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Summary
"Just hold me," he says, his voice raspy from the weed, before taking another puff of the spliff burning between his fingers. He hands it over to Chan. "Smoke with me, please."
Long, strong arms come to rest around his waist like a belt. Chan's eyes glimmer, looking up at Jisung with a softness he's never seen him aim at anyone but himself.
He wants to keep it that way.
Or
A story about falling in love while everything else is falling apart, about wading through trauma and making it out alive on the other side.