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Soup of the Evening

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Peter was leaning on the edge of the tub, staring at Elias as he bathed, letting his arm dangle in the bath. The ruins of a torn apart bouquet littered the tile leading to the tub. Peter's romantic streak--he'd promised something about how his love's tender feet would always tread on flowers, and Elias had threatened to step on his balls.

"You're getting your sleeve wet," Elias said.

Peter looked at the cuff of his sleeve, rolled high on his forearm and stained dark pink by the water. "So I am."

His face was pink with champagne, or the heat rising from the bath, or the light bouncing off his shirt. It made him look warm and human, made his blue eyes bright as dots of summer ocean. Elias felt Peter's fingers brush his calf.

"Why don't you get that shirt off and come in here with me?" he suggested.

Peter shifted up onto his knees, raising his cheek from the rim of the tub. Seeming not to notice what Elias had said, he leaned forward and reached down to grab Elias's ankle. His fingers just barely met around it. Being reminded of his husband's size always sent a charge through Elias. He grasped the sides of the tub, ready for Peter to playfully tug him forward into the water, but Peter surprised him instead.

He raised Elias's foot, his calf emerging from the water, peering at it with an intensity that was loving or a little idiotic--like he'd never noticed legs before. He pressed his whiskered cheek against Elias's ankle, stroking his foot and calf.

"How are your legs so pretty?"

"Probably the stair machine."

"What about the hair? How do you make it grow that way?"

Elias had shaved his legs one time, when he was new to the body, because the previous occupant had, and the stubble was ugly. Then he'd decided not to bother, and had left it alone since. "Believe it or not, it's one of those things that take care of themselves." 

Peter was brushing his fingers along the surface of Elias's calf with his free hand, painting the clinging wet hairs into feathery paths. Despite the heat of the bath, a shiver ran through Elias. "Just how much did you have to drink? You look concussed."

Peter frowned. "I'm not concussed, I'm adoring you. What about this foot?" He slid his hand down Elias's calf to the sole of his foot. This body wasn't ticklish--Elias had checked when he was shopping around--but he was getting hard from the attention. "Why's it so beautiful?"

"Good genes, or because I take a modicum of care of myself, or because you love me and you're sentimental." Peter's thumb stroked the bridge of his foot. "You're not going to suck my toes, are you?"

"That's an idea." Both Peter's hands were involved now, spreading Elias's toes, considering.

"I'd lose what little respect for you--"

And he did it. He swallowed the first two toes on Elias's foot, ran his tongue between them, and Elias may not have been ticklish, but his back arched as a tension began to wind up his spine. He batted a scrill of foamy water at Peter, soaking him.

"It's gone. You're-" Peter sucked, and Elias could feel his breath skate cold across his wet skin, "-you're divorced. Take your name and get out."

Peter couldn't resist answering, so he had to take Elias's foot out of his mouth, but he didn't let Elias go, no. He reached into the bath and seized Elias's other ankle, and Elias barely caught himself in time to keep his head above water.

"Mmhmm, not until I suck every one of your little toesies," Peter's voice was disgustingly singsong, "and nibble your little nipples like a hungry halibut, and then stick my thumb up your bum and suck your ear--"

"That's not going to do it for-"

"Suck your sweet little dwinky--" Elias's ring hit Peter in the forehead and dropped with a clunk to the bottom of the tub. Peter blinked up at Elias beween his ankles, looking like a sad dog who'd been caught in a rainstorm. His hair was plastered to his head, shirt soaked dark pink, water beaded in the dark chest hair that showed through in the open vee.

"Something the matter, darling?"

"Yes, Peter. I'm legally and morally bound to a degenerate for the rest of my life. I swore 'in sickness' without knowing how sick it would get."

"I'll probably die first."

Elias gave an ecstatic gasp and bit his lip. "Do it tonight."

"Come on, darling, help me find your ring. You're hurting my feelings."

To Elias's disappointment, Peter unhanded him, groping around beneath the water. Elias let his feet drop to the bottom of the tub. Ah! He felt the lost ring beneath his foot and trapped it there against the bottom of the tub. Peter was still searching and didn't notice.

"I'll put it back on when I love you again."

"We should make sure it's somewhere safe at least. Here, help me look." At last something had cut through Peter's giddiness. He seemed seriously worried the ring was actually gone. Elias watched him feel around the seam around the plug. "Why've you got to turn your bath into a soup?" he groused, thrashing the foam on top of the water, "how am I supposed to see anything?"

"Just take the plug out. I'm clean anyway."

"It'll slip down the drain, if it hasn't already!"

"Then buy me a new one." Elias's toes curled against the ring. He heard the faint rasp of gold on porcelain, but Peter didn't notice. "It's not as though you couldn't afford it."

Peter looked up at Elias, braced on his arms against the bottom of the tub, betrayed. "It wouldn't be the same."

"There's nothing else to do, then," Elias said seriously, "you've got to drink the water."

Peter looked at him.

Elias looked back expectantly.

Peter's brows lowered.

Elias felt his lips twitch slightly and tried to school his face into seriousness.

Peter lowered his head toward the water, eyes locked steadily onto Elias's, pushed his lips to the surface, and slurped.

"How is it?" Elias wondered, holding back laughter, "Better than seawater?"

"Beautiful!" Peter exclaimed throatily. "It's beautiful soup. Delicious!" He plunged his whole head into the water, then surfaced and shook off. Elias tried not to think about the wet wall and the wet floor and the cleaner who wouldn't be in again for another five days.

Peter ladeled hand after hand of bathwater to his lips, and he was being theatrical about it, but a lot of it was going down. Elias was starting to get a bit horrified. He leaned forward and grabbed Peter. "Enough, dammit! You idiot!"

Peter kissed him, and it could have been worse. He couldn't even taste the lavender, just wet heat and the sweet lingering vapor of the alcohol, and then, as the kiss deepened, just Peter. His warm tongue moving against Elias's deftly, texture catching on texture. When they broke apart, Elias could feel sweat standing on his face

Peter peered at him. "You look half boiled."

"More like scoured," Elias managed, clearing his throat. "You need a shave."

"I need more soup." Elias was confused for a moment. "More soup!" And Peter heaved himself into the tub, fully clothed, "I'm going to drink every drop--" The surface of the water swelled as he dropped in, swaying up and over the rim of the tub. "And then I'm going to slurp up your hot, wet little body off the bottom like a ramen noodle." He settled atop Elias, looking very hungry.

"Hello." Elias looked up at Peter, one knee slung over the edge of the tub to let him in close.

"Hello down there." Peter did his best to push against Elias' tumescence. "Let's see what you've got in your hands." A quick wrestling match followed, during which Elias thrashed and gasped, trying to keep his hands away, and his head above water and not let his foot up from the ring. It ended with Peter holding Elias out of the water by his wrists.

"Open up."

Elias spread his fingers, nearly laughing at Peter's disappointment.

"Where is it?" Peter looked around, down, reached beneath the water. His eyes were hot and triumphant as his index finger breached Elias's hole. "Did you hide it in here?"

"Why don't you--ah--feel around?"

A second big finger joined the first. Elias was already full. Peter drove in, the rest of his fingers splayed in the flesh of Elias's cheeks. Elias had to lean back on his elbows to manage the angle, and he felt his cock break the surface of the water. Peter glanced down but opted to ignore the shining scarlet head. The pads of his fingers nudged Elias's prostate.

"Oho. I think I feel something in there. What is that?"

Elias didn't bother trying to stop himself squirming. As long as the ring stayed beneath his foot…

"Poke around. And find out," he challenged between breaths, chin just clear of the water.

Peter could stand to touch him like this more, Elias thought. When he did penetrate Elias, he didn't tend to do more than stroke his hole open before sticking it in. The deep, gentle movements of his big fingers inside Elias were awakening a burning urgency in his groin that made his body roll in the water. He heard himself making pained, struggling little gasps. He sucked a little water up his sinuses and it stung all the way down the back of his throat.

Peter, looming over him, barely needed to move. Forearm submerged, shirt billowing away from his body where it met the water. All he had to do was crook his fingers into Elias, and Elias was hooked, twitching like a fish on a line. Peter looked pleased with himself.

"Why aren't--" more water down the wrong pipe snd Elias coughed. There was the lavender, perfumey and burning the ceiling of his throat. "--aren't you sucking my cock?"

"Why darling, I thought you'd never ask. Go on." Peter let his wet shirtfront drag against the head of Elias's cock. "Say 'pretty please, Peter, suck my dwinky!'"

"I'm not saying that."

"Then you're not getting your dwinky sucked." Peter smiled benevolently down at him. "But I'll let you keep fucking my fingers, how's that?"

It felt like a hot knot blocking his balls. He was so pent up he was starting to ache. Maybe the knot would loosen if Peter would pull his fingers out or Elias could stop moving against them. A wave of cold raced the heat of the bath across the surface of Elias's skin. He choked on nothing.

"L-let's make a deal," Elias proposed.

Peter pushed a little harder against his prostate, sending a burning bolt out from the spot. "Go on…"

Elias's elbows were starting to tremble with the effort of holding himself up. "I-I'll put my ring back on if you suck me off."

After that, it was over quickly. Peter, used to Elias's rhythms, pulled his mouth away just in time to let him make a mess of the bath. He should have been annoyed, but he was so wonderfully loose, it was all he could do to keep his head above water.

Peter found the ring beneath Elias's foot, and he allowed him to slide it back onto his finger. It went on more easily this time than it had at the altar. Elias looped heavy arms around Peter's broad back, and raised himself, bobbing, to the top of the water to kiss him.

They left Peter's clothes floating on top of the water as Peter carried him to bed.