A little taken aback, Gaemir blinks as well, tilting his head at Jaim. 

"...Sure," he smiles. 

He nods, reaching out to take Gaemir's hand and pull him down from the stool, leading him out of the barroom and upstairs. 

He pats Bar as they leave.

 ...Gaemir: just as cooperative about being led places as Jaim probably expected.

Yep. 

Once inside the room, he glances longingly at the bed, but then notices the other door - presumably to a bathroom. 

"...I meant to rinse off and then have a soak, before I ended up here," he comments. "I think I'd still like to do that." 

"Mind some company?" 

"...No, but. I really don't have the energy for..." he trails off, blushing a little bit.

"That's fine," he shrugs, eyeing the blush with a smile. He blushes, he knows, but not at things like 'sharing a bath'. It's cute. 

Into the bathroom, then. He strips off his clothes, piling them on the small counter next to the sink. Belt, wraps, shirt, pants. Then he goes to examine the bath-shower set up. 

Gaemir strips off as well, taking a bit longer than Jaim to get out of his leathers.

 When he looks up, Jaim is peering at the taps on the bathtub, his back to Gaemir. He gets a eyefull of the very obviously purposeful, somewhat messy scarring all over his upper and part of his lower back. 

Seen from a distance, with enough time to get a good look, they look something like wings.

...Wow, what in Oblivion happened there, he doesn't ask. Asking about scars is Rude. He does come up behind Jaim and set a hand on his back, gently, ready to pull away if he reacts badly. 

Jaim glances up at him and smiles, "I think these taps work roughly the same way as the ones in my world," he says. He offers no reaction to the hand on his back other than a twitch of his shoulders. 

Alright, that's good, he hopes. 

"Well, start it up, then, I guess." He does not recognise the taps and such, though it doesn't look too difficult to figure out. 

He gets the showerhead running, and they both get in, Jaim rinsing off while Gaemir leans back against the other wall and watches thoughtfully. 

"Are you going to stand over there watching the whole time," Jaim asks absently.

"Hm, no," Gaemir agrees. He moves forward, coming up behind Jaim, resting a hand on his waist. "Want some help?"

Jaim huffs, amused, "As you please," he says, glancing back at Gaemir.

Gaemir will help, then, taking the cloth from Jaim's hands. He will also... shoulder kiss?

Jaim tenses a bit under his hands. "Not right now, I said-"

"I'm not angling for that, don't worry," Gaemir murmurs, "Just..." He steps up closer so his front is pressed all along Jaim's back, "Let me be nice to you?" 

Jaim doesn't really know what he means by that, but...

He nods, slowly relaxing back against Gaemir. 

Gaemir will be nice to him, then. 

Meanwhile, down in the barroom, the door opens again. 

She steps inside, attention focused on her visor, and then immediately stops short as her suit informs her of the change in surroundings. 

She peers around, taking in the supernovae through the window, the near-emptiness of the barroom - aside from a half-empty glass of some pale liquid, and an almost empty cup of tea - and the complete lack of flame residue. 

"Strange," she murmurs. This is either the work of a very powerful Mist, or something entirely out of her experience. 

If it's a Mist, she won't be getting out of this by simply stepping back out of the door. Humming to herself, she chooses to continue on into the room, stepping up to the bar. 

"Someone must have been here recently," she notes, placing her hand over the tea and noting that it's still radiating some heat. "But where is this?" 

Explanation via napkin!

Huh.

"And the drinks belong to the two other versions of me upstairs?" She asks. "Interesting. I don't suppose you know when they'll be back?"