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Summary
Radar grabbed Hawkeye’s wrist and pulled him back. “You don’t gotta go anywhere. It hurts, right? Can I help?”
Even as Hawkeye hesitated, Radar could smell his interest as his libido, already on a hair trigger, spiked. “But you’re not…”
“I don’t mind.” Radar leaned forward and nuzzled into Hawkeye’s neck, scenting him. “I don’t gotta be in heat to wanna play with you.”
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Hawkeye's rut is coming up and he can't sleep. Radar helps.
