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Summary
The music shifts, dragging out slow and steady; someone starts crooning a song about stars and touching, and Flynn hears only the rush of blood in his ears and the matching breath from the man wrapped around him. He wants so strongly that he aches with it; every nerve under every inch of skin is alive and singing. It seems incredibly urgent and important to chase all of this touch even closer, to let his own fingers skim hot skin.
1940s WWII vets fall in
lovebed together