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Summary
With the way Seonghwa’s fingers were creeping up his thigh under the table, massaging the muscle on the sensitive inner side, he was going to get his way.
By the time dinner ended San was hard, aching in the pretty sand colored suit and at serious risk of a visible dark spot. His breathing was shallow, soft little gasps as Seonghwa’s hand boldly palmed him while the others began to say their goodbyes.