In the dimly lit pool hall, two inked gay boys, sunglasses perched atop their heads, eye each other warily. The game is on, but the real action isn't on the table. They trade smoldering glances, each stroke of the cue a seductive invitation. The clack of balls and the soft, wet sounds of their kisses mingle in the air. One boy, his tattooed biceps flexing, corners the other, pinning him against the table. Their lips meet in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss as they grope each other's crotches, eager to feel the growing bulges. The game of pool forgotten, they retreat to a dark corner, hands exploring, pants dropping, until they're lost in each other's rhythm, their groans echoing through the empty hall.