Pol Prince grips Vlad Stark’s waist as they kiss, his tattooed chest pressed against the other’s dark hair, muscles flexing under the sunlight filtering through the leaves. Vlad’s shoulder ink stands out sharp against the rough bark of a nearby tree, his fingers digging into Pol’s back while he leans in deeper, the air thick with the weight of their bodies. The outdoor setting hums with the quiet tension of hands moving, one guiding, the other holding on, before the next move takes them further.
