Gifts for executionr
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Summary
Minho’s vision is met with familiar sharp fangs framed by plump lips, until he pulls his flashlight back a little to illuminate the other's whole face. Minho can’t hold back the smile that dares to taint his own. “You called,” he breathes out.
Chris tilts his head coyly, gingerly to the side. “And you came, I’m surprised.”