“Y-yeah.  That’s a good idea.” Oh no this is actually super hot??

Misha is still scrubbing, going on four minutes now. Soap bubbles reach past his elbows and several cumulus tufts of them have fallen to the floor around his feet. All shall be soap.

"I'll, uh.  I'll just meet you in the guiding tent in a few minutes?"  He feels like he should be talking to Graviton more while he has Misha otherwise occupied, but.  Nothing's springing to mind.

... probably he shouldn't let Misha flood the world with soap.

"I'll get the couch warmed up for you."

She heads into the tent.

Okay, new rule.  No more fieldwork with partners this pretty.  Except Sara.  Sara's - focus.

Tim's going to see if he can gently take the soap away from Misha before Misha winds up cleaning the entire floor.  And get Misha rinsed off without descending into another comedy of errors.

Misha remains at his station, blissfully unaware of anything except the soap suds. His arms are bright red now from irritation, insofar as they are visible at all through the soap suds. He has stopped talking to himself, instead just staring downward intently.

Okay, it’s not really blissful. More like frustrated. He scowls periodically at his fingers and scrubs with greater vigor.

Then he'll quickly find guiding fingers taking away his soap, and rinsing off his forearms for him.  Firmly.

(Tim really just wants Misha guided down, and for Misha to not hate him afterward.)

“You know if you really want me guided we have to fuck, right?” He says it petulantly but without any particular venom. “I destroyed whole field for find one woman and now I am totally smoked.”

"Y-yeah."  Hyup.  "Uh, how.  How much of a rush should I be in?"  The expression on his face when he was wrestling that fingergun...as crazy as it sounds, that made me pretty nervous.

“Why you look like you just got on boat? Not excited?”

This is, obviously, a very loaded question and probably a Catch-22.

I fucked up a relationship and now I'm trying not to dive dick-first into another one?  I get stressed about stupid shit?  It's weird to be fucking you but not my actual partner?  You make me anxious because it's so much guiding and your power does crazy shit?  I have to guide you AND Graviton?  "Just a little nervous.  Hadn't planned on, uh.  Fucking you.  Or anyone."  He's actually going to message Graviton and ask her to please meet him in the nearby silo instead, Misha's not doing well.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

(She sends back a checkmark emoji)

How does one do this job and not “plan on” fucking? It’s a crucial, one might say foundational element of the whole system. The world only spins on the backs of espers on their backs. 
Maybe the West is so awash in incredibly boring espers that they can afford to take a week holding hands for something an evening could fix. “Is fine, just leave dungeon alone for a week while we try to guide with just hands? I assumed stopping dungeon was bigger priority but maybe is another cultural difference. Or maybe there is second team to take over now that I am unable to work?”

Yeah okay, he's not blushing or nervous anymore.  He's pissed.  "I didn't even know we were compatible until a few hours ago, so how was I supposed to plan on railing you, huh?"  He crouches down and moves to just grab Misha and throw him over his shoulder.

Misha reacts with a defensive crouch and an over-broad grin. His arms are still sudsy, which is going to make any sort of grip difficult for either of them, but that just makes the prospect more appealing. If Tim’s actual feelings register in him at all, it’s impossible to see on his face.

Yeah, okay, this is kinda fun.  And funny.  'Defeat the backlashed esper in order to guide him' kinda funny.  He follows Misha downdowndown, threatening leg-grabs before aiming to grab the back of Misha's neck and pull him down by the back of his neck.

Nahhhh, bro. Misha bobs and spins and delivers a jab to Shirtless’s ribs. It’s not too rough—he isn’t trying for real damage, and it probably won’t bruise, even—but it’s enough to make it clear that Misha will be playing for keeps here.

Tim pulls his elbow in, trying to deflect the jab - he's too slow - okay, this is fun.  He flashes his power for less than a second - nope, no damage - then he's trying to get up into Misha's personal space and getting some grips in.  He's okay with taking hits if it gets him into a better position.

His desire is to win, flavored by the sheer joy of a friendly spar.

On the one hand, his opponent clearly prefers grapples, which should tell Misha to back up and maintain distance for sparring. On the other hand, he's all wet and rapidly getting wetter, having direct skin contact with this guy feels like seeing the sun on the first day of Spring in the arctic circle, and punching is fun. Rather than take the cautious route, he instead just lets Shirtless open himself up and then delivers a battery of blows to the chest, torso, and upper arms. With every contact, the sensation of this guy's reality comes back, which is good, because otherwise there's no way that he'd pull his punches this much. He'd go the way of War in Winter or whatever that stupid creature was called.

He cheats just a little bit, enough to make sure he's not going to break a rib.  He makes any effort at all not to get bruised, but he's happy to take hits to get a seatbelt grip.  Once he's got a good enough grip, he sits all the way down, pulling Misha into his guard.

Which, for the uninitiated, looks like him pulling a hot, wet, athletic, very compatible man to the floor, on top of him.  With his own legs wrapped around Misha's waist.

"Hey! No using powers! I am not using powers, so you cannot be using powers! That's—that's—against the law!" Surely, given everything else they have laws about over here, they have a law against using powers against people—wait, they definitely have to have a law against this. It's coercion or whatever. This is rank hypocrisy. He whips around in Tim's grip with animal vigor, no longer restraining himself enough to ensure they both come away uninjured, not that it matters with Tim's powers online. "How dare you!"

"I always do it, when I spar.  In case someone gets hurt, you know?  You want me to stop?"  He's just salty because he got pulled down.  As Misha hurls himself about, trying to escape, Tim is aiming for a shoulder lock.