Bautista Nores presses his lips to Rene Sava’s mouth while his fingers trace the other man’s slit, both of them braced against a brick wall in military fatigues. Sava leans into the touch, his jaw slack as Nores works his tongue along the ridge, the rough texture of the wall behind them grounding the moment. Their bodies press close, one arm slung around the other’s waist as fingers slide deeper, teasing the tight entrance. The only sound is the wet drag of lips and the slow, deliberate pull of a thumb over slick flesh.
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