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Summary
“I’ve got it!” Sander said gleefully, startling him out of his memories. Sander sat up and shifted Robbe off his lap to sit across from him. “We’ll play a game, a friendly competition, if you will.”
Robbe pursed his lips, nonplussed. “Okay.”
“We kiss,” he started, smirking at Robbe crookedly with far too much confidence. “Lips only. No hands. No touching. Just our mouths. Whoever reaches out with their hands first, loses. Body contact counts too.”
