Ironwood eased himself into the cramped bathtub, letting out a series of small gasps and grimaces, his face twisting into a scowl.
"You're being really melodramatic," Weiss deadpanned, swirling the water in the small, closing space between them. "I made sure it wasn't too hot to start with, and then you had to go and take forever. The water's almost lukewarm now!" She pouted, and her tiny whirlpools in the water released swirls of fragrance, color, and glitter.
"I think we have vastly different opinions on 'lukewarm,' Weiss." Ironwood bit his lower lip, finally situated. He let out a heavy sigh as his back and shoulders were engulfed by the hot liquid, and as he pressed his shoulders against the rear of the tub, he was vaguely aware of his backwards motion pushing the water through him, and saturating his mechanics. "I'd forgotten just how uncomfortable hot water was."
Weiss raised a brow, a mix of concern and cynicism on her face. "What? Just how long has it been since you've bathed?"
"Wow," Ironwood teased, feigning indignance. "I'm just a filthy vagrant, you know? I slept around the academy campus so often that one day somebody just up and offered me the job of Headmaster and I ran with it. Bathing was never one of my habits so it's been literal years, Weiss. Have standards."
Weiss huffed and splashed him, and he laughed, his wide smile infectious.
"...No, it's actually been years. The short of it is, these parts aren't meant to be submerged." He shifted uncomfortably as the cloud of violet sparkles encroached. "I don't use more than a few inches of water to bathe, when I do use this tub. The main issue is that my gaskets will rot, and my lubricants won't hold up. Mmm, I've also been warned that my metal could get too heated in the water- and in turn, I could overheat and pass out. But that isn't something I'm worried about."
Weiss stared at him, her expression growing serious, soft, and concerned. "Why did you agree to this, then?" She moved to lay between his legs, lowering herself so that only her eyes peered up above the water. She placed a hand on his inner thigh; his human thigh.
"Because I am getting all of those things replaced tomorrow," Ironwood raised his hand to lackadaisically play with Weiss' silver strands as they gently wafted around them both, suspended in the sparkling moisture. "And all thanks to you, I'm going to be full of glitter."
"It's seaweed." Weiss breached water to say, before resubmerging herself.
Ironwood merely smiled, lazily glancing at her. The faint glow from his prosthetics pierced through the vividly cloudy water, illuminating Weiss' tiny, lithe form.
He tried not to notice himself against her perfection; tried not to notice his weeping scars that were burning in the hot, soapy water, and tried not to notice the harsh and jagged angles outlining his smooth, flat crotch plate.
"Whatever it is, it's nice."