"Well, it's a good thing I'm gettin' into the shower with you, ain't it," Oliver pointed out as he closed the door behind them. He deposited his towel onto the rack, then pulled his shirt over his head, half-assedly folding it and dropping it onto the counter.
"I don't mind the campfire smell, but it's not all that satisfyin' gettin' you smelly when you start out that way," he teased, though he wasn't entirely sure he had it in him to initiate much without more sleep. Later, he promised himself, if Edwin was interested and not hurting too bad. He worked his way out of pants max underwear, tugging them down his legs and bending forward to strip them off. He started to continue speaking again, but stopped at the bold mark of red on his ankle, the sound dying in this throat. He'd been so tired that morning when he'd hopped into the shower that he hadn't noticed it, but now it stood out on his skin like an unwanted tattoo. "Huh."