Log: Rubbing and Scrubbing
Jan. 1st, 2016 04:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eskil_douglas[Summary: After their night together Vincent and Esse take a bath and have a chat.]
[Warnings: Mostly fluff, some language, nakedness.]
Vincent stirs with a small grunt, his senses wakening before his thoughts manage to. That smell...he knows it too well. Tobacco, and good quality tobacco at that, if the scent is anything to go by.
Blinking his eyes into focus, Vincent spies a grey figure by the window, too far away for Vincent to see in any clarity. The Russian knows he should probably start wearing his spectacles more often, but...bah.
“Esse?” he asks, lifting his head an inch or so up off the pillow.
The grey clad figure turns at the sound of Vincent’s voice and starts to drift closer. “Good morning, Vincent.” Eskil, for it is indeed him, looks tired and hollow-eyed, but his smile is both warm and genuine. “Did you sleep well?”
The Russian runs a hand through his tangled hair, a loud, ugly yawn escaping his lips as he does.
“Mmm...yeah…” he mumbles, then, as memories of the previous night begin to resurface, he sits up a little more, blinking his eyes in an attempt to focus them:
“How are you? I mean...you had a...rough night.”
Eskil nods and drags at his cigarette as he comes to take a seat on the edge of the bed next to Vincent. “I’ll live,” he chuckles, though he doesn’t sound terribly amused. “Sorry about that, dearest. I had hoped I wouldn’t... I had hoped you wouldn’t have had to see that.”
This should be terribly alluring for Vincent--a gorgeous young man sat on a bed, smoking a cigarette...but Eskil’s tired eyes and pale skin negate any feelings of arousal. The poor thing looks like he barely slept at all.
“Don’t apologise for something you can’t help, sweetheart…” he says, reaching a hand out to gently pat Eskil’s leg.
Eskil tilts his head and smiles a small smile that’s just for Vincent - just for him being so sweet to Eskil. “Hardly my proudest moment though,” he says, reaching out to run gentle fingers through the Russian’s beard, “I... I can’t thank you enough for... for staying with me.”
Vincent lifts his chin a little--he loves having his beard stroked, and it’s comforting to feel Eskil’s fingers brushing up against his jawline.
“You don’t have to thank me…” Vincent murmurs, “I wanted to stay. I...I had an incredible time last night. Truly.”
Another drag of the cigarette, another exhale of smoke. “You’re too good to me, Vincent,” said with the fondest of tones as Eskil leans down to briefly lean his forehead against Vincent’s. “And I had a wonderful time too, except for... well, nightmaring is never fun but that could have happened any night. What we did though, that... that was lovely.”
Vincent moves to gently kiss the young man’s forehead, but looks a little sheepish in doing so.
“Uh...if you wanted to do something like that again this morning, would you mind terribly if I had a bath first?”
He’s a little embarrassed, he knows he probably smells like sweat, after all.
Eskil grins tiredly. “I wouldn’t mind at all, can’t have my fuzzy bear be a smelly bear, now can I?”
The Russian feels his cheeks reddening at the nickname--it sounds so silly, in the daylight, but so sweet, too, and it’s a name he’s glad to have been given.
“You’re lucky, you don’t have any fuzz to wash! Except your lovely hair, and...well…” he trails off, chuckling. He’s surprised Eskil hasn’t slapped him by now, honestly.
Eskil sighs and rolls his eyes, but can’t hide his little smirk. “Such depravity so early in the morning. I rather think you need that bath to clear your head,” Eskil says, as he stands up from the bed and moves towards the vanity where the ashtray is so that he can put out his cigarette.
“I can’t help how I wake up! It’s natural…” Vincent mumbles, still not quite awake. He’d really quite like to just go back to sleep, but he does need that bath, and, besides, he feels rude still lounging around in bed whilst his host is awake.
“Mhm,” Eskil says, now walking across the room to open the door to the adjoining bathroom, “well, bath is through here if you’re done being natural and want to have a soak.”
“Mmmf...yes, Sir…” Vincent mutters as he rolls out of bed, a little embarrassed as he realises he is naked. “You want to join me?” he asks, teasingly, as he walks past Eskil, growling playfully at him before entering the bathroom.
Now this is a bathroom, it’s large, it’s modern and it’s sinfully luxurious with it’s marble floors and ginormous bathtub that could easily fit the both of them without either of them being cramped. There’s oils and soaps and lotions and potions in neat rows on pretty shelves, and soft fluffy towels just waiting to be used. No wonder the Swede is handsome.
“You know...” Eskil says as he moves to run a bath, “I think I’d like that. I’m a bit sore after...” he trails off - and by the expression on his face it’s clear he’s thinking about the tension after his nightmare rather than any strain from their earlier endeavours.
“Sore? Goodness, I’m going to have to be gentle with you if we ever...well…” Vincent trails off, with a small smile, before looking around the bathroom, his eyes widening as he surveys Eskil’s great collection of toiletries. It’s rather embarrassing, Vincent realises, that he usually only has a bottle of half-used shampoo and an old bar of soap to hand, at the best of times. No wonder Eskil always smells so good. He awkwardly leans against the side of the bath, wondering if he should cover himself with a towel while he waits for it to fill.
“... that kind of soreness isn’t an unpleasant reminder though...” Eskil says quietly. He tries not to fall back into his earlier gloominess - it wouldn’t be fair to Vincent he thinks, he’s already suffered enough because of Eskil’s nightmares, and he changes the subject with a forced little smile. “What scents do you like, Vincent?” he asks, gesturing to the shelf of bath oils on display.
Vincent looks to Eskil, and finally realises that he was referring to his nightmares, not their bedroom antics. He feels awful for not catching the Swede’s meaning, and wants to say something, but it’s clear that Eskil wants to change the subject, so Vincent holds his tongue on the subject of nightmares.
“Oh goodness, you have so many! Without wanting to offend you, I’m not too fond of floral scents. I always fear that I’ll be attacked by swarms of bees…”
Eskil huffs a little laugh at that and studies the oils on the shelf. “Well, what about hmm... peppermint,” he says picking out a bottle for Vincent to smell, “and maybe a few drops of chamomile?”
“That sounds lovely. Choose whatever you like, Esse. You’re the one who has to smell me most often, after all…” Vincent chuckles.
Eskil smiles; “well maybe I should have gone with a smokier and spicier scent if it was just for you - but as I said, I intend to join you.”
“You think I’d smell good, then, all smoky and spicy?” Vincent laughs, reaching over to gesture for Eskil to take his hand. He wants to kiss him, embrace him, but...ugh, not before his bath.
“I think it’d suit you, yes,” Eskil says briefly taking Vincent’s hand and giving it a press before taking his hand back so he can pour the oils into the bath that’s mostly filled. The scents mix and mingle and spreads into the room, and Eskil sighs happily.
“You’ll be dressing me, soon…” the Russian replies with a chuckle, though he knows that, honestly, Eskil would make a far better job of it than Vincent ever could. Presentation and appearance have never really been his forte.
Eskil laughs. “I rather thought you’d be happier if I did the opposite?” he asks, turning off the water and gesturing for Vincent to get in.
“Oh goodness, yes…” Vincent says with a chuckle, before carefully stepping into the bath, lowering himself down into the hot water. He can’t remember the last time he used bath oils, but this is heavenly. He can feel the heat of the bath water relaxing his muscles, and he takes a deep inhale to feel the fragrant steam clear his mind. He looks up at Eskil, and murmurs:
“Though really, I think it’d be most fun to dress me up all nice, and then undress me…”
He sighs happily, sinking down a little into the water.
“Like if I had my own giant fuzzy doll,” Eskil chuckles, “well, I’d like that if you would.” The Swede moves around the room to turn up the lights a bit - it’d be unfortunate if one of them would end up slipping when getting out of the bath just because it was too dark - before untying the knot of his dressing gown and sliding it off, draping it over a chair. Coming up close to the tub he asks; “Room for one more?”
Vincent had forgotten quite how handsome Eskil was, how toned his chest and arms are. And that cute stomach! He tries not to smile too much as he shifts back in the bath, leaving space for Eskil to lay back against him, if he so wishes.
“I suppose I could find room for a handsome young Swedish man, yes…”
Eskil smiles back and then carefully steps into the bath and, hoping he hasn’t misread the invitation, slides back, fitting himself between the Russian’s legs, to lean his back against Vincent’s chest with a sigh.
Vincent wraps his arms around the young Swede, sighing happily as he feels Eskil’s weight sink against him.
“And if you really do want to dress me up, you’re more than welcome to…” he mumbles, closing his eyes, “I’m hopeless with clothing and I may whine and sulk, but I know you would make me look very handsome…”
“You already do,” Eskil replies, putting his own arms atop Vincent’s. “Not that I wouldn’t endeavour to get you into a handsome suit that would help show off just how good looking you are, but really... you don’t need to just to please me.”
“Mm, no, I need to buy new clothes...I just...I hate it…” Vincent mumbles, sounding rather childish as he sinks into the water a little more, “But you’re sweet to call me handsome. After last night, I might start believing that you mean it, dolce.”
“Well, if sucking your cock is what it takes for you to see how handsome you are I’ll keep doing that,” Eskil murmurs, grinning a little.
Vincent wasn’t expecting that, and he raises his head from the water, laughing.
“Esse! Please! I mean...wow...but...not when I’m behind you like this!”
Eskil tilts his head so he can look at Vincent from the corner of his eyes with a wicked little smile on his face. “Hmm, I suppose I should wait until you’re less trapped,” he says wiggling a little against Vincent.
“H-Ha...Eskil…” Vincent pleads, the friction being too much for a man who woke up hard and who is currently pressed up against an irresistibly attractive young Swede.
“You’re such a tease...whatever happened to the shy little Count who could barely ask for a kiss, hm?”
Eskil stops his antics and stills, his wicked smile turning fond and soft. “You did.”
Vincent’s expression softens too, and a warm smile spreads across his face.
“Can I make a small confession, Esse?” he says, nuzzling against the young man’s hair. He rather hopes Eskil will let him wash it--an excuse to see the Count with damp hair. Vincent assumes he will look rather like a wet puppy.
“Of course, Vincent,” Eskil replies, too comfortable in this bath and in Vincent’s arm to start worrying about what it might be the other man has to say.
“Last night, I thought there was no chance that you’d ever want to sleep with me again, if we got that far. I assumed you’d see my grey hairs and my scars and be disgusted...though too polite to say anything. But...unless I’m horribly mistaken...I think we’re rather wonderful together.”
Vincent lets out a little exhale, hoping his words have not been spoken too soon.
Eskil blinks rapidly a few times, discouraging the tears that wants to well up there, and he smiles as his poor young heart can barely take it - that honest admission. “Oh Vincent,” he sighs, a bit lost for words, “I think... I think we can be good for each other too.”
“I don’t want to get ahead of myself…” Vincent continues, choosing his words carefully, “but...you know I have a lot of affection for you, don’t you? As well as finding you incredibly irresistible, as you can probably...uh...feel.”
“Yes, to both things,” Eskil answers. “And... I don’t want to rush this... thing we’re having but... you should know that you have very quickly become very important to me,” he nods. Then his smile dims and he grows thoughtful, chewing on his lip a little nervously. “I... after what happened last night I... well I would understand if you don’t want to sleep together after... afterwards,” he says quietly.
“You are important to me too…” Vincent assures him, nuzzling against his hair. Though when he sees Eskil’s face fall a little, he moves to tighten his grip on the Swede, holding him closer.
“Don’t be silly…” Vincent mumbles, a hint of seriousness to his tone, “How could I sleep alone, knowing you might be so terrified, with no-one to comfort you? I won’t pretend I wasn’t frightened last night, but I would never leave you. Not if you needed me.”
He isn’t crying, but he does sniffle a bit. “I... I just don’t want you to feel obligated to... you... you didn’t know I can be... such a mess.”
“Don’t get upset…” Vincent mutters, in more of a plead than a command, “You’re not a mess. You just happen to have nightmares sometimes. Everyone does. And I want to be there to help you, when you’re scared. You’re not asking for too much.”
The boy’s bottom lip quivers, but he bites back against the tears. Vincent doesn’t know. And right now he doesn’t need to know. Eskil’s left that life behind him and this is the present and he should stop thinking about the past and focus on the man holding him instead. “You’re too kind to me, Vincent... but I can live with that,” he says with a brave little smile.
Vincent chuckles at that--happy that Eskil seems to be cheering up.
“Can I ask a horrid favour of you?” he asks, excited to see if he will get his wish of washing those lovely curls.
Pushing all other thoughts down down down for later Eskil raises an eyebrow and gives a wry little smile. “I suppose if you must,” he teases.
Vincent grins, hoping Eskil won’t find his request to be a hopelessly strange one:
“Can I please wash your hair for you, Esse?”
Eskil looks surprised but hardly offended. “I, yes, if you’d like - of course.”
“Do you have anything you use on it? I’m hopeless with hair...things.” he admits, though he’s already running his fingers through Eskil’s curls.
“Mmm,” Eskil sighs, pleased with the attention spent on his curls, and lazily gestures to another small bottle on the rack just by the bath.
Vincent strains and reaches over, picking up a small glass bottle.
“This one?” he asks, thinking that they all look rather similar.
“Yes, that one will be nice... smells like cypress,” Eskil murmurs, eyes half closed, and his smile content.
The older man places the bottle onto the side of the bath, sinking back down into the water with an excited little smile. He really does like doing things for Eskil, especially when he gets to play with his hair.
“Can you move forward a tiny bit, dolce, so I can lower your head into the water?” he asks, as sweetly as possible.
Eskil doesn’t answer in any other way than doing what he’s asked and letting out another content little sigh. This is ridiculously nice, it’s silly really, but there’s few things in this world that’s quite as comforting as having someone lavish attention on his hair he thinks.
Vincent gently takes hold of the young man’s head, cupping his cheeks from behind and making sure to avoid going anywhere near Eskil’s throat, he gently urges Esse down into the water, exhaling a happy little sigh. This. This is all Vincent’s wanted for so long, and it feels fantastic.
Eskil looks up then, his curls feathering out in the water each and everywhere, and he smiles at Vincent - trying to wordlessly convey just how much he enjoys this.
Vincent holds him there for a moment, smiling back as he watches those glorious curls darken in the water. After he is satisfied that Esse’s hair is thoroughly damp, he gently lifts the young man’s head out of the water, urging him back to his chest.
“Time to make you smell pretty…” he teases, reaching for the bottle.
“Don’t I always,” Eskil chuckles as he leans back once again against the other man. “You’re spoiling me...”
“I adore spoiling you rotten…” Vincent murmurs, unscrewing the lid of the bottle and pouring a little of its contents onto his free hand, “You deserve it, Esse.”
He’d protest if he weren’t so blissed out, but luckily he is - and he just grins and relaxes, dangerously close to dozing off under Vincent’s caring hands.
Vincent places the bottle back down and briefly rubs his hands together before beginning the massage, slowly working through Eskil’s wet curls as he massages the young man’s scalp. He notices Eskil appears to be drifting off, but Vincent doesn’t mind. The poor thing deserves some sleep.
“Hmmhff,” the Swede, well, says isn’t technically true since it isn’t a word, though it sounds by the tone of his voice like it’s meant to be something appreciative regarding Vincent’s efforts, before he actually does fall asleep.
“Esse?” Vincent whispers, still caressing the boy’s scalp. The poor darling looks exhausted--Vincent wonders how Eskil coped with his nightmares when there was no-one there to comfort him. Vincent doesn’t think he could be half as strong as Eskil is, and he finds his admiration for the boy growing even stronger.
This time around there doesn’t seem to be any horrible surprises though, and even if the boy still mumbles in Swedish as he sleeps - he sounds happy and content and nuzzles closer to Vincent.
Vincent chuckles, gently lowering the boy’s head into the warm water again, just enough to get enough of his hair wet that Vincent can do the rest himself, scooping up small amounts of water to rinse through the rest of Eskil’s curls. Vincent is so, so terribly relieved to see him sleep peacefully.
Staying asleep in a bathtub whilst being moved around - no matter how gently - isn’t the easiest though and Eskil re-awakens, a little bleary-eyed but smiling. “Did I fall asleep on you? Didn’t mean to do that but you’re fingers in my hair is like magic...”
“You did, Esse…” Vincent says, with a chuckle, swiftly adding, “But don’t worry, I’m glad you like it…” Though he’s finished rinsing the young man’s hair, Vincent can’t help but continue the massage, rubbing gentle little circles over Eskil’s head.
“Mmm,” Eskil hums, “so nice... but if you keep that up I’ll fall asleep again and then we’d both be trapped in the bath when the water gets cold.”
“Well then, perhaps I can continue the massage in bed, hm?” Vincent murmurs, the slightest hint of arousal to his tone. He knows Eskil is tired, though, and he’d rather the boy slept if he needed it.
“I’d like that,” Eskil murmurs, and then rubs at his eyes trying to wake himself up enough to actually get out of the bath.
“Would you like me to carry you, Esse?” Vincent asks with a little smirk, only half-joking.
Eskil laughs. “No, no, I’ll manage,” he says and begins to rise out of the tub, stretching and yawning once he has both feet safely under him on the bathroom floor. He picks up one of the towels - though he doesn’t bother drying off but instead wraps it around himself.
Vincent removes the bath plug before stepping out of the water himself, grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist. The towel is incredibly soft, Vincent isn’t used to it--does he even own a towel any more?--though there is something rather more pressing on his mind. He pulls Eskil into a warm and rather damp embrace, hopefully smelling a little better than he did when he awoke.
Eskil leans against him, nuzzling the crook of his neck, sighing. “We should dry off...”
Vincent takes the young man’s reply as a request, and he lifts another towel up, moving it to Eskil’s curls as he begins to dry the Swede’s hair for him.
It wasn’t in fact a request but Esse damn sure isn’t going to complain about having his hair dried for him. “Spoiling me,” he murmurs sleepily.
“Of course I am...I’m always going to spoil you.” Vincent says with a smile, rubbing the towel through Eskil’s hair. “I am going to dote on you until you are absolutely sick of me.”
Eskil smiles against Vincent’s neck, but he is pretty much half-asleep still and words are slow to come to him. “Sweet... fuzzy bear,” he mumbles.
“Do you want to go to bed?” Vincent murmurs, with a smile, “I can dry your hair for you there, if you like, before you fall asleep in your bathroom…”
Eskil forces his eyes open once more and nods. “Yes, good idea,” he says and starts taking a few shuffling steps towards the bedroom door.
Vincent takes the poor sleepy thing’s hand, leading him towards his own bed.
“Nearly there…” he laughs, “You can sleep all you like, now.”
The Russian does wonder if Eskil’s nightmares might return once he falls into a deeper sleep, but he doesn’t let that bother him now. If it happens, it happens, and Vincent will do his best to comfort Eskil when he needs it.
Eskil rather ungracefully flops down onto the bed and curls into the blankets. Like a sleepy child reaching for a toy Eskil stretches his arms towards Vincent; “Come here, please.”
“I’m coming, sweet thing…” Vincent says with a chuckle, still holding the towel as he climbs onto the bed and curls up next to Eskil, shifting himself so he still has room to dry the young man’s hair.
“Good to me,” the sleepy Swede babbles, “so good to me, and kind and handsome and sweet and...” he trails of with a yawn. “Happy you’re here.”
Vincent beams at the Swede’s compliments, full of pride and warmth.
“I’m happy to be here, Esse…” he murmurs, gently rubbing the towel through Eskil’s hair, unable to stop smiling. He hopes that Eskil’s words mean that he will, finally, enjoy a pleasant sleep.
“... good to me,” Eskil manages to mumble one last time before he drifts off again, falling asleep with a blissed out little smile on his lips and cheeks rosey after their shared bath.
[Warnings: Mostly fluff, some language, nakedness.]
Vincent stirs with a small grunt, his senses wakening before his thoughts manage to. That smell...he knows it too well. Tobacco, and good quality tobacco at that, if the scent is anything to go by.
Blinking his eyes into focus, Vincent spies a grey figure by the window, too far away for Vincent to see in any clarity. The Russian knows he should probably start wearing his spectacles more often, but...bah.
“Esse?” he asks, lifting his head an inch or so up off the pillow.
The grey clad figure turns at the sound of Vincent’s voice and starts to drift closer. “Good morning, Vincent.” Eskil, for it is indeed him, looks tired and hollow-eyed, but his smile is both warm and genuine. “Did you sleep well?”
The Russian runs a hand through his tangled hair, a loud, ugly yawn escaping his lips as he does.
“Mmm...yeah…” he mumbles, then, as memories of the previous night begin to resurface, he sits up a little more, blinking his eyes in an attempt to focus them:
“How are you? I mean...you had a...rough night.”
Eskil nods and drags at his cigarette as he comes to take a seat on the edge of the bed next to Vincent. “I’ll live,” he chuckles, though he doesn’t sound terribly amused. “Sorry about that, dearest. I had hoped I wouldn’t... I had hoped you wouldn’t have had to see that.”
This should be terribly alluring for Vincent--a gorgeous young man sat on a bed, smoking a cigarette...but Eskil’s tired eyes and pale skin negate any feelings of arousal. The poor thing looks like he barely slept at all.
“Don’t apologise for something you can’t help, sweetheart…” he says, reaching a hand out to gently pat Eskil’s leg.
Eskil tilts his head and smiles a small smile that’s just for Vincent - just for him being so sweet to Eskil. “Hardly my proudest moment though,” he says, reaching out to run gentle fingers through the Russian’s beard, “I... I can’t thank you enough for... for staying with me.”
Vincent lifts his chin a little--he loves having his beard stroked, and it’s comforting to feel Eskil’s fingers brushing up against his jawline.
“You don’t have to thank me…” Vincent murmurs, “I wanted to stay. I...I had an incredible time last night. Truly.”
Another drag of the cigarette, another exhale of smoke. “You’re too good to me, Vincent,” said with the fondest of tones as Eskil leans down to briefly lean his forehead against Vincent’s. “And I had a wonderful time too, except for... well, nightmaring is never fun but that could have happened any night. What we did though, that... that was lovely.”
Vincent moves to gently kiss the young man’s forehead, but looks a little sheepish in doing so.
“Uh...if you wanted to do something like that again this morning, would you mind terribly if I had a bath first?”
He’s a little embarrassed, he knows he probably smells like sweat, after all.
Eskil grins tiredly. “I wouldn’t mind at all, can’t have my fuzzy bear be a smelly bear, now can I?”
The Russian feels his cheeks reddening at the nickname--it sounds so silly, in the daylight, but so sweet, too, and it’s a name he’s glad to have been given.
“You’re lucky, you don’t have any fuzz to wash! Except your lovely hair, and...well…” he trails off, chuckling. He’s surprised Eskil hasn’t slapped him by now, honestly.
Eskil sighs and rolls his eyes, but can’t hide his little smirk. “Such depravity so early in the morning. I rather think you need that bath to clear your head,” Eskil says, as he stands up from the bed and moves towards the vanity where the ashtray is so that he can put out his cigarette.
“I can’t help how I wake up! It’s natural…” Vincent mumbles, still not quite awake. He’d really quite like to just go back to sleep, but he does need that bath, and, besides, he feels rude still lounging around in bed whilst his host is awake.
“Mhm,” Eskil says, now walking across the room to open the door to the adjoining bathroom, “well, bath is through here if you’re done being natural and want to have a soak.”
“Mmmf...yes, Sir…” Vincent mutters as he rolls out of bed, a little embarrassed as he realises he is naked. “You want to join me?” he asks, teasingly, as he walks past Eskil, growling playfully at him before entering the bathroom.
Now this is a bathroom, it’s large, it’s modern and it’s sinfully luxurious with it’s marble floors and ginormous bathtub that could easily fit the both of them without either of them being cramped. There’s oils and soaps and lotions and potions in neat rows on pretty shelves, and soft fluffy towels just waiting to be used. No wonder the Swede is handsome.
“You know...” Eskil says as he moves to run a bath, “I think I’d like that. I’m a bit sore after...” he trails off - and by the expression on his face it’s clear he’s thinking about the tension after his nightmare rather than any strain from their earlier endeavours.
“Sore? Goodness, I’m going to have to be gentle with you if we ever...well…” Vincent trails off, with a small smile, before looking around the bathroom, his eyes widening as he surveys Eskil’s great collection of toiletries. It’s rather embarrassing, Vincent realises, that he usually only has a bottle of half-used shampoo and an old bar of soap to hand, at the best of times. No wonder Eskil always smells so good. He awkwardly leans against the side of the bath, wondering if he should cover himself with a towel while he waits for it to fill.
“... that kind of soreness isn’t an unpleasant reminder though...” Eskil says quietly. He tries not to fall back into his earlier gloominess - it wouldn’t be fair to Vincent he thinks, he’s already suffered enough because of Eskil’s nightmares, and he changes the subject with a forced little smile. “What scents do you like, Vincent?” he asks, gesturing to the shelf of bath oils on display.
Vincent looks to Eskil, and finally realises that he was referring to his nightmares, not their bedroom antics. He feels awful for not catching the Swede’s meaning, and wants to say something, but it’s clear that Eskil wants to change the subject, so Vincent holds his tongue on the subject of nightmares.
“Oh goodness, you have so many! Without wanting to offend you, I’m not too fond of floral scents. I always fear that I’ll be attacked by swarms of bees…”
Eskil huffs a little laugh at that and studies the oils on the shelf. “Well, what about hmm... peppermint,” he says picking out a bottle for Vincent to smell, “and maybe a few drops of chamomile?”
“That sounds lovely. Choose whatever you like, Esse. You’re the one who has to smell me most often, after all…” Vincent chuckles.
Eskil smiles; “well maybe I should have gone with a smokier and spicier scent if it was just for you - but as I said, I intend to join you.”
“You think I’d smell good, then, all smoky and spicy?” Vincent laughs, reaching over to gesture for Eskil to take his hand. He wants to kiss him, embrace him, but...ugh, not before his bath.
“I think it’d suit you, yes,” Eskil says briefly taking Vincent’s hand and giving it a press before taking his hand back so he can pour the oils into the bath that’s mostly filled. The scents mix and mingle and spreads into the room, and Eskil sighs happily.
“You’ll be dressing me, soon…” the Russian replies with a chuckle, though he knows that, honestly, Eskil would make a far better job of it than Vincent ever could. Presentation and appearance have never really been his forte.
Eskil laughs. “I rather thought you’d be happier if I did the opposite?” he asks, turning off the water and gesturing for Vincent to get in.
“Oh goodness, yes…” Vincent says with a chuckle, before carefully stepping into the bath, lowering himself down into the hot water. He can’t remember the last time he used bath oils, but this is heavenly. He can feel the heat of the bath water relaxing his muscles, and he takes a deep inhale to feel the fragrant steam clear his mind. He looks up at Eskil, and murmurs:
“Though really, I think it’d be most fun to dress me up all nice, and then undress me…”
He sighs happily, sinking down a little into the water.
“Like if I had my own giant fuzzy doll,” Eskil chuckles, “well, I’d like that if you would.” The Swede moves around the room to turn up the lights a bit - it’d be unfortunate if one of them would end up slipping when getting out of the bath just because it was too dark - before untying the knot of his dressing gown and sliding it off, draping it over a chair. Coming up close to the tub he asks; “Room for one more?”
Vincent had forgotten quite how handsome Eskil was, how toned his chest and arms are. And that cute stomach! He tries not to smile too much as he shifts back in the bath, leaving space for Eskil to lay back against him, if he so wishes.
“I suppose I could find room for a handsome young Swedish man, yes…”
Eskil smiles back and then carefully steps into the bath and, hoping he hasn’t misread the invitation, slides back, fitting himself between the Russian’s legs, to lean his back against Vincent’s chest with a sigh.
Vincent wraps his arms around the young Swede, sighing happily as he feels Eskil’s weight sink against him.
“And if you really do want to dress me up, you’re more than welcome to…” he mumbles, closing his eyes, “I’m hopeless with clothing and I may whine and sulk, but I know you would make me look very handsome…”
“You already do,” Eskil replies, putting his own arms atop Vincent’s. “Not that I wouldn’t endeavour to get you into a handsome suit that would help show off just how good looking you are, but really... you don’t need to just to please me.”
“Mm, no, I need to buy new clothes...I just...I hate it…” Vincent mumbles, sounding rather childish as he sinks into the water a little more, “But you’re sweet to call me handsome. After last night, I might start believing that you mean it, dolce.”
“Well, if sucking your cock is what it takes for you to see how handsome you are I’ll keep doing that,” Eskil murmurs, grinning a little.
Vincent wasn’t expecting that, and he raises his head from the water, laughing.
“Esse! Please! I mean...wow...but...not when I’m behind you like this!”
Eskil tilts his head so he can look at Vincent from the corner of his eyes with a wicked little smile on his face. “Hmm, I suppose I should wait until you’re less trapped,” he says wiggling a little against Vincent.
“H-Ha...Eskil…” Vincent pleads, the friction being too much for a man who woke up hard and who is currently pressed up against an irresistibly attractive young Swede.
“You’re such a tease...whatever happened to the shy little Count who could barely ask for a kiss, hm?”
Eskil stops his antics and stills, his wicked smile turning fond and soft. “You did.”
Vincent’s expression softens too, and a warm smile spreads across his face.
“Can I make a small confession, Esse?” he says, nuzzling against the young man’s hair. He rather hopes Eskil will let him wash it--an excuse to see the Count with damp hair. Vincent assumes he will look rather like a wet puppy.
“Of course, Vincent,” Eskil replies, too comfortable in this bath and in Vincent’s arm to start worrying about what it might be the other man has to say.
“Last night, I thought there was no chance that you’d ever want to sleep with me again, if we got that far. I assumed you’d see my grey hairs and my scars and be disgusted...though too polite to say anything. But...unless I’m horribly mistaken...I think we’re rather wonderful together.”
Vincent lets out a little exhale, hoping his words have not been spoken too soon.
Eskil blinks rapidly a few times, discouraging the tears that wants to well up there, and he smiles as his poor young heart can barely take it - that honest admission. “Oh Vincent,” he sighs, a bit lost for words, “I think... I think we can be good for each other too.”
“I don’t want to get ahead of myself…” Vincent continues, choosing his words carefully, “but...you know I have a lot of affection for you, don’t you? As well as finding you incredibly irresistible, as you can probably...uh...feel.”
“Yes, to both things,” Eskil answers. “And... I don’t want to rush this... thing we’re having but... you should know that you have very quickly become very important to me,” he nods. Then his smile dims and he grows thoughtful, chewing on his lip a little nervously. “I... after what happened last night I... well I would understand if you don’t want to sleep together after... afterwards,” he says quietly.
“You are important to me too…” Vincent assures him, nuzzling against his hair. Though when he sees Eskil’s face fall a little, he moves to tighten his grip on the Swede, holding him closer.
“Don’t be silly…” Vincent mumbles, a hint of seriousness to his tone, “How could I sleep alone, knowing you might be so terrified, with no-one to comfort you? I won’t pretend I wasn’t frightened last night, but I would never leave you. Not if you needed me.”
He isn’t crying, but he does sniffle a bit. “I... I just don’t want you to feel obligated to... you... you didn’t know I can be... such a mess.”
“Don’t get upset…” Vincent mutters, in more of a plead than a command, “You’re not a mess. You just happen to have nightmares sometimes. Everyone does. And I want to be there to help you, when you’re scared. You’re not asking for too much.”
The boy’s bottom lip quivers, but he bites back against the tears. Vincent doesn’t know. And right now he doesn’t need to know. Eskil’s left that life behind him and this is the present and he should stop thinking about the past and focus on the man holding him instead. “You’re too kind to me, Vincent... but I can live with that,” he says with a brave little smile.
Vincent chuckles at that--happy that Eskil seems to be cheering up.
“Can I ask a horrid favour of you?” he asks, excited to see if he will get his wish of washing those lovely curls.
Pushing all other thoughts down down down for later Eskil raises an eyebrow and gives a wry little smile. “I suppose if you must,” he teases.
Vincent grins, hoping Eskil won’t find his request to be a hopelessly strange one:
“Can I please wash your hair for you, Esse?”
Eskil looks surprised but hardly offended. “I, yes, if you’d like - of course.”
“Do you have anything you use on it? I’m hopeless with hair...things.” he admits, though he’s already running his fingers through Eskil’s curls.
“Mmm,” Eskil sighs, pleased with the attention spent on his curls, and lazily gestures to another small bottle on the rack just by the bath.
Vincent strains and reaches over, picking up a small glass bottle.
“This one?” he asks, thinking that they all look rather similar.
“Yes, that one will be nice... smells like cypress,” Eskil murmurs, eyes half closed, and his smile content.
The older man places the bottle onto the side of the bath, sinking back down into the water with an excited little smile. He really does like doing things for Eskil, especially when he gets to play with his hair.
“Can you move forward a tiny bit, dolce, so I can lower your head into the water?” he asks, as sweetly as possible.
Eskil doesn’t answer in any other way than doing what he’s asked and letting out another content little sigh. This is ridiculously nice, it’s silly really, but there’s few things in this world that’s quite as comforting as having someone lavish attention on his hair he thinks.
Vincent gently takes hold of the young man’s head, cupping his cheeks from behind and making sure to avoid going anywhere near Eskil’s throat, he gently urges Esse down into the water, exhaling a happy little sigh. This. This is all Vincent’s wanted for so long, and it feels fantastic.
Eskil looks up then, his curls feathering out in the water each and everywhere, and he smiles at Vincent - trying to wordlessly convey just how much he enjoys this.
Vincent holds him there for a moment, smiling back as he watches those glorious curls darken in the water. After he is satisfied that Esse’s hair is thoroughly damp, he gently lifts the young man’s head out of the water, urging him back to his chest.
“Time to make you smell pretty…” he teases, reaching for the bottle.
“Don’t I always,” Eskil chuckles as he leans back once again against the other man. “You’re spoiling me...”
“I adore spoiling you rotten…” Vincent murmurs, unscrewing the lid of the bottle and pouring a little of its contents onto his free hand, “You deserve it, Esse.”
He’d protest if he weren’t so blissed out, but luckily he is - and he just grins and relaxes, dangerously close to dozing off under Vincent’s caring hands.
Vincent places the bottle back down and briefly rubs his hands together before beginning the massage, slowly working through Eskil’s wet curls as he massages the young man’s scalp. He notices Eskil appears to be drifting off, but Vincent doesn’t mind. The poor thing deserves some sleep.
“Hmmhff,” the Swede, well, says isn’t technically true since it isn’t a word, though it sounds by the tone of his voice like it’s meant to be something appreciative regarding Vincent’s efforts, before he actually does fall asleep.
“Esse?” Vincent whispers, still caressing the boy’s scalp. The poor darling looks exhausted--Vincent wonders how Eskil coped with his nightmares when there was no-one there to comfort him. Vincent doesn’t think he could be half as strong as Eskil is, and he finds his admiration for the boy growing even stronger.
This time around there doesn’t seem to be any horrible surprises though, and even if the boy still mumbles in Swedish as he sleeps - he sounds happy and content and nuzzles closer to Vincent.
Vincent chuckles, gently lowering the boy’s head into the warm water again, just enough to get enough of his hair wet that Vincent can do the rest himself, scooping up small amounts of water to rinse through the rest of Eskil’s curls. Vincent is so, so terribly relieved to see him sleep peacefully.
Staying asleep in a bathtub whilst being moved around - no matter how gently - isn’t the easiest though and Eskil re-awakens, a little bleary-eyed but smiling. “Did I fall asleep on you? Didn’t mean to do that but you’re fingers in my hair is like magic...”
“You did, Esse…” Vincent says, with a chuckle, swiftly adding, “But don’t worry, I’m glad you like it…” Though he’s finished rinsing the young man’s hair, Vincent can’t help but continue the massage, rubbing gentle little circles over Eskil’s head.
“Mmm,” Eskil hums, “so nice... but if you keep that up I’ll fall asleep again and then we’d both be trapped in the bath when the water gets cold.”
“Well then, perhaps I can continue the massage in bed, hm?” Vincent murmurs, the slightest hint of arousal to his tone. He knows Eskil is tired, though, and he’d rather the boy slept if he needed it.
“I’d like that,” Eskil murmurs, and then rubs at his eyes trying to wake himself up enough to actually get out of the bath.
“Would you like me to carry you, Esse?” Vincent asks with a little smirk, only half-joking.
Eskil laughs. “No, no, I’ll manage,” he says and begins to rise out of the tub, stretching and yawning once he has both feet safely under him on the bathroom floor. He picks up one of the towels - though he doesn’t bother drying off but instead wraps it around himself.
Vincent removes the bath plug before stepping out of the water himself, grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist. The towel is incredibly soft, Vincent isn’t used to it--does he even own a towel any more?--though there is something rather more pressing on his mind. He pulls Eskil into a warm and rather damp embrace, hopefully smelling a little better than he did when he awoke.
Eskil leans against him, nuzzling the crook of his neck, sighing. “We should dry off...”
Vincent takes the young man’s reply as a request, and he lifts another towel up, moving it to Eskil’s curls as he begins to dry the Swede’s hair for him.
It wasn’t in fact a request but Esse damn sure isn’t going to complain about having his hair dried for him. “Spoiling me,” he murmurs sleepily.
“Of course I am...I’m always going to spoil you.” Vincent says with a smile, rubbing the towel through Eskil’s hair. “I am going to dote on you until you are absolutely sick of me.”
Eskil smiles against Vincent’s neck, but he is pretty much half-asleep still and words are slow to come to him. “Sweet... fuzzy bear,” he mumbles.
“Do you want to go to bed?” Vincent murmurs, with a smile, “I can dry your hair for you there, if you like, before you fall asleep in your bathroom…”
Eskil forces his eyes open once more and nods. “Yes, good idea,” he says and starts taking a few shuffling steps towards the bedroom door.
Vincent takes the poor sleepy thing’s hand, leading him towards his own bed.
“Nearly there…” he laughs, “You can sleep all you like, now.”
The Russian does wonder if Eskil’s nightmares might return once he falls into a deeper sleep, but he doesn’t let that bother him now. If it happens, it happens, and Vincent will do his best to comfort Eskil when he needs it.
Eskil rather ungracefully flops down onto the bed and curls into the blankets. Like a sleepy child reaching for a toy Eskil stretches his arms towards Vincent; “Come here, please.”
“I’m coming, sweet thing…” Vincent says with a chuckle, still holding the towel as he climbs onto the bed and curls up next to Eskil, shifting himself so he still has room to dry the young man’s hair.
“Good to me,” the sleepy Swede babbles, “so good to me, and kind and handsome and sweet and...” he trails of with a yawn. “Happy you’re here.”
Vincent beams at the Swede’s compliments, full of pride and warmth.
“I’m happy to be here, Esse…” he murmurs, gently rubbing the towel through Eskil’s hair, unable to stop smiling. He hopes that Eskil’s words mean that he will, finally, enjoy a pleasant sleep.
“... good to me,” Eskil manages to mumble one last time before he drifts off again, falling asleep with a blissed out little smile on his lips and cheeks rosey after their shared bath.
