Fic: A Nick In Something Smooth

[silentdescant]

title: A Nick In Something Smooth

pairing: Billy/Dom

rating: R

words: 1400+

summary: Dom needs a shave; Billy helps with that

warning: slight mentions of blood and cutting, D/s themes

 

 

 

Dom strokes the stubble on his chin gently, his fingers barely grazing the prickly hairs, as he stares determinedly into the mirror. He doesn’t particularly want to shave, but this is getting ridiculous, and he feels like a slob for letting it go this long. Sighing, he reaches for the shaving cream and shakes the bottle. The lower half of his face is covered in white foam when Billy pokes his head into the bathroom to see what he’s up to.

 

“About time,” Billy teases, stepping in fully, though his hand remains on the door.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Dom replies with a shrug and a little, dismissive wave of his left hand. His right hand reaches blindly for the razor and he tilts his face up in preparation for the first stroke on the underside of his chin.

 

Before the blade touches his skin, however, Billy’s fingertips graze his wrist, stopping him.

 

“Wait,” he whispers. “I’ll do it.”

 

Dom smiles lopsidedly and hands over his razor, a disposable plastic one. Billy takes it and tosses it onto the counter.

 

“I’ll do better than that,” he explains with a smirk.

 

Billy nudges Dom backwards until his back is flush with the wall opposite the mirror, then rummages around in the drawer for his own shaving kit. Dom’s eyes widen.

 

“That thing’s scary, Boyd,” he mutters when Billy pulls out his straight razor.

 

Billy shushes him. “Sit down on the toilet, back to me.”

 

Dom puts the lid down and swings his leg over, leaning back against Billy when he steps up behind him. Billy drops his hands to Dom’s shoulders and massages them a bit.

 

“Take off your shirt.”

 

“I have stuff all over my face.”

 

“You can wash the shirt.”

 

Without further complaint, Dom pulls the t-shirt over his head and tosses it out into the hallway. Billy moves up close behind him again and his hands resume their gentle motions on Dom’s shoulders. After a moment, Dom relaxes and tilts his head back against Billy’s chest, his eyes closed.

 

Billy takes the opportunity to reapply the shaving cream with his own brush, swirling it over Dom’s chin and throat and drawing a soft smile from his foam-covered lips.

 

“Hold still,” Billy whispers, setting down the brush and reaching for the blade again. “Stay still, Dommeh.”

 

Dom makes a quiet noise of acquiescence and keeps his eyes closed, even as Billy pulls his skin taut and draws the razor slowly down his cheek. Billy rinses off the blade quickly and repeats the stroke, carefully avoiding Dom’s lower lip, which is pushed out a bit as Dom juts out his chin.

 

Billy tilts Dom’s head to the side and drags the razor over his skin, making both cheeks match. Then he nudges Dom into a further extended position; Dom draws in a breath, his chest expanding and rising visibly, and exposes his white-painted throat.

 

Neither of them has spoken in the past few minutes, and Billy finds himself listening for Dom’s little sighs of pleasure or discomfort. He’s a hedonist, and Billy should’ve guessed he’d relish the feel of the blade as it scrapes away the cream.

 

Billy’s own mouth is suddenly dry as he positions the razor against Dom’s vulnerable throat. Dom breathes in as Billy slides it up to his chin, and Billy gasps. Dom’s eyelids flutter open at the sound.

 

“Hold still,” Billy repeats, his voice now unsteady. Dom blinks twice, smiling, and closes his eyes again. “Still,” Billy breathes again, more to himself than to Dom.

 

Dom relaxes even more, if that’s possible, with his head still against Billy’s chest and his back arched impressively. His hands hang limply at his sides, utterly still, not even twitching. Billy inhales and slides the razor up Dom’s throat again, glad when Dom doesn’t react. Billy nudges him to turn his head the other direction, and Dom moves obediently, settling into complete stillness once more. But when Billy sets the blade to his skin, Dom reaches one hand back to curl around Billy’s thigh, startling him.

 

Billy moves his hands quickly away from Dom’s neck, gasping in surprise.

 

“Don’t,” he whispers sternly. “Dom, I mean it.”

 

Dom nods, though his lips are twisted into a smirk. He remains still while Billy quickly finishes up his neck and the few strokes around his lips.

 

Billy then turns his attention to the line of Dom’s jaw, which he’s left foamy and unfinished. It’s the hardest part, this curve, especially on Dom, whose jaw is so angular and sharp anyway. He brushes his fingers over Dom’s throat, feeling Dom’s pulse jumping just beneath the skin. It’s a little fast. Billy takes his hand away.

 

“Hold still,” Billy says again, more firmly than before.

 

Dom opens his eyes as Billy begins the first stroke. Billy notices, but tries to ignore him, even as Dom stares at him with an intensity Billy hasn’t seen in Dom’s eyes outside the bedroom. Billy leans the opposite direction to do the other side of Dom’s face. This time, as he’s finishing the stroke, Dom closes his eyes again and murmurs Billy’s name. The blade catches, digs in a bit. Billy pulls his hand away.

 

There’s a little spot of blood on Dom’s chin.

 

Billy grabs a tissue and dabs at it, ignoring Dom’s amused smirk. He catches Billy’s wrist and holds it up to look at the stained tissue. The cut wells with blood again.

 

In a single, smooth motion, Dom stands up and turns to face Billy, lifting his leg over the closed seat of the toilet. They’re standing very close together, and Billy’s gaze is drawn to the blood on Dom’s chin.

 

He did that.

 

Dom kisses him, his lips firm and demanding against Billy’s, and he hasn’t let go of Billy’s wrist. Billy lets himself drift forwards to lean against Dom’s chest.

 

“Billy…” Dom breathes, pulling away to kiss the corner of Billy’s mouth. “Cut me.”

 

Billy leans away again and stares hard and Dom, whose eyes are clouded with lust.

 

“No,” he replies simply. “I won’t.”

 

“Please,” Dom tries again, this time with a gentle smile. “I want you to.”

 

“No, Dom, I won’t.” Billy shakes his head and twists out of Dom’s grasp. Dom stares back at him for a few seconds, then reaches for the razor himself. “And you won’t either,” Billy hisses, instinctively catching Dom’s wrist in a quick movement.

 

“I’ll do what I like,” Dom sneers. His eyes flicker with challenge, but Billy’s fingers are tight and unrelenting around his wrist, and his gaze his hard. Neither of them blink, and after several long moments, Billy cracks a smile.

 

“You’ll do what I like,” he counters, twisting Dom’s wrist until his grasp on the razor weakens.

 

Billy takes it easily from Dom’s limp fingers with his free hand. He holds it up to Dom’s jaw, letting the light reflect off the blade into Dom’s eyes. Dom’s expression is tight with pain, and he closes his eyes against the glare from the metal.

 

While Dom is under his control like this, Billy scrapes the blade over his jaw, taking away the last stripe of shaving cream. When he’s finished, and the razor rinsed off again, he sets the sharp corner of it against Dom’s lower lip.

 

Dom’s eyes fly open. He glances down to the blade, disappearing from view where it touches his lip. He can feel the cold flat of the blade, and a pinprick of heat where the corner pushes in a bit, but he knows Billy hasn’t pushed hard enough to actually cut him.

 

He nods without moving his head, and Billy lowers the blade. They both wait for a moment, completely silent, then Billy reaches around Dom for the bottle of aftershave. He dribbles a bit onto his hands and rubs them together, and Dom stays perfectly still while Billy smoothes it into his cheeks and neck. It’s an almost imperceptible difference when Billy’s hands go from rubbing in the aftershave to simply stroking and massaging Dom’s newly-smooth skin, and Dom’s eyes close again in pleasure.

 

“Please,” he breathes, even that murmured sound seeming loud in the silent bathroom. “Please, Billy…”

 

Billy answers by leaning forward and capturing Dom’s lips again, this time taking control of the kiss and pushing into Dom’s space, forcing him to lean backwards and grab at Billy’s shoulders to stay upright. Billy’s hand curls up around Dom’s back and splays over his shoulderblade, holding him steady.

 

They break apart and Billy’s lips drift to the side, leaving a trail of light kisses from his mouth to the corner of his jaw. Dom moans softly when Billy whispers in his ear, his voice smooth and comforting, at odds with his words.

 

“I won’t cut you, Dom. But I will hurt you, if you ask me to.”

 

 

fin.