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Summary
Wen Kexing likes touching him, even just to aimlessly trace what he can’t see from here. The edge of his thumb finds Zhou Xu’s nipple, where his breast is abruptly softer still. There is no need to wonder what he looks like – Wen Kexing has seen everything there is to see of his husband, and yet.
Wen Kexing feels some kind of way about Zishu's breasts, mostly tender
