"I've smelled worse," Luther tells him, and just barely manages not to boggle when Kallus asks to stay. He gets it, at least a little, the kind of repression that stupid Empire had pressed on the man in front of him.

So instead he leans forward, kissing Kallus despite the goo.

"You better stay," he says quietly. "I want you here, 's why I went looking. We'll shower, and then we're gonna spend the rest of this stupid night in bed." Catching himself, he flushes under the thin sheen of god-slime. "Sleeping, or resting, is what I meant. Five's out there with a rifle, we're gonna be safe here."