Kyle Fletcher and Brock Kniles Suck and Fuck

Brock Kniles and Kyle Fletcher stand over a wooden board, the bald, tattooed one’s arms flexing as he chops onions with precision while the other watches, his muscular frame leaning forward. The knife glides through layers of garlic and carrots, the scent thick in the air as one turns, mouth already parted, before the first taste even touches his tongue. Their hands move with purpose, one steady, the other eager, before the board is abandoned for something far more urgent.