To Really Feel You

Rating: PG-13
Summary: Aeryn doesn't like John's beard so she does something about it.
Takes place on Moya, anytime after Peacekeeper Wars

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Aeryn winces when their lips meet and she’s stabbed yet again by John’s out-of-control facial hair.

“John, it’s time for you to shave.”

He runs his hand over his beard and feigns shock. “What, you don’t like the beard?”

“At least trim it. Your mustache stabs my upper lip every time you kiss me.”

He smiles and mischievously leans down from where he’s propped above her, running the side of his face over her cheek. “Come on, baby, I thought you liked this.”

She lets out a deep chuckle and gently pushes at him. “Let me shave it for you.”

Surprised by the offer, he shifts off to the side of her. “Okay.”

She tosses the silky gold covers off them and stands up, sliding into a pair of shorts. “Come on, then,” she says, gesturing for him to follow her.

He admires her fit body, dressed in only shorts and a tank top, as she walks away, disappearing into the bathroom.

Standing up, he stretches, pulls on a shirt, and shuffles into their bathroom.

He observes that she’d collected all the required materials and is perched on the counter next to the sink, which is filling with warm water.

“Come here,” she gestures between her legs.

He steps forward silently and rests his hands on her hips. She wraps one leg around the back of one of his thighs as she leans over his shoulder, reaching for something on the shelf behind him. “Forgot the shaving paste.”

When she straightens up again their eyes meet and linger for a moment before she removes the lid and begins smearing the brown mud-like goop on his face. They could make any moment intimate with just a look at each other, he muses silently.

His eyes remain on hers and he watches how her eyebrows furrow in concentration while she makes sure the shaving paste is spread evenly on his skin.

“Okay,” she says under her breath, rinsing the excess mud-like substance from her hands in the sink, and takes the straight razor in her hand. He doesn’t know if she’d shaved another man’s face before, and he doesn’t want her to think he’s doubting her skill by asking her, so he puts his full trust in her and lets her take a razor to his face.

She’s careful and precise, paying attention to the contours of his face, never accidentally nicking his skin. He’s surprised at just how intimate this feels. He’d liked the idea when she’d first suggested it, and even though she’s the one who’d initially wanted the beard gone, it still feels like she’s taking care of him by doing this for him.

When she finishes, she rinses the razor off in the sink and runs a cloth under the faucet, squeezing out the excess water. As she sits up straight again, he runs his hands up and down her sides once and smiles when her eyes meet his. She smiles back and then uses the wet cloth to gently but thoroughly clean off the excess paste from his face.

When she’s through, she tosses the cloth in the sink without looking and then runs her hands down his smooth cheeks and chin, briefly brushing her thumb over his bottom lip as her fingers run past.

His stomach flips, and without another thought he leans in and kisses her. Hard at first, but then much more softly, caressing her lips with his own until she moves her lips to his chin, his neck, his jaw, placing soft kisses wherever her mouth lands. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed feeling her lips on his face. He tightens his hands around her hips where they’d still been resting and lifts her off the counter. Reaching for her hand, he pulls her through the door and toward their bed.

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Her weight is heavy on his chest where she had collapsed after their lovemaking. Leaning back a bit to look up at him, she gently runs her hand down the side of his face.

Smiling, he leans down and brushes his lips softly over her forehead.

“I’d missed that,” she says.

“What? We just had sex last night.”

“No,” she chuckles lightly. “I’m talking about feeling your lips on my skin.”

“Oh,” he says simply, his fingers lightly skimming her neck as he pushes a tendril of her hair over her shoulder.

She shudders slightly and he speaks again with his mouth against her forehead, his lips nudging against her skin, “It sounds like I’m never having a beard again.”

She smiles and snuggles back into his chest. “Got that right.”

END