Micah Brandt and Jonathan Bartell

Micah Brandt’s thick beard and hairy chest press into Jonathan Bartell’s back as he pins him to the couch, fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulders while the other man’s white underpants ride low, barely covering the dark hair at his hole. The red shirt Micah wears slips off his shoulders, leaving his chest bare and rough against Jonathan’s skin, who sits still, arms resting on the couch as the weight of him forces Jonathan’s head down. The wall behind them holds no reflection, just the two of them, one gripping, one waiting.