Page 120 of Two for Joy

Romeo gestured to his face. “Really?”

“How did you describe me once? Perfectly imperfect.”

“So you’re calling me imperfect then.”

Chad rolled his eyes. “Come on, I know the shower looks rusty, but I’m hoping it’ll at least have hot water.”

“A hot shower.” Romeo groaned. “Sounds too good to be true.”

Chad rolled up his sleeve then twisted the dial. He kept his hand under the spray, frowning in concentration, then his look softened, and he smiled.

“Ready for you.”

“Are you that eager to see me naked?”

“Get in the shower.”

Romeo smirked, then undressed. His filthy clothes hit the floor with a dull thud. Chad handed over the shampoo, and shower gel, and Romeo went about scrubbing his body clean. It wasn’t the most powerful of sprays, but it stripped the dirt and grime from Romeo’s flesh. He used Chad’s shampoo and shower gel till the bottles were both near enough empty, and he reeked of Chad. He moaned when he scrubbed his hair, feeling the grease lift straight off it. His scalp tingled, and he combed his hair back with his fingers, satisfied it was clean.

Chad leaned against the wall of the bathroom, watching Romeo soap himself up. His eyes were blown with lust, but he didn’t come any closer. Even when Romeo extended his hand, Chad didn’t approach the shower. He blinked out of his thoughts, then pointed at the door. “I’ll go and—”

“No. You’re gonna take off your clothes and join me.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Romeo leaned out of the spray. “Why not?”

“What he did to me…”

“Come here.”

Chad shook his head.

“I said come here.”

Romeo curled his finger, encouraging Chad close. He took a step, then froze. His face scrunched, he didn’t look at Romeo, but turned and fled out of the door. Romeo flared his nostrils, leaving the shower. He didn’t bother turning it off, or drying himself, he marched straight out of the bathroom, a man on a mission.

“Romeo—”

“Off.”

“What?”

He shook his head, flinging droplets everywhere. “Take it off.”

Chad looked down at his shirt buttons, but made no move to undo them.

“Fine. I’ll take them off then.”

Romeo made quick work of the buttons, but when he slipped the shirt from Chad’s shoulders, he had to pause, and take in Chad’s torso.

He’d seen what Marc had done to him, the smears, the lines where the blood had run and darkened, but somehow it was more shocking without the blood, seeing only neat numbers cut, and carved into Chad’s pale flesh. They stood out, demanding Romeo’s attention.

“See,” Chad said, fighting to get his shirt back on.

“Wait, wait, wait.”

“Even you can’t stand them.”

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