Dax did not move his hands from Chris's waist.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The steam was still clinging to Chris's skin, cooling slowly, his pulse finally settling now that nothing was demanding immediate composure.
"You didn't answer me earlier," Dax said at last, voice low.
Chris exhaled. "It's nothing; my brain is just overworked and staging a mutiny over what Adelaide Malek said."
Dax's thumbs shifted slightly at Chris's waist, waiting for his husband to speak. "That is not nothing," he said.
Chris let his head fall forward, forehead resting briefly against Dax's chest. The last of the heat left his skin in a slow shiver. "She didn't say anything," he clarified. "Well, she spoke, but what she implied about my parents makes me think some things."
Dax's jaw set, a quiet, contained motion. "What?"
