Florian stood frozen, his breath caught in his throat as his eyes fixed on the sight before him.
The original Florian sat astride Hendrix, their bodies moving in a rhythm that made the air thick with heat and desperation. Both of them were moaning, but behind it—there was something else. Something heavier.
"I… I have a favor to ask of you," the original Florian whispered, his voice breaking as he ground down against Hendrix's bare length.
Hendrix's breath hitched, his lip caught between his teeth. "W-What is it? Anything."
Florian's gaze lingered on the other version of himself—his expression was twisted, not with pleasure alone, but with pain.
'He's hesitating…' Florian thought, his chest tightening as he watched the words form slowly on those trembling lips.
"It's… a rather selfish favor though," the original Florian admitted, biting his lip as his hips continued their unsteady grind.
