Trevor Brown and Roman Tate

Trevor Brown’s beard presses into Roman Tate’s neck as he grips his shoulders, fingers digging into the taut muscle of his back, while Tate’s lips part for a deep, open-mouthed kiss that leaves his jaw damp. The two stand close enough that their chests brush, the air thick with the weight of their bodies, one’s arms flexed around the other’s waist, the other’s hands tangled in the hair just above the collarbone.