Jp Dubois dominates Gabriel Phoenix with a tight grip on his thigh, his suit jacket already undone to reveal the muscular chest beneath. The blond leans back on the couch, shirt gaping open as Dubois adjusts his tie with deliberate precision, fingers tracing the lapel before pulling him closer. Their bodies press together, one still seated, the other sprawled, while drinks sit untouched between them, the formal setting forgotten in the slow, controlled shift from touch to something far more direct.
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