The Swede watched the Brit pass him and smiled to himself. It seemed Rekker did like his privacy and Bjorn guessed he did all the cleaning himself which was fine. A lot of rock stars did, didn't they? Even fucking rich ones like Rekker. He watched the ginger walk into the studio and couldn't help but follow behind. No way was he going to be ignored now or told to leave. Fuck that.

"You were going to wash mine, remember? I could wash yours too then it will get all the glitter out of both of our hair. I'm not such a blond beach bimbo after all."

Bjorn just followed behind the metalhead, wanting to pinch the other man's ass but held off just for now. Did he want to touch Rekker in other more private places? Oh yes. He was curious to see if the man's ginger hair wasn't just the hair on his head.

"I bet you've got loads of cool shit stashed away inside these rooms of yours."