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Summary
Chan shudders, full-bodied. He burrows his face further into his own arm as if trying to hide. He tends to get a little shy whenever Jisung has him bent over, even if he always goes along with it so willingly. “Please,” Chan whispers. His ears are an impressive shade of crimson. Jisung kind of wishes he could see Chan's undoubtedly flushing face right now, but then he wouldn't be able to keep looking at the flex of his shoulders, the pretty dip of his back, the way he's taking Jisung’s fingers so well, just like he always does.