Daniel knows Rack is dying for a smoke, and this hotel does allow it in some rooms--which Rack jumped at--but to give him credit, he doesn't automatically reach for his pack and lighter. Instead, he reaches for Daniel's left hand and tangles their fingers together.
"Go ahead and smoke," Daniel whispers. "I don't mind." And really, he doesn't. Rack without the scent of smoke lingering around him just isn't the same.
"In a minute, love." Rack scoots a little closer until their shoulders and hips are touching. "Don't go calling me a girl, but you feel like a bit of a cuddle for a while?"
A smile touches Daniel's lips. "I could cope. Be warned, though, if I don't wash off soon we'll end up stuck together."
"Oh, yeah, right." Rack's up and out of the bed before Daniel can protest, but he only goes as far as the bathroom, and returns lickety-split with a wet, soapy cloth in one hand and a dry cloth in the other. He crawls up onto the bed and rubs the wet material over Daniel's belly, sudsing down to his groin, and even his ass.
"Talk about a wet spot," Daniel jokes. Rack laughs, and uses the clean side of the washcloth to clean himself up. The dry cloth is applied next, and then both are tossed carelessly to the floor. "Now, you said something about holding each other?"
"Sounds better the way you put it."
"Hey, nothing wrong with a good snuggle."
"Oi, don't call it that. Makes me sound like a tutu-wearing old Nellie." All the same, Rack does cuddle down against Daniel. "Spoons," he orders. "Put your arms 'round me."
Daniel obeys, turning on his hip so that he and Rack are lying like cutlery in a silverware drawer, hip to groin and back to chest. Rack's just the right height to tuck his head underneath Daniel's. Daniel takes in a deep breath of the smell surrounding his lover--sex and smoke and old leather--and sighs in contentment. "This is the life."
)
