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As soon as Bard opened the door of the loft he shared with his husband Thranduil, pleasant fragrances of flowers and good wine flowed upon him like soft caresses against his skin. He took a deep, relieved breath as he stepped inside after removing his shoes and putting them aside, and smiled: it felt good to be home after twenty-four hours of service and sleeping on the casern's old worn couch. He had quickly begun to miss his bed and Thranduil's reassuring presence next to him so much that he looked forward to the evening for far more reasons than just having a good night's rest.
Bard wanted to curl against the brightest light of his life, gently stroke his back and hold his hand, play with the soft locks of his beautiful silvery hair and scatter a thousand kisses across his ivory skin. He wanted to massage his tensed shoulders and feel the muscles relax under his touch. He wanted to bring him in a tender embrace and tell him how much he loved him.
But all that would have to wait: no one but Bard was home yet, for it was only 3:30. The children wouldn't be home for at least an hour and Thranduil, well, could arrive at any time now. Bard just hoped his work wouldn't hold him back for too long.
Bard smiled to himself as he headed to the kitchen; he desperately needed a drink. A hot shower too. And some music. He poured himself a glass of ACE juice before going to the bathroom and closing the white door behind him. He took a sip of the drink and put the glass aside. Bard started the radio which played some song he had never heard before, and then proceeded to take off his shirt, followed by his socks and his pants, leaving him naked, save for the pink underwear patterned with rainbow unicorns Thranduil had gifted him for their 5th anniversary. (As a joke, but Bard wore it anyway. It wasn't as if anyone other than his husband would see him like this.) He got the shower running to get the water hot before deciding a bath would actually be nice for once. Hopefully Thranduil would arrive shortly.
And that's when YMCA started playing.
Before he could stop himself, Bard's body reacted, slightly at first with some shy movements of his hips and head as memories of parties from his youth flooded over him. But then... he quickly couldn't help it and just danced along.
*
The first thing Thranduil saw as he entered their home were Bard's boots next to the door. The first thing he heard was one of those songs Tilda loved so much on the radio, coming from the bathroom. The first thing he thought about was how happy he felt to know his husband was back and safe. He went to the kitchen first, chose a bottle of wine and poured himself a glass just as Bard had chosen juice not five minutes sooner, then another.
Inside the bathroom, the music had changed to YMCA and as he opened the door, the sight he was offered was absolutely priceless: there, covered only by pink rainbow unicorns underwear, his dear firefighter husband was dancing along the music, and not shyly, oh no. He was completely caught up in the song, and even singing, using a shampoo bottle as mic.
In that instant, Thranduil regretted having his two hands full and no camera. It was definitely hard not to burst out laughing.
“You're terrible,” Thranduil stated with a grin, loud enough to be heard over the radio and Bard's singing. “That's embarrassing.”
Bard dropped the bottle in surprise and quickly turned to meet Thranduil's amused gaze, a huge smile lighting up his face as their eyes met for the first time in a bit more than twenty-four hours. Thranduil took on a suspicious expression as his husband took two steps forward and gently grabbed the glasses from his hands, hurriedly put them aside on the bath tub's edge and went for Thranduil's hands again, though with enthusiasm, and still dancing.
“Come on Thran, there's just us!” he said as he tried to make Thranduil move a bit now he wasn't holding anything that could ruin their white bath mat. Despite the fact that there was always wine around in the loft, they had never thought about using carpets of other colours.
“No way I'm dancing to that.”
Bard shrugged with a fake disappointed look and kept on dancing on his own, not leaving Thranduil's eyes for a second. It was all utterly ridiculous, but he couldn't help but smile fondly. His gaze wandered over his husband's body; fine muscles rolled under his skin as he moved. He loved everything about Bard, from his slightly curled hair to his hazel eyes to his facial hair to his jaw, and his neck, and his chest to his perfectly defined abs, to the hair going from his navel to under his underpants. Even his feet and rough hands, yet so soft.
One of the things he loved most about Bard's physique was the tattoo covering his shoulder. It was a regal elk's bust, looking proud and magnificent. But what made it so special was what Bard had said about it four years before: that it had a new meaning now, for it reminded him of Thranduil.
Unfortunately the song faded out, being replaced with the weather forecast. Bard caught his breath, having given all he had left for the song. After a look at the bath, he turned to Thranduil, still watching him and leaning against the door. He gestured to the glasses of wine with a nod of his head, grinning.
“Isn't it a bit early for wine, love?”
“It's never too early for wine,” Thranduil answered with a smirk.
Bard smiled. “Aye, of course. I should have known.” He closed the distance between them, went up on his tiptoes and brought their lips together in a sweet kiss of welcome.
Instinctively Thranduil's hand found its way on Bard's neck, the other resting on his heart, and he deepened the kiss a little as Bard's fingers followed the lines of the burns on Thranduil's cheek with great tenderness.
They only broke apart to look into each other's eyes, which spoke a thousand words.
“Will you have a bath with me?” Bard asked softly, playing with Thranduil's black shirt's button.
“Mmh...” Thranduil faked being in deep thinking, but his little smile told a completely different story. “What do I get in return?”
“I'll massage your head, just as you like it.”
Thranduil's smile widened, and he leaned forward to put a kiss on his lover's lips. “Deal.”
They both knew they didn't need any deal. Just as they knew Thranduil would have joined him and Bard massaged Thranduil's head. But teasing was always a sweet mix of fun and cheesiness they happened to love a lot.
Bard proceeded to unclothe his husband, starting with his shirt which revealed a soft-looking ivory skin, scattered with burns all across the left side of his body. Before he could get to Thranduil's pants, as if the radio had felt the mood, it started playing a calmer music, close to a slow. They exchanged soft smiles and Bard took a step backward, only to extend his hand to his husband.
“Shall we dance, Mr. Bowman?” he asked, eyes sparkling.
“It would be my pleasure, Mr. Oropherion,” Thranduil replied, taking Bard's hand and bringing his husband close to him, pulling him into a light embrace.
Soon enough they were dancing slowly in rhythm with the song, smiling like the biggest idiots on Earth. Their love felt just like the first days, if not stronger. From time to time they kissed, only pausing to stop the water which filled the bathtub well enough now. They kept kissing softly, whether it be on lips or corners of their mouth or on cheeks, just enjoying the moment.
Until they got a bit closer to the bath tub and there was a small "thud" which made Bard look behind him.
“Oh no,” he let out as his face turned white.
“What is it?” Thranduil inquired, raising an eyebrow. Then realization crept its way on his features and he half winced, half smiled. “Don't tell me you...”
Bard bit his bottom lip, looking up at his husband sheepishly, swaying on his feet. “Weeell.”
“Oh my god, you did.” He looked at the floor behind Bard and, as expected, one of their glasses had fallen from the bath tub's edge, spilling the wine all over the mat, staining it red. Another one they would try to save and probably wouldn't succeed to.
“I'm sorry, love.”
Thranduil shrugged, a small smile lighting up his face. “Remind me why we only have white carpets already,” Thranduil stated more than he asked with a heavy sigh, though it didn't actually bother him that much.
Bard's gaze turned playful as he kissed the corner of Thranduil's mouth. “I don't know, you tell me.”
*
Not five minutes later found the mat in the washing machine, and Bard in his bath as he stared at Thranduil who wouldn't go in with him without their soundtrack of "The Theory of Everything" playing. Once the light music filled the room, his husband smiled and finally took off pants and underwear, taking something in the cupboard and hiding it behind his back, before he joined Bard in the hot water.
“What's that?” Bard asked as Thranduil managed to settle down between Bard's legs and lean against his chest without letting him see what it was he was holding.
“Nothing.” Bard could practically hear his husband's grin. “Just wait.”
Thranduil immediately went back to a sitting posture, testing different positions in order to find the most comfortable for both of them, the first one being apparently not good enough. As their bath tub was quite... huge, the possibilities were large. They could even sit next to each other and Thranduil had plenty of place for his long legs. Bard remembered fondly his reaction the first time they entered the bathroom on the day they had visited the loft. He had shared a long look with Thranduil and they had known instantly that if they were to choose this place as their new home, the bathroom would play a big part in their final decision. It had, obviously.
He finally chose to face Bard, their legs twining, much to Bard's disappointment: he prefered the first position much more, but he didn't say anything as he guessed it was just part of Thranduil's plan. Or whatever it was. And indeed, Thranduil finally extended his hand between them, holding something round and night sky blue and glittering with a little smirk. Oh, right.
Galaxy bath bomb.
Thranduil always had a thing with bath bombs, but Bard had thought there weren't any left from their last bath together, at least a month ago. It would seem he was wrong.
“Go on then, you gorgeous space princess,” Bard said as he gestured to the soap ball with a grin.
Thranduil stuck out his tongue at him but happily obliged, letting go of the bath bomb which fell in the water and slowly melted, spreading colours and glitter. Soon enough their bath looked like the sky on a clear summer night in the countryside, with dark shades of purple and blue. Thranduil was in awe, despite the fact that it was his favourite bomb, and Bard had stopped counting how many times he had found his husband in such a bath over the past years.
Only then did Thranduil apparently decide that he wanted Bard back closer to him. Except he didn't go for their initial position, oh no, he thought just leaning chest against chest just like in bed was much more interesting, and indeed it was, for Bard could stroke his husband's hair and search his eyes, and feel his warm breath against his skin. He was also pretty sure Thranduil would be purring if that was something humans did.
“How was work?” Thranduil asked in a conversational tone as he wrapped his arms around Bard's waist, rubbing soft circles with his thumbs.
“Exhausting,” Bard replied and shrugged, but he just couldn't help his smile from widening. “But I saved a few kittens. Yours?”
“As usual,” Thranduil said after a chuckle, and then whispered as he tenderly kissed Bard's neck. “I never stopped thinking about you.”
“Why wouldn't we adopt one?”
“Bard.”
“What?”
“I'm trying to be romantic here.”
“There's a black one, two white and a black and white one.”
“Bard.”
“The black and white one is really cute, you would love him.” He couldn't help his grin, knowing exactly what he was doing.
“Bard.”
“Oh come on, Thran'!” Bard exclaimed before he dropped an awful lot of kisses all over his husband's face.
Thranduil faked pouting, which wasn't really working as his smile didn't fall even for one second. As Bard didn't stop, he actually started giggling. They didn't care about the galaxy water escaping the bathtub, or the glasses which fell to the floor, staining the brand new fluffy mat. They were just two idiots in love who had had a huge impact on each other's lives, and they wouldn't change it for the world.
They ended up sitting under Bard's gentle instructions, as he lifted his hands to massage Thranduil's head expertly, despite the fact that it would have been easier if his husband wasn't facing him, but he wanted to look at him and take his features in over and over again: his little expressions, the way his gaze was brighter when it met his. They kept on for a few minutes, lost in each other's eyes, until Bard finally leaned forward to gently bring their waiting lips together.
Bard kissed his scars, his neck, the corner of his mouth, as his rough and wet hands wandered in the soft long hair, then caressed the skin of Thranduil's back. Every gesture was filled with tenderness and everlasting love that had never faded once since the first day. Thranduil had never wanted more and Bard had never asked for more, respecting his boundaries.
“Never leave me,” Thranduil said as his own fingers curled around Bard's hair and caressed his back's lightly shaded skin. It wasn't actually begging, for Thranduil knew what Bard's answer would be. He knew he had nothing to worry about anymore, be it the scars or anything else.
It was just good to hear it and remember he was loved, just as Bard loved to be reminded of such obvious things, too.
“Never.” Bard smiled genuinely and put a reassuring kiss on Thranduil's forehead.
A pause.
“So, is it okay for the kitten?”
“BARD.”