snippet from Blue Sky Lodge, work safe

If there's anything we can do to make your stay pleasant..."
"I just need to get my bags to the room. My, uh, boyfriend is blind. He's comforted by having his things." Something that smelled right. Felt normal.
"Absolutely. I'll have them sent right now."
"Thank you." He smiled. Shit, he didn't know how to be all rich bitch and shit. He just knew he needed to get Jamie settled.
The guy smiled back, though, like it was no big thing, and maybe it wasn't. Shit, he didn't know.
As it was, he barely remembered to tip the cute little stoner who delivered their bags. Jamie sat on the bed, holding himself very still. When the door closed behind the bellhop, Clay went to unpack Jamie's pillow.
He wasn't even sure Jamie was breathing, he was so fucking still.
"Babe? How about the hot tub?" That would relax all those stiff muscles.
"Is it in here or out by a pool?"
"It's on our little deck. No one can see." They could go in naked. Apparently they really disinfected between guests. Just in case.
"Okay." Jamie unzipped his coat, took his hat off and held it in his hands.
"Here, babe." He took the hat, setting it on the dresser. "The dresser is about three steps from the bed. Kinda tight because the bed is so big."
"Okay. Where's the bathroom?"
"To your left facing like you are now. About four feet. There's a shower, a sink thingee, and the toilet has its own little stall."
Jamie nodded once, then stood. "Did you pack bathing suits?"
"I did, but I have no idea which bag they're in." That was obvious, he knew, but he had to try.
"They're not in the duffle." One of the things they'd taught Jamie in rehab was how to pack a bag, pack his wallet.
"No. No, they're probably in the wheelie. We could go without." He took Jamie's hand, rubbing his thumb over the back.
Jamie stopped still again, eyes closed, breath almost non-existent.
"Babe? I'm..." Shit. No, he wasn't sorry, damn it. He wanted to do it with his boyfriend in the hot tub. There was not one damned thing wrong with that.
The coat and hat were gone, so he started on the sweater and shirt. "Come on, babe."
"It's okay. It felt good."
"Yeah?" He let his fingers trail over Jamie's collarbones. "So do you. I mean, your skin."
Jamie pinked a little, swallowed. "You don't have to do this. I know it's got to be a little like fucking Frankenstein."
"Oh, ew. Frankenstein was a doctor. You know how many germs those guys carry?" He chuckled, kissing the tip of Jamie's nose. "You? You're more like art."