"Are you shy?" asked Sinbad, when Judal hesitated before the bath. Judal turned and glared at him, thin brows drawn together in a frown despite the beginnings of a flush, and then tossed his hair back with an irritated look.
"Should I have any reason to be?" he asked, and slid off the first garment, over his head, an easy, languid motion that made Sinbad's head spin just to have the pleasure of watching. "Your face says otherwise."
"I never said that," said Sinbad, and then sighed when Judal's fingers made their way down to undo the buttons of his pants, equally slow and full of meaning, and Sinbad managed a shaky sigh. "The water will get cold if you don't hurry."
"Oh," said Judal, sounding a bit sheepish. He began to work with more haste as he slid the garment off of his long, slender legs, but Sinbad found that the show was no less entertaining. Perhaps, in a way, it was more intriguing to watch, the way Judal carried himself when he thought no one was looking, quick and efficient but still with that lazy energy of his. It was a relaxed sort of beauty, as though he weren't really trying, the sort that many spent entire lives striving to attain. And here was Judal, unaware of the fact, and all the prettier for it.
When he was done, Sinbad kissed the top of his head, and Judal, seeming embarrassed, glared up at him. "Keep your kisses for when we're actually in the tub, stupid," grumbled Judal, and Sinbad chuckled softly in understanding.
"As you wish," said Sinbad, and he could feel Judal's eyes glued to his naked back when he stepped forward into the water. The clear surface was already laden with scarlet rose petals; they were Sinbad's doing, the same red of Judal's eyes, and he thought they made the whole thing more romantic (if the candlelight dinner hadn't been enough). Judal would never admit it, but he thought that they were too. "Your turn."
Judal was not typically a gentle individual, loud and rude, and it could be infuriating, but it was at times like these when he was shy rather than bold, soft rather than crass. He wasn't looking at Sinbad when his pale foot lowered into the water, for his cheeks nearly matched the roses in their scarlet hue, and when he finally sank to his knees and relaxed into the warmth, he could still barely lift his gaze.
"What's got you like this?" Sinbad teased, tilting up Judal's face to meet his gaze, illuminated only by the soft glow of the candles around them. "Have I done something wrong?"
"Of course not, idiot," Judal nearly spat, but there was a softness to it that allowed Sinbad to know how he truly meant it. "You've done everything perfectly."
"Then what's troubling you?" Sinbad asked again, gentler this time as he swept aside a lock of damp hair from Judal's carmine eyes. "You don't have to tell me, if you'd rather not."
Judal turned again, still red in the face, but this time he leaned back against Sinbad's chest when he sighed. It was warm and hard, comforting against his skin, and Judal was certain that he must've felt like ice against Sinbad's abdomen. But the man didn't move, and the look Sinbad gave Judal held only concern, and not the least bit of resentment. Judal sighed against him, snuggling into the comfort of Sinbad's body. "It's nothing like that. This whole day has just been so…sweet," he said, as if the word were foreign.
Sinbad couldn't help but laugh, if only out of surprise. "'Sweet'?" he asked, amusement sparkling in his eyes. "Am I not usually sweet with you?"
"That's not what I mean," said Judal, swatting him lightly in the chest, but he was smiling faintly now, eyes cast down. He felt Sinbad's arm encircle him at the waist, and Judal sighed contentedly into the warmth of the touch. "Valentine's Day has never been a very fond memory for me. I've never had something like this to hold on to."
"Is that what this is about?" asked Sinbad, and his features lost all their rigidity as he gazed down at Judal. He couldn't quite recall a time when he had ever felt such sincere fondness brewing within him.
"Well," Judal began, "no one has ever treated me as kindly as you do. You've gone out of your way to do all of this for me, all of these plans, all of these gifts…" Judal laughed softly to himself, shaking his head with a smile. "I've never felt like this before, Sinbad. I guess that I'm just embarrassed because no one has ever seen me this way before. This... vulnerable."
The confession had Sinbad taken aback, eyes gone wide. Judal was never the sort to open up about his feelings, never had been, he was a private person and Sinbad had grown to understand that; grown to love that, as he did everything about Judal. But this was different, and Judal chose that instant to look up at him. He was smiling this time, and the look in his scarlet eyes was impossibly tender.
When Sinbad was sure he could not be further shocked, Judal leaned closer and pressed a kiss to Sinbad's lips, gentle and soft. Sinbad was reminded then, of how Judal's lips tasted like peaches, of how his lips felt like the world's softest silk, of all the feeling Judal could put behind a single, simple gesture. Sinbad could only guess, in an effort to make sense of it all, that Judal reserved this sweetness for only the most special of occasions.
"Thank you," said Judal, as if the moment could not have grown any more surreal. "For everything."
Though his heart was still racing, Sinbad recovered quickly, and met Judal with a warm smile. "You are the one who I should be thanking," he said, breathless, and when he kissed him gently on the forehead, "happy Valentine's Day."
It seemed as though Judal would have a fond memory of Valentine's Day after all, as he had never looked quite so happy as he did with his head up against Sinbad's shoulder, together in the bath.