mischiefmanaged78
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These are very popular in Italy, Remus mused to himself. It’s the land of naked marble boys.
His eyes trailed from the artfully tousled curls falling across the Statue of David’s brow, down past firm pecks, down the long, reverently carved V shape framing pillowed abdominal muscles, leading his gaze lower still, like an ivory arrow pointing even further down, down to…
Remus shuffled in his beat-up Vans, moving around to the other side of the statue as a cluster of silver-hair American retirees bustled past him in a flurry of museum brochures. From this angle, his eyes fell on the soft curve where a creamy lower back met the swell of the second most perfect back-side Remus had seen that day.
The land of boys with absolute perfect arses.
OR
Remus and Hope take a lovely summer holiday to Italy and Remus finds a light he'd thought had long gone out, shining bright as a star through the piazza.
Bookmarked by mischiefmanaged78
27 Jan 2024
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Bookmarker's Notes
fucking masterpiece