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Summary
"Let me suck you off," Towa repeats, as if conditioning Eiji to finally comply, tongue-deep into Eiji's mouth, his voice muffled. The ashen-haired responds with a quiet groan, displacing his hands on Towa's sides to instead stroke on his thighs. It's as thin and gaunt as the rest of him, but Eiji finds pleasure in caressing them anyway. "Make space."
