Pep sits back on his heels and watches Bojan breathe, his chest rising and falling, his lips parted and slick with spit. There’s dried come on his stomach and Pep likes that he doesn’t know if it’s his or Bojan’s or both of theirs.
“You’re beautiful,” Pep says, and he spreads his fingers out along the smooth skin of Bojan’s thigh.
Bojan doesn’t
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Comments 33
this is insanely good
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this comment made my day :) thanks for taking the time!
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Poor Pep
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anyways.
thank you for reading and for commenting!
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haha no, i kid, i kid.
thank you so much for reading and commenting :))
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thanks for reading and commenting :)
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