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... he dust motes that drifted like fading thoughts. Billy and Artur lay tangled in the cushions, breath syncing, fingers tracing idle constellations on skin and cotton.

"They remained nestled together, breath syncing, fingers lazily drawing patterns on each other's skin."

Billy rested his head lightly on Artur's shoulder, his hand draped over his chest. Neither of them spoke for a few long moments, letting the peace stretch like honey.

Then, in the quiet, a faint grumble ech ...

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