Eventually Mal takes a deep breath through his mouth and blows it out through his nose before pushing himself up onto his knees, dipping into a quick child’s pose, then settling onto his heels, palms pressed flat to the bed. Exactly like he had done after the gangbang. Rowan can’t help but wonder if the position is somehow grounding for him. A way of easing himself back into his surroundings.

Rowan’s suddenly aware of his own body, muscles sore like they are after a tough workout. He’ll definitely need to stretch later. He tenses his quads while still lying on his side, feeling the pearls of come and lube making his pubes stick to his groin. With a groan he rolls off the bed, knees wobbling a bit as his feet touch the floor, and grabs washcloths and water bottles for himself and Mal.

They hydrate and clean themselves off, Mal pulling a face as he wipes between his asscheeks, undoubtedly getting a cloth full of lube and Rowan’s come. Rowan’s never had someone come inside him before, but he knows how messy lube alone is and never envied his partners when they inevitably had to clean up Rowan’s mess themselves.

Now clean, they wipe and sanitize the bed together, considerably less messy this time than it had been after the gangbang. The ease of cleaning the leather pad almost makes Rowan wish he had one at home, but he still much prefers the softness of a real mattress and sheets to the somewhat clinical feeling of the pad.

Mal retrieves his clothing from the floor, giving them a cursory shake off while Rowan retrieves his own pile of clothing, partially from the bed and partially from the floor where they’d been knocked while he and Mal fucked.

Rowan throws on his briefs and tank top while he watches Mal turn his clothing right side out. The jockstrap hangs loose around his hips from where Rowan had stretched it out, and he feels a slight pang of guilt about it, even though Mal had told him he could pull on it. But he still doesn’t seem to mind, eventually pushing it off and letting it fall to the floor before crumpling it up and tossing it in the trash bin under the supply table.

“You hungry?” Mal asks as he comes back to the bed and scoops up his clothes.

“Starving.”

“Cool. Meet me at the bar in twenty.”

Rowan gives him a thumbs-up rather than replying verbally, which earns him an exaggerated eye roll as Mal turns to leave the room, this time fully naked.

He can’t help but balk. And admire the view of Mal’s backside as he swaggers out the door. Completely at ease. Confident. Rowan’s gone through phases of shame and pride in his own body throughout his life. Now he feels good. He’s healthy, not overexerting himself. Eating regularly. Taking his meds. Staying stable. Staying sane. And all that has led him to his current figure, toned in the ways he likes but with enough bulk to know he’s not going to wither away.