Hans Larsson

It took time to get all of the soap out of his hair but he could feel those fingers on his chest, wishing the singer would dig them in and scratch him. They felt sharp and he wanted Bjorn to get rougher.

"I am a fucking bastard and you're a whorish little bitch." Rekker shook his hair out and turned his attention back to the Swede. His eyes taking in all that pale skin for a moment. "You want to rinse your hair?"

Rekker was now actively being a tease as he stepped away, wringing out his hair and grabbing a towel as he heads around the corner to the hot tub outside. There are plenty of trees in the way so no one could see, though these had been put in to keep the ginger from burning in the sun.