Scott Finn stands with his broad chest flexed, the golden leaf pattern behind him catching the light as he strips off his shirt, Evan Landers watches, his dark hair falling forward, muscles rippling under the fading fabric. The air hums with anticipation as Finn’s hands work the buttons, revealing a body built for strength, while Landers’s gaze lingens, his own shirt soon following. Naked, they move closer, the wall’s intricate design forgotten as one takes the other by the hips, the first press of skin against skin sharp and deliberate.
