“Tough.” Kirk winked then took Tony’s glasses, setting them on the kitchen counter. “You won’t need these.”
“Humm. Blurry is you, now.”
“Probably an improvement.” Taking Tony’s hands, Kirk walked backwards toward the bedroom—until he stumbled into one of the end tables. “Well, that didn’t go as planned,” he grumbled, righting it. “Good thing there was nothing on it.”
Tony broke out laughing, feeling his stress abate, which he was certain was what Kirk had intended. He put his hands on Kirk’s shoulders, steering him the rest of the way to the bedroom. When they got there, Tony was washed with a wave of shyness. It was one thing, sharing his bed with Kirk to sleep, with both of them wearing sweats—or to take off his shirt so Kirk could put fresh bandages on his wounds. It was quite another to strip naked in front of him with the intention of getting very up close and personal.