Kyle's eyebrow probably can't go any higher. "Simon. Relax."
Simon, automatically starts square breathing. "'m fine."
He's not fine. Kyle's paid for them to have a very nice day at the spa, and he's panicking. There's soothing music playing from hidden speakers that may as well be claxons and gunfire, as far as he's concerned.
"Simon. Babes. We don't have to go in if you don't want to."
"I want to." He doesn't.
"We're just starting in the sauna," Kyle reminds him, like they're not gonna be starkers in a room with other people. "Just 10 minutes. Then a rinse and into the thermal pools, yeah?"
Simon nods. He does remember. And he does like the sound of it. The heat on his muscles, seeing his boyfriend getting slick with sweat. The promised relaxation of a nice float in cool water. But after...
"Don't want that little old lady to beat on me," he mumbles.
"Then you have to relax," Kyle reminds him. "Otherwise the only way you'll feel the massage later is if she beats on you. And didn't you feel better afterward, last time?"
He had felt better. Thoroughly cowed and oddly aroused, but better. Still, he says, "I don't want the mud."
"Simon. You love the mud."
Fuckin' 'ell, he does. He always feels so nice afterward. "I don't want the cucumbers."
"Then tell the therapist you don't want them to cover your eyes." Kyle has the patience of a saint. Probably because he is looking forward to the hot stones and pampering instead of approaching it with nothing but dread.