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Bzz.Bzz.Bzz.
Benny’s hand slides out from under the covers to slap at the alarm clock, shutting off the noise it was making.
A mumble beside him. A much more welcome noise. “Do we really have to be up already?” Usnavi grumbles, his voice still rough from sleep, eyes still closed. A tired smile crosses Benny’s face; he asks the same question every Monday morning. The familiarity of it hasn't dimmed how cute he thinks it is, the same routine always causes a flutter in his chest.
It's always a reminder that Usnavi is here, in the bed they share. In the life they share. “‘Fraid so, ‘Navi,” he teases, to a disgruntled groan from beside him. “Up and at ‘em. Time to face the day, and whatnot.” Morning isn't Benny's favorite time of day either, but at least he does better than Usnavi.
He swings his legs off the side of the bed, grimacing a little when his bare feet touch the cold floor beneath him. Beginning to get dressed, he throws on his slacks, pulls his white undershirt over his head.
Turning back to look at Usnavi, he laughs, shaking his head fondly at his antics: Usnavi has his hands outstretched, open and closing in the universally recognized Come Here gesture, a pout on his face.
“Yes, darling?” He asks, despite knowing exactly what Usnavi wants. A lazy morning, one where he lets Benny do the work for him. It's rare, and Benny pretends not to like it, but the intimacy of those mornings always warms his heart, puts a soft smile on his face.
Rounding the bed, he drops a kiss to the top of his forehead before lifting him out of the bed, carrying him easily to the bathroom. Benny presses a kiss to his lips after setting him down, sighing in mock put-out as he sees Usnavi beaming at him. “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, unable to fully wipe the grin from his face.
Grabbing the straight razor, the shaving cream, and the aftershave, Benny arranges what he needs on the edge of the counter, begins running a washcloth under the tap, hot water beginning to steam the mirror above it. “You know what to do,” he said, looking over at Usnavi, who opens his legs wide with a grin, leaning up to press a quick kiss of his own to Benny’s cheek.
Stepping between his legs, pressing their bodies close together, he takes the warm washcloth, running it over Usnavi's face, slowly, intently. With that done, he lathers up the shaving cream, just as methodically applying it, running his hands over his jaw, his touch light.
Benny will never admit to it, even though he's pretty sure Usnavi knows, but these are some of his favorite moments between them. The trust, the closeness, the intimacy between them as Usnavi tilts his head back, ready to be shaved.
With steady hands, Benny leans in close, running the straight edge down, the first pass over his face smooth and sure. Usnavi's eyes are closed, his trust in him complete and he smiles wide, the blade coming down again and again until the stubble is gone, his husband looking like himself again. “You're all set,” he whispers, placing a lingering kiss over the hollow of his throat before moving up his neck, leaving a quick peck on his lips. “Now get lost, ‘Navi, you're hogging the counter space.”