Page 74 of Secretly Abducted
"It's very... coated."
"That's the point." He steals one of my kelp wraps, dips it in the leftover oil. "See? Cultural fusion."
"That's disgusting."
"That's delicious." He licks his fingers, getting oil on his chin. "I love that we eat like this. No rules, no proper dishes, just us on the floor eating weird combinations."
"Pool?" I ask when we're done.
"We should clean up."
We strip on the way to the pool, leaving a trail of clothes. The warm water is almost painful on our abused muscles. I sink in with a groan that Alex immediately mocks.
"Listen to you. And you say I complain."
"I don't complain, I state facts."
"You're stating facts very loudly."
He moves through the water toward me, and I recognize the look in his eyes. "Alex, we're both exhausted."
"Never too exhausted for you." He straddles my lap, hands sliding up my chest. "Besides, the warm water helps with the soreness."
"We have to wake up in six hours."
"Five and a half now." He kisses my neck, just above my gills, knowing exactly how sensitive that spot is. "Haven't you had enough of me yet?"
"Never," I murmur against his skin, but even as I say it, I can feel his exhaustion through the bond. His movements are slow, lazy, more about closeness than actual desire.
I pull him against me properly, his chest to mine, and we just hold each other in the warm water. His hands trace the scratches on my back from yesterday's work, gentle over the tender spots.
"We're a mess," he observes.
"We're always a mess." I run my fingers through his wet hair, working out some of the salt tangles. "Your shoulder needs cleaning."
"It's fine."
"It'll get infected."
"You just want to fuss." But he turns so I can see the scrape better. It's not deep, but it's ugly—a long red line from his shoulder blade to mid-back.
I clean it carefully while he hisses through his teeth. "Baby," I tease.
"Your bedside manner is terrible." He turns back around, settling against me again. He yawns against my shoulder. "We should probably get out before we fall asleep and drown."
"You can't drown anymore. You're too good a swimmer now."
"Liar. I'm terrible and you know it."
"You're adequate."
"High praise." He kisses me softly, just lips and warmth and familiar comfort. "Bed?"
We dry off minimally, stumble to bed still damp. The sheets will be wet, but we're too tired to care.
Alex is asleep almost instantly, one arm flung across my chest, snoring softly. His weight pins me in place, but I don't mind.
Through the window, I can see stars beginning to appear. The night sounds of the colony drift in—distant voices, water against supports, the ever-present hum of life continuing around us.
