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Summary
Chenle pressed a chaste kiss to Kun’s stubbled cheek, grinned against the skin. “I’ll stop being selfish when you stop giving me what I want. Make me dinner, Kun.”
Kun breathed out, stuttering and shallow.
When Chenle stepped back, Kun walked over to the fridge, his shoulders tight. “What do you want to eat?”
Chenle leant over the counter, the marble cool beneath his hands. “Surprise me.”
But that was impossible for Kun. He was beautifully, painfully predictable.
