Face Down

Chaz Carlton and Don Sinclair slip away from the glare of lights and flashing cameras. They seek solace by the crackling fire, its warm glow dancing across their skin. Here, they unwind, bodies drawing close. Hands trace familiar paths over taut muscles and heated flesh. Lips meet in a slow, hungry kiss, igniting the air between them. Clothes fall away like whispers in the night. Chaz's fingers grip Don's hips, pulling him nearer, their breaths mingling in ragged harmony. Don arches against him, a low moan escaping as Chaz enters, deliberate and deep. They move together, rhythms building like flames leaping higher—raw, unyielding, utterly alive.