"Do I?" he asks, amusement toying at his voice. Moving one hand from her hip, he takes one of the wash-towels to slip it between their bodies, slowly cleaning the rest of what's left stuck to his chest with the soap from her back and his hands. The water runs pink for a minute, before he discards the towel and dips his head to press a kiss against the top of her head, lips against her wet hair.

Jostling to reach around her then, he quickly turns the shower off, and flips the metal knob to stopper the tub and let it fill. Being in such a lonely building can be a blessing. There's little competition for hot water.

Folding the curtain back, he settles himself against the back of the slick tub to slide down it, legs bracketing hers, and shoots a coy look up at her. "My hands shouldn't get to have all of the fun," he says, nodding for her to join him. He has a plan that suits him better, though he's more content to keep his cards close to his chest for the moment.