#lycra lads

[betterbrosandgardens]

Better brah

[polo-drone-070]

Maximus: The Golden Mascot (part 1)

The mascot contest.

The locker room was well noisy, lads jokin’ and shovin’ each other like usual. Grayden stood right in the middle of it all, all confident-like in his spotless gold soccer kit. His platinum blond hair was sharp, and his square jaw looked like it was carved outta stone or somethin’. He clapped his hands together, cuttin’ through the noise.

“All right, boys, listen up!” he said, grinning like he already had us in his pocket. “We’re holding Mascot Tryouts today! It’s time to see who’s got the spirit to represent the Gold Army.”

A few lads mumbled, but no one stepped up. Most just kept lookin’ anywhere but at Grayden. My stomach twisted a bit as the room went quiet. Like, I didn’t care about no mascot gig—it ain’t what I’m about. I’m a player, right? Right fullback, Number 70. Proper defender. Mascots are cool and all, but that ain’t me.

Grayden looked ‘round, eyes sharp as a razor, then landed right on me. My chest puffed up instinctively. “C’mon, Maximus,” he said, his voice smooth like butter. “The team needs someone to step up. Show the bros how it’s done.”

I blinked. “Oi, nah, bruv, I’m just here to play, innit? Not prancin’ round like some cartoon.”

His smile didn’t even flinch. He walked up, standing proper close. “The lads look up to you, Maximus. You’re always bangin’ on about loyalty, about doin’ what’s best for the team. So what’s stoppin’ you now? Or is Number 70 scared of a little fun?”

That hit me right in the pride. “Bruv, I ain’t scared of nuffin’, yeah?” I said, standin’ up straight. “If it’s for the team, I’ll do it. But don’t think, lyk, I iz enjoyin’ it or nuffin’.”

Grayden clapped me on the shoulder, his grin widening. “That’s the spirit.”

The Initial Suit-Up

He took me into this side room, and there it was—the mascot suit. Big and shiny, set up on a mannequin like it was somethin’ sacred. The gold lycra clung tight to fake muscles, all bulgin’ and over-the-top. The rubbery armor on top gleamed under the lights, lookin’ mad futuristic. And the helmet? Massive, with this blank golden visor that made it look almost alive.

The smell hit me before I got close—thick, rubbery, with a weird musky undertone. “Oi, bruh, what’s that smell?” I said, scrunchin’ up my nose. “Lyk... smellz sweaty, innit?”

Grayden smirked, leanin’ back with his arms crossed. “That’s the scent of dedication, Maximus. You’ll feel it once you’re in.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah, dedication or whatever.” But when I touched the suit, it felt... good. Soft and stretchy but strong, like it was meant to hold me tight.

The lycra suit went on first, sliding over my skin like it was alive. It clung to every muscle, makin’ me look ripped in ways even hours at the gym couldn’t. “Oi, datz tight, bruv,” I muttered, runnin’ my hands down my chest. “Lyk... propa showin’ me off, yeah?”

Grayden just smiled and started strappin’ the foam armor onto me. Each piece locked into place with a satisfying click. By the time he was done, I looked like some golden superhero. The weight, the snug fit, even the musky smell—everything about it felt... right. I flexed a bit, smirkin’ at myself in the mirror.

“Alright, Maximus,” Grayden said, his voice almost teasing. “Time to show the lads.”

Reluctance and Longing

The locker room went mental as I strutted in. Lads were cheerin’, whistlin’, even takin’ pictures. I lapped it up, flexin’ and posin’ like I was showin’ off a trophy. “Yeah, you like that, don’t ya?” I said, grinnin’ like a loon. “Bet none o’ you look diz gud in shiny gold, huh?”

But underneath all the showin’ off, I felt... I dunno. Strong. Important. Like I wasn’t just Maximus, Number 70—I was somethin’ bigger, somethin’ for the team.

When Grayden told me to take it off, my stomach dropped a bit. “Oi, d’you reckon I could, lyk, keep it on a bit longer?” I asked, tryin’ to sound casual. “Feelz gud, lyk, real nice, u no.”

“Not yet,” Grayden said, givin’ me that annoyingly calm smile. “You’ve had your fun.”

I let him help me out of the suit, but it felt... wrong, leavin’ it behind. That night, I couldn’t sleep. The smell, the feel, the way it made me feel like a bloody legend—it was all stuck in my head, spinnin’ round and round.

The Return to Grayden

I couldn’t take it anymore. I tossed and turned in bed, my sheets tangled around my legs as that bloody suit haunted my thoughts. The way it hugged me so tight, the musky smell of it, the way it made me feel like I was somethin’ bigger than just a defender... I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about it. My chest felt tight, my stomach churnin’ with somethin’ I couldn’t explain.

Finally, I threw off the covers and stormed out of my room. My feet practically carried me on their own to Grayden’s quarters, and before I could even think twice, I was bangin’ on his door like a man possessed.

Grayden opened it a moment later, lookin’ like he’d just been waitin’ for me. His platinum blond hair was still perfectly in place, even at this hour, and that smug grin of his was plastered across his face. “Maximus,” he said, leanin’ against the doorframe. “Couldn’t sleep, huh?”

I scratched the back of my neck, my ears burnin’. “Oi, listen, bruv,” I started, my words tumblin’ out all at once. “I just... I cunt stop thinkin’ ‘bout da suit, yeah? Lyk, I need to try it on again. Just fer a bit, lyk. It’s fer the team, u no? I just wanna feel it again.”

His grin widened, and he stepped aside. “Come on in,” he said, his voice smooth as butter. “I think I’ve got just the thing for you.”

_____________________

Thanks to @polo-drone-084 aka Grayden the Head mascot for inspiring that story. Ready to join the team? The Golden Army awaits. Contact one of our recruiters and take your place.  @brodygold @goldenherc9 @polo-drone-001"

[scrumjock]

Lycra Lads

[assortedseaglass]

Come Back To Me - Chapter Six

Billy Washington x OFC

[Masterlist]

Warnings: Language, Trigger Point (TV) Spoilers

Author’s Note: Thank you for being patient with me while I write this chapter. So folks, here we go…

Word Count: 3.5K

Late afternoon faded into early evening, and London was once again coming alive. School kids, their uniforms disheveled, ambled home. Restaurants were setting tables and chairs outside their premises, a few punters already drinking Aperol Spritz and Bellinis. Cyclists sped past the unmoving cars, desperate to be out of the heat. Billy watched as a tourist stepped into the road, only to be shouted at by a man clad in lycra on a racing bike. He rubbed his face and felt a trickle of sweat run down his back.

Billy’d never known a hotter July. Usually, his birthday week was spent away from the city. Away from the noise of a crowded London, with heat emanating from every building and body. As a child his birthday coincided with the summer holidays, and his parents always took him and Lana away to the south-coast seaside for a week. Looking back on his childhood, Billy could measure birthdays in ice creams, sandcastles and beach barbecues. Last year, he had been moping over Becky, who had initiated the first of their many breaks. Ida drove him down to Dungeness, where an old boat house full of friends waited for him. There was Sofia and Faisal, Joe from school, she’d even managed to get a few of the lads from football to come down. They had fires on the shingle beach, cooking fish the boys had caught that morning. They drank until only embers were left in the fire. Talked until their voices were hoarse. Spent the mornings swimming in the cold sea and afternoons reclining on the hot pebbles. Looking back, Billy thought that was the last time he belonged anywhere; at the edge of the world with a few people that had chosen to love him. Now, he was alone. Sweating in London traffic as he drove to pick up friends he imagined didn’t even know his surname.

PING. A text from Lana.

Billy, where the hell are you? It’s not funny now. Police called saying you missed a meeting with them!? Mum and dad are going spare.

He ignored it. They’d called him yesterday, singing happy birthday down the phone before launching into a tirade about where he was. I’ve gone away with friends for a few days. Birthday bender. That’s what he’d told them, anyway. Somehow, he wanted the truth; that he’d spent the morning at Gwen’s before getting drunk and sleeping on a pub floor, to stay hidden.

PING

“Christ, Lana.” Billy was about to silence the phone when he saw the name on the screen. Ida.

Hey, I know you don’t wanna talk, but just give me a message to let me know you’re alright. Hope you had a good birthday, I.

Two things happened simultaneously. Billy’s heart fell to somewhere around his stomach, and his thumb reached out to press the call button by Ida’s name. He stopped. An image of her tear-streaked face looking up at him as he pressed his body against hers flashed in his mind. Instead, he called his voicemail.

You have no new messages, and one saved message. Saved messages:

Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Billy, happy birthday to you. I hope you’re ok, Bill, wherever you are, and having a good birthday. Don’t get too drunk.

They laughed sadly.

I left your birthday present at the flat, I hope you like it. It’s Ida, by the way.

To play this message again, press one. To save it -

He pressed one and listened to her sing him happy birthday again. Listened to her sad little laugh. Listened to her clarify who it was, as though he didn’t know every inflection of her voice by heart.

On and on he drove, wending his way through thoroughfares and back alleys. With each turn in the road that took him closer to his destination, he tried not to think about Ida. Or his arrest. Or the disappointed looks of his family. He cranked up the radio, the bass thumping and causing the old car to quiver. Popping some gum in his mouth, he nodded his head to the music. He couldn’t let the lads see him being his usual pathetic self. This was a chance to reinvent. To leave the past behind him –

PING

Mate. Can you call me? I’m with Becky

Fuck. It was Lana again. Truth be told, he had had too much to drink yesterday, and by his 7th or 8th pint had made some questionable calls to his ex at the prompting of his new mates. Sure, Becky had treated him horribly and kicked him to the curb, but no-one needs voicemails of drunken shouting left on their phone. Billy rang Lana immediately.

“Billy!”

“Can you put Becky on?” God, he needed to apologise.

“Where are you? Sounds like you’re driving?”

 “I’m driving to meet my mates. Let me speak to Becky.”

“What mates?” Thanks, Lana. “Anyone I know?”

Billy huffed in annoyance. “Just mates, Lana. Why? What’s going on?” He leant his arm against the window and rested his head on his hand. The traffic was slowing again, but no matter, he was almost there. A large group of people was up ahead, blocking the road.

“Listen, Billy, I’m not with Becky. I just needed you to call me.”

“You’re not with Becky?” He didn’t understand. “What do you mean? Why?”

“I need to talk to you. You’ve not been answering my calls, you’ve not been about,” Billy could hear panic in her voice and it only made him bristle more. Did they not think he could look after himself for one day? “Where are you driving to? Billy? Billy!?”

“Fucking arsehole!” A man shouted through Billy’s car window as he drove slowly through the crowd. Billy stuck up his middle finger and carried on. His mates were around here somewhere and if these tossers wanted to block the road then it was their problem, not his. A few people banged on the windows.

“Billy, where exactly are you?”

“Farringdon Tube Station,”

“Sounds busy, what’s going on? Billy, why are you there?”

He looked around at the signs they were holding. Antifa. Against the Far Right. All Are Welcome Here. Realisation was slowly dawning on him. Lana was still shouting at the other end of the line. “Billy! Listen to me. It’s important. What are you doing at Farringdon Station?”

“I was meant to meet the lads here. ‘Outside the tube’, he said, but I can’t see him. Just a load of lefty wankers.”

Lana sighed. “Billy, why did you drive? Was that your idea?”

“Nah, my mate asked me to give some of the lads a lift down. Must be some kind of joke.” The crowd were moving away from the car now, and Billy couldn’t see his mates anywhere. His voice grew quiet. “Yeah, he’s set me up, hasn’t he? They’re having a laugh, aren’t they? Knobheads.” He smiled faintly, if only to stop himself from screaming. Abandoned, again.

“Billy,” Lana’s voice was hurried now. “These new mates of yours, they’re not who you think they are.”

“Lana, what are you on about?” He leant against the window once more.

“Nic. Nic Roberts!” Billy’s mind remembered the large man Warren had introduced him to. “He’s…he’s a terrorist. One of the Crusaders that killed Nut.”

The world stopped for a moment. The heat of the day disappeared and the roar of London died. He thought back to when Warren introduced him to Nic. His opinions were a little extreme for Billy but he had been kind, welcoming, taken him under his wing. Everything came back into focus.

“You’re winding me up,”

“Do I sound like I’m fucking winding you up!?” Lana screeched, though she sounded panicked, not annoyed. “Have any of them been near your car?”

When he’d told the lads about his car, Warren said he knew a guy, Tommy, that could fix it up. All the men had chipped in and called it an early birthday present. It was him who Billy had been driving to meet. When he gave no answer to his sister, she continued. “Look around. Is there anything different about it?”

“Eh?”

“For fuck’s sake, Billy! Listen to me! I need you to check the car for me, ok? Have a look under the steering wheel, or under the footwell, anything that you can see that might be unusual.”

Billy’s voice was small and distant when he replied. “Right, yeah,” His hands followed Lana’s instruction. He grazed them along and under the steering wheel. Nothing. Around the mirrors. Nothing. Under the radio, knocking over some rubbish as he did. Nothing. Under the passenger seat. Nothing. He lifted the foot mat…

“Lana, there’s some masking tape underneath the foot mat,” His breath shuddered as he heard Lana sigh.

“Alright, ok. Can you really carefully lift up the masking tape?”

Billy hummed nervously in assent, slowly peeling back the mat. “There’s…there’s a wire, Lana.”

“Can you see where it’s leading to?” Her voice was urgent.

“Erm, th-th-the glovebox.” Billy hands were shaking and his breathing ragged. He held the catch of the glovebox a while, preparing himself for whatever was to come next. Ida flashed into his mind, and he pulled the handle. “Fucking hell,” he shouted, edging away. “Shit, shit, shit. It’s hooked up to summat. Looks like a bomb.” Panic flooded him. “I’ve got to get out of the car.” He fumbled for the door but Lana shouted.

“No, Billy! Do not get out of the car!”

“If it explodes I’m done for, I’m gonna die,”

“Do not get out of the car! You just need to stay calm and listen to me, alright. Here’s the plan. You need to drive away from the Tube. The police are looking for a safe location.”

A horn beeping behind him made Billy jump, and slowly, he pulled away.

“Right, we’re gonna go to Cranstead Fields, Billy. You know the way, yeah?” Billy almost laughed at the irony. Of course he knew the way. Of course that was where he was going to die, he’d spent so much timing living there.

“Yeah, I know it.” He could see the lads from football that he had grown up with. His favourite tree to climb, and the best one to shelter under. The view from the opposite end of the field, back to his house. Ida on the swings with a can of cider in her hand.

“I’ll meet you there. It’s gonna be ok, Billy!” He rubbed his eyes to push back tears. Would it be alright? Did Lana really know? “When you get there, keep the engine running, alright? Don’t press anything, don’t open the door, don’t touch anything. Stay still, I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

The first real waves of fear were beginning to wash over him now. “You’ve gotta tell mum and dad I’m sorry, yeah? And Ida,” His voice cracked.

“Billy, tell them yourself. You’re gonna be fine. I’m about five minutes away. Just stay calm, stay focused. I’m nearly there, alright?”

He nodded to himself, trying to brush images of his family from his mind, when a small beep sounded from the glovebox. Billy leant forward. “Shit, Lana!”

“What? What’s happened?”

“There’s a timer, Lana. There’s a fucking timer.” Eight minutes, counting down in red digits. “Shit. SHIT!”

“Listen, Billy,” Lana could hear his panic, hear him pounding the steering wheel.

“Fuck!”

“I’m gonna help you, I swear, but you need to focus, ok? I just need you to concentrate on getting to the park. You’re only a few minutes away. When you get there, drive straight onto the field and it’ll be fine, I promise. You’re gonna be safe.”

Billy’s phone vibrated. “Fucking hell, Lana, my phone’s gonna die.”

“Billy? BILLY!?” The line dropped and Lana swore. Somewhere not far away, her little brother was speeding towards Cranstead, heart full of terror and all alone.

*

Ida spent the rest of Billy’s birthday at her grandma’s house, helping her in the garden. When the Washingtons pulled into their driveway, she hurried indoors. Only hours before, Ida had told them they were a useless family, screamed in their faces and run away. She hadn’t mentioned this to her grandma, but when Gwen caught Val’s stony gaze following Ida’s retreating form, she surmised that the Washingtons had felt her granddaughter’s fiery wrath. It was no secret, that neither Ida, Billy, or even Gwen, liked the way the Washingtons treated their youngest.

Today, the pair were tackling the vegetable plot at the end of the garden, which backed onto Cranstead Fields. Her bare feet enjoying the warm dirt beneath her, Ida was busying herself with the sweet peas that stood next to rows and rows of green beans. She was tying them into small posies so that more could grow, while Gwen harvested a few of the courgettes and their flowers. Ida felt most content outdoors, working with her hands. She often imagined a life for herself, working as a researcher or teacher then coming home at the end of the day to a smallholding far away from the city. Chickens, a couple of dogs, flowers in the front garden, a sandy-haired man waiting in the doorway…

“Ida, tea!” Gwen called, placing a pot and two teacups on the garden table. They sat in silence a while, sipping their tea as Tiggy purred in the evening sunlight. The ringing of Ida’s phone broke the peace. Lana’s name appeared on the screen. Ida was in no mood to talk to Lana after yesterday; she needed some time to be by herself, to be selfish and put herself first. She cancelled the call. Immediately, it rang again. She turned the screen to her grandma, who read the name then raised her eyebrows. Ida gave her a look that clearly meant here goes, and answered.

“Lana.”

Lana spoke in one, quick breath. “Ida, Billy’s in trouble. These new friends of his, well, I don’t want to scare you, but they’ve planted a bomb in his car and he’s on his way to Cranstead-”

Ida’s scream was near silent. Horror was etched into every pore of her face. “A bomb?” she whispered.

“He’s freaking out. He might be there before me. Can you get there?”

A switch flipped in Ida, and the steely resolve that Billy loved so much about her leapt into action. “I’m at gran’s. I’ll be there.”

She sprinted away from her grandma and down the narrow path by her house. “Billy needs me,” she called back, and that was the only explanation Gwen needed. Barefoot, Ida sprinted towards the park, her cheeks burning, tears fighting to burst free and her breath roaring in her ears. Billy needs me, Billy needs me, Billy needs me, Billy needs me.

She saw him. That ridiculous old Vauxhall came speeding around the corner and disappeared through the park gates, closely followed by multiple police vehicles. Ida sped up, not caring about her feet which were bloody and battered from the pavement. Police tape was already up by the time Ida entered Cranstead Fields, but she carried on running until a policeman grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back.

“Step away from the scene, miss,” he said, trying to restrain her as she kicked her feet.

“He’s my friend! Please!” She fought against the man with all her might. “Lana asked me to come, please!” Ida screamed until she was hoarse.

“Ida?” She looked up to see a stout man with dark skin and shorn hair. He was completely kitted out in dark uniform, a sheen of sweat forming on his brow.

“Has?” Before he could reply, the roar of an engine filled their ears. Lana’s car skidded to a halt, and she exited almost before it had stopped. She made a beeline for Has. Ida, still restrained by the policeman, listened to them speak in hushed tones.

“I’m worried he’s gonna bolt,” Has said.

“Get everyone back, I’ll speak to him.” Lana ran towards Billy as Has approached Ida and the police.

“Billy, I’m here.”

“Lana,” Billy’s voice was desperate. Weak. Sweat was dripping from his forehead, from heat or fear, Lana couldn’t say.

“Alright? It’s gonna be fine.” Lana tried to sound as reassuring as she could. Her heart was hammering in her chest, fighting the urge to open the door and pull her little brother into her arms. “Stay really still for me, yeah? I’m gonna look around the car.”

“You’ve gotta do something. Lana!” His gaze followed her as she walked around the car. He didn’t want to be alone. Not now. He muttered under his breath, phrases between stay calm and I’m gonna die. He looked to the timer. 3.26.

“I’m gonna get out-”

“Stay still! Don’t touch anything, I’m gonna check the car ok?”

“Just hurry!” He sounded like a child and Lana tried to recall her training. Focus. “How bad is it?” Billy asked as she came back to the driver’s window.

“It’s fine.” Lana’s voice was focussed.

“I can tell when you’re lying, man! How bad is it!?”

“It’s fine,” she tried to sound convincing.

“Lana!”

“It’s fine!”

“Lana,” he was starting to cry. Hot tears fell from his wide, blue eyes.

*

Ida watched as Lana prowled around the car and the other officers talked in hurried whispers. A man, clad head to toe in grey combat uniform, a gun strapped to his back with only his eyes visible, was speaking into a comms device.

“EXPO is at the device. Cordon secure, sniper’s in position.” Ida gasped and ran forward once more, only to be caught by the same policeman.

“Miss, I will not hesitate to arrest you if you do not stay behind this cordon!” An ugly sob rent itself from her lips. She watched Lana hurry back towards Has, and she stilled to listen to them speak.

“The timer, it makes no sense.” Lana said.

“Why?”

“How would the bombers know where he’s gonna be when the device goes off? I don’t get it.”

“A decoy?” Lana nodded and returned to Billy. Ida could hear her screaming to him through the window.

“Billy listen to me. Listen to me! Billy look at me, yeah!? The timer means nothing. They put it there as a trick so that you’d open the door. Can you hear me? Don’t touch it. Stay still. It’s gonna be fine. Listen to me. I’m your sister, ok? You need to trust me! I’m gonna go and get some stuff. You’ve gotta trust me, it’s gonna be fine!”

Ida watched as she ran back to Has and they resumed their discussion. Every now and then, Ida glanced to Billy in the car. He was rocking back and forth, anguish painted across his face. “Lana!” she called out, but Lana ignored her.

“What’s happening?” said Has.

“Billy’s freaked out by the timer, but I’m sure it’s a trap. I need to get him out but the driver’s side might be rigged.”

“Passenger side?”

“That’s where the device is. I don’t wanna risk it, they could have done all the doors.”

As Lana and Has continue to speak, Ida turned to watch Billy once more. He was screaming for his sister, the words indistinguishable but the fear evident.

“Let’s extract him through the rear window,” Has said, laying a hand on Lana’s shoulder.

“LANA!” Ida screamed for her to hear. Both she and Has turned to look at her. “He needs you! He’s freaking out. He doesn’t understand what your saying. Let me go!” She shouted at the policeman. “He needs you there.”

“Ida, we haven’t got the time-”

“He needs someone! Send me! I can calm him down.”

Has interrupted. “That’s impossible, love, I’m sorry. We can’t have civilians at the scene.”

Ida ignored him. “He doesn’t trust you, Lana. Send me!”

Lana stared at her for a moment. Ida was right. Before she could act, the solider in grey spoke.

“Trojan Five Four, suspect is unlocking the door.”

“BILLY!” Lana screamed. Without thinking, Ida broke through the cordon. Billy needs me. She sprinted towards the car. Billy needs me. She watched as Billy struggled inside. Billy needs me. In her periphery, she saw a sniper’s gun raise in her direction. Billy needs me. Lana’s voice drifted towards her on the summer breeze, barely discernible to her now.

“DON’T SHOOT!”

Note: Thanks for all your well wishes! I’m off work and drugged up, but writing this is getting me through. Not too long until the next chapter <3

Tags: @jessssica1234 @anditsmywholeheart @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternet @aemonds-wifey @slytherincursebreaker @valerie977 @i-killed-ramsey @greenowlfactif @yentroucnagol @schniiipsel @arcielee

[giantsorcowboys]

Guy Friday 💪🏻🧔🏻‍♂️💪🏻

From Rugby To The NFL...🏉🏈

Cannot Wait To See Louis Rees-Zammit In A Skintight NFL Uniform.🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿🇺🇸🍑🙌🔥😍🔥😍🔥😍

Woof, Baby!🌶🌶🌶🌶

[scallyjaison]

🔘 lad 💪😎

ilja

[scrumjock]

Lycra lad

[betterbrosandgardens]

Better moves

[tightguys]

Tighter fits

[yesterdayiwrote]

I find it very funny that Alex has been blonde for 4 weeks now, and George has only just publicly made reference to it to tease him because it just makes me think it’s taken him this long to realise what’s different

[innocenteventi]

glamour next door - Tuscany (Italy)

[welshscallylad]

[sarah-claire]

I’d like that please. I’ve always felt like I was a girl since I was about 13, I hated sport and was weak and got bullied so hung around with the girls, they teased me and toyed with me, one wanted to go out with me, but her friends said her boyfriend who was a known thug would beat me up. I wish I had told her my secret and become one of her girlfriends as there were a couple of older black lads in my school who were well endowed (so I was told).

My Mummy warned me about Men ‘like that’ but that made me more and more wanting to dress in her Lycra panties, tights and pretty white bra slips and curl up on my bed, dreaming girlie fantasises…

[scrumjock]

Italian lads in Lycra

[tomhollandnet]

There’s nothing quite like doing a photoshoot with two lads in lycra.