After dinner, Zay went upstairs, took a shower, and then changed into a pair of sleep pants.

Paul heard the shower running after he had washed up the dishes and stacked them to dry. He came up the stairs and leaned against the bathroom door, towel in hand. When Zay appeared, he held the towel open and wrapped his lover in it, pulling him close and kissing his freshly washed hair.

“You smell good.” Paul nuzzled his neck.

Zay made a sort of ill tempered non-commental noise, sort of along the lines of "Hn". "Came up here to check on me didn't you." He couldn't help the petulant tone in his voice.

“I am not checking on you,” Paul replied, and tapped Zay’s bare thigh warningly. “And I would watch that tone, if I were you.”

"Hn. Can't I at least get a little practice time in? Maybe a half hour? A half hour wouldn't hurt."

“That can wait till tomorrow morning. Now get your hair dried and into bed. Quit stalling.”

"Fine. You go back downstairs and watch your travel documentaries. Don't give me a second thought, as I lie here staring at the ceiling, bored to death."

“I will be in the office; I need to finish up some paperwork. So no, I will not be enjoying myself downstairs while you languish here in exile. And the whole purpose of this exercise is to make you think about how you can avoid this happening in future, and not for you to whine and complain.” Paul grabbed Zay and kissed him deeply. “Umm ... don’t go to sleep so early, babe. I may want some company in a while.”

Zay climbed into bed and glared at Paul's back as he left the bedroom. Hmm. Paul might be finding HIS half of their bed a bit cold tonight. He phoned Suzy and told her to meet him at the practice room at 8, and then he lay there and stared at the ceiling. Ok. He'd gone to bed, like Paul ordered. He hadn't said anything specific about staying in the bed.