Loki sees the wounds and stops Paul long enough to drift his fingers curiously over their edges, worry flitting through his face, but he didn't ask about them yet, instead just telling Paul to stop hogging all the hot water and switch with him. It was hard to not kiss him again, to not grab his head and lovingly sucking face but Loki was sure that was too needy. That that was too far somehow.

He smiles crookedly as he takes the towel and starts drying off, eyes trained on Paul's shoulders as he moves and Loki follows like a shadow, feeling more like they were 15 again than anything else. That perfect golden hour of time they'd had before everything went back to shit. He laughs as the sweatpants hit him and catches them, leaving his towel draped over his shoulder.

The sweatpants are tugged on and the towel tossed back into the bathroom with a promise- "I'll clean up once I'm done sleeping-" with the intent behind it being 'don't you go doing it instead'. Loki moves towards the bed, happy to leave his shirt off and get up under the thin blanket that passed for cover over the cheap sheets.

"I hope you don't still snore like you used to." Lies; Loki had always snored heavier, being the heavier sleeper, but even after so many years, he would never admit to it.