[C] Meet me?

Fleck shushed him gently. "Sneaky."

He leaned forwards again when his hair was released, tip of his tongue teasing over the head of his cock before taking it into his mouth.

He sucked, eyes sliding closed as he too in more of him.

A low groan came from closed lips. His paranoia slipped away the more of him was taken in until all he could focus on was a single point.

Eyes shut, he tilted his head back. All the way back, the wall didn't come up high enough to support him.

"Fleck," he didn't say his name like a curse, but like a moan.

The free hand skimmed over Fleck's shoulder and along his arm to seek out his hand to intertwine their fingers.

He focused on the task at hand, eagerly sucking on Dick's cock. One hand curled around Dick's tattooed thigh, gripping him as he pleasured him.

Their fingers tangled together in a clumsy hold of hands.

He kept an ear open for anyone that would come into the changing room. He knew someone would appear sooner or later.

Adrenaline still pumped through his veins. His breathing quickened. His moans and whimpers became more frequent. His hips rolled in and out of Fleck's mouth in a sure and steady motion.

There was the familiar tightness coiling inside him.

Fuck.

His eyes were wide as he looked down at Fleck. They could have been anywhere. He could only focus on one thing.

"Fuck, Fleck, I'm going to-" He bit his lip, a little unwilling to admit it.

Fleck's eyes were wild as he sucked harder, staring back up into Dick's.

His hand gripped Dick's firmly as he sucked.

Come, his gaze goaded. He wanted Dick to come. Before he dared to think about what could happen if someone else came into the room.

Dick held Fleck's hair tight as he came deep into his mouth; back arched and pushing into the cubicle wall. There was a light groan.

He let go of his lower lip, panting. A little bit of blood welled from where he scraped it against his teeth. He slumped.

"Fuck."

He swallowed eagerly, and pulled back when Dick slumped.

His hand came up to wipe his mouth. He stayed wher ehe was, kneeling at Dick's feet.

"You need practice being sneaky," Fleck told his boyfriend. Dick was terrible at sneaky.

The comment ruined his high a little.

He narrowed his eyes at Fleck, lips parting, ready to argue that Fleck had purposefully made it difficult for him. That he was equally terrible at being sneaky. No, not equally. Worse.

His hand shot out and he turned the tap to freezing.

Fleck was perfectly good at being sneaky when he needed to. He just liked drawing out reactions, too.

The sudden cold water made Fleck jump and scramble away from the spray, backing roughly into the door.

"Asshole!"

He shivered violently as he pawed for the lock.

Dick grabbed Fleck's waist and pulled him back. A far too innocent smile on his face.

"Shh! You have to be sneaky!"

He crackled as he took a few steps back until the tap pressed into his back, making his boyfriend get the brunt of the spray. It was cold. Very cold. But for Dick, it was more refreshing than anything else.

Fleck wriggled and pushed ad Dick's arms to try and get away from him.

"You're a fucking asshole," he whined, still trying hard to get away from him, and failing miserably.

Why was his boyfriend so evil?

"Says the one who got my clothes wet."

He watched the much bigger man squirm.

"At least you can put on some nice dry clothes."

Satisfied that he tortured his boyfriend long enough, he let him go. A few steps were taken forward beforehand so his boyfriend wouldn't fall over by the force of his own tugging.

Fleck did stumble, but managed to keep himself upright. 

He slinked away from Dick, unlocking the door and moving out to the bench, glaring at Dick over his shoulder like a grumpy wet cat.

"I don't even feel guilty about it anymore," he stated as he moved towards his pile of clothes, pawing through them for the key to his locker.

Dick stayed in the cubicle and grinned as Fleck glared at him. Worth it.

His eyes lingered on Fleck making his way to the locker. Then something clicked.

"Wait, did you bring clean clothes?"

His tone was hopeful.

"None that'll find their way into your little gremlin hands."

He pulled out his towel and began roughly drying himself off, his body first, then working on his dark hair.

"You can have my sweaty gym stuff if you want." He wouldn't call them clean, nor dry, actually, but they were better than Dick's sopping wet clothes.

Dick tried his hand at the best puppy dog face he could manage, peering over the cubicle wall.

Now he was having regrets about getting his own back.

"Fleck, out of the two evils, yours was worst. I made sure you didn't have any clothes on." He paused. "Plus, you did bite me."

Fleck just shook his head as Dick whined, rooting through his bag for deodorant.

"Biting you turned you on, so you can't complain about it."

Deodorant applied, he tossed it back into his bag and pulled out a neatly folded bundle of clothing. He shook them out, pulling on his boxers and then his jeans.

Heat rushed to Dick's cheeks. He opened his mouth. Then closed his mouth. Then let out a little grumble. Fleck was already pulling on his clothes.

He lifted an arm over the wall, defeated.

"Pass me your disgusting, sweaty clothes then, that I have to put on my own clean body."

"Enjoy them. Leo was pushing me, so they're particularly fruity."

He balled them up, and tossed them towards his boyfriend.

Then he pulled on his own shirt, tutting when he did. "Aw, shit." The shirt clung to him, clearly not his own much looser preference. "The old dear must have put one of Jay's in my pile."

Usually he caught that one, but he clearly hadn't this time.

The shirt barely fit him, clinging in a way he didn't really enjoy. It showed off a lot more muscle than his own shirts did.

Dick didn't pay too much attention as he dried and put on Fleck smelly, oversized clothes with a grumble. He pulled on the pull strings on the shorts until they looked particularly ridiculous, but they didn't threaten falling down his hips.

It was a look fine when lounging around at Fleck's. But when walking around in broad daylight back home? He was slightly mortified.

With a tut of his own, he opened the door.

"I can't believe I'm going to have to walk home- oh."

His eyes roamed openly over Fleck's torso. The far too tight shirt flattering on him. That last time he had seen him like this was when he gave him his Nicio's shirt. That was before London.

"You need to wear stuff like that more often."

His skin was hot at his own honesty.

Fleck turned his gaze to Dick.

"I'm not wearing my brother's clothes all the time."

He wasn't too comfortable wearing such tight clothing. He much preferred his own looser and more comfortable clothing.

Dick's eyes lingered, dilated. he just had to appreciate what was in front of him now and ingrain it to memory.

He walked over to Fleck, picking up his own sopping clothing along the way, wringing it out. He rolled them out in a towel and set them aside. his attention was back on Fleck. There was a slither of skin on show between his jeans and the tight shirt. He ran his thumb along it, impulsively.

He watched Dick as Dick watched him.

His stomach muscles rolled when Dick's thumb swiped over the skin between his shirt and jeans.

"You need to stop drooling."

"I'm not drooling."

It pained him, but let his hand drop down to his side.

"We should probably leave. It already looks suspicious with how long we have been in here."

He curled a wet lock behind his ear as he turned his attention to the door. Maybe he just felt suspicious because he knew that they have done something suspicious.

"You'll catch your death if you leave like that."

He swiped up his towel again and dropped it on to of Dick's head. Then he rubbed vigorously.

That was going to make Dick's hair ridiculously frizzy, but he didn't want Dick to get ill going out in the cold (well, cold for Sicily) winter air with wet hair.