Brian Hansen stretches out on the couch, shirt clinging to his dark, slicked-back hair as he leans back with the loose confidence of a man who knows exactly what he’s doing. His muscles ripple under the thin fabric, taut and ready, while his fingers trace idle patterns across his own chest before he pulls the shirt over his head, leaving only the sharp definition of his body. The couch dips beneath him as he settles deeper, one arm thrown casually behind his head, the other brushing against the edge of the frame, waiting, but not in need of anything.
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