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honey bee

Published on Nov 7, 2026

honey bee

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character: soap_(modern_warfare_2), ghost_(modern_warfare_2) 2boys, male, yaoi, bara, muscular, heavy body hair, solo focus, side view, from side, missionary, sex, vaginal, legs spread, head thrown back, head back, neck, open mouth, tongue, moaning, heavy breathing, blush, sweat, trembling, half-closed eyes, in love, romantic, intimate, kiss, neck kiss, horny, bare face, no mask, completely bare face, beard, stubble, facial hair, sandy blonde hair, slicked back hair, short hair, hairy arms, strong arms, hairy chest, hairy legs, wedding dress, white dress, corset, corseted dress, wedding veil, bridal veil, high heels, white high heels, garter strap, thighhighs, white thighhighs, lace, male, muscular male, updo, mohawk, undercut, black hair, slicked back, blue eyes, wedding kilt, kilt, tartan, tuxedo top, formal shirt, bow tie, formal shoes, black shoes, hairy body, bedroom, bed, white sheets, window, moonlight, warm lamp light, side profile, oral, atlantoaxial joint, bed, spoken_heart, seductive, passionate, intimate The camera sits at mattress height in a hard side view, the whole frame running left to right along the axis of the bed, both men in profile. On the left, on his back with his shoulders pressed into the pillow, the sandy-blonde man is caught at the peak of the moment: his head is thrown all the way back over the pillow's edge, jaw open and throat a long bare line, mouth open and gasping, a blush burning across his cheekbones and sweat beading at his temple and rolling down his bare neck. His face is completely uncovered -- beard, bare jaw, bare mouth, no mask anywhere, none folded on the nightstand, none hooked at the bedpost. His sandy blonde hair is slicked back and the motion has knocked one strand loose against his forehead; it lies flat and damp otherwise against the pillow. He is thickly built, masculine, bara proportions, and his body hair is everywhere the light reaches -- a dense dark mat on his chest above the corset's edge, hair down his forearms and the strong swelling biceps he has thrown up beside his head, a hairy trail below the corset's cinched waist, hairy thighs framed by white lace at the stocking tops. He wears a white corseted wedding dress: the boned white bodice laces tight at the waist and flares into white fabric around the hips, bunched and shoved up over his belly by the angle; a white wedding veil falls from the back of his head over the pillow and spills off the mattress edge, its mesh catching the lamp glow. White thigh-high stockings run up his legs, held by a white garter strap snapped tight on the thigh, and white high heels -- the only rigid pointed shapes in the soft bed -- dig their heels into the rumpled sheet with his legs spread wide on either side of the other man's hips. On the right, the man with the mohawk leans over him in profile: short black hair shaved to the sides and swept up into a dark mohawk slicked back over the crown, blue eyes half-lidded and fixed down on the bare neck beneath him, cheeks flushed with wanting. His mouth is open against the side of the blonde man's throat, lips pressed to the tendon, kissing the neck with a slow hungry hold, so his face is partly buried there -- the kiss is the contact and it is legible. His upper body is dressed formally Scottish: a black tuxedo top with satin lapels over a crisp white formal shirt and a black bow tie, the sleeves rolled nowhere, the whole jacket sharply cut. Below the waist he wears a wedding kilt in deep tartan, the pleats fanned and crushed over the blonde man's hips where his knees bracket them, and one formal black shoe planted flat on the mattress beside a white high heel for leverage. His own body is bara-thick, hairy arms and a hairy chest visible just at his open collar, and one hairy forearm braces on the mattress beside the blonde man's head while his other hand grips the blonde man's hip through the white fabric of the dress. The bed is a broad low platform with a rumpled off-white duvet and white sheets, pale and seamless. Behind them, a single warm bedside lamp on the right casts the only light: it rakes left across both profiles, hot along the blonde man's upturned throat and the satin of the lapels, and the shadows fall away to the left and low behind them; a window above the bed carries a thin blue moonlight that stays cold and soft, separate from the amber pool. The room is dim and closed beyond the bed, no other light source, the darkness at both edges of the frame absolute. Colour discipline: white, cream and off-white for the dress, veil, stockings, sheets and heels; deep tartan green and red at the kilt; black for the tuxedo and shoes; warm amber on skin; nothing else admitted. On the pillow beside the blonde man's open mouth a small hand-drawn heart floats in a tiny speech bubble, a symbol only, no words. The fabric of the corset is compressed into a crease where he arches against it, and the veil's net sags into the dip of the mattress -- the evidence of the weight and the motion. Intimate, breathless.

honey bee

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