Scriddler sharing a bath
Nonsexual Acts of Intimacy Prompt - Prompt Status: Accepting
Eeeeeey. I got your back, friend. This is so fluffy, it’s probably OOC but oh well. I hope you enjoy.
In the days that followed, even Edward’s perfect memory would fail to explain how they’d both gotten into the tub. Jonathan had taken one look at the shimmery green, bathbomb-infused water and had declared he wasn’t doing this. Edward had leapt between him and the door, trying to assure Jon that everything would be fine and it wouldn’t take long. Then everything got a bit fuzzy. Somehow they’d both found themselves, mostly undressed, sitting in the bath with Edward’s calves bracing Jonathan’s thighs so the former psychiatrist couldn’t get up without Edward clinging to him. Eventually, Jonathan stopped struggling.
“This is unnecessary, Edward,” Jon complained, accent leaking thickly into his voice at his displeasure. Something about his posture reminded Edward of an angry cat: long legs sprawled before him, back and neck tense, and palms braced against the tub as though he was about to propel himself out of the depths at a moment’s thought. Edward suspected he was scowling at the tiled wall.
“You’re the doctor, Jon; tell me: when is it unnecessary to keep injuries clean?” he replied tartly, reaching for a washcloth. At the last second, he reached for a different, softer, one—embroidered pumpkins probably wouldn’t feel too good against bruises and stitches.
Jonathan started to reply and broke off with an annoyed click of his tongue.
Grinning smugly to himself at his victory, Edward dragged the cloth through the bathwater, rang out a portion of the water, and began carefully dabbing at the lines of stitches across Jonathan’s back. They were healing well. He’d been…concerned. Throwing himself backwards through a window to escape Batman wasn’t what Edward considered one of Jon’s brighter ideas—it had worked, but finding his (boyfriend?) occasional partner bleeding horrifically in an alley was not one of Edward’s favourite things. It was more accurate to say he hated it.
“Somethin’ on your mind?” he heard Jon drawl, jolting him back to reality. As Edward watched, he leaned forward and pulled off his sock before dropping it on the bathroom floor. Edward couldn’t help but cringe in horror as the sopping article hit the tiled floor with a wet thwap!
“You need to take better care of yourself,” Edward finally replied, resting the washcloth across his knee before turning to collect a couple bottles from the shower caddy. He nearly dropped them as he turned back, discovering that Jonathan had twisted around just enough to look at him.
“If I took care of myself, what would that give you to fuss over?”
Edward stared blankly at him as though that would help him figure out if Jon was being serious or not. “I…you can’t…teasing me isn’t going to make me let you out, Jonathan.” He flicked the damp cloth at him, showering them both with a mist of water droplets. “If I have to suffer through sitting here in wet underwear, you can endure a forced bath.”
“What if I tried flattery next?”
“Appeals to my ego will get you nowhere, for I have none!”
Before Edward could ask what he was talking about, there was a splash and a small wave of water crashed into his face, leaving him spluttering. He dropped the soap bottles to push dripping auburn hair from his eyes. “Jonathan.”
But the water war had already begun.
In hindsight, they should have taken a shower.