Viktor ran into his gym buddy Marcus in the locker room after a heavy leg day. Both of them were still flushed, shirts clinging to their chests, the air thick with sweat and testosterone. Marcus’s eyes lingered a second too long on Viktor’s arms and the way his shorts sat low on his hips.
“You look like you need to burn off more than just weights,” Marcus said, voice low.
Viktor didn’t waste time. “My place. Now.”
They barely made it through the door. Marcus was already hard, pressing against Viktor as they stumbled toward the living room. Viktor shoved him down onto the sofa, yanked his shorts off, and flipped him onto his stomach. No slow buildup—Viktor spit into his hand, lined up, and pushed in hard.
Marcus groaned into the cushions, gripping the arm of the sofa as Viktor started pounding him. Deep, relentless strokes that made the sofa creak. Viktor’s hands locked on Marcus’s hips, pulling him back onto every thrust. The slap of skin filled the room. Marcus was loud, cursing and begging for more while cum Viktor