Milkshake Hearts

Chapter 8: Vulnerable

A/N: Back with another chapter, and this time, a little note about the inadvertent social commentary in the last couple paragraphs: I don't mean it as a serious dig at any ~other ships~ in this fandom at all (all power to you, shaymien shippers, the damien/shayne dynamic is indeed a good one), just commentary on how men are socialised in general

anyway on to the actual fic (this chapter is a little more standard length for once!)

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"Fuck, did I hurt you with my nails? I kind of got carried away," Courtney admits, carefully, leaning back against the shower wall in exhaustion after they finish, hand resting gently on his back where she had ended up gripping a little too tightly amongst their intimacy.

"No, baby, it's fine. It wasn't bad pain, it's super hot to have you clinging to me like that," he answers, still evidently trying to regain his breath. He pulls her away from the wall and into his arms a moment later, wrapping her in a tight hug as he pulls them both back under the stream of water, still warm – thank god for the central hot water in her building.

"I feel like I actually need to shower now," the laugh she lets out is much closer to a giggle than she would usually allow, but she lets it slide this once, seeing him smile in response.

"Same. You think you can stay away from me if we shower together?" He asks, teasing, and she tilts her head.

"Maybe," she responds without conviction, reaching over to her loofah hanging on the edge of the unused soap dish. For his part, Shayne quickly identifies and grabs her shower gel from the shelf where her shampoos and the like sit, reaching out to ask her to hand over the loofah.

Courtney pauses for a moment, the sheer intimacy of the moment suddenly hitting her. No one has helped her shower or clean herself since her parents when she was a very young child, certainly no one she has a fully formed adult relationship with. Certainly not someone she's been dating for nine days – but she can't find it in herself to feel exposed or worried. It's Shayne. Of course it's not a problem.

So, she lets the loofah fall into his hand and watches as he squirts a small quantity of shower gel onto it, reaching forward and starting to run gentle circles across her abdomen. She can't help but let her eyes fall shut as he does, settling into the vulnerability and comfort of the situation. She repeats the process on him, after he finishes, before they both reluctantly step out of the shower into towels and each dry themselves.

Shayne steps out of the room to go and grab his clothes as soon as he is no longer dripping wet, Courtney shifting the other direction into her room after she has pulled on her underwear to find a sleep shirt. She has one that was definitely one of his shirts stolen some time ago, and she goes for that one, although it no longer smells like him the way it used to, too many washes between when it was his and now.

"How you feeling?" he asks, wandering into her bedroom a few minutes later in mid-thigh-length checked pyjama shorts and no shirt, rubbing the towel he had used across his lightly damp hair.

"Satisfied, tired, in love," she answers, grinning, sitting cross-legged on the end of her bed, "but also a little bit annoyed, I'm going to have to blow dry my hair before I can lie down."

"You wanna do that now, so we can go to bed?" he asks, and she nods, reluctantly standing up and stretching before she wanders into the bathroom.

"How are you feeling?" she calls out, returning his question. It encourages him to follow her path back towards the bathroom, hanging up both their towels before moving to lean against the doorway and watch as she flicks her hairdryer on.