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“Room for two," Len says salaciously, waggling his eyebrows in a way that no one in their right mind would find seductive.
Tommy waits outside while Len showers, perched awkwardly on the bed. It’d feel wrong, being relaxed in a hotel room, especially one shared with someone else — their budget’s so tight they could only afford the one.
And, well. Not like it's the first time they've shared a bed.
He listens to Len singing in the shower — the entirety of Bohemian Rhapsody, including the guitar and piano bits. He takes liberties with the pitch but it still makes Tommy smile.
Eventually he emerges, hair frizzy from being towel-dried. He's got a stripey blue t-shirt on over his boxers.
He looks Tommy up and down — sat awkwardly, fully dressed. Shoes still on.
“Come on, then," he says gently. "Do you need—”
“Don't touch me," Tommy snaps, but he takes his clothes off anyway, Len watching with those puppy dog eyes.
When he's down to his vest and pants, staring at the floor, Len frowns. “What's up with you today?"
Tommy knows better than to lie to him.
“Are you— you know. Clean."
Len gasps, puts his hand on his chest in mock offence. “Tommy, I've just got out of the shower!"
Tommy scowls. “You know what I mean."
“I've not been with anyone but you, Tommy," Len says, tone serious. He approaches slowly, then touches Tommy's face. "Promise.”
“I believe you," Tommy says, nodding shakily. It was in the news again today — rising death toll. Still no cure.
Len smiles ruefully, then rummages in his suitcase and pulls out a pack of condoms.
“Here, I brought— but we don't have to. I'm happy with just a kiss and a cuddle.”
“Well, I’m not," Tommy says, smiling, yanking at Len's t-shirt.