Three Men In A Tub


...and one Elf.

February 2022
Reykjavik, Iceland

After spending Christmas in San Juan, Sören and his partners had returned to the house in Blackheath to tie up some final loose ends before their move. Nicholas had been planning on retiring to Sören's home country of Iceland when he turned seventy-five - even though it didn't really matter now that he had become immortal almost four years ago, but he still had to play the part and not give that away.  However, the last two years had been enough of a shitshow that Nicholas decided not to wait, and retired a year earlier than anticipated.

Lawrence hadn't just been watching their cats while they were on vacation, but it was a transitional period for Lawrence and his wife Diana to get used to the big house, which Anthony was giving them. Sören knew it was hard for Anthony to leave behind the garden with most of his father's ashes, but Anthony pointed out they would have to leave anyway when they started to look way too young for their age, so "we might as well get it over and done now, like a shot in the arm."

Now Anthony was out of the legal profession for good and at forty-two he was starting his life over, pursuing a doctorate degree in psychology at the University of Iceland, which would take some years, and the thirty-seven-year-old Sören was back working at the hospital in Reykjavik... and Sören, Anthony, Nicholas and Maglor were living in a cute navy blue ranch-style saltbox house with a small backyard and plans for a sculpture garden. The house was a bit of a fixer-upper, but they had agreed to that both to save costs on moving, and so they could make the new place more their own.

One of the things they'd needed to do was replace the bathtubs, both functionally and to make them somewhat larger. There was only so large they could be without having to tear down the bathrooms entirely and build an extension or knock down part of other rooms and build new walls.

Now they'd been in the new house for roughly a month and the bathrooms were done. And just in time, because Sören felt like he was going to have a meltdown from the bathrooms being in a state of chaos, one more stressor he didn't need. The COVID pandemic had been slowing down but omicron was making new cases, and Sören was getting more and more burned out after two years of this, first in the UK, now here.

They had been taking precautions - it was the novel coronavirus, so immortal or not, they didn't want to take chances - and after full vaccination they masked up in public and avoided large crowds when possible, and instead of the four of them doing things together it was frequently two-and-two, which they did anyway to make their poly quad more equal, everyone getting one-on-one time with everyone.

Valentine's Day was Sören and Nicholas's anniversary, so Anthony and Maglor were on a date both to do something nice as a dyad within the quad but also to give them some privacy. Sören had just wanted a quiet evening at home, both to practice social distancing and also because he didn't want to be overstimulated with crowds and noise and having to do things. For just one night, he wanted to simply be.

Nicholas not only understood, but went all out for the occasion, making a candlelit dinner of lamb chops with roasted herbed potatoes and asparagus, with homemade strawberry shortcake for dessert. Afterwards they cuddled on the couch for awhile, watching the fire burn in the hearth, and Nicholas began to rub Sören's back. Sören melted into Nicholas's touch with a happy sigh.

"Oh, that's wonderful, elskan."

Nicholas smiled. He got up, gestured for Sören to wait, and went down the hall. Sören heard the sound of running water, and a few minutes later, Nicholas came back and gestured for Sören to follow.

The tub was filling with lavender-scented bubbles, and there were tealights going around the bathroom. Sören grinned and immediately began taking his clothes off, flinging them haphazardly in his eagerness to get in the tub and relax. Nicholas tutted and picked the clothing off the floor, folding it neatly in a pile - Sören tossed his boxer-briefs at Nicholas, who chuckled and rolled his eyes. Sören gave a sassy butt wiggle and Nicholas slapped Sören's ass. "Brat," Nicholas said.

"You love it."

Nicholas swatted Sören's other ass cheek, who shook his ass again.

Nicholas climbed into the tub, held out his hand for Sören, and once they were both in, they sat down. While the tub was significantly bigger than the original version the house came with, Sören was six feet tall and Nicholas was six-foot-four, so their long legs were a tight squeeze.

Nonetheless, it was not terribly uncomfortable. The heat, the bubbles and the soothing lavender scent made up for whatever awkwardness there was of their limited room - and with Sören's feet at Nicholas's shoulders, Nicholas helped relax Sören further by rubbing his feet.

"Oh goddddddddddddd." Sören sighed deeply, involuntarily flexing his fingers and toes like a contented cat. "Oh fuck, that's good."

"As you know, I like taking care of you, sweetheart." Nicholas smiled, with such warmth in his dark brown eyes that it went right to Sören's heart, making him tear up a little.

"Mmmmm, when we get out of this tub, I'mma take care of you." Sören gave Nicholas a pointed look.

Nicholas chuckled. "You can start by removing 'I'mma' from your vocabulary."

Sören was delighted that after all these years Nicholas was still very much himself, and laughed so hard he snorted. The exasperated look Nicholas gave him made Sören laugh harder, snorting more. Nicholas tried to maintain composure but he couldn't help laughing too, shaking, turning red, and then he let out a snort of his own.

The two were in hysterics, snorting harder and louder than a den of pigs, and then Maglor and Anthony got in earlier than expected and Sören could hear them in the living room:

"What the -"
"Oh fuck, is someone choking?"

Maglor rushed into the bathroom, Anthony's cane clacking down the hall as he limped along as fast as he could, and while Sören felt slightly guilty for alarming them, the looks of concern on their faces were comical and Sören and Nicholas continued laughing so hard they snorted. Maglor and Anthony facepalmed in unison.

"Well, I'm glad you're enjoying yourselves," Anthony said, free hand on hip.

"What happened? Why are you guys home already?" Sören asked - not that he was unhappy to see them, of course.

"One of the kitchen staff had a heart attack and the whole restaurant had to be shut down because of the paramedics," Anthony said.

"Oh god." Sören scowled. Not only did he feel bad for whoever it was having a heart attack, but he knew the hospital was already tightly pressed for staff. "Work's gonna be real fun tomorrow."

"Shit, yeah." Anthony frowned sympathetically.

Sören sighed. "I'mma manage, I guess."

Nicholas glared, Sören stuck out his tongue, and then they started laughing and snorting again.

"You two are ridiculous," Maglor said with a smile.

Sören's response was to splash him.

Maglor's response was to get undressed and climb in the tub, making waves. When he sat - or did something approximating sitting - it upset the suds even more. Sören splashed him again and Maglor splashed him back, madly.

"Help," Sören called out to Anthony.

"I..." Anthony gave the tub an incredulous look. "We can't all fit in there, can we?"

"Only one way to find out, innit?"

Anthony rolled his eyes, but leaned his cane against the wall, got undressed, and used the steel grab bars to get into the tub. Sören pulled him down.  Maglor was six-foot-nine and Anthony was six-foot-two; the tub was not designed for three tall men and one giant Noldo.  They fit - like a can of sardines.

"My word, it's tight in here," Nicholas said.

"That's what he said," Sören and Anthony said in unison.

Nicholas splashed both of them.  It became an all-out war, Sören and Anthony against Maglor and Nicholas, splashing, laughing, hollering. Maglor got soap in his eyes and swore in Quenya.

Anthony couldn't resist ribbing Maglor a little. "When Tolkien said you spend your days along the water singing lamentations, this wasn't what he meant."

Maglor started tickling Anthony, and finished with a wet finger in Anthony's ear.

They managed to calm down and cuddle, until they had prune skin and the water was more tepid. Then Maglor had a new verse of woe.

"How are we going to get out?"

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