Paul manages to get down into the water. Oh-kay. Adjusting. Groovy.
He leans his head back against the tile wall, eyes shutting half-way. A tired, amused half-smile plays over his chapped lips at Wyatt's Fuck if I know, see if I care...
To Paul it reads as if Wyatt's trying to navigate The Minefield of Paul Smecker again. Having learned excessive caring gets tennis balls thwocked against a floor, Wyatt's attempting to see how the other direction works for him, maybe? But the fingers on his chest, careful, tender, sort of give the lie to it.
Paul raises a hand from the tub, touches his fingertips briefly to the back of Wyatt's hand-- just in passing, gone the next second-- and then back into the water. He closes his eyes.
"No. Thanks. Just going to sit here and let aloe-y goodness leach into my skin."
[Wyatt's place]
He leans his head back against the tile wall, eyes shutting half-way. A tired, amused half-smile plays over his chapped lips at Wyatt's Fuck if I know, see if I care...
To Paul it reads as if Wyatt's trying to navigate The Minefield of Paul Smecker again. Having learned excessive caring gets tennis balls thwocked against a floor, Wyatt's attempting to see how the other direction works for him, maybe? But the fingers on his chest, careful, tender, sort of give the lie to it.
Paul raises a hand from the tub, touches his fingertips briefly to the back of Wyatt's hand-- just in passing, gone the next second-- and then back into the water. He closes his eyes.
"No. Thanks. Just going to sit here and let aloe-y goodness leach into my skin."