“I’m so upset that I’m dead on my feet right now.”
“We’ve had some long days,” Rory agreed mournfully. He didn’t want to go to bed. He wanted that Italian pasta-wine-sex that Olivia’s aunt had bragged about.
He wanted Nash.
Nash yawned again. Can’t win ‘em all.
“How about we take a shower and we can get into clean sheets all fresh. And wake up and make them dirty in the morning?”
Nash managed to give him a sleepy little smile, and Rory pulled him toward the bathroom.
“This thing is so fucking sexy, I’ve been drooling over you all day,” Rory said, hooking his fingers under the leather harness Nash still had over his shoulders, even though his cameras had been put away. Nash turned his face away from Rory, like he couldn’t handle the compliment, andfuck, that was cute.
Nash let him slip the harness over his shoulders, and Rory hung it on the back of a chair by the fireplace. Nash got the shower started, and Rory watched as he unbuttoned his shirt, a white tank top beneath it. When he looked up and caught Rory watching him, he blushed again.
“C’mon, I’ve already seen it all,” Rory said, unbuttoning his own shirt to put his money where his mouth was.
From there, they got down to business, stripping efficiently but not quickly, tired limbs moving clumsily.
The bathtub was an old claw-foot with a low showerhead. Nash parted the shower curtain and stepped in, holding his hand out for Rory to take. Did Rory need to hold Nash's hand to step into the bathtub? Usually no. But he was tired enough to appreciate the extra balance.
The shower spray hit Nash at the shoulders, and Rory shivered, none of the warm water hitting him.
“C’mere,” Nash said, pulling Rory close and carefully guiding him into the spray. The highest it got was the nape of his neck, so he ducked into the spray, lukewarm water wetting his short hair.
“If I wasn’t so sweaty and tired, this would be sexier,” Rory bemoaned, his opinion changing quickly as Nash's hands spanned over his hips, pulling Rory close enough to feel the evidence of Nash's arousal.
“I’m not having a hard time finding this sexy,” he said, the exhaustion clear on his face, regardless of his words.
Nash shivered, and Rory realized he was hogging the spray.
“We can have a sexy shower in America,” Rory said, grabbing the travel-sized bottle of shower gel he brought and squeezing some into his own hands, and then Nash's. They sudsed up quickly, did a brief shampoo, and called it good. “Olivia’s aunt promised me hot Italian countryside sex, and so far that hasn’t come to pass.”
“She propositioned you?” Nash stepped out of the shower and handed Rory a towel after Rory shut the water off. He looked like he was ready to fight for Rory’s honor. It was hot.
“No,” Rory said, realizing how he worded that. “She was bragging about her own trip to Italy in her youth, and all of the pasta and sex she had.”
Nash hummed, scrubbing the towel across his beard and face, then up into his hair before he gave his dripping body any attention. It made his dark hair a little fluffy, and Rory realized he hadn’t made one move to start drying himself off. He couldn’t help it. The views in Italy weredivine.
Nash yawned again and Rory caught it, feeling the yawn in his bones. They were on the homestretch now, where everything here on out was downhill. They’d done the hard stuff. Now they just had to make it home. Rory wouldn’t even have to do any editing, which he was grateful for. He was only there to hold cameras.
“Fuck,” Nash said, pulling the sheets back and climbing into bed. Rory followed after him, knowing his hair was going to be a mess in the morning because he slept on it wet. He didn’t have time to wait for it to dry. They were naked, skin to skin, and Nash pressed him into the mattress, capturing his lips in a slow, languid kiss. It was sexy, but there was no bite to it. No heat. Rory was sharing a bed with Nash for the first time in nearly a year, and he wastoo tired to get it up.
Rory sighed, feeling the exhaustion in his own bones. Nash trailed kisses down Rory's neck until he was nuzzled in, theirbodies flush and warm together under the sheets. And Rory realized, as he pet through Nash's still-damp hair, that he was out cold.
