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even the riot of red curls on his head dark with mud. It was a hazard when one worked in the ever-expanding city outskirts, digging in the dirt, making the ground ready to accept taming. It always amazed him, the way they could turn plain desert into a place where people could live, the skyscrapers rising from the ground like giants.
    The rain had come while they’d been working on the foundation of the Rigeur building, the wind whipping it around, and Barstow Dunton had fallen. The man had been covered in mud, and they’d all laughed. Which was when the mud-slinging had started, and most of them had gone down at least once.
    Gus chuckled as he remembered it. He was sticky and icky still, and the devil that had been kicked up by the play was still lurking as he walked into his apartment. The curved walls made the place feel cozy, the wall of windows keeping it from being claustrophobic. The furniture was all in solid jewel tones, bright and cheerful, pillows and cushions making the chairs and sofas inviting and comfortable. He would not sully them by sitting, but there was one thing that cleaned far more easily. He laughed. Or someone . “Bastian! Love, are you naked?”
    “Naked? No. I’m working.” He heard the scrape of Bastian’s chair, then his lover’s face appeared, long, long black hair softening the sharp lines. “Great Light! You’re filthy!”
    He laughed and held open his arms. “I’m needing a hug.”
    “Oh, no.” Bastian chuckled, started backpedaling.
    “Oh, yes. Take off your clothes and come get a nice hug and a good long kiss.” He gave Bastian a grin. “I’m serious, Precious.”
    Those odd eyes, grey ringed by grey, searched his, and he could see Bastian trying to decide whether to bolt or give in. He raised an eyebrow. He was tired beneath the mud and the playfulness, but if he had to punish Bastian for disobedience rather than play with the mud, he would.
    “You look tired.” Bastian started unbuttoning his orange working shirt, staying out of arms reach.
    “It was a long day. It’s been a long week.” He purred as Bastian’s fine skin slowly became visible. He was glad Bastian had chosen to stay.
    “It has, but it’s over, and you have free days.” He received a smile, filled with quiet warmth. “I have cleared my schedule for you.”
    “Excellent. We can play. Did that new flogger come in?” He almost relented on the mud-hug, but Bastian’s pale skin was clean and smooth and just begged to be dirtied. And then they could shower together.
    “There were some packages in the delivery, but I didn’t look through them.” Bastian smiled at him, cheeks pinking. “I got lost in making the little chairs for the McManis order.”
    “We shall have to go through them together later,” he murmured, holding his arms out. “Now quit stalling and come greet me properly.”
    “I must love you.” Bastian came toward him, hands landing on his chest to squish through the mud.
    He chuckled, wrapping his arms around Bastian and rubbing them together. “You don’t want to be slick for me, Precious?”
    Bastian laughed, nose wrinkled, head held back and away. “You’re slimy, not slick, Augie.”
    “Maybe we’re just not rolling around enough.”
    He heeled off his boots and grabbed Bastian’s ass, lifting the long body up off the floor and walking them toward the bathroom. “Now give me a proper kiss.”
    Bastian leaned in carefully, lips soft and warm against his own, tongue sliding in to taste him. He purred, sucking on Bastian’s tongue.
    Once they were in the bright, blue-toned bathroom, he set Bastian back down, hands sliding up along Bastian’s spine and rolling the long body against him to spread the mud. He got a little squeak, Bastian laughing and moaning all at once.
    It was only a matter of shifting and walking sideways and then they were both in the shower stall where he could push Bastian up against the wall and rub some more. Then he stepped back, grinning.