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His mouth tips into a grin as he notices me staring. “In,” he says.

I pout and give my cock a teasing tug.

“Boy,” he warns, shaking his head. “Get in.”

Of course I fucking listen. The hot water burns my skin in the best way, and I sigh, spinning around to get every bit of me wet. Javier gets in behind me, and I shudder at the press of his belly against my back. He shifts me with his hands on my waist until both of our bodies are under the spray.

I blink at him. He’s a little bit shorter than me, his chin probably level with the base of my throat, but everything about him looms large. He took his hair down at some point, and the thick hair trails over his shoulders, turning from dark brown to black as it gets wet.

“Hi,” I say, suddenly unsure of what to do next.

He smiles up at me. “Hello to you, too.”

A nervous laugh slips from me. I press my lips together, before asking, sheepishly, “So what do we do now?”

His responding laugh is loud, his chest and belly shaking with each breath. “Is this your first shower?”

“You know what I mean,” I protest, even as a smile stretches my mouth wide. There’s a tingling on the surface of my skin, a pleasant, almost itch. “Oh, and just so you know, I might—”

“Beautiful,” Javier murmurs, trailing a hand over the iridescent green scales appearing in patches on my skin. His touch feels electric, sending shocks of pleasure through me. “I forgot about the partial transformations.”

My hearing shifts, the sound of the shower taking on a ringing tone, and I reach up to touch the elongated ear. “An occupational hazard,” I joke. “But this is where it stops in the shower. Only my ears and skin.”

Javier makes a low humming noise as his hands continue to explore my body. Between the pinpricks of water on my skin and his firm touch, my whole body buzzes with wanting, but also with a terrifying sense of security.

I’m here, in this moment, with him. Every touch reminds me Javier is here. He has me, safe in his grasp.

“Aleks,” he asks, his whisper barely audible over the water. “Will you wash me?”

“Of course.” It’s not what I’m expecting him to ask, but something about the idea of being the one to clean him settles me, finally setting my mind at ease.

He’s got a travel sized bottle of shampoo in the shower, and I grab it before maneuvering myself behind him. His hair is already soaked, so I dive right into washing it.

I’ve never done this before. I carefully massage the soap into the thick strands, working my way methodically around his head. I lose myself in the task, everything in my head going quiet except for the feel of his hair slipping through my fingers and the knowledge I’m taking care of this man who means so much to me.

When I’m done, I tilt his head back under the spray, combing my fingers through until nothing is left but clean, dark hair punctuated by the white and gray hairs at his temples.

It takes me a minute to figure out a position that works, but I find a way to start soaping up his body. He uses a bar of soap—something homemade, by the yellowish-brown color and gritty texture of it. I do his back first, hands tracing large circles over his skin. I’m on my knees washing the backs of his legs when I hear him speak.

“I love this.”

I smile at the soft admission. “Being washed?”

“Receiving something like this from a lover.” I stand up, trailing my soapy hands over his ass a few times before turning him the other way so I can wash his front. He goes on. “Being washed is something I treasure.”

“Why?” I ask. “What about it?”

I start to work soap into Javier’s chest. He lets out a pleased hum and his eyes drift shut. “In some way, you are taking care of me. So much of what I love is to take care of the person I am with, and so these moments feel especially precious. Intimate. You are showing your devotion to me in every touch of your hands.”

My hands trail down over his curves, fingers tracing along the wet swirling paths of hair on the surface of his skin. I feel it—the devotion, the intimacy of what we are doing here. It’s heady, acknowledging the depth of it all.

When I reach his thighs, the muscles flex under my palms. The low noise he makes in the back of his throat makes me smile. “It is also vulnerable for me,” Javier adds. “I put my wellbeing in your hands.”

I cup his cock in my hand, loosely circling my fingers around him. “I like it.” Wanting to give him more, I try to figure out what it is about washing Javier I like. “All of what we’ve done, it feels like, I don’t know, like I’m set free from myself?” I shake my head. “No, that’s not…fuck, I don’t know how to describe it.”

The look Javier gives me is overwhelmingly fond. “Language, boy.” A smile teases his mouth, and his cock begins to harden in my grip. “Now clean my cock.”

I tighten my fingers around him and stroke him down to the mat of dark hair at the base of his cock. He stops me, shaking his head. “With your beautiful mouth, boy.”