perhapstomorrow | The bell has been raised from its watery grave...

"You just couldn't resist, could you?" Grey asks as the turn towards the bathhouse. But while he rolls his eyes, there's also a small flash of a smile that visits the corners of his mouth.

The light bantering makes the situation less awkward. Honestly, Grey isn't sure why he finds it difficult in the first place. It's just... two crew members dipping into a bathhouse.

Just two crew members who had wild storm sex just a few nights ago after having been at each other's throats. Completely normal.

"I'm just saying," the mage quips, not looking towards Grey as they walk. "If it weren't for going fishing with your brother, you could start a plague on your own body from lack of soap."

He joking, of course. For all they're pirates, Midnight's glad to have seen they practice good hygiene.

Grey's dipping into water constantly, and so are his clothes. He's a rare pirate in the way that he actually washes his clothes often enough. His ship is clean, his crew washes up because the captain honestly can't stand a mess.

But even he realises this is a joke, or something akin to it. A topic they need to chew on while walking. Something easy and simple.

"Didn't know you had such a delicate nose," Grey replies.

The mage laughs, bright and carefree accompanied with a little shake of the head. "Of course I do. How else would I know when pirates might be approaching my hut? Also, I work with herbs for medicines and need to know I'm on the right track without burning things while mixing them in a cauldron."

"So, you rely on tracking pirates by smell?" Grey's brows shoot up. "There's a practical and completely fail-safe way of honing in on unwanted guests."

They arrive at the bathhouse and Grey reaches for the door and opens it for Midnight. They're greeted with a mist and the clean scent of soap and minerals that waffles around them inside the house. At the front a lady in white hurries to welcome them in.

"Two?" she asks and Grey grunts something that she translates to mean yes. "This way gentlemen," she smiles and leads them to a guarded dressing room.

So friendly, Grey.

At least Midnight's smiling enough for the lady's benefit, chatting with her about the day, the bathhouse services, the rules of the place they should be observing and so on. They're eventually left alone, the necessary supplies neatly organised in little open shelves, so...

Of course Midnight immediately starts to strip off.

Grey listens to the chatting with half an ear while looking around, making sure there's nothing instantly dangerous in the supplies or in the dressing room. When the lady leaves, he doesn't wait around but instead shrugs off his clothes, jacket and shirt and buckle of his belt, there goes boots and then lastly his trousers. He doesn't look at Midnight, because he figures that it might be the last thing the mage wants.

Beside, it would be rude.

He grabs a bucket and the washing cloth and soap that has been provided, the linen that has been nicely folded up underneath and starts towards the tubs, round things that have been built into the floor of the bathhouse. There are a few others beside them, but there's so few that they can find one pool that's completely empty. Wash up first the lady had said and Grey settles to do that, filling his basket with warm water from a tub designated for it and pours it over himself. Next come soap and scrubbing. It takes a good fifteen minutes for him to be satisfied before he pins up his washed hair and finally sinks into the lonely pool with a soft sigh erupting his lungs.

Midnight takes a bit longer, just for being more obsessed with personal hygiene, all while he's carefully angled his body to keep his back out of view from the rest of the bathers. He's lucky not to be anywhere nearly as scarred up as Ulysse or Rook, but... sometimes he feels it's more shameful to only have a few lash-marks left, because he knows it's because he gave in instead of fighting back the whole time.

Once he's sufficiently clean, he joins Grey at the pool, sliding in with a little sigh of his own. His body stretches eagerly without his permission, toes lightly grazing over Grey's legs in the process, but he doesn't apologise, too busy enjoying how his body arches, all his muscles happily tensing and then relaxing in the delicious heat of the water.

That little toe brush brings Grey back to reality from the warmth induced coma that he had been enjoying. And he's hurdled into hot waters right away when he makes the mistake of glancing at the mage who is stretching out beside him, all loose limbs and expression of relaxation and pleasure on his features.

Grey never realised just how pretty the mage is. Not before they fucked. And now he can't stop thinking about it. Those perfect, proportioned lines and symmetrical features. Not to mention the cat-like grace that he moves in...

Grey draws his breath in and relaxes against the pool, his eyes closed and jaw tight.

The pretty little bird is too busy watering himself to notice that he's causing any discomfort to Grey. He luxuriates for a while, then slides his eyes open, glancing towards Grey and noticing the tension in the man's face and body language in general.

Then, "You know, you could do with a massage."

"Maybe," Grey replies without opening his eyes. He probably could use one, but right now he's rather not think about it. Otherwise he'll pop a boner that would be quite inconvenient, right? He's already struggling to keep his body under control.

"Probably all of us could."

"Mhmm..."

Making up his mind, Midnight sits up in the bath, edging closer to Grey.

"You look tight. Turn around, I'll do your back for you," he instructs, absently drawing a hand through his hair to sweep it back from his face.

Grey's eyes open and he gives a small sigh while glancing at the mage from the corner of his eye. But he gives in, turning his back to Midnight while he draws his knees closer to his front.

Like this he doesn't actually have to look at the mage at least.

Midnight's honestly surprised that the pirate conceded at all. He was fully expecting Grey to flat-out refuse or gently tell him to fuck off. The pirate seems to have actually softened a bit of his antagonism towards Midnight since-

Well, that night.

Trying not to think too hard on it, Midnight shifts closer, his knee settling against one side of Grey's ass. He gives that broad back an assessing stare and then finds a spot to start from, pressing his fingers into the knots of tension he can see obviously, and from there he'll branch out to what he feels instead.

Grey's back is heavily tattooed, not a surprise to anyone that there are mermaids, ocean and quite a bit of fish depicted on his back and slipping down to his arms. They're not done in just simple black like one might expect, but there's brilliant colour here and there, a little bit of reds and turquoises, ocean green splashed on a hint of yellow here and there.

He sits quiet as Midnight's hands are on him. But there's very little actual relaxing happening. His voice goes low as he makes a sound of painful pleasure when the mage finds a very sore spot that feels good unravelling...

He might have loosened up in terms of the mage. But he isn't exactly more talkative is he?

The tattoos are interesting to look at, even as Midnight's hands work automatically to work out the stiffness from Grey's muscles. The mage's fingers are warm and sure, careful not to make things *too* painful but not showing any mercy when he has to work a spot to get it supple once more.

"... This is the kind of tension I see and usually joke about someone needing to spend a weekend at a brothel," Midnight comments offhandedly, grunting quietly himself when he finds a particularly tough spot he needs to put his weight into to really be effective.

"I've never been to a brothel and never will," Grey mutters, his voice a little strained the mage leans his weight into the sore spot right between Grey's shoulder plates. He feels the ache and the burn of the muscle stretching under the mage's elbow digging right there, beside his spine.

His dick seems to disagree. The traitorous thing. Grey closes his eyes again, trying to will down the semi-boner that seems to scent the mage's vicinity and pops up whenever it wants to.

"Or well, I grew up in one, a harbour town brothel. My mother worked there."

Those careful fingers pause in their ministrations and Midnight finds himself leaning to one side, trying to see Grey's face over his shoulder. "Really?"

It's hard to believe, considering how private both Grey and Aidan are, and especially considering how shy about sex the younger brother is.

Grey tilts his head back and looks at the mage from the corner of his eye. He seems rather baffled by this revelation.

"Yeah," he says slowly. "My mum was a hooker. No one knows who my dad is, Aidan's dad took us all to his house eventually."

"Ah, that explains it," he murmurs to himself, nodding and resettling behind Grey with a slight smile, working his way up to Grey's shoulders. "I was just thinking, you and Aidan both don't exactly seem as... open about sex as I'd expect if you grew up in a brothel."

"It's a choice," Grey says and shrugs with Midnight's hands on his shoulders. "It's not exactly something that baffles me or troubles me." He took a moment's pause to consider what he was going to say next.

"It's a preference to not enjoy it... randomly," he continued, knowing that this was a loaded statement between the two of them.

Again Midnight has to pause, because then-

"... What was that the other night, then?"

Grey sighs, his shoulders tensing. He knew this question would arise.

"I don't know," he says finally, shrugging.

"... Heat of the moment, then?" comes the hesitant suggestion, offering them both an easy out.

... Though considering that Grey had just said he's not one to enjoy random sex encounters all over the place...

"Mmn." Grey makes a sound that one could interpret as an agreement. If they wanted. But that's all he's going to give Midnight. He's not at all ready to talk about it.

Midnight's free to interpret, though. Go for it, buddy.

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