"Told you," he says, finally shifting back and away with a quiet sound, hands still on Neil's hips. "Hobbes does the romance. Not my gig." He grins then as his heels touch the edge and an idea comes to him, and his hands close a little tighter on Neil's body.

"Like, this isn't fucking romantic at all," he says, and lets himself fall backward into the water, pulling Neil with him.