bakerstreet | Intimate Bathing

Intimate Bathing

the intimate bathing meme;

Grooming is an important part of many species' rituals. It keeps them clean, healthy, and content. And a good bath? It can change the whole tone of a day from terrible to relaxed and blissful.

But nudity is sometimes viewed as a weakness - and it is almost always sexualized - so bathing is often kept a private matter. If you do share these moments with someone, they're almost always a significant other or a sexual partner.

Like you're doing now.

Whether it be after a battle or after sex (or before sex, even), the two of you are going to get clean. Be sure to help each other out with that, won't you? After all, there are places on the back that just can't be reached...

HOW TO PLAY:

Comment with your character, your prefs, etc.
If there are other grooming-related practices or kinks you'd like to include, like shaving, hair washing, mention them!
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I took myself there. I wasn't going to the crazy house. [I ain't crazy.] Guess I was just...wondering. Even after all that you do this with me.

[Even if what they have remains purely physical it's still closer than Frank allowed any other since taking on the mantle of the Punisher. That's no easy feat.]

I know...it's because you think I'm good. What if I'm not?

I know. You'd already told me some of it; more I'd pieced together myself. I realize the angle spun on a lot of the information in the trial, but I was still just glad to know you were alive. Safe. I don't know what to do with myself when days go by without you showing up at my door, you know. I've grown to look forward to you.

[ Spoken fondly, hands keeping busy as she kneads into his back and up to his shoulders, getting better leverage when he wasn't right against her. There's the sound of water swishing as she shifts upright before she answers, murmured close to his skin. ]

You are. It runs as deeply in you as your nervous system. Remove that and there's nothing left to function.

[ Punctuated with a kiss between his shoulderblades, lingering, before she eases back and resumes her massage. His morals were strong; it had only been further confirmed when he'd refused a PTSD-supported case. Even without being present she's sure she knew his reasoning.

It would have tarnished those who were truly suffering. ]

[Frank knows it's too late to convince her otherwise the moment the soft touches and kisses and shows of affection didn't make him flinch, didn't make him pull away or make her stop. The moment he started to enjoy her company beyond that of a convenient ally, he ruined her life for good. That's his thought process, in any case.

Instead of answering her kind words he sighs heavily, eyes closed as he thinks. Her hands are as soothing as ever and he hates that he relies on this to feel human again, hates that he allows himself to indulge in the care and affection of a good woman. It's likely he'll never believe it when someone tells him he's good.]

Would you ever go back? [He mumbles after a few long, quiet moments, eyes still shut as he sits facing away from her.] ...Overseas. To help.

[ The lack of response eventually has her hands stilling before snaking around his waist, leaning forward to press herself against him, chest flattening against his back and cheek on a shoulderblade. She swirls idle circles along his stomach, listening to his heart, sure she can hear the turning of gears as he thinks. She can wait.

When his question finally surfaces, she wastes only a few seconds before answering. ]

My research here has been important and of more use going forward, but if my presence there would outweigh it here and I had the chance? I would go back in a heartbeat.

Why do you ask?

Just... curious. [There's another pause, brief this time, as he finds her leg under the water again, rubbing whatever part he can reach slowly.] There's a lot you know about me... I should ask more about you.

[And he wants to know more, too.]

I'm all ears, handsome. Ask whatever you'd like. It may be brutal caught in the war overseas, and there was a lot of tragedy that couldn't very well be avoided without pulling out entirely, but I think...

I think my skills were best applied there. I did a lot of good for a lot of people who would otherwise not have survived. It was hard spending nights at a critical patient's bedside hoping they'd pull through, soothing their brows and holding their hands when nightmares and flashbacks struck them, but it was worth it.

[ Her leg relaxes under his touch, curled easily in his lap as her thumbs find one of the last knots and begin to work it out carefully. ]

You know, I only ever lost four men. Two more long after they'd left my care and had come home. For the thousands of lives that have passed through my hands, and as much as I still mourn those losses, I am proud of that fact.

[Frank is quiet as he listens, completely interested. It's not often she openly shares pieces of herself and her past and Frank realizes it's because... he doesn't ask. What kind of friend doesn't ask? He's been so selfishly consumed in his own problems for so long.

Her words crack a small smile out of him though. It's obvious she cares. She wouldn't risk her life for the sake of others if that wasn't the case. Frank carries a deep respect for her.]

That is... impressive. [He comments quietly.] Those men were lucky to have you at their bedside.

[ The kind of friend who is busy with far more important things; the past is the past. He's fighting in the present. The fact that he didn't ask about her life has never mattered to her. He knew the here and now, he knew who she was— that was enough. That she had his trust meant more than anything in this friendship.

Eventually, her weight slumps forward and she's resting her cheek along his spine, hands slipping about his stomach to hug him, thumb circling his navel while the other slips up to press against his sternum, over his heart. She can hear it and feel it. He had a good strong, steady heart beat. It's a silly thing that she enjoys listening to it, but it's true. ]

I was lucky to have the chance to help them. To meet them, and give them what care I could before they left this world. Even if it was only for a few hours, it'd been an honor to share their last moments and learn their names.

[ She still remembers them all. She's certain she'll never forget. ]

[One of his hands finds hers on his stomach and cups over it, stroking his thumb over hers. It's a nice, warm feeling to be here with her, a peaceful one. It wouldn't even matter if they had sex or not, just being in her presence these days is... calming. Frank Castle needs some calming in his life.

He smiles some at her words, the sentiment understood. How many times had men and women like her saved his ass on the battlefield and thereafter? He didn't escape that war without battle wounds of his own.]

It's... people like you who help people like me, whether you mean to or not. [He mutters, and he doesn't just mean overseas.] Didn't think I deserved this for a long time. Sometimes I still don't. But you're... a good person, Ma'am. The people you help in the hospital every day know it too.

[ She's always willing to provide; his hand covers hers and she fans her fingers open for his to fall between, settling into stroking his stomach. Everyone needed a place to find some peace. If she could offer that to him and give him a warm bed to share, something else to focus on for a few hours, she would do anything for him to find it in her home. In her arms.

His voice reverberates in his chest when he speaks, thrumming against her cheek and the press of her breasts against his back. She lets the words sink in like the heat of the water, smearing idle little kisses along the plane of his back.

The fact that he's calling her ma'am while they share a bath after having had sex is just. So terribly endearing she could cry. These Americans and their oddly-placed manners. ]

And who are people like you? [ She's not sure if he means in light of soldiers or something greater. ] I appreciate that more than you could know. I'm only glad you've come around. Everyone deserves a place to feel at home. Get some rest and have peace of mind and know you're safe. The whole world can't be a battlefield.

Come on back here. [ It's the faintest tug, leaning back so he can lay against her once more. She's getting cold where she isn't submerged. ]

[At first, he isn't sure how to answer. People like him; there aren't many. There's so much that could mean and maybe that was just his way of talking about himself without having to say it. It's easier to shove himself into a category of unfortunate life situations.]

I don't know. [Is his honest answer in a murmur and he doesn't speak again until he's once again leaning back into Angela's warmth, knees sticking out of the bath.]

Don't you ever wanna move on with your life? Find someone to settle down with? I dunno - do shit for yourself. [She can't do any of that burdened with his bullshit.]

[ "People like him". When he doesn't know how to answer, she tries to imagine it herself. The words that come to mind for people like Frank Castle are those who have lost something very important to them and who had the courage to take it into their own hands and find out why. Who take ugly emotions and circumstances and forge them into a weapon to fight for good.

He could have very easily taken many different paths. Ones that would have led him into hurting innocent bystanders, or tangentially involved people. Frank still had a strict moral compass and he knew what he was doing. He stayed sane. That is one of the many reasons she adores him, and why she's allowed things to get to an intimate point between them. Why she's keeping her arms wrapped around him as he leans back and stroking over his chest, drawing palmfuls of hot water up to push over his shoulders and onto her own. ]

I don't think so. The only people I would have once considered that with have gone. [ Passed away, more like. ] It's difficult to lead the sort of life I have and try to make room for others in such a dedicated manner. I wouldn't want to have any lack of love or time to give someone I decide to share my life with, and I also don't want to give up what I do. Striking a balance between those things is...

Well, it is impossible. I would not be able to settle down and continue my research as well as my work at the hospital. There are sacrifices everyone must make at one point or another and I believe this is mine.

[He wants to call her out - bullshit - but who is he to know or judge? Maybe that truly is how she feels. Frank feels as though he should know for sure but Angela is so difficult to read sometimes between her sweetness and caring nature. She is more than that and he's well aware but there are some spaces between the lines he just can't figure out for himself... yet.]

As long as you're happy. [Is what he ends up with but not with the intention of winning affection or laughter. He means it.] Don't let go of the shit that makes you happy, makes you feel alive. If it's important you hold onto it, okay?

[Okay?]

[ No, it is entirely genuine. Angela is someone that throws her all into what she chooses to dedicate herself to, which only means that, when it comes to love, she wouldn't be able to spend fourteen hour days at the hospital or in her lab, and she'd have to make time for more than just a lunch date or some hour when she rolls into her house at midnight just long enough to shower and pull a shirt on before crawling into bed for a few hours and starting all over again.

No one deserves that sort of life, where you're carefully scheduled around someone's work instead of their heart. (This is what she says, and yet here she is indulging herself in Frank for hours at a time; perhaps it wouldn't be so impossible after all if she could find more men like him.) His words are harshly-delivered but genuine, and it makes her smile regardless. ]

I am happy, süässli. And I will. [ Her nose is nuzzling against his temple, into thick black hair as she gives him a little squeeze about the shoulders. Guess who she's holding onto and not letting go of. ] And what about you? What do you plan on doing with the rest of your life?

Edited 2016-09-10 12:17 (UTC)

[It's this kind of deep conversation he tends to avoid simply because of the shit it pulls up. He wants people like Angela to be happy; they are the ones he fights for now, the ones he tries to protect even through his violent methods. Getting close was never the goal.]

What I'm doing now. [It's said simply and he stays still, staring at the shifting water of the bath.] Until I can't do it anymore.

[ LOOK HE PROMPTED IT. He did get close, though, and now he has to deal with the fact that there's someone in this wide world looking out for him. Someone that cares for him despite his actions. Knowing him on a deeper level than a passerby on the streets, or someone he may share drinks with at a bar.

She knows what he does and partially why he does it. She knows where he's been. A decorated marine who should be retired with his dress whites pressed in someone's closet instead of hunkered down in a safehouse in the middle of the ghetto. ]

You'll just keep finding more and more criminals escaping the law, is that it?

[ She almost makes a quip about him kicking down doors at 90, but she knows the sombering reply he would give. "I won't make it to 90. Hell, 60 if I'm lucky." Maybe even with a "ma'am". No, she'll just avoid that altogether and continue to stroke down strong arms thick with muscle, enjoying his weight and his warmth against her. ]

Shall we switch? You're heavy.

[What she assumes of him is entirely true. There's no future for him other than this, he's already made peace with that. The day he killed the Blacksmith was the day he snuffed out the possibility of anything else.

Upon asking to move Frank snaps out of his thoughts and nods, sitting up.] Yeah, sounds good.

[Holding the sides of the tub, he gets up carefully, water sloshing about and sliding off his body as he stands. It's easier to get out and then back in again, so he waits for her to move so he can do just that and tuck up behind her.]

[ Let him hold onto her for a change; they shift around easily and she's quick to nestle back up to him, legs bent and leaning to one side so she can remain as submerged as possible while sitting back against him, drawing his arms about her middle.

Her head tips back against his chest with a sigh and she tips her face up to him, brow against his neck. As much as she'd enjoyed him in her arms and getting the chance to rub him down, she loves being in his arms. ]

[He is perfectly happy to do just that. She fits easily against him and he enjoys knowing Angela is comfortable enough to relax, drawing her closer against his chest before resting his arms loose at her middle. She's warm despite the gradually cooling water and he unabashedly enjoys the moment for as long as he can.]

I'm staying the night if it wasn't obvious. [He says with full amusement, pressing lips to her temple.] I mean, unless you wanna kick me out in the cold.

[ Would that they could fall asleep right here in the water; once she's settled back against him and he's wrapped his arms about her she yawns, boneless. It makes it easy to conform to his body and seal out the space between them, breathing easy. She closes her eyes and simply focuses on the rise and fall of his chest, the press of muscle against her stomach and his thighs framing her hips.

No matter what he may have done in life he had a way about him that could make you feel safe. She fears nothing here. The curl of her lips precedes words, nuzzling back against his mouth when he kisses her temple. ]

Kick you out? But then who would carry me back to bed and keep me warm? Mr. Castle, I would never.

Damn. And here I thought you'd carry me.

[When did it get so easy to be like this? To sit in a bath after sex and deep conversation and feel light? To joke around and hold her with ease? Frank does his very hardest not to dwell too long too often on such thoughts. They will only end in dark places.

Instead, he's content to stay like this until the water goes cold and they eventually leave for a warmer bed and company for the rest of the evening. Frank will likely slip out before she even wakes, as usual, only to once again be reminded of the fact that she never fucking complains about it. She never complains about any part of him except that which ends up with bullet wounds and broken bones.]

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Intimate Bathing

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