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Hiro's tent is a canvas of sin, his breath fogging up the insides as he indulges in his taboo. His hand, slick with spit and pre-cum, glides up and down his engorged length, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through his body. The cold air nips at his bare skin, but his desire burns hotter, fueled by the memory of his camp buddy's touch. He bites his lip, suppressing a moan as he coats his abdomen with his sticky release, the evidence of his forbidden pleasure glistening in the dim light.