Richard Lennox and Devin Jones

Richard Lennox’s bearded hand grips a sock, pulling it taut over Devin Jones’ foot while the slim man leans forward, his clean-shaven jaw tight. Between them, a small toy clutched in Lennox’s fingers glistens under the light as Jones points to it, his graying hair framing the sharp focus. A brush lies discarded nearby, its bristles still damp, while another white object, smooth, unmistakable, rests in Lennox’s palm, held just out of reach. The couch beneath them creaks as the background figure fades into shadow, their presence only hinting at what’s left unsaid.