Rhea snorted despite herself. "You're such an idiot."
"An idiot with excellent form," Ling corrected, flexing again just to push it.
Rhea shook her head, lips twitching, then grabbed the shampoo bottle from the rack with sudden purpose. "You smell dirty," she announced. "Very dirty."
Ling laughed, deep and unguarded. "Excuse me? I shower twice a day."
Rhea stepped closer, holding the bottle up like a weapon. "Liar. All that gym sweat. Absolute menace."
Ling raised both hands dramatically. "Are you attacking me now?"
"Yes," Rhea said simply, and squeezed the bottle.
Shampoo spilled into her palm.
Ling's laughter softened when Rhea stepped behind her, hesitant for half a second then committed.
Rhea's fingers touched Ling's shoulder first. Just that. Careful. Testing.
Ling went still immediately not stiff, not tense just aware. Completely.
Rhea poured the shampoo and began rubbing it in, slow circles, keeping her touch deliberate and controlled. She stayed where she felt safe: shoulders, upper back, arms.
"You're really bossy for someone who panics at everything," Ling murmured.
Rhea huffed. "Don't distract me."
Ling smirked. "You're doing great, though."
Rhea didn't reply. She focused on the motion, on the scent, on the way Ling didn't rush her, didn't grab her, didn't turn it into something else.
When she finished, she rinsed Ling's hair carefully, water cascading down Ling's back.
"You know," Ling said, "for someone who threatened me with shampoo, you're surprisingly gentle."
Rhea smiled faintly. "Don't get used to it."
Ling chuckled. "Too late."
They stayed under the running water longer than necessary.
Ling kept flirting like it was her natural language, like teasing was safer than admitting how tightly she was holding herself back.
"So," Ling said lazily, tilting her head as water slid down her neck, "is this the part where you admit you like me shirtless?"
Rhea scoffed, eyes deliberately flicking away and then back. "Don't flatter yourself. I just didn't want shampoo in my eyes."
Ling smiled, slow and knowing. "Liar."
Rhea stepped closer instead of answering. Too close to ignore. Close enough that Ling could feel her warmth even through soaked clothes.
"You talk too much," Rhea muttered.
Ling raised an eyebrow. "And yet you keep standing here."
Rhea didn't reply. She reached up suddenly and kissed Ling's cheek.
Once.
Ling blinked, surprised.
Rhea did it again the other cheek this time, quicker, lighter, like she was daring herself more than Ling.
"You're doing this on purpose," Ling said, voice low, amused, controlled.
Rhea shrugged, pretending indifference, then leaned in and pressed a kiss to Ling's jaw. Then another near her cheekbone. Then one right below her eye.
Ling laughed softly, breath uneven now. "Are you trying to distract me or punish me?"
"Both," Rhea said, and kissed her again.
Ling tilted her head back slightly, letting it happen, hands firmly to herself, jaw tight with restraint. "You know," she said, "most people would've lost control by now."
Rhea smiled faintly, almost proud. "But you didn't."
"Because you didn't ask me to," Ling replied, eyes dark but steady.
Rhea kissed her face again slower this time, deliberate, grounding. Forehead. Temple. Cheek.
Each kiss said the same thing without words: I'm here. I'm choosing this. Don't leave.
Ling finally leaned her forehead against Rhea's, water pouring over them both. "You're dangerous," she murmured.
Rhea huffed a laugh. "Says the girl who took her shirt off first."
Ling smirked. "Occupational hazard."
Rhea tilted her head, eyes narrowing with mock judgment.
"You know," she said, voice light but pointed, "you're shameless."
Ling didn't even pretend to defend herself. She smiled slow, unapologetic.
"I know."
Rhea shook her head, lips twitching despite herself. "You don't even feel embarrassed saying that."
Ling leaned a little closer, careful not to trap her, careful not to push. "Why would I?" she asked calmly. "I'm very comfortable with who I am."
Rhea clicked her tongue. "That's exactly the problem."
Ling laughed, low and warm. "You kiss my face five times in a row and I'm the shameless one?"
Rhea opened her mouth to argue, then stopped. Instead, she leaned in and pressed another quick kiss to Ling's cheek purely out of spite.
Ling froze for half a second, then grinned. "See?"
Rhea glared. "Don't get ideas."
"I already have ideas," Ling said smoothly. "I'm just not acting on them."
Rhea rolled her eyes, but her shoulders relaxed. "You enjoy provoking me."
Ling nodded without hesitation. "Yes. But only when you're smiling."
Rhea went quiet for a moment, then murmured, "You're impossible."
Ling softened just a little. "And you still let me stay."
Rhea didn't deny it. She only leaned her forehead against Ling's, water still running, steam curling around them, the teasing fading into something steadier.
Then she hesitated for barely a second before reaching for the hem of her shirt.
"Fine," she said, chin lifting slightly. "I can't pull everything off… but some things, I can."
She tugged the shirt over her head, movements deliberate, not rushed. Steam curled around her skin immediately, softening the moment, blurring edges.
Ling didn't move. She only watched openly, unashamed, eyes warm instead of predatory.
A slow smile spread across her face. "Fair deal," she said quietly.
They moved to the bathtub together, the porcelain already warm from the running water. Rhea climbed in first, settling back, still wearing her bra and panty. Ling followed, careful with space, then sat behind her, legs framing Rhea's body.
Rhea leaned back instinctively.
Ling's arms came around her. Rhea's back rested against Ling's chest, the water lapping gently around them, clothes darkened and heavy but somehow comforting.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Ling rested her chin lightly on Rhea's shoulder. "Comfortable?" she asked, voice low, controlled.
Rhea nodded. "Like this… yes."
Ling didn't push further. Her hands stayed where Rhea had placed them earlier on her waist, fingers relaxed, thumbs barely moving, as if reminding her she was there.
"You know," Ling murmured, teasing creeping back in, "this is still you sitting in my arms."
Rhea huffed. "Don't ruin it."
Ling smiled against her hair. "I won't. Promise."
The water ran steadily, steam fogging the room, turning the world small just porcelain, warmth, and the quiet rhythm of breathing that slowly synced.
Rhea reached up, fingers brushing Ling's forearm, grounding herself. "This is okay," she said softly, more to herself than to Ling.
Ling tightened her hold just a fraction. "Then we stay right here."
Ling's arms encircled her waist loosely, fingers tracing idle patterns over Rhea's stomach, the waist chain glinting faintly through the soaked material.
Rhea shifted slightly, turning in the confined space until she faced Ling, water sloshing softly.
Her eyes, still red from earlier tears, locked onto Ling's intense gaze. Without a word, she leaned forward and kissed her lips meeting in a tentative press, soft and searching, tasting the faint salt of lingering emotion.
Ling responded immediately, one hand rising to cup Rhea's cheek, deepening the contact just enough to convey reassurance.
Pulling back a fraction, Rhea reached for Ling's hand, guiding it to rest over the waistband of her drenched panties, the metal of her navel piercing brushing against Ling's knuckles.
"Maybe we can start from now," Rhea murmured, voice barely above the ripple of water, her guarded heart cracking open a little more.
Ling's brows furrowed, her athletic frame tensing beneath Rhea.
"Sure?" she asked, thumb stroking the edge of the fabric, waiting for confirmation, her dominant nature yielding to caution after Rhea's confession about the past trauma.
Rhea nodded, a small smile breaking through. "Yes."
Emboldened, Ling's hands began to roam slowly around Rhea's sides and back, fingers gliding over her curves, mapping the dips and swells of her frame without venturing upward to her chest or downward beyond the waistband.
The touch was deliberate, exploratory pressing into the softness of her hips, 42 inches wide, then sliding along the 28-inch waist, feeling the subtle give of flesh under the material.
Rhea sighed into the sensation, her body relaxing against Ling's lean form, the abs beneath her providing a firm anchor.
Ling leaned in again, capturing Rhea's lips in another kiss, this one lingering, her free hand threading through Rhea's damp hair.
As they parted, Ling's gaze dropped to the constellation of moles dotting Rhea's skin the one on her throat she'd kissed earlier, another near her collarbone, a faint one on her shoulder.
Her fingertips followed, tracing each with feather-light strokes, committing them to memory like hidden treasures. Rhea shivered, not from cold, but from the intimacy of being seen so thoroughly.
"This feels strange," Rhea murmured.
Ling smiled faintly. "Good strange or bad strange?"
Rhea tilted her head slightly, cheek brushing Ling's collarbone. "Safe strange."
Time blurred in the steam-filled room, the water cooling gradually around them. Eventually, Rhea stood first, water cascading off her body in rivulets.
She stepped out of the tub, grabbing a towel but not using it yet. In front of Ling, who watched with quiet intensity from the water, Rhea peeled off the soaked shirt and panties, letting them drop to the tiled floor with wet slaps.
Her body, full and unapologetic chest 38 inches, hips flaring wide stood bare for a moment, vulnerable yet defiant, the nose ring catching the light, navel piercing dangling slightly. Ling's eyes traced her without demand, respect in the way she didn't move.
"You're really shameless," said Rhea. Rhea slipped into a plush robe, the fabric enveloping her like a shield, tying it loosely at the waist.
She extended a hand to Ling, who rose gracefully, water sluicing down her toned 5'9" frame, abs flexing as she stepped out. Ling dried off quickly, wrapping in her own robe before they moved to the bedroom, the king-sized bed waiting with fresh sheets.
They sank onto the edge together, robes brushing.
Rhea turned to Ling, pulling her into another kiss deeper this time, hands framing Ling's face, tongues touching briefly in a spark of connection.
Ling's arms wrapped around her, holding her close, the kiss breaking only when breath demanded it.
Rhea lay beneath Ling, hands resting on Ling's back, not tense anymore certain. When Ling leaned down, Rhea didn't flinch, didn't hesitate. She tilted her chin up instead, meeting her halfway.
Their kiss was deeper than before, slower but surer. Not rushed. Not stolen. Chosen.
Ling paused just enough to search Rhea's face. "Still okay?"
Rhea smiled, soft and real, and nodded. "More than okay."
That was all Ling needed.