Yes Sir: Steamy BL Shorts
At seven thirty, Finn appeared.
Thomas noticed him immediately. He always did. Finn was a regular, showing up every Saturday morning without fail to buy a jar of wildflower honey and a bar of beeswax soap. He was twenty-eight, lean and angular, with messy black hair that fell over his forehead and sharp, bright green eyes. His arms were covered in colorful tattoos, sleeves of flowers and skulls and geometric patterns that disappeared under the sleeves of his white t-shirt. He had a silver ring in his left nostril and a easy, lopsided grin that made Thomas's stomach do something it had no business doing.