Axel stepped out of the bathroom, the steam following him in a soft cloud that clung to his damp skin.
A towel was wrapped around him, tight from the chest down to his knees, enough to cover him, enough to put a barrier between himself and Ivan's eyes, which he could already feel burning into him from across the room.
Ivan had insisted earlier that they should shower together, but Axel had refused completely.
Not because the idea was strange, but because he knew what would happen if they kept pressing their bodies together, even in the excuse of cleaning off.
They had already lost themselves too many times, over and over, until neither of them could even count, but within a few minutes, their bodies stirred again, they weren't cooling down, weren't backing off; if anything, they reacted more violently with each passing second.
Axel wasn't naïve, he knew control was a fragile thing, and Ivan's wasn't infinite.
