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“Come dance with me,” Akira murmured, leaning close to Goro as they sat at the table, the seductive notes of jazz music washing over them. He slipped his arm around the the other young man’s shoulders.
Goro’s smile faltered. “You have to be joking.”
“What do you think I am, some kind of Joker?” Akira’s glasses slipped down on his nose as he smiled.
“You’re impossible.” Goro’s gaze flicked over to the dance floor, filled with a few couples who were enjoying the evening. None of them resembled what the two of them would look like there.
“Some other time.”
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