Tyson Tyler’s dark hair and tattoos stretch across his muscular arms as he grips Ken’s bald head, pulling him in for a deep kiss while his fingers dig into the other’s shoulders. Ken’s own inked chest rises with each breath as Tyson’s hands slide down, gripping his waist before guiding him toward the numbered doors behind them. The air between them is thick with the weight of their bodies, the tattoos glinting under whatever light falls on them.
