Hans Larsson

"You're staring at my crotch." Rekker rolled his eyes though he wasn't exactly sure, Bjorn's eyes had definitely lingered low for more than a couple breaths.

He went straight for the cabinets and tried to ignore the half naked Swede. It did leave Rekker, now shirtless and reaching up into the top of the cabinet for things he rarely used on his own hair.

"No." He glanced over his shoulder while setting the bottles on the bathroom counter. "I hate the fucking sticky bullshit in it."

He had a textural problem with the tackiness the hairspray left behind on his hands. Rekker was trying to think if there was somewhere he could stand in the shower where he could wash Bjorn's hair and not get soaked so he could stay dressed. Nothing was coming to mind because he hadn't had to think about it yet. His hands had gone cold from the anxiety inside while he went over and put the bottles on the shelf in the spacious shower.

He wondered where the Swede was and turned around to look into the other room. He caught sight of his own hot tub and frowned. He didn't believe in god but he might well pray that it goes unnoticed at this point.