The sound of water filled the bathroom, soft and rhythmic. Steam curled against the marble walls, carrying the faint scent of cedar soap and something sweeter that clung stubbornly to Lucas's skin.
He sank deeper into the tub, eyes half-closed, his head resting against the edge as if he'd already surrendered to the inevitable. "You're impossible," he said, his voice quiet but edged with amusement. "You can't just pick me up and…"
"Carry you?" Trevor interrupted from behind him, his tone far too pleased. "I absolutely can."
Lucas huffed, though the corners of his mouth betrayed him. "I can walk, you know."
"Barely," Trevor said, crouching beside the tub to dip his hand into the water. The heat had turned his skin pink, and when he brushed his fingers over Lucas' shoulder, the omega let out a contented sigh he hadn't intended to give.
Somewhere between their after-love moment and this, Trevor changed and carried Lucas like the menace he was.
Trevor smiled. "See? You like it."
