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    Summary

    Does Hikaru have a smell, he wonders, lightly brushing his knuckles over the tip of his nose and his lips, inside? Metallic, maybe, the way blood smelled like coins or keys, how Yoshiki's hand smelled if he held the bare frame of his bike for a while after it had been in the sun.

    Or maybe inside Hikaru smells cold, stale and cold like the first rush of air from inside the fridge when you opened it. Inside Hikaru had been cold in a way that made Yoshiki's stomach hurt and his thoughts go staticky because it was all wrong.

    Yoshiki deals with his dreams and his desires. Tries to. Tries to.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    9,455
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    16
    Kudos:
    152
    Bookmarks:
    9
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