Mason Wyler grips Kevin Wood’s jaw under the spray, his fingers digging into the smooth skin of his neck while the other man’s tongue traces the pulse beneath his ear. Water sluices over them as Kevin arches into the touch, his asshole parted by Mason’s thumb, the yellow bottle clutched between them for something slick and unseen. The shower’s force blurs the line between their bodies, one hand on a chest, the other pulling Kevin’s face closer for a kiss that lingers too long.
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