Deangelo Jackson stands over Beau Banks, his tattooed chest pressed close as he grips the kneeling man’s shoulders, fingers digging into the smooth skin while their mouths crash together. Banks’ head tilts back slightly, his own dark hair falling forward as Jackson’s weight pins him in place, their bodies locked in a rough, unbroken kiss. The standing man’s grip shifts down, sliding over the kneeling one’s chest, tracing the lines of his tattoos with deliberate pressure.
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