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Summary
Jongwoo comes up behind him like a shadow, his left hand landing on Seongmin’s hip, instead of responding. His palm sits there comfortably, fingers creasing Seongmin’s shirt. Seongmin doesn’t move but his knees feel weak. The water is about to roll over to a boil.
This is a game they like to play. They take turns saying things, touching each other, pushing the other to the edge; neither of them ever fall off. Sometimes they have an audience, sometimes not.
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Bookmark Notes:
ooh
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Bookmark Notes:
Hmmfmhmmhmhg.h.