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Leo looked up into the chest of a man who seemed to be carved from warm mahogany. Marcus was a regular—a powerlifter with shoulders broad enough to have their own zip code and a smile that softened his intimidating frame.

In Leo’s sketchbooks, the drawings changed. They weren't just lone figures anymore. They were studies of contrast: a thick hand interlaced with thin fingers, a broad shoulder serving as a pillow for a sharp chin. It was a story of two people who realized that you don't need to be the same size to take up the same amount of space in someone’s heart. muscular skinny gay sex

"I think it’s actually a test of character," Leo joked, wiping a stray lock of hair from his eyes. "And I’m failing." Leo looked up into the chest of a