"This is all stupid Ranta's fault."

Manato reaches back to ruffle Haruhiro's hair affectionately before returning to lock the bath door. "We were there too."

Haruhiro glances over at the ruined wall. Last night it had been an unremarkable barrier of plaster and mud with a hole for a window. Last night Ranta had sat on Mogzo's shoulders and put his full weight against it so he could peep in through said window (while Haruhiro and Manato had stood in the background and done nothing incriminating). Today the girls were no longer on speaking terms with them and the hole had been boarded up with wood that they had to pay for.

In short, the guys were running low on coppers. They had to be even more frugal with their money now, which meant less food and less bathing. Well, the food became less of an issue after Yume burned the breakfast eggs; she reluctantly asked Mogzo to resume cooking duties and provided the funds out of her own pocket.

But… baths. Personally, that is the hardest part. It just seems like something that should happen every day, right? This is all Ranta's fault, yet Haruhiro and Manato are paying for it. To add insult to injury, Ranta had promptly declared that Dread Knights are at their best covered in dirt and sweat and goblin blood and is currently snoring the night away.

Manato wraps an arm around Haruhiro and hugs him briefly. "Don't let Ranta get you down," he smiles. "We got a silver from today's goblin. We'll get more in the next couple days, and by next week we won't need to resort to doing this anymore."

This. This is what he and Manato have decided to do. Assuming they can take down a goblin every two or three days, Manato did some calculations and determined that the guys could, at Ranta's tenacious insistence, eat a little protein with every meal as long as they only took baths every other day. Haruhiro hadn't said anything, but Manato was amazing and picked up on his uneasiness anyways. He'd said that because their inn charged for bath time and not per person, they could easily bath every day if they shared the bath.

So that's why Haruhiro is currently in the bath room while Manato fills the large tub with steamy water. The tub is spacious enough to fit two people, maybe three if they squeezed together. If two people sat at opposite ends of the bath and stretched their legs out, their feet would brush against the other's thigh. But if they crossed their legs, there should be plenty of room. Yume and Shihoru had enough space to wash their hair and bodies last night without getting embarrassed, so it's not like two guys can't do the same, right?

Why is he so nervous? Why is his face so hot when Manato turns to face him?

"Eh…" Manato turns away. "Would you like to get in first? I won't look."

"Y-Yeah," Haruhiro says. He really does feel better when Manato isn't looking. Why? It's not like Manato hasn't seen a lot of him already. He's had scratches all over his abdomen, bloody gashes on his legs, injuries on his arms—all wounds that Manato handled with the gentlest hands right before he stitched them back up with white magic. Manato's eyes have been all over his body before. Why is Haruhiro so afraid now?

He's almost tempted to jump in the bath still wearing his underwear. The water might still be hot from the fire though, plus there are enough tears in the underclothing that it might not make a difference anyways. He covers his face with his hands. He's going to have to take it off.

Manato doesn't say a word. Manato might as well not be there at all, so Haruhiro takes a deep breath before shedding the garment. He skitters over to the tub and cautiously tests the waters. It is very hot, almost painfully so, but in his experience it cools down pretty fast so right now the temperature is almost perfect. It would be perfect if he wasn't so mortified. Manato could be staring at his naked butt right now. A paranoid glance over his shoulder tells him that Manato hasn't moved, but just the possibility is enough to make Haruhiro burn in shame.

No, stop. Stop being so paranoid. He steels his nerves and slips the rest of the way in, ignoring the searing heat that instantly works its way into his body. He freezes until his body readjusts to the new environment. "Okay, Manato."

"Alright," the other boy nods. Corded muscle ripples in his arms and abdomen as he sheds his shirt and pants in short order. It reminds Haruhiro of his decision back when Mogzo had been snatched up by Raghill and their party of five was trying to decide who should be the Warrior. Haruhiro had voted for Manato because he'd been the strongest then. But then Ranta threw a fit about being the cool and tough fighter and Manato had given it up to be the Priest instead. And then stupid Ranta changed his mind and became a Dread Knight without telling anybody… but that's getting off the point. From body type alone, Manato could have easily become a Warrior.

Manato takes off his undergarment and Haruhiro has been so busy thinking that he doesn't look away in time. The hot water doesn't even reach up past his armpits but his face and neck feel like they're burning. He would sink beneath the surface of the water if he could, but Manato's feet are sliding into the tub and don't look up don't look up—

He squeezes his eyes shut until Manato playfully nudges his foot into Haruhiro's thigh. "Am I really that ugly?" he teases.

"Ah, n-n-no! It's not like that!" Haruhiro forces himself to look in Manato's face. That lasts for all of two seconds before his eyes dip downwards. Manato's pectorals are so defined that there is a clear line down the center of his chest. The recently disturbed bathwater laps at his pert nipples. Haruhiro immediately shuts his eyes again. "I-I was just th-thinking… you should have been the Warrior."

"It's a good thing Ranta was so insistent, huh? And that we found Mogzo when we did." The other boy grins. "It all worked out in the end!" He sinks down into the bath with a contented sigh, which pushes his knees up and out of the water. If he were to stretch his legs, he might accidentally touch—

Haruhiro shuts down this train of thought instantly. Seeing that Manato's still waiting for an answer, he agrees quietly. Yeah, Mogzo does have the body for a Warrior, plus he's large and strong enough to actually swing around that massive bastard sword. But now that stupid Ranta's broken the bath room wall, they can't even afford the armor to actually cover Mogzo up so he can tank hits. With only leather guards as protection, he's just as vulnerable as the rest of them. If they didn't have Manato with them and calling out orders, Ranta would have an arrow up his butt and Ranta's demon would be making inappropriate jokes and Haruhiro might actually be okay with that, except he'd also be dead along with the rest of the team.

"You're still almost a tank though," Haruhiro insists. "You're up front almost as much as Mogzo and you use your staff to bash goblins over the head almost as much as you heal us." He sinks a little into the water and doesn't vocalize that he thinks those smash attacks are supposed to be defensive moves. But he's a Thief and not a Priest, and Manato uses the moves offensively and it's worked well within their team dynamic so far, so why stop?

"But I couldn't do that without you supporting me." Warm waves crash against Haruhiro's chest as Manato abruptly surges forward into a kneeling position. Sheets of water cascade off his sleek torso; droplets get caught in the ridges of his abdominals as he reseats himself in the space between Haruhiro's feet, causing Haruhiro to draw his legs up like a shield to cover his body.

"We work well because we work as a team," continues Manato. He's rubbed a little soap powder into a cloth so it forms a sudsy lather and is currently cleansing his body with it, sweeping up the grimy sweat that's accumulated under his arms and along the sides of his body. "You're able to cover areas I can't hope to reach, and I can do the same for you. In that way, we're stronger united than the each of us individually."

Mesmerized, Haruhiro watches as Manato's washcloth forms bubbly trails from the slender arch of his neck, past the meat of his shoulder and down the sinew of his forearm. He folds an arm behind his head to clean under the limb and inadvertently flexes his bicep; Haruhiro's eyes follow the soapy water that travel down his torso until they hit the water. The bubbles obscure everything beneath Manato's belly button, everything but a dark trail of hair that leads—

"Haruhiro?"

"H-H-Huh?" He was not looking there. His eyes were closed. Still are closed!

"I can't reach my back. Can you cover that for me?" There's a wide grin on Manato's face, as if he's just made some grand analogy that Haruhiro didn't hear because he was too busy thinking of dirty things! Is this what the inside of Ranta's head is like? No wonder Ranta's so self-absorbed and insensitive! This is the worst! "Haruhiro?"

"Um, yeah!" He shifts until his back is straight. "What do you need me to do?"

Manato hands the cloth over. "Can you wash my back?"

Haruhiro eagerly accepts the washcloth. His heart stutters a little when, in turning around, Manato lifts his torso just a little too much. He can hear his own heartbeat but he doesn't think about it too much because the broad expanse of Manato's back is waiting and all he has to do is reach forward…

Manato's skin is smooth and warm. Haruhiro revels in the sensation of muscles shifting minutely under his fingertips.

"Harder."

"W-What?"

Manato's head turns slightly. He can hear the encouraging smile in the other boy's voice. "Gotta rub me a little harder if we're going to get the dirty stuff out."

Haruhiro blushes and applies a bit more pressure. This requires him to sit closer, and wow, he can actually feel Manato's body heat radiating onto the skin of his shins and inner thighs. He focuses on scrubbing until the other boy grunts in satisfaction. When he's gotten every area, he cups water in his hands and pours it over Manato's back—until Manato promptly leans back, his head practically landing in Haruhiro's lap, and submerges himself briefly.

"There we go!" Manato declares, seemingly oblivious of Haruhiro's furious blush. "Here, let me do you."

"Huh?" Did his voice just crack there? What is he, twelve?

"Turn around," urges Manato. He pretty much obeys out of habit. "I've got your back covered."

He still wants to object, but Manato's hands are just as gentle as when he heals wounds yet they move in swift and confident strokes that are never too rough. Actually, they feel pretty nice. Like, wow. It's like Manato is petting his entire back affectionately, it feels that nice. He doesn't realize he's leaning back into the touch until Manato chuckles.

He self-consciously scoots forward until Manato's fingers curl around his scrawny shoulders. "Wait," Manato protests, "I'm not done yet."

Haruhiro blushes. "You're not making fun of me?"

"Why would I do that? I'll be the first to admit that it can feel pretty comfortable." He splashes some water onto Haruhiro's backside. "Com'on, let me finish."

Slowly, Haruhiro relaxes back until he's within reach again. Manato scoots closer, even going so far as to stretch his legs on either side of Haruhiro. Haruhiro arches his back in pleasure when Manato's hands massage the deep muscle of his back. He slumps forward when fingers work circles around his tense shoulders. He gasps a little and grabs for the nearest steadying surface when Manato begins to knead his back, a strong yet gentle pressure that loosens muscles that've been taut all day. Slowly, over the course of the next few minutes, he becomes aware that his hands are wrapped around Manato's ankles and that he's been pulling Manato closer, so close that he can feel every breath upon his back. He feels warm even in the cooling water, safe within Manato's almost full embrace—

Three hard raps on the door break him of his reverie. "Oi!"

Haruhiro startles forward frantically, but Manato maintains his cool and replies, "Yes?"

It's the innkeeper. "You have two minutes left!"

Haruhiro's halfway out of the bath before Manato pulls him back down. "You still have soap on your body," he says. "I'll leave first. Then you'll have enough room to wash yourself off."

Haruhiro nods and Manato smiles. Then he turns and clambers out of the tub and Haruhiro's left staring at his naked butt and the flaccid—

He ducks himself underwater and wills himself to drown or otherwise disappear. Hopefully before the bathwater is reboiled by the strength of his blush.

As if his days could become any stranger, Yume talks to him again the next morning.

"Yume wants to say that she forgives you."

He's not sure if he's heard right. "Eh?"

Yume refuses to make eye contact with him. There's a slight flush to her cheeks, though he's not even sure why. "Yume says we're even now! You too, Manato!"

Haruhiro jumps when Manato's hand lands on his shoulder. "What's this?" grins Manato.

Yume turns a smile upon them that is so brilliant that Haruhiro has to squint underneath its power. "Yume can't speak for Shihoru, but Yume is sure Shihoru feels the same way."

She's gone faster before he can ask what she's talking about.

Manato is still smiling though, so it must be a good thing, right?

A/N: Three chapters total, with subsequent chapters getting increasingly dirtier ;)

Though we all know how this is going to end.