( for a moment, thomas can do nothing but watch. randel is not a small man by any stretch of the imagination. thomas is tall, but he's still captivated by the width of randel's shoulders when he shrugs off the coat and sweater and undershirt, by the length of his legs, the strength of his thighs.
with a dry mouth, he hurries to catch up, fingers far less clumsy as he undoes his shirt buttons quickly, not quite bothering to fold the shirt so much as throwing it in the direction of a conveniently placed chair. )
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with a dry mouth, he hurries to catch up, fingers far less clumsy as he undoes his shirt buttons quickly, not quite bothering to fold the shirt so much as throwing it in the direction of a conveniently placed chair. )