Justin Owen grips Diego Sans’ hips hard enough to bruise as he shoves his tongue deep into his mouth, fingers digging into the dark hair at the nape of his neck. The window behind them lets in just enough light to see the sweat glistening on Sans’ smooth, muscular chest as Owen pulls him flush against the wall, his grip never loosening. Their bodies press together, skin slick with need, the only sound the rough rasp of breath between kisses.
