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Summary
"You should move," Wren managed, though his voice came out rough, strangled like he was being choked.
"Yeah?" Jun pushed his legs apart and leaned in, close enough that Wren could smell the stench of smoke that clung to him. Close enough that he could see the flecks of gold in his dark eye, could count his eyelashes if he focused hard enough. "Doesn't feel like you want me to."