Victor D’Aangelo and Drake Rogers sit on a sauna bench, the bearded one’s tattooed chest pressed close as he leans in to kiss the clean-shaven man’s mouth, fingers gripping the back of his neck. Andy Star kneels between them, his muscular arms wrapped around Drake’s waist while his tattooed bicep flexes against the wood, pulling him deeper into the embrace. The heat of the sauna thickens the air as their bodies lock, mouths moving with rough, open hunger.
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