Hey baby won't you look my way
I can be your new addiction

15 April, 1890 — Emrys' House, Bristol

This whole thing had gone on far too long.

When he'd told Christobal he could stay, he'd been envisioning maybe a week or two, but if the painter had any intention of leaving soon he hadn't brought it up to Emrys. Not that he minded the man's company in a general sense, but the restrictions his presence placed on Emrys' free use of the house (or rather, the restrictions Emrys had placed on himself regarding the free use of the house while Christobal was here) were much harder to deal with. He couldn't have any parties unless they were the sort he could invite a penniless painter to, and he couldn't invite any guests over unless they were from the same friend circle — which meant, practically, that he wasn't having sex, and he was tired of it. If Christobal was going to keep living here, he was going to have to contribute something to offset the lack of company Emrys was currently experiencing.

Emrys didn't really know whether Christobal was open to that sort of thing, but he was the sort who could be — sexual preferences were only limited by one's imagination, after all, and Christobal was a man of imagination — so before giving him the formal boot, Emrys had decided to stage a little opportunity for him to prove his company was worth the inconvenience. Not that he would know that was what he was doing — at least, not if everything went well.

After telling the servants to give the entire upstairs corridor a wide berth, Emrys had drawn up a steaming hot bubble bath in the bathroom that opened onto the hall nearest Christobal's room. If he came or went, he'd have to walk right by the door, which was, of course, conveniently left ajar. With all of the bubbles it wasn't as though he would see anything, at least not right away — but he'd see enough to give him pause, Emrys thought. With his wand out of sight but within reach, Emrys stretched out in the bath tub. He could use a charm to reheat the water if it got cold — he was willing to wait this out as long as necessary, like a hunter waiting for his unsuspecting prey.

Christobal Vainart

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   Christobal Vainart

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Lou made this! <3

Christobal had gotten a client who wanted him to paint a pornographic painting of some sort of ex, which would pay well. Well enough for him to rent a modest room for a couple of months. That being said, Christobal didn't really want to leave the Selwyn house. Emrys hadn't told him anything about him leaving, so he was planning on overstaying until he did. Why would he willfully leave a nice, big house to go back to living to a tiny London apartment?

After a long day of work, Christobal needed a bath. This was a luxurious habit he had taken up at Emrys' house. He didn't really have a separate room serving as a bathroom in his old houses and rather, took a bath in a wooden bathtub in the middle of the room that served as his entire house. It really wasn't that exciting to care for his body's hygiene under those circumstances, even if he could tinker with the room's temperature.

Wrapped in a bath-robe (borrowed from Emrys, as well), he headed to the bathroom, only to find out that it was already used.

"Emrys!" Christobal let out a startled call. His friend was in the bathtub. Naked. At least, with all the bubbles, he couldn't see below his stomach.

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Well, that hadn't taken long at all. The water was still steaming when Christobal appeared in the doorway — and he was already undressed. How terribly convenient. Emrys wondered fleetingly whether it was possible that Christobal had somehow guessed his game and changed into a robe before coming over on purpose, but that was silly. Christobal wasn't cunning enough to have planned a seduction, and — well, Emrys still wasn't sure whether he even slept with men, so. It would certainly have been a bold strategy, to say the least.

"Oh, Christobal," he answered almost lazily, clearly not perturbed by the site of his friend in the doorway in the slightest. He did sink a little lower into the tub, but it was obviously a gesture intended to increase his comfort in the bath, not to hide any of his chest. As though anyone who knew him in the capacity Christobal did would be surprised by his lack of modesty. "How convenient — could you bring that bottle from the shelf over this way? You'll save me the trip."

  

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Lou made this! <3

This was all terribly awkward. Even though he would sometimes have frankly vulgar conversations with Emrys, he felt like a blushing virgin about the entire situation. He really didn't like being in a fancy bathroom, in a robe, with another man.

Before he could excuse himself, Emrys asked him to pass him a bottle. Christobal couldn't really deny him the favour. He had also left his wand in his room, so he couldn't simply levitate the bottle to Emrys, without coming any closer to him.

He picked up the bottle (it appeared to be some sort of cosmetic potion) and walked up to the bathtub. "You don't want me to shampoo your hair as well, do you?" he asked in a joking manner, though he sounded awkward, rather than his usual playful tone.

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Emrys chuckled at Christobal's question, but didn't answer it. "Are you that taken with your new position as the butler?" he joked as he reached out to take the bottle. His tone held none of the awkwardness that Christobal's did; he'd done this (or, not this, but things like it) before and he was quite comfortable making allusions while keeping his cool. Christobal, on the other hand, looked quite flustered, though Emrys couldn't tell if it was the sort of flustered that was the result of being aroused and confused about it or the sort of flustered that didn't lead to anything fun. Time would tell, he supposed.

"Besides, this is lotion, not shampoo," he pointed out as he unscrewed the cap and poured a generous amount of the light-yellow liquid onto his forearm. "It makes your skin deliciously soft," he said, lingering over the word as he set the bottle down on the floor next to the bath and started to rub it in, flexing the muscles in his arm as he did so — just in case Christobal was noticing. "Have you ever used it?"

  

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Lou made this! <3

Christobal wasn't especially surprised that Emrys used lotions to make his skin softer. He was rich and rich people tended to be eccentric. If Christobal was as rich as him, he would probably do more in regards to grooming than Emrys did. Get a pedicure or something of that sort.

"Oh yes," Christobal replied with light sarcasm. "And then I put on my Lytton nightrobe and drink a cocktail." If only!

"Do you smell like flowers and a whore's tit now?"

  

Emrys frowned lightly at Christobal's response, but kept his attention mainly on the lotion. "Don't be vulgar," he chided mildly. His hopes that this little interlude would end the way he'd envisioned were shrinking significantly, but he wasn't entirely ready to give up on it yet. Of all the men in the world, how could Christobal have been entirely heterosexual? With the type of company he kept, he could hardly be a prude. Emrys supposed it was possible that the artist might have been open-minded enough to be open to the possibility, but not interested in him particularly — but that sort of thinking hurt his pride, so he discarded it. He was charming, after all, and reasonably handsome. Above all else, he was convenient, which counted for a lot. It was the only reason he was trying to seduce Christobal in the first place, after all — he was more convenient than anyone else.

"I think this one smells of vanilla," he continued as if this conversation were the most natural one in the world to be having in the bath. "What do you think?"

  

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Lou made this! <3

Was Emrys inviting him to smell him? Well, he couldn't really voice an opinion on the lotion's smell from where he was. He'd have to get close. Emrys felt like a burning, hot nuclear reactor, yet Christobal felt compelled to walk up closer to him.

Christobal had convinced himself that he was most decidedly anti homosexual, that the notion of touching a man, or being touched by a man, was disgusting, even the thought of it. Yet, seeing male genitalia... excited him, before he felt ashamed for it and that translated as disgust. Also, when he bedded women, he often wondered what it was like to be on the receiving end.

In any case, he wasn't about to jump in Emrys' bathtub and make out with him.

He was close enough to smell him, though.

"Mmm yes, you do smell like pastry now," he commented awkwardly.

  

"Pastry," Emrys repeated dryly, unamused. Pastry wasn't exactly sexy, in his opinion. Nevermind that Christobal's demeanor was still unbearably awkward. Even if he'd wanted to forge ahead on this little venture, he wasn't sure how he could manage a smooth transition from a comment like that. Pastry.

No, best to give up. If he stopped here, he could salvage his dignity — he'd done a fair job so far of pretending that this conversation was entirely normal for someone who enjoyed luxury, and since he hadn't overtly come on to the other man he could go on pretending that and it was unlikely the artist would ever bring it up to anyone else. He would have to ask him to leave if he was going to be this inconvenient, but that could wait a few days. Christobal didn't need to know that he was being asked to vacate specifically because he was preventing Emrys from getting laid, and waiting a while between the failed seduction attempt and his request to have his spare bedroom back would help obfuscate the real reasoning behind the request.

"Anyway," he said dismissively, hoping Christobal would get the hint and leave. For his part, Emrys sunk his head down to almost below the bubbles in the water so that he wouldn't notice when the artist did depart.

  

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Lou made this! <3