Sergeant Miles grips Oliver Hunt’s shoulders, his beard rough against the clean-shaven jaw as he presses their bodies together, fingers digging into muscle and ink. The couch creaks beneath them, the dark-haired, tattooed man’s weight pinning Oliver down while their mouths crash open, tongues twisting with desperate hunger. Miles’ grip tightens on Hunt’s hips, pulling him flush against the hard length already straining between them, the air thick with the sound of their ragged breaths and the wet slap of lips.
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