If Gyre wanted Luka to think of his touch, he need not worry - Luka had been thinking of it since that gentle brush of his cheek in the garden. He had been thinking of touching Gyre, too, since the two of them had first coyly discussed it on the fifth day. And so he can't help but bristle with anticipation with every one of those fleeting touches.

He moves down from Gyre's shoulders, over his chest, feeling for any way to unfasten his clothes and pull them from his body. What he finds is, um, a lot of fastening. And though Luka is used to being laced and buttoned and cinched into all kinds of outfits, he can't focus long enough to decipher whatever his hands are currently fumbling with.

"I think... the bath can wait." Luka sighs contentedly, craning his neck to allow easier access as he takes both of Gyre's hands in his. "Let's move to my bed."