#this is an alex brightman body appreciation space

[swan--writes]

Bath Time

(I was listening to the live version of Cherry Wine by Hozier while writing this.)

Alrighty y’all, here’s part two! This one is a bit shorter than part one, but I kind of don’t mind it. Part one can be found here.

Warnings: references to sex, non-sexual nudity, kissing

You didn’t always hate your job, but when you did, you goddamn despised it. There was the day your computer glitched out and you lost a full day of work. The day your coworker had passed an angry customer off to you, and you had to sit at your desk through lunch to talk him down. Of course, you would never forget the day your current boss had first taken over her managerial office. Sheer and utter chaos. She had learned quickly, but dear Christ had that first day been rough.

Today took the cake. Your office had a managers’ meeting. Normally you liked your boss, and you knew some of the other managers. Having every manager in the district in the same building had been excessive though, and you needed to find a way to relax. Your legs were burning and your shoulders were tense – you had been running around all day, carrying redundant messages to ungrateful people and trying your best to prevent fires from starting and putting out the ones that did.

When you got home, Beetlejuice was still gone. He had left on Wednesday night for some Netherworld business that you had already forgotten the details of. Frankly, you weren’t sure you wanted to know. The demon had said he would be back on Friday evening, and so far he had never been late. For all his many…many faults, Beetlejuice was always punctual. Unfortunately, some of those faults made it difficult to relax and de-stress.

If you told Beetlejuice that you needed both of those things, you knew what he would suggest, and that if you took him up on it you wouldn’t leave your bedroom all weekend. Tempting as that idea was, you did have some errands and at least one project to take care of that weekend. Besides, you had sweat through your shirt and your sweater by the time you got home. You knew you needed a shower, but the thought of standing for that long was overwhelming. What you really wanted was a bath.

Without waiting for Beetlejuice, you walked into your bathroom. Your old roommate thought you were being overindulgent when you bought your bathtub, but the house was in your name so to hell with it. It was a large tub, with a black exterior and a shiny white interior. You undressed, wrapped yourself in a towel, and dug through your designated Bath Drawer. There were scented epsom salts, dried flowers, some half-empty bottles of bath soap, and a few tightly bound scrolls from your pre-demon boyfriend days. (God, he was your boyfriend. Would you ever get over that?) (Doubtful.) Come to think of it, maybe he should join you.

Ever since you had introduced Beetlejuice to showers, the demon had been obsessed. This was probably a good thing, considering how easily he got dirty. Beetlejuice couldn’t really feel pain and he still enjoyed body horror and bio-exorcisms and dramatically impaling himself on the gate surrounding your house for your entertainment. He would regularly emerge from the woods near your home covered in God knows what, and you had a sneaking suspicion that at least part of the reason he did it was so he would have an excuse to take a shower. It didn’t hurt that he usually needed your help getting all that mud and dead-guy blood and whatever else off of him. Maybe he would enjoy a bath.

After a few moments of carefully considering the contents of your Bath Drawer, you picked out an orange vanilla scented soap and starting filling the bathtub with water as hot as you could stand. You would be in this bath for a long, long time. While it was filling, you lit a few candles and turned out the lights. The bathroom was still bright enough that you could navigate it easily. Already, you could feel some of the tension leaving you.

So when Beetlejuice knocked on the bathroom door, you jumped.

“Honey, I’m home.” The door remained closed, but his voice was definitely in the room with you. Despite the jump scare, you couldn’t be annoyed. It was very him. You liked things that were very him. “Whatcha up to in there, sweet cheeks?”

“Beetlejuice, have you ever taken a bath?”

You heard him falter. “What?”

Not answering, you got up from your kneeling position beside the tub and opened the bathroom door. He had been leaning on the other side of the door, and when you opened it, he didn’t move. Now leaning on air, Beetlejuice frowned at you curiously. Thankfully, he wasn’t too dirty. No need to hose him down outside before letting him into your citrusy bathwater.

“Come on.” You took his strong, steady hand and gently pulled him into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He wasn’t about to refuse you when you were right in front of him wearing nothing but a towel, and he came with you easily. “I’ve had a long day, I thought this might be a good way to relax. And since you love showers so much…”

By now there was a small mountain of bubbles floating on the water. You shut off the faucet and stuck your arm into the bath to swirl the foam around more evenly. When you turned back to look at Beetlejuice, he was staring wide-eyed at the tub.

“Is that soap foam?” You nodded, knowing he couldn’t smell it too well but glad that he still seemed able to appreciate it. His eyes lit up. There was a closeness between the two of you. His pale skin shone in the dim light, and the candles softened his demonic features. In the low light, his hair looked soft and his skin looked warm. With the wonder on his face, Beetlejuice almost looked human. You smiled absently. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“You’ve never scared someone in a bath before?”

“Usually I’m scaring them out of a bath.” You took his hand and kissed it, then unwrapped your towel. There was a rack beside your bathtub and, ignoring Beetlejuice’s stare, you hung the towel from the rack and stepped into the tub. You sighed at the heat of the water and lowered yourself into it gently, but you didn’t lean against the edge. When you looked up at your demon boyfriend again, he was fidgeting, apparently speechless. Though the wonder was still firmly in place in his expression, he also seemed nervous. “Uh…” Beetlejuice pointed to the water, then to himself. “…can I come in too?”

Did he think you were going to say no?

Your brow creased in sympathy, but you fought to keep your expression open. If you shut down, even a little, he might feel rejected. You thought about giving him a speech about how you always accepted him, or about how he should feel totally welcome in your home. You could tell him how much you cared for him and how you loved spending time with him. How you wanted to give him all the human experiences you could. How you could always make a space for him. All of those things were true.

But all of those things, you realized, could wait. This didn’t have to be a teaching moment when you could just show him that you cared. For now, a nod and a small smile were enough. The joy that spread across his face was worth it.

Beetlejuice shrugged out of his jacket immediately. You watched him take off his tie and unbutton his shirt. He didn’t give you a show – didn’t even offer. It was endearing in more ways than one. Beetlejuice removed his striped button-down and his undershirt. The candlelight rolled around the lovely slope of his pale shoulders. It struck you, not for the first time, that despite being dead, this demon was so much more than a lump of cold flesh. Though you felt it when you cuddled him, and you felt it during sex, there was something about the lighting and the warmth of the bathroom that belied his intensity. Beetlejuice’s movements were so smooth and his skin seemed to glow and the reality of him surrounded your heart like so much comforting water and soft light and warmth.

When Beetlejuice slipped into the bath behind you, you shifted into his arms without hesitation. He leaned against the back of the tub and you rested your back against his beautifully soft stomach, your shoulders falling against his accommodating chest. He wrapped one cozy arm around you and kissed your ear. His other hand dove into the foam, stretching and squeezing experimentally. He made piles of bubbles and flicked them. You smiled and tilted your head, craning your neck so you could kiss his chin, nosing at his scruff once you had. Beetlejuice moved his head down just a bit so you could reach his lips. Once you were satisfied that you had kissed him enough for now, you turned back to face forward and fully relaxed into him. You really had missed him while he was gone.

It was still for a minute. Then, you felt Beetlejuice’s free hand tugging at the elastic in your hair. He didn’t ask and you didn’t say anything. You simply leaned your head forward just enough for him to pull the elastic free. You felt his fingers chasing it away before returning to your scalp. His other arm held you secure, not stroking or exploring. He just held you. The last of the tension left your body with the tangles he was combing out of your hair.

Buy Me a Coffee?

[swan-lite]

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Bath Time

(I was listening to the live version of Cherry Wine by Hozier while writing this.)

Alrighty y’all, here’s part two! This one is a bit shorter than part one, but I kind of don’t mind it. Part one can be found here.

Warnings: references to sex, non-sexual nudity, kissing

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