Kai Cruz grips Andy Davison’s hips hard as he slams into him from behind, the rough concrete wall biting into his back while Andy’s fingers dig into the railing, his breath ragged. The sun bleeds through the graffiti-scarred alley, turning Kai’s sweat into streaks on Andy’s smooth, slim back as he rides him. Their bodies press against the bench, knees bent, Kai’s grip never loosening as Andy moans into the railing, the greenery beyond a blur.
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