[ He'd worry their hosts were going to burst in on them during this, but frankly if they were in the business of interrupting during something vulnerable he can't imagine a better time than when he had his mouth wrapped around Mace's dick. If he were a murderer with a sense of humor, that's when he'd have done it.
He's been in this bathroom. He remembers what it looked like then, and comparing it now... it's obvious Mace took the time to scrub while Ian was eating. Can't say if he's amused or impressed or flattered, maybe some combination of all three of them.
He glances at the door to the laundry, skirts it and instead begins the process of peeling off his clothes and settling them in the sink. Whether it's a laundry chute (no way in fuck he's going downstairs) or a laundry room (probably a head in the drier, right?) there's no way he's trusting it right now.
Shower first, worry about clothes second.
And then they're both naked, and Ian takes the offered hand. Not like he needs the help, not that he- it's the gesture, and it's cinching something in him painfully, and fuck, god fucking damn it why here and now of all places? All this time being so fucking careful and he can't get himself under control in the place they're most likely going to die?
Stupid.
Another thing worth noting, maybe is that Mace looks good as fuck wet and naked. It's kind of a contrast to Ian and his unsightly fucking burn taking up the center point of his chest. The eye-catcher, the first thing and maybe the only thing anyone would look at if they saw him undressed.
It's gonna be there forever, in some form or fashion. No more wearing only swim trunks to the beach.
He steps under the spray to wet his hair and water goes cascading down his wound. He hisses softly, but there's really nothing for it. No way to block off that much of his body in the shower. It's not gonna hurt it, if anything doing a pass with some soap might not be a bad idea.
Apparently he hasn't noticed the bottles yet. Can't blame him, given what else he has to look at. ]
Was there actually - you know, stuff in here? Shampoo?
[ Or are they strictly burning off the gross with hot water? ]
no subject
He's been in this bathroom. He remembers what it looked like then, and comparing it now... it's obvious Mace took the time to scrub while Ian was eating. Can't say if he's amused or impressed or flattered, maybe some combination of all three of them.
He glances at the door to the laundry, skirts it and instead begins the process of peeling off his clothes and settling them in the sink. Whether it's a laundry chute (no way in fuck he's going downstairs) or a laundry room (probably a head in the drier, right?) there's no way he's trusting it right now.
Shower first, worry about clothes second.
And then they're both naked, and Ian takes the offered hand. Not like he needs the help, not that he- it's the gesture, and it's cinching something in him painfully, and fuck, god fucking damn it why here and now of all places? All this time being so fucking careful and he can't get himself under control in the place they're most likely going to die?
Stupid.
Another thing worth noting, maybe is that Mace looks good as fuck wet and naked. It's kind of a contrast to Ian and his unsightly fucking burn taking up the center point of his chest. The eye-catcher, the first thing and maybe the only thing anyone would look at if they saw him undressed.
It's gonna be there forever, in some form or fashion. No more wearing only swim trunks to the beach.
He steps under the spray to wet his hair and water goes cascading down his wound. He hisses softly, but there's really nothing for it. No way to block off that much of his body in the shower. It's not gonna hurt it, if anything doing a pass with some soap might not be a bad idea.
Apparently he hasn't noticed the bottles yet. Can't blame him, given what else he has to look at. ]
Was there actually - you know, stuff in here? Shampoo?
[ Or are they strictly burning off the gross with hot water? ]