It was difficult to predict what might be over the line for Luis in a given moment, since it wasn't as though they hadn't showered together before. Dylan would always give Luis whatever space he needed, literal or figurative, since the last thing he wanted was to cause Luis distress. While he finished washing his hair, Dylan let his hands stroke down Luis’ spine, still wanting to touch him and Luis hadn't pushed him to move away. Sometimes Dylan wanted to ask what it was, why Luis didn’t want to accept certain gestures from Dylan, but more than that he didn’t want to make Luis uncomfortable. He deserved so much more than Dylan could possibly give Luis; allowing him time was hardly anything at all. Dylan idly rubbed Luis’ back, smiling as he felt the kisses to his neck, though this time the affection was underwritten with a little melancholy. Luis withdrawing a bit into himself always felt like a reminder that Dylan wasn't ever going to be enough for Luis to want to stay with him as long as Dylan wanted Luis to, but Dylan wished it were otherwise. Pushing the feeling aside since Dylan realized he was overthinking it when there was no reason to drag this moment down, he turned his head to press a kiss to the shell of Luis’ ear. “You okay?” Dylan couldn't help but ask.
Luis didn’t even think he deserved Dylan’s patience or understanding, much less how he already had been patient for several years now, and hadn’t lost it with him already. The only logical reason, to Luis, was that Dylan had stopped expecting anything from him, that he made a well enough stopgap until better things came around, so. “Of course.” His words were quiet, and Luis mustered a small smile. Why wouldn’t he be? He was standing pressed toe to forehead in the warm shower spray with a man he adored, and he could have smacked himself for him, his anxiety, being such a mood killer. Luis withdrew a little, but only so he could reach for the soap and wash the residue of twenty minutes earlier off himself. He felt apologetic, so once he had he reached up to cup Dylan’s face and press another kiss to his lips, to let him know, really, he was fine, and Dylan had nothing to worry about, much less that it was his fault. “Ready to get back into bed?” Still murmured against his lips, close as if unconsciously trying to make up for withdrawing.
Dylan had learned long ago that loving someone wasn’t enough in and of itself to make other problems go away, or even help with them, either for himself or for the other person, no matter how much he wished it were so, particularly for Luis’ sake. To protect him from even the intangible things that Dylan knew some of and still didn’t yet know was an impossible wish, but there all the same. He tried to not put expectations on Luis—not because he thought Luis would ever fall short, but because Dylan didn’t want to put any pressure on Luis for anything he might be unwilling to give. Dylan loved Luis as he was, baggage and all, and while Dylan could never quite get past the fear that Luis wouldn’t want to have Dylan’s love because of how insufficient he was, the way he felt had only become stronger the longer they were together.
In the end, his patience might only be leading toward Luis leaving him once he found someone better—and Dylan really could not blame him—, but until that day, Dylan would try to do his best by Luis. Dylan wasn’t entirely sure he believed Luis, but he could read the apology in Luis’ actions. Dylan kissed Luis back, wanting to reassure him in turn that there was no need for Luis to apologize. Smiling against Luis’ lips, Dylan maintained their proximity. “Just about. I’ll only need a couple minutes to wash up as well,” he said, since he had been thoroughly distracted by Luis. Even now, Dylan pressed his lips to Luis’ again, warmly, embracing him closer for a moment before he pulled back to take the soap from Luis so he could clean himself up from earlier.