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Summary
"I thought about this," Allen confessed between breaths. "Every night you were gone. I'd lie in bed and wonder," his hand twisted at the top of each stroke, and Woobin groaned. "Wonder what it would be like when you came home. Whether you'd want me."
"I always want you." Woobin's hand came up, carding through Allen's orange hair. "Always, Allen. You know that."
