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Summary
“How long could we have been doing this?” Krampus asks, resting his head on Mako’s shoulder.
“A few years at least,” Mako replies. “Maybe seven.”
“Fuck,” Krampus snarls, dragging himself closer and using his tail to pull one of Mako’s arms further around him.
Mako laughs and wraps both arms firmly around Krampus. “Idiot,” he says, fondness clear in his voice.
“Yeah,” Krampus agrees.