Arad Winwin and Rico Marlon stand pressed together on the balcony, their bearded jaw grinding into the clean-shaven neck of Allen King as Edji Da Silva watches from the edge of the crowd, fingers tracing the taut lines of Arad’s back. Rico’s tattooed forearm pins Allen’s hips while Arad’s mouth drags down his throat, teeth scraping just hard enough to make the air catch. The four move as one, bodies locking in a way that leaves no space between them.
