Leandro Bravo & Alex Barcelona
Alex, kneeling, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his arms firmly immersed in the dark void of the closet, had just unclogged the stubborn pipe. One last twist of the metal snake, a violent sucking sound, and the water began to flow freely, clean, victorious. Leandro, who had been watching every movement with a focus that went beyond the plumbing, felt a sudden heat rise up the back of his neck. It wasn’t just gratitude. It was the way Alex moved, the concentration on his face, the palpable strength in his bare forearms. The smell of clean sweat and metal mingled in the heavy air. “Iā¦ I don’t have any money right now,” Leandro murmured, approaching. His gaze, however, was clear, challenging, roving the plumber’s body with an intensity he could no longer disguise. “Could Iā¦ pay you another way?”
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