Hans Larsson

"My own private whore?" Rekker started laughing. "That rich bastard next door is going to be jealous."

He hated his neighbors but it was likely true for the one he was thinking about. He could feel the closeness and swallowed hard from want but also the rising desire to walk away. He felt vulnerable, way too open and exposed to be comfortable. Part of that was all the scars he usually kept hidden away under long pants. That only reminded him that he was naked. Though his gaze follows Bjorn as he brushes past, hot and wanting. No matter what his mind felt there were also the signals from his body that had been without intimacy for a long time.

Rekker distracted himself by getting one of the bottles, starting with a shampoo made to strip away dirt and grime. The disgusting fucking hairspray.

"You better if you want me to keep touching your hair." Rekker smiled slightly, flirting despite the nerves. "Your hair is trash."

Now it was Rekker standing close and waiting for the Swede to get his hair wet so that it could be washed.