Ludo Sander grips Billy Santoro’s shoulder as he bends over the bed, his muscles flexing under the greenish sheets while Santoro presses his lips against his back. One man stands firm, the other kneels behind him, fingers tracing the curve of his spine before pulling him closer for a deep, open-mouthed kiss. The air between them is thick with the weight of their bodies, one steady, the other moving just enough to make it clear what comes next.
