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Summary
Jisung interrupts him, kisses him again, deep and a little sloppy, laughter still bubbling under the heat. Then he pulls back just enough to stare at Chan, breathless and grinning.
"You wrote a song about me riding you," he says, eyes wide like he's still processing it. "Yeah, fuck, what the hell."
Chan lets out a strangled groan, dropping his head back against the pillow. "Why are we talking about this right now."
