Whistling as he steps out of the steam-filled bathroom, Joseph shook his thick, wet hair like a dog and lazily held the fluffy beige towel around his waist. The sound of his water-logged feet softly popping against the beautiful marble floor echoed in the silent room, distracting Caesar from his daily devotional.
"Will you sit down somewhere?"
Joseph released his grip on his towel, which sat just below the horizontal apex of his hipbones, and began pulling clothes out of the hotel dresser. Without giving Caesar so much as a glance, he snorted and shook his head.
"You are such a pain in the neck, you know that?"
The brunette turned around, his bare torso now fully exposed to his roommate. "You betcha."
Caesar couldn't help but eye him up. He tried his hardest to look as though it were out of anger, but he knew deep down that it wasn't. "Twat."
"Go get in the shower, you dud. Then you can complain all that you would like."
Rolling his eyes and huffing through his flared nostrils, he grabbed his clothes and towel, making his way to the bathroom. The chilly marble floor and off-white plastered walls were covered in a layer of water droplets from the suffocating steam condensing; the air smelled of dark, sweet amber, musky, sensual sandalwood, and just a hint of sunny, juicy candied mandarin oranges mixed with the sweat and dirt the British man had just washed away. As embarrassing as it was, Caesar always requested to take a shower last, just to smell Joseph's unique scent. It wasn't anything weird, he just enjoyed analyzing different fragrances and the bar soap that Joseph used just so happened to be one of his favorite so far. He often wonders what it smells like on the other's skin, if it will sweeten and develop undertones of exotic Madagascar vanilla or warm up to reveal a smoky ginger incense undertone. Of course, again, not in a questionable way. Caesar always shakes the thoughts from his head for fear that they may become (or, less admittedly, already are) about more than a fragrance, yet continues to give in to his guilty pleasure of showering after Joseph.
After cleaning himself up and getting dressed, he shuffled out of the bathroom and toward the bed.
"Thank God you're out, I really have to go," Joseph said as he headed for the bathroom.
"Why did you not go when you showered?"
"Hold on!"
Joseph shut the door as if he were in some sort of a hurry. He didn't have to pee, he did before he showered. He just always pretends that he does after Caesar showers so he can smell the scent of his bar soap. Joseph certainly isn't a fragrance expert or buff, he considers himself much more of a casual fragrance enjoyer that just so happens to enjoy his training partner's scent of choice. It wasn't odd. He excused it by comparing it to a perfume shop, where you take sample strips of your favorites. Except, in a perfume shop, you typically sample more than one and usually buy something... And you don't have to pretend to be doing something else... And it's not smelling other people's post-shower air... Oh, whatever!!! None of it matters, it's just not weird, okay?!
Each time he stepped into the misty bathroom, the heavy air washed the blonde's smell all over him. The palo santo is always registered first, the bright and refreshing mix of pine, mint, and citrus lighting his brain up. Then the deep, earthy spiciness of patchouli follows, ballroom dancing with the light, floral herbyness of lavender. It was so refined and sophisticated, yet so, so masculine. The longer Joseph stood there and smelled, the more he felt as though he had just taken Valium. Suddenly jumping back to his senses, he rushes out of the bathroom. How long had he been in there? Would Caesar notice?
Caesar lifted his head as Joseph sped out of the bathroom. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, fine."
"I don't exactly want to sleep near you if you're feeling ill," Caesar sighed.
"I am not ill, Caesar," Joseph responded. "You don't exactly have a choice if you'd like to sleep in the bed with me... You either do or you get the floor."
The Italian scoffed and pulled the comforter back on his side. "As if."
"I'm glad you decided to come 'round," the brunette commented, a smug grin lighting his face up while he climbed into the bed. Half his body hung off the side of the bed for fear that he would end up much too close to Caesar for 'friends.' His back faced Caesar's, and vice versa, to ensure they would not wake up facing one another, or worse, touching one another.
"Good night, Caesarino."
Caesar took a deep breath in, yawning on the exhale as he nuzzled the side of his face into the cool, firm hotel pillow. "Good night, Jojo."
