"Don't," he says, thin and strangled — no, not strangled, really. Smothered. The word hardly left his throat at all, and if John hadn't been so close, just about on top of him in an enclosed space, he might never have heard.
(For the Tumblr prompt "things you said while you were driving".)
"You want your choirboy back, don't you?"
"The problem with that whole strategy is that it only works once, Aaron. Once if you're lucky."