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Love is a strong word, one Jisung doesn’t use often. He likes many things, but only a few make his heart flutter and feel at ease.
He loves music. His bandmates. And of course, stays.
Recently, he also loves shaving. It’s a moment of peace, where he can relax and organize his thoughts while listening to the sound of the blade against his skin. At first, he had a few —many— cuts, but with the passage of time and practice, he got better.
And also, it’s funny to see his face covered in foam.
Jisung opens the tap, turning the handle to the left. While the water was warming up, he opened the top cabinet and took out his newly bought kit.
When they changed dorms, Jisung lost his old one between all the chaos and boxes. He didn’t have time to be sad though. The following morning he woke up to a wrapped kit set on the kitchen’s countertop, next to fresh pancakes. And of course, there was Minho.
“What—” he muttered, blinking in confusion. He linked eyes with Minho, who just pointed the gift with his head.
“Open it.”
He did so, tearing the pink and green wrapper.
“Oh my god,” he gasped, peeking at the image of a shaving brush in the box. “Minho!”
Minho smiled, one of those smiles where the corners of his eyes crinkled and two moons appeared. He kept tearing the paper, more eager than before. Two seconds later, he had his new kit in his hands.
He filled a bowl of warm water, soaking his razor and brush in it and he proceeded to wash his face, to open his pores. He had a pink hairband to prevent his hair from getting wet, and while Hyunjin made fun of it, Jisung kept using it (he never told Hyunjin he stole it from him and that reminded him so much of the old times that he couldn’t physically get rid of it).
The next step, the oil —to avoid breakouts. He put on his hand a few drops, gently massaging it into his skin. When it was ready, he took out the brush and taped it against the edge of the sink to take out the excess water, swirled it on the soap, and then, when there was enough foam, applied it to his face.
His stubble was somewhat short, but the cameras still picked it up.
He took his razor and in the same way he did with the brush, he tapped the excess of water on the sink. He was about to start when a know startled him.
The bathroom was open, so when he turned his head away from the reflection he saw Minho —now also his roommate in addition to his boyfriend— leaning on the door frame, arms crossed on his chest.
“That still looks dangerous,” he said, arching an eyebrow.
The first time Jisung shaved, he had three members looking at him in a circle, making sure he was not cutting himself on accident. It was a bit funny, now that he looked back at it.
“Are you going to watch over me while I shave?” he teased.
Minho giggled, but instead of leaving the bathroom, he sat on the bidet lid.
“Let’s see how you do it.”
Jisung couldn’t help but chuckle, a nice warmth spreading through his body. He shook his head and focused again on his reflection, tilting his head upward.
Swop. Swop.
He always started with the neck, it was the most sensitive part. He heard Minho’s breath hitching, and from the reflection, he saw him scrunching his eyebrows as if he were the one getting shaved.
Once he finished with the neck —that was the most time-consuming part— he cleaned the razon. He was about to start with the jaw when Minho tapped his shoulder.
“Hmh?” he looked at him, blinking in confusion.
“Can I—,” he cleared his throat, eyes looking everywhere but Jisung’s, “Can I try?”
He chuckled, “You don’t even have a beard, jagi.”
“No,” this time, he looked right at him and softly added, “I want to shave you.”
Jisung blinked, the razor in his head feeling colder than ever. He felt his heart racing, his cheeks burning. “Ye—” he coughed, “Yeah. You can try.”
Minho nodded and stood up. Jisung took one step to the side so that Minho could see his tools.
“It’s pretty easy,” he started explaining, taking the razor, “You have to do short movements, close to the skin and in the direction the hair grows.”
With every word, Minho nodded, making a small hm in agreement. Jisung had to contain a rebellious smile.
“Clean the razor every few swipes, you can use water or a towel,” another nod, “And that’s all.”
“Okay,” Minho said, his eyes taking every single object, “I think I can do it.”
“I’m sure you can, jagi.”
Jisung gave him a small smile and proceeded to sit, to make the angle easier for Minho. He gently places his hand on his jaw, turning it to the side. Jisung let him.
“Okay,” he whispered, slowly rubbing his thumb on his cheek, “Here I go.”
The first swap was a bit shorter and Jisung could feel the tension in his hands.
“You are doing great,” he assured.
Minho took a deep breath and went back in again. Slowly, but a bit more confident, he finished the left side.
“Like…that?” he asked, a bit uncertain.
Jisung stood up to look at the mirror and nodded, a big smile on his face. “Just like that jagi. It’s perfect.”
Mingo smiled back and cleaned the razor underwater. “Yeah?”
He nodded fervently and sat down again, “Wanna do the other side?”
“Can I?”
“Of course.”
With a big smile, Minho grabbed the razor again, “Let’s do it.”
It’s there, with Minho hunched over him, his hands moving in such a soft and delicate way; treating Jisung as a fragile artwork when he realizes it.
“Minho,” Jisung called. Minho was laser-focused on the spot he was shaving, so he just hummed to indicate he heard him, “I love you.”
He saw it in slow motion, how Minho’s eyes widened, his gaze shifting from the razor to look at his eyes. And he flinched. It was a small movement but—
“Ouch,” Jisung winced, turning his face away.
“Oh god,” Minho turned away, leaving the razor on the counter and scrambling to get some paper.
In the mirror, he saw a small nick and a tiny dot of blood, almost invisible. He couldn’t help but laugh.
“Don’t laugh! I almost killed you!”
Jisung laughed even harder, his hands on his stomach as he bent from his seat. Small tears started to pile on the corners of his eyes.
“Jisung!”
“So—sorry,” he managed to say. He lifted his head, but when he saw Minho’s concerned expression, he cackled again.
“Don’t— don’t laugh at me!” he babbled, his ears redder by the second. “I nicked you!”
“Min—,” he took a breath to steady his voice after all that laugh, “Minho. It’s nothing, I do it every time I shave.”
Minho pouted, crossing his arms. “Yeah, but…”
“Minho,” Jisung stood up and grabbed his face with both hands, “I love you.”
The pout quickly disappeared, transforming into a soft smile. His hands quickly found Jisung’s waist, and after a soft squeeze, he closed the distance.
“I love you too,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss on his lips.
They both tasted the leftover soap, but Jisung didn’t care. He only felt butterflies in his stomach, the soft warmth from Minhos hands on his waist.
So, this is love huh?