Jake Andrews grips Derek Atlas’s hips, his dark hair slicked back as he pins the other man to the bleachers, tongue forcing open his mouth for a deep, rough kiss. Atlas’s muscular body arches into the pressure, his hands gripping the wood behind them as Jake’s weight presses down, fingers tangling in his shirt. The outdoor setting doesn’t matter, only the way Jake’s grip tightens around Atlas’s waist, pulling him closer for a kiss that leaves no doubt.
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