The mud was deeper than Ethan had expected.

By his third step, his right boot had almost completely disappeared into the brown sludge. When he tried to pull his leg free, the ground held him fast. A deep, wet sucking sound rose from beneath him before the boot finally came loose, only to sink even deeper the moment he put it down again.

Ryan stood a few metres ahead, watching his every movement.

"Slowly," he said. "You're supposed to feel it."

Ethan looked up at him. Ryan was wearing pale jeans and a tight white T-shirt. Both were already marked with broad brown splashes across the legs and stomach. He had dressed like that on purpose. Light-coloured clothes, he had said earlier, looked better in the mud.

Ethan had laughed at him.

Now he understood what Ryan had meant.

The damp fabric clung to Ryan's solid body. Every stain was clearly visible, every trace the mud had left behind. Ryan stood with his legs apart in the pit, his arms loosely folded across his chest, looking as though he was simply waiting for Ethan to come closer.

"Keep going," he told him.

Ethan dragged his other leg forward. Mud spilled over the tops of his boots and ran cold down his calves. His old work trousers were already soaked up to the knees. With every step, he became more aware of the weight of his wet clothes.

Ryan smiled.

"Do you like the way it holds you?"

Ethan nodded.

"Say it."

"Yes."

"That wasn't the question."

Ethan took a deep breath. "Yes, I like it."

Ryan came towards him. He moved more confidently, even though the ground gave way beneath him too. When he reached Ethan, he placed one hand on the back of his neck.

His fingers were covered in mud.

Slowly, he ran them through Ethan's short hair, spreading the cold sludge over the back of his head, his neck and his ears, as though he were marking him.

Ethan closed his eyes.

"You're still far too clean," Ryan murmured.

He scooped up another handful of mud and smeared it across Ethan's cheek. Not gently, but with firm pressure. His fingers left thick trails across his skin. Then came the other side of his face, his neck and his chin.

Ethan could taste the earth on his lips.

Ryan studied him with satisfaction. "Better."

Ethan grabbed his T-shirt and pulled him closer. "You too."

He pressed both muddy hands against Ryan's chest. The white shirt darkened beneath his fingers at once. Ethan rubbed the mud slowly into the fabric until it spread across Ryan's chest and stomach.

Ryan did not move away.

Instead, he pushed himself into Ethan's hands.

"More," he said.

Ethan reached deeper into the mud. This time he took so much that it oozed between his fingers. He spread it across Ryan's shoulders, upper arms and neck. The white fabric disappeared piece by piece.

Ryan lifted his arms and let it happen.

Ethan enjoyed the sight. The gleaming mud. The heavy fabric. The way Ryan stood there calmly while he became dirtier and dirtier.

"You're looking at me as though you'd like to throw me into it," Ryan said.

"Maybe I would."

"Then stop talking about it."

Ethan shoved him in the chest.

Ryan staggered one step backwards, caught himself and grinned. Ethan shoved him a second time. This time the ground gave way beneath Ryan's heels. He fell backwards into the pit and landed with his entire body in the mud.

The brown sludge sprayed into the air.

For a moment, Ryan was barely recognisable. His face, hair, shirt and trousers were covered in a thick layer. He lay on his back, breathing heavily, looking up at Ethan.

"Exactly like that," he said quietly.

Ethan knelt over him.

The mud pressed through his trousers and closed around his knees. He placed both hands on Ryan's chest and pushed him deeper into the soft ground. Beneath his weight, Ryan slowly sank.

"Still too clean?" Ethan asked.

Ryan ran both hands over his back and pulled him down towards him.

"Far too clean."

They rolled onto their sides together.

Mud ran across Ethan's forehead and into his beard. He felt it inside his collar, beneath his shirt and between the fabric and his skin. Ryan seized him by the shoulders and rubbed his upper body across the ground. Not roughly, but firmly enough for Ethan to feel every uneven patch and every cold, smooth layer beneath him.

He laughed breathlessly.

"You wanted it dirty," Ryan said.

"This still isn't dirty enough."

Ryan pulled the shirt over Ethan's head.

The wet fabric clung briefly to his arms before coming free and dropping into the mud beside them. Ryan picked it up, pressed it deep into the brown sludge and then laid it back across Ethan's chest.

Heavy, cold and completely soaked.

"How about now?"

Ethan smeared mud across his mouth. "Almost."

Ryan kissed his fingers.

Then he took hold of Ethan's hips and pulled him deeper into the pit. Ethan sank up to his stomach. The mud closed tightly around him, pressing against his skin and making every movement slow and difficult.

That was exactly what he loved about it.

The helplessness.

The feeling of not being able to simply stand up.

The certainty that every movement would only make him dirtier.

Ryan knelt behind him and spread mud across his bare back. His hands moved slowly over his shoulders, sides and stomach. Sometimes gently, sometimes with firm pressure. Ethan could feel every finger, even though there was nothing between them but the thick, slick layer.

"Stay like that," Ryan said.

Ethan obeyed.

Ryan scooped up more mud and let it run over Ethan's head. The sludge streamed through his hair, across his face and down his neck. Ethan kept his eyes closed and allowed it all to happen.

"You look incredible," Ryan whispered.

Ethan turned towards him.

Ryan's clothes were now completely brown. His T-shirt hung heavily against his body, his jeans gleamed wetly, and even his face was covered in mud apart from his eyes.

Ethan pulled him close.

Their bodies met with a wet sound. Mud was squeezed out from between them and ran down their sides. They kissed slowly, then with more urgency. Their hands kept finding new places that were not yet completely covered.

Shoulders.

Chest.

Stomach.

Back.

Face.

Neither of them wanted to stop until nothing clean was left.

Eventually, Ryan pushed Ethan back into the pit and lay on top of him. His weight pressed Ethan deeper into the soft ground. The brown sludge closed around both of their bodies until it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began.

"This is exactly what you dreamed about, isn't it?" Ryan asked close to his ear.

Ethan felt Ryan's breath against his skin.

"Yes."

"Someone covering you completely in mud?"

"Yes."

"You not caring anymore what you look like?"

Ethan wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer.

"I want you to keep going."

Ryan lifted his head and looked at him.

"Then stay down."

He scooped up another handful of mud.

And Ethan smiled as it slowly poured across his face.