After Shave

The bottom half of his face was covered in a blanket of fluffy white cream. Well, it was going to happen sometime or another, this shaving business. It wasn't even like he had a full beard; just rough, slightly prickly skin, especially around the chin area.

Wetting the blade under the faucet, he scowled at the mirror. Leave it to Rukia and her 'sensitive' touch to notice. Leave it to her pickiness to complain about it. Women and their stupid feminine preferences.

He started at the top of his cheekbone, guiding the razor down in slow short strokes, tenderly plowing heaps of white foam down his cheek and along the curve of his maw. The last thing that Ichigo wanted was for her to boycott him, especially now that they were so far into their relationship.

Bang, bang, bang!

"Ichigo!"

The razor slid off course, streaking his cheek with a huge red laceration. "Damn it!" He dropped the razor in the sink. A trickle of white spume seeped into the cut, setting the left side of his cheek ablaze into a heaping torrent of fire.

There was a gush of red running down the side of face; it wasn't just a nick, it was a full blown, inch long slash. To think that a cut so small could sting so much!

Bang, bang, bang!

"Ichigo!"

"God damn woman," he muttered, wiping away the cream so it wouldn't get into the cut. "What, Rukia?"

There was a pause. "I need your help."

Ichigo pressed his hand against the cut, and swung the door open. He glared down at the little woman. "With what?"

Rukia held up a bottle of unopened soy sauce. "This," she said, shuffling her feet. "I just can't seem to get the plastic contraption off— are you bleeding?" She peered around him at the cluttered countertop, and then up at his foam stained and bleeding face. "What are you doing in there?"

"I was shaving, you idiot!"

"Oh." She glanced at the bottle of soy sauce, and Ichigo saw the gleam of a pertly smile reflected in her eyes. "Do you want me to heal it?"

"No."

Rukia took his hand anyways and led him to bath tub, despite his scowls and protests. "It'll only take a second," she said, pushing the curtain aside. "Sit."

"Rukia— "

"I said sit."

He sat on the edge, reluctantly though, and tried to explain that chicks were supposed to dig scars. Taking a step closer, Rukia smirked. "This one likes to prevent them." She wiped her small thumbs across the puffy red skin surrounding the cut and murmured the incantation.

There was a spark of cool, soothing light. Ichigo felt the broken skin stitch back together, and finished as quickly as it had begun. Rukia smeared the leftover streams of red and planted her lips against his cheek; she scrunched her nose up.

"You didn't shave there."

"I didn't get that far." Ichigo turned the other cheek, pulling her in a little closer. "But on the other side…"

She understood, pressing her lips against smooth, moist pores. Ichigo felt her smile against his cheek. She didn't have to say, "Much better," because she said with sweet rose petal lips while avoiding the rough patches and kissing only the smooth areas.

Okay, so maybe this shaving business wasn't such a bad deal. The soy was sauce was long forgotten, followed by the cut and razor. Ichigo reached over and twisted the hot water knob. Lifting Rukia up into a closer embrace, he yanked the shower curtain closed.

He was just dying to know how well Rukia shaved her legs.