Fusco could be struggling, biting, sniping, giving as good as he gets, but instead he’s curled up, clawing the sheets, biting back quiet, empty sounds.

And Reese, the bastard, knows it. He leans forward, whispers in Fusco’s ear, “You are never going to miss another one of my calls again.” God, it’s like he can hear the smug.

“Get in line, jackass,” he snarls between harsh, angry gasps. “You’re not the only guy in New York wants to fuck me over.” Reese pushes forward, and a whine escapes Fusco’s throat and he decides maybe he shouldn’t try to talk right now.  Reese’s arms slide tight around his middle and the pace quickens.

“You don’t hate this,” he says. His tone is warm, cajoling, pleading. The buttons on Reese’s shirt are biting into the skin of his back, but one hand slides between his legs, teasing, begging. Forgive me. Forgive me. Reese pulls him back and back and back and heat pools in Fusco’s belly and the muscles in his legs start to twitch.

“No,” he grunts, and then a low, shuddering groan and he falls forward, breathing hard. Can’t think. Can’t fight. Can’t lie. “I don’t hate this,” he sighs.

Reese finishes quickly, quietly, rolls off to the side but pulls Fusco along with him, still clutching him tight. “Good boy,” he whispers, one hand meandering vaguely over Fusco’s chest and stomach. “Good boy.”

Fusco aims a savage punch at his arm. “Stop talking about me like I’m a goddamn dog or I’ll wreck you,” he says. The vitriol has gone out of his voice. He’s too damn tired to be pissed off.

“You couldn’t wreck me if you tried,” Reese says. He sounds tolerant, fond. There’s a laugh behind his voice.

Fusco shrugs. “Even so.”

Reese releases him, and Fusco tries to make some space between them, but Reese grabs him by the collar again. He struggles, and Reese mutters, “Hold still. Just let me take it off you.” His fingers go to work on the buckle, sluggish and fumbling. “Don’t want you choking in your sleep.”

It comes off easy, and Reese tosses it carelessly onto the nightstand. His hands are on Fusco’s neck again in a moment, touching flesh rubbed raw with a kind of reverence.

“I’ve worn it to sleep before,” he admits. There’s so little shame left in him now.

An unexpected smile flashes across Reese’s face, just for a moment, like a freak lightning storm.  It fades just as suddenly.


( 35 comments — Leave a comment )
Mar. 11th, 2012 04:25 am (UTC)
Oh, mah, gawd. This was sooooo hot. I just- No words to express how well written this was. <3 I'm not afraid to say I ship this now, and this will be in my head every time I see Fusco. The emotions work so well, *grins like a maniac* I just loved it. Deserves more comments than it has. :)
Mar. 11th, 2012 04:07 pm (UTC)
Thank you! I'm really glad you liked it.
Mar. 11th, 2012 04:26 am (UTC)
Oh wow, this is amazing and I think I love you *_*

I've been a big Fusco fan since early on, so when I saw Reese/Fusco I just HAD to click (even though I'm at my parents' house, ha!). Totally worth it. I love that Reese's motives in this are so mysterious, it's nothing I would have imagined for him but it feels spot on. But of course Fusco's the star, and he's got a great Fusco voice in this, the poor man, how he's so used to being owned but it takes on a different meaning when it's Reese. It's totally not the show's territory but it fits so beautifully, and I'm not even usually into D/s, but my favorite parts were Reese putting the collar on. It's just...perfect. Guh. And also:

“Yeah, I trust you. Just don’t make a big deal out of it, OK?”

Reese grins like a psycho and knocks Fusco’s skull into the headboard. They’re OK.

Favorite line <3

Did you pull the title from Mumford and Sons btw? +100

Anyway I don't mean to gush all over you but mad props to your talent. I hope you plan on sticking around in this fandom <3
Mar. 11th, 2012 04:31 pm (UTC)
*flails* I know you! You're on tumblr! Your intense scruti\y of Finch's wardrobe is really amusing! Hi!

Yeah, I've been a fan since around Fusco tried to get Reese killed, because apparently that's what it takes to endear me to a character. He's absurdly fun to write, too.

And, yeah, the title is pulled from Little Lion Man. I'm really, really bad about titles, so I usually end up slapping some song lyrics up there and calling it a night. In this case, it was really really easy, because my beta made me a fanmix for the fic to encourage me to work faster.

Don't be sorry about gushing! I thrive on it. Thanks for your kind words and glad you liked!
Mar. 11th, 2012 05:09 pm (UTC)
Woo, tumblperson! What's your tumblr if you don't mind me asking?

I love Little Lion Man, I think I have three different versions saved on my mp3 player already. Would you consider sharing your fanmix? I'm really interested to know what else is on it ;)
Mar. 11th, 2012 05:32 pm (UTC)
My tumblr is also livenudebigfoot. I'm trying to create a cohesive fandom identity for the first time in...ever.

Little Lion Man is one of my most played songs on iTunes ever, which is impressive since it's sharing space with stuff that I've had since I was in high school. LOVE IT.

Songs on the mix (in no particular order) include:

Guns and Horses, by Ellie Goulding
Hybrid, by Elsiane
Bloodstream, by Stateless
A Wolf At The Door (It Girl. Rag Doll), by Radiohead
Little Lion Man, by Mumford & Sons
If I Had A Heart, by Fever Ray (I figured the show was basically requesting it)
Spun Sugar, by Beth Waters
Glycerine, by Bush
Dickhead, by Kate Nash
I Wanna Be Your Dog, by The Stooges

Honorary songs that neither I nor my beta had mp3s of include:

Salt Skin, by Ellie Goulding
Dogboy vs. Monsters, by Flipiron

I've never actually posted a fanmix before, so I don't have the relevant accounts with filehosting sites set up to make it happen just now, but I'll probably post it for realsies at some point.
Mar. 11th, 2012 07:03 pm (UTC)
Oh hey, Guns and Horses is totally on my own PoI fanmix. I've got Salt Skin if you want it. Totally going to look up the rest, thanks for the recs!
Mar. 31st, 2012 07:32 pm (UTC)
(and then a million years later, I replied)

Given that Guns and Horses has been independently selected as a POI song by you, me, AND my beta, I figure it's just meant to be.

And I would LOVE Salt Skin, if that offer's still open.
Mar. 31st, 2012 07:45 pm (UTC)
Mar. 31st, 2012 11:20 pm (UTC)
yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay thank you!
(Deleted comment)
Mar. 11th, 2012 04:53 pm (UTC)
Thank you! :D

ngl, I definitely wrote this because I wanted Reese/Fusco like burning and there kept not being any. And it made me sad, because clearly there should be. Here's hoping this breaks the ice.

Glad you liked!
Mar. 11th, 2012 05:36 am (UTC)
This fandom has been waiting for this kink to hit. >:D

Really, really well done. I wouldn't consider myself to 'ship him and Reese but this story was.... damn hot, and made me nod along with it. Note perfect. Hell yes.
Mar. 11th, 2012 05:20 pm (UTC)
This fandom has been waiting for this kink to hit. >:D

I have been waiting for this kink to hit. Eventually I lost patience, as you can see.

Thanks so much! I'm really glad you liked it!
Mar. 11th, 2012 06:19 am (UTC)
OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG, this is amazing on, like, 9000 levels. adjasl;fkjklfjdakldfjlak;fjdsklfj;dkfj

Just. Like. Holy shit. I love how fraught this is. It's amazingly dead-on Fusco. All the exchanges between him and Reese are perfect. I love that this is, like, a side tilt of what we're given on the show, about their relationship. Every other line, I'm just like YES. THAT. YES. PERFECT.

Mar. 11th, 2012 05:50 pm (UTC)

Something about keyboard mashing. Warms the soul, man.

Thank you so much! I'm really happy you enjoyed it.
Mar. 11th, 2012 07:20 am (UTC)
I really didn't want to read this at first, because I'm a Reese/Finch OTP girl through and through. But I'm so glad I did. This was so very well written, and great. I hope you write more fan fic for this show. Maybe even some Reese/Finch :-)
Mar. 11th, 2012 04:39 pm (UTC)
Aww, that makes me extra glad you liked it, since you weren't necessarily inclined to. Thank you!

Actually, I do ship Reese/Finch as well, I just tend to write for pairings where there's an extreme fic shortage. But if I get bit by a bunny, or if I happen to notice a niche in the existing Reese/Finch fandom, I would be on that like jam on toast.

Actually, if you have the time and this isn't an imposition, would you mind reccing me some must-read Reese/Finch fics? I'm so used to shipping rarepairs where there's like 3 fics in the whole fandom that the fairly wide selection of Reese/Finch is actually kind of intimidating for me.
Mar. 11th, 2012 05:55 pm (UTC)
I made you this whole list and then - seriously! - my cat stepped on the keyboard...

BUT! Just go here. I've added almost all stories I liked to the library. You should be able to get to the library, but if not, let me know and I'll check the settings again.
You can also go to the AO3 and read basically everything by Lenore, and not just her POI stories.

Also, I totally understand being in fandoms with three stories. I actually started to write in some fandoms because there were no stories at all. I am working on a Reese/Finch story though. I have no idea when it'll be posted, but it does exist. :-)

Edited at 2012-03-11 05:58 pm (UTC)
Mar. 16th, 2012 08:47 pm (UTC)
My cat does that all the time. Sometimes he sends Skype messages to my friends. It's terrible.

Also, dude, good call on Lenore. I really enjoyed her writing.

And I plan to try my hand at some Reese/Finch during the March Madness break, so we'll see how that goes. Looking forward to your fic!
Mar. 11th, 2012 09:55 am (UTC)
*grand, sweeping bow* You certainly know your way around a collar, and a collared sub. Most excellently done, dear author. And did I mention then *dead from guh*?
Mar. 11th, 2012 05:16 pm (UTC)
Actually, I don't! The collaring isn't really my usual kink; it was just something that I thought worked well for them specifically. Although I might have to add it to the lexicon of "Things I Didn't Know I Was Into Until Fandom," because writing this was a goddamn experience, I tell you what. So I'm really glad to hear that someone thinks I'm doing it right, because I was a little concerned that I wasn't.

Thank you! :D
Mar. 11th, 2012 03:07 pm (UTC)
I didn't want to like this because not my ship, not my kink. But dayamn, I bow to the power of good writing. Well done!
Mar. 11th, 2012 05:55 pm (UTC)
yaaaaaay I love it when I make people like things they normally wouldn't like!

Thanks for your kind words! I really appreciate it.
Mar. 11th, 2012 03:13 pm (UTC)
I've been waiting to read a Reese/Fusco fic for quite a while. And finally someone wrote one. :D Yay! And this is soo good. I'm into D/S and I have to say you really know how to write it. Wow! And Fusco is absolutely in character. Thanks for sharing! :)
Mar. 11th, 2012 05:12 pm (UTC)
Drive by icon love! *flail*
Mar. 11th, 2012 05:31 pm (UTC)
Thanks! :)
Mar. 11th, 2012 05:24 pm (UTC)
Thank you! I'd been waiting a while for someone to write one too. Eventually my attitude shifted from "Why hasn't anyone written it yet ;__;" to "NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO BEAT ME. I WILL BE THE FIRST. *furious typing*"

And I'm glad you thought the D/s worked out well! I've been into it in a general kind of way for a while now, but this is my first time actually writing it. Glad you liked!
Mar. 12th, 2012 11:12 am (UTC)

I love Fusco as a character, all the shades of grey, but I'm a Reese/Finch shipper -- I don't know, they just sneaked up on me (I wish). Also, D/s and collaring are not my kinks.

No, I'm not here to whine about any of that or to try to talk you in to writing Reese/Finch, that's not my style. I think everyone in fandom should write what they want to write.

No, I'm here to say I didn't expect to like this, given the above information, and I almost didn't read it, but POI stories are still in short supply and I hadn't read anything by you before, so here I am.

What I'm actually here for is to compliment your writing. For the duration of your story you took me by the scruff of the neck *cough* and made me believe in this relationship and this expression of it (Reese's flashes of uncertainty and apology really underlined it) and that takes real talent, particularly when your reader isn't already primed to like it. So that's why I'm here, because I always acknowledge talent when I see it.

Thank you. :D
Mar. 31st, 2012 08:13 pm (UTC)
(sorry it's taken me so long to reply)

Thank you! It's always really gratifying to me as a writer if I can get a reader invested in a relationship that they wouldn't otherwise be interested in, so I'm pleased you enjoyed it. I kind of figured this pairing didn't have much of a built-in fanbase and it's really nice to see people liking this fic in spite of that.

And I do actually have vague, poorly-defined plans to write Reese/Finch eventually, so, you know. Stay tuned.

Thanks again!
Mar. 12th, 2012 05:12 pm (UTC)
I'm just a lurker in this community and I'm really a Reese/Finch girl at heart but the collar kink got me. What's worse, this pairing worked for me! I wanted to be like, noooooo! But then I was like, oh yes. Now I'm like, wow! Ya knocked me off my feet, I have to say. And if you wrote more Reese/Fusco I would gladly read it:D *pets Fusco*
Mar. 31st, 2012 08:17 pm (UTC)
(and then, millions of years later, i bother to reply. sorry about that)

Thanks for commenting! I'm glad you enjoyed it, especially since it wasn't your pairing to begin with.

And I think I probably will write more Reese/Fusco eventually, because a) I love writing Fusco so much I can't even deal and b) Reese's treatment of him during the last episode filled me with sads, so I need to write fix-it fic to make myself feel better.
Mar. 15th, 2012 01:54 am (UTC)
I came.... Everywhere I actually shipped Reese/fusco from the first episode (well highly considered it) and dear Jesus ickckhcohcohc this was bloody amazing, so in-character GAAAH I love your d/s style it's a maajorrr kink of mine <3 please write more. ;_;
Mar. 31st, 2012 10:53 pm (UTC)
Glad you liked it so much! :D (also, sorry it took me like half a month to reply)

I...pretty much started shipping it around the time Reese popped up in the backseat of Fusco's car all "'sup bitch, killed your friend. go bury him for me." Which probably says horrible things about me, but whatever. This pairing's continued fucking absence on the internet saddens me. And I do plan to write more. Eventually.
Mar. 15th, 2012 07:19 am (UTC)
I applaud yr way of writing this ship. I hope you write more. This is what I needed since there's a lack of Reese flirting with Lionel these eps. (Still ship Rinch but Fusco's the next best choice). I liked how you portrayed Reese as still unsure. Loved how you ended it with describing his smile like a lightening storm. :-D I bascially loved all of this.

Side note: I'm working on a "Reese sends Fusco a ass cake" drabble if that would cheer you up about more fics. I also want someone to be inspired by the comment "fingers in all the pies...you are one of the pies". XD
Mar. 31st, 2012 11:24 pm (UTC)
(aaaaaah sorry it took me so long to respond)

Thank you! I'm glad you liked it! And I'm glad Reese's bewilderment and lack of confidence worked for you, because it's one of the things I was worrying about when writing this. Reese is always very sure of himself in show, and while he has his moments of vulnerability, I wasn't too sure of my ability to write them.

And did you ever end up posting that fic?

Also, the pies line was kind of made to have skeevy fic written about it.
( 35 comments — Leave a comment )