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TITLE: The Blood on the Bathroom Sink
ORIGINAL STORY: That Way Madness Lies by buffett
DISCLAIMER: Not true, and adapted from another author.
Billy shifted the razor awkwardly in his hand, cursing as the handle caught on his splint and the blade jerked across his skin.
The sink is splashed with his blood, bright red against the white porcelain and Billy runs the tap, trying to wash it away without wetting the splint currently encasing his right index finger. The right index finger that had been in complete working order until Dom had suggested surfing at Tairua, that is.
Billy sighs and tries shaving with his left hand. The blade scrapes slowly across the foam and skin and succeeds in only lifting a small flap of skin, which stings but doesn't bleed. "Fuck!" Billy yells and chucks in the razor into the sink with a snarl.
"Tsk! The mouth on you!"
Billy glares in the direction of the door and the man leaning against it and attempts to fuse the flap of skin back onto his chin with sheer force of will. "Sod off." He reaches for the razor again and this time manages to remove the flap of skin completely, the blood mingling with the shaving cream. "OW!"
Dom snickers and steps into the room, reaching for the antiseptic pencil and dabbing carefully at Billy's face. "You're making a right dog's breakfast with that thing, aren't you?"
Billy mutters as he tries to ignore the careful fingers on his chin and the feel of Dom's breath on his skin. "You're the one that wanted to go surfing at Tairua. Need I remind you that I had the use of all my fingers before that." He can't help following the remorseful sideways twist of Dom's mouth with his eyes and sighs. It's an almost constant refrain in his head now but he really needs to get his own place.
Dom eyes him critically. "Here, let me help. It'll save Makeup from having a heart attack when they try and hide the blood under pancake."
Billy blinks, "All right!" and then curses himself for answering so quickly, but thankfully Dom doesn't seem to notice. He's too busy shutting the toilet seat and shoving a towel in Billy's direction. "Sit and get rid of that lot."
Dom runs the hot tap and by the time Billy has removed all the old shaving cream, the sink is steaming and Dom is running a facecloth under the water and wringing it out. When he drapes it over Billy's face, the warmth is all he can feel, sinking into his cheeks and jaw. "Mmm. You're not going to slit my throat with a straight razor now, are you?" Dom grins at him over his shoulder and Billy has to close his eyes. It doesn't help; Dom's grin is floating behind his eyelids too.
The cloth cools and lifts and Billy opens his eyes again. Just in time to see Dom approach with a palm full of shaving cream. His fingers are gentle as he slowly lathers Billy's face in cream, carefully avoiding the sore spots. He's so close that Billy should be able to feel his breath but the shaving cream seems to insulate his skin. Dom is so close though, that Billy's eyes have nowhere to go, apart from him. Dom's eyes are hazed with concentration and the tip of his tongue is poking out. Billy swallows, shifting slightly against the cool plastic of the seat.
"Oi. It's not like I could be worse at this than you." Dom says, mistaking the shifting for discomfort and fear. Billy can feel his neck heat. Dom's just being a friend, helping a mate out; he doesn't mean anything by it. After all, his gaze is mostly on Elijah, who seems to spend his time watching Orlando and Billy often feels his stomach drop with a mixture of sympathy and dismay when he watches them. He wishes Dom luck with Elijah, really, but still. He can admit the dismay because there's more sympathy for a mate in there.
Dom's fingers slide across Billy's top lip, leaving a warm trail behind them. Dom pulls back for a moment and then starts shaving, occasionally resoaping and shaving when he hits a rough patch. The razor glides across his skin until it reaches the raw spots. Then Dom grasps Billy's chin in careful fingers and considers the best way to deal with them. This involves two little lines of concentration forming between his eyebrows and the return of the tip of his tongue, only a few inches away from Billy's face.
Dom's breath is chilly across Billy's half shaved face as he squeezes his eyes shut. The mental image of Dom's tongue won't fade.
They'd been at the pub and after a few to many drinks; he'd opened his mouth and proclaimed like some pompous Shakespearian ass that he didn't shag his mates because that way madness lies. Dom hadn't called him on it and Elijah had been too busy watching Orlando to understand. It had, Billy thought to himself, been an excellent rule. If only he'd implemented it before breaking it because now was too late and this was definitely a little like madness.
He really needed his own place soon, he thought as the razor slid slowly across his chin.
"Stop looking so shit-scared." Dom's voice makes him realise that he still has his eyes screwed shut and he must look ridiculous as a result. He opens them to find Dom right up close, a small frown on his face, "I'm being careful." he says. Billy swallows, his voice hoarse. "Yeah, but you're breathing on me!"
Dom rolls his eyes and pulls back slightly; Billy can feel relief and disappointment racing through him. "You poor bastard. Anyway, I'm almost done." Dom says, adjusting his grip on Billy's chin as the razor scrapes carefully around the raw spot. Dom's holding his breath too.
"There. Now do the chin thing." Dom says, leaning back and doing the international sign for throat shaving. Billy does so and watches as Dom disappears from his view. His hand is now warm against the angle of throat and jaw as the razor scritches across his throat, followed by the faint breeze of Dom's breath. Billy gives in and waits for each faint breath until Dom reappears in his view, looking pleased as he surveys Billy's chin. "There, that wasn't so bad now, was it?"
"Torture." Billy says, he knows Dom won't understand.
Dom eyes him fondly and presses a wet heatless kiss to Billy's lips. He steps back and grins down rudely. "What crawled up your arse this morning?"
Billy's internal refrain kicks off again. I really need to get my own -- oh, for fuck sakes.
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