Romeo Davis grips Cole Connor’s hips, his beard rough against the other man’s olive skin as he shoves him forward over the urinal, the red cap abandoned on the tile. Beau Butler kneels behind them, his tattoos dark against the locker room’s stark light, fingers already working Cole’s hole while Romeo drives into him hard, the sink’s porcelain cold beneath their sweating palms. The air smells like sweat and disinfectant as they take turns, one sucking, one fucking, until the last man stands, dripping, and pulls the next one down.
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