Warm water clattered over them, and Hibiki hugged Tristan tightly. Even then the door barely closed behind them, as for all the hotel's luxury, it was still a small French bathroom. Whilst the water washed away the worst of his crimes, Hibiki planted apologetic kisses on Tristan's neck.

"You liked doing that, didn't you?" Tristan asked softly, now he had regained his senses. He nodded rather meekly against his chest, and then gave a deep and apologetic bow of his head.

"It's fine." Tristan responded as he ran his fingers through his hair. "It's just… hard to clean?" Encouraged somewhat by Tristan's response, he glanced down at what was left and nodded. There was no use pretending that he didn't enjoy that knowledge in some ways.

But he knew it was wrong to do so without taking into account what Tristan wanted, especially after everything said before. He leant back and gave Tristan two reassuring pats on his heart, to say that he would take care of his needs better. Tristan smiled at him, and he grinned back glad to see he hadn't upset him as much as he feared.

"Perhaps… we could use condoms next time?" The suggestion disappointed him ever so slightly, but he understood why, and to some degree he agreed that it would mean there was less of a hassle.

"It's not that I don't want you to like it." A hint of anxiety snuck into Tristan's voice, as he noticed his disappointment. Hearing him struggle with the desire to please him, Hibiki's expression softened. He put his hand on Tristan's cheek, whilst the other drew a big heart on his chest, and then followed with two firm pokes hoping to convey that he liked him either way. Tristan nodded and smiled, but then his expression faltered as he continued to explain.

"I just think it'll be a little easier for me if it's not filthy. I sort of liked it too but,- now I feel ashamed for that. When it's not so messy I can get used to it, and we can maybe do it a bit more often…"

The last words made him grin widely, and he considered that a benefit more than anything: he didn't mind using condoms if it meant he got to do this more often. He gave Tristan a firm kiss, gladly accepting that offer. Deciding that it was best not to linger on the subject, he then took one of the tiny bottles of shampoo and proceeded to slather Tristan's hair with most of the contents.

Once they had showered and cleaned up, Hibiki sat down on the tiny bathroom counter and pulled Tristan's hand up like he had done every evening they were together. The ointment was nearly finished, and the blisters had closed and begun to heal properly, but he still wanted to do it. Despite his impatience and impulsive desires, he'd faithfully helped him when he had the opportunity.

Using both his thumbs, he gently rubbed until all the salve had been absorbed – and then he just held his hand. Tristan smiled and leant in, and he took the opportunity to softly kiss his forehead.

"I like this. When we're doing calm and nice things…" Tristan admitted with a nod to himself. "Thank you for taking care of me."

Without hesitation he gave Tristan a happy little peck on the lips, grinning and nodding as he pulled away.

"When we get there, will you teach me how to ski?" A glint of enthusiasm graced Tristan's face. It made him smile widely too, excited by the prospect of spending the next week like that.

"That way you can take me along again next year." There was no particular requirement of being able to ski, for him to take Tristan along anyway – but the idea of sticking together until the next year made his chest glow. He nodded to say that he would; both teach him and take him along.

"Is it difficult?" 

He has to think about the question for a little bit, since in some ways it was, and others it wasn't. He held up his hand and made the wavering gesture to say it depended.

"Well, you get to help me up whenever I fall."

Although Tristan said it flirtily he grabbed both of his hands, clasping them tightly and shaking his head to say he wouldn't ever let him get hurt.

"You won't be able to hold my hands forever though."

He puffed up his cheeks and slid his fingers between Tristan's to hold him even tighter. Defiantly he kissed him, not planning on ever letting go.

"Would you?" Tristan asked between kisses. He squeezed his hands and wrapped his legs around him for good measure. 

"Promise?"

He nodded through kissing, as he had nothing else left to swear such an oath with. But he wanted to, and not just out of lust or to please him. The idea of sticking together felt right, as deep inside he knew Tristan resonated with him through more than just attraction.

"You feel so good it hurts." He nodded again to say he knew, his heart so full of care and love and desire that it ached. 

"I know I'm difficult…" Tristan stammered rather suddenly, and he immediately shook his head to deny that. "I am. You can't say I'm not. I'm always scared and confused, because everything I was taught is wrong. I'm terrified I'll go to hell for liking you, even when I don't really believe in it – even when I know I don't deserve it." Tristan took a deep breath and looked up at him intently, before continuing. "All these years they messed with my mind and my heart. They told me that God would love me if I just prayed, but,- now when I'm with you I know what love is meant to be like, and I know they lied about that too. But that fear just lingers…"

Tristan's head sank against his chest, and he rested his own head on top without letting go. He didn't want to stop this, even though on the surface it sounded like Tristan was rambling – he recognised what it was like when a bit of deep pain was cast off. So he held him tightly and let him wrestle the thoughts out of his mind.

"All I want is some peace and care. It doesn't matter what you give me, what you do to me – just love me. Love me, so every time I remember mum screaming at me that nobody else ever will, I know it's not true. She doesn't love me. She just hurt me,- she hurt me and told me it was my fault! How's that any focking fair?! It's not my fault,- it's not,- I'm not,-"

Tristan shook his head against him, as his angry outburst devolved into deep sobs. He didn't even know what to feel anymore in response, as all sorts of love, gnawing fear,a deep sense of anger, and guilt because he couldn't help but feel he caused this filled him – but through all of that came understanding. Because he truly did. 

Whilst Tristan clung to him, and let out deep, ugly cries, he made sure to hold him close. There was so much he wanted him to hear; that he'd tell him about if only he could so he'd know he wasn't alone. Instead he just softly nodded against the top of his head, and waited out the sobs. Slowly they devolved into rapid, panicked breaths as he ran out of tears. He made sure to hold him and run his thumbs along his hands in a gentle rhythm. Until finally Tristan settled down into slow, painful breathing as he ran out of sadness too.

"I'm sorry… I,-" As Tristan began to stammer, he adamantly shook his head to say that he didn't need to apologise. Tristan nodded and eased the tight grip on his fingers. For a second he opened and closed his fingers just to get blood back into them. He let go with one and placed it on Tristan's face to make him look up. Without hesitation he wiped away all the tears and whatever else his trauma had dragged along on the way out. Realising his hand didn't quite do the job, he grabbed one of the nearby towels. When he was done, he gave Tristan a big kiss on his forehead, followed by a firm nod.

"I didn't mean to do that." Tristan answered, a bit distant and pale now he'd fully come down. 

He recognised that sense of shame, and the tiredness that settled in after such an outburst. Rather than pushing it further, he hopped off the counter and gave him a gentle hug. His one hand still held Tristan's, and he used it to lead him back to the bedroom.

Slowly he laid him down on the bed, laying beside him on his side. Keeping his promise, at least for a little while, he once more entwined his fingers with Tristan's and gave him a soft kiss on his forehead. A small smile graced Tristan, before he leant forward against his chest.

"Sleep well 'Biki." Tristan mumbled softly, and he answered with a squeeze of his hands.

Good night babe.