Jean Franko grips the bottle hard while Louis Ricaute’s beard brushes his lips, fingers tracing the curve of his ass through the green overalls. The tattooed one leans in, tongue parting the clean-shaven man’s mouth as his grip tightens on the neck. Their bodies press close, hands sliding over skin, no words, just the rough press of teeth and the slow drag of a thumb along exposed thigh.
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