Chris is still smiling. It's fine. He can still feel his face and shoulders heating up. "Thank you, Chris." 

Chris kisses Marlo's temple. "Pretty boy."

A soft gasp. "Thank you, Chris." 

"Go put some clothes on." He pauses. "You may take as much time as you wish."

He nods. "Yes, Chris. Thank you, Chris." 

He gets clothes on. 

He takes four minutes to lean against the wall and get his breathing and heartbeat back to normal. Two more minutes to press the base of his hands into his eyes and calm down. 

He comes back out. 

Chris is eating a bowl of soup Greta brought as if none of that had just happened. 

He stands at attention and waits for Chris to need something. 

"Eat. Do you have any questions about the errors you made today?"

Might as well. 

"Was the last error failing to be quiet during my punishment?" 

"No. In fact, many owners appreciate hearing noises."

…Nod. 

"Thank you, Chris," he says. 

He eats. 

After dinner, Marlo has his hour of free time. 

Chris is reading about accounting. He doesn't seem to be paying attention, but as Marlo has previously learned, Chris not seeming to be paying attention will not prevent him from giving you a twenty-minute explanation of all your inadequacies.

He has more nervous energy than usual; it feels like there's a live current just under his skin. He tries to continue reading the book from yesterday; after ten minutes he decides this isn't going to get anywhere, does twelve push-ups, and tries again. 

"It is," Chris comments, "conventionally considered to be 'night' at this time."

— so it is. 

"Thank you, Chris," he says, and finds an empty room. 

He leans against the wall and closes his eyes and tries not to think too much. (He thinks anyway. About — the impact on his back, and nothing else.) 

When he's done, the thrumming under his skin is quiet. 

Chris doesn't comment when he returns.

He never really feels clean after he's done that. This time is no different.

He's able to concentrate on reading, now. 

Chris watches him for a bit.

...then stands up, walks over to him, and puts a hand in his hair.

"Good boy."

He melts into Chris's hand. "Thank you, Chris." 

Chris strokes his hair affectionately and a little possessively. 

A soft torn-off sound from the back of his throat. Marlo melts just a little more. 

Having his hair petted plausibly counts as a recreational activity!

Marlo isn't thinking about that right now. He's too focused on Chris's hands in his hair, on the way Chris is smiling. 

But yes, it does.