“Hold still.” I whispered as I lathered the shaving foam in my palm. Harry simply winked at me, sliding his hands up my bare thighs.
He’d woken me up this morning with scratchy kisses, and given he’s got a big interview with a new record label I suggested that he shave off the stubble on his jaw. After much complaining and whining, I finally agreed to do it for him. So now here I am, sat on the countertop next to the sink, Harry standing between my open thighs as I spread the white foam over the bottom half of his face.
“Don’t shave my eyesbrows.” He hummed.
“No? Thought you’d look handsome like that.” I giggled back, grabbing a towel and wiping my hands clean. “You sure you want me to shave you? I don’t wanna cut you.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, if you cut me I’ll give you a ten second head start.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Such a gentleman.”
“You know me.” He chuckled. I grabbed the razor and warily looked at him. “You won’t cut me baby, I trust you.” He sweetly said. I smiled and set to work.
I started with his neck, gliding the blade over the shorter hairs first before leaning over and swirling the razor in the sink. The water turned a creamy white with flecks of hair resting on the surface.
“So good, so far.” I murmured to myself as I lifted his chin to make sure I’d rid the hair on his neck completely. Once done I moved to his left cheek, starting at his sharp jaw line before dragging upwards to just under his side burn. His eyes never left my face, clearly amused by the amount of concentration I was putting in thus far.
After his cheeks were smooth and tipped his forehead back so the skin on his chin stretched out more. I was careful not to cut his plump bottom lip, dragging the blade extra slowly to ensure a smooth finish. I tapped his upper lip, which he tucked into his teeth and I shaved over the small moustache he had grown. I pulled back and let the razor sink into the water, making sure I hadn’t missed a spot.
“Handsome.” I smiled. I grabbed the towel and swiped off the excess foam speckled on his face. I grabbed the small bottle of moisturiser, squirting a dollop onto my hand before rubbing it into his skin.
He hummed at the contact. “Look good?” I nodded. “I’ll shave yours now.”
I gasped and gently tapped the skin of his cheek. “I resent that.”
“But not me?” His eyes sparkled with humour.
I shook my head. “Never you.” I pecked his lips, however soon Harry picked me up, promising to take me in the bed as I giggled in his ear.
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@smolfelton submitted the following prompt via reply: God I really wanna see how Draco would react the first time he sees Harry with a beard. Imagine they’re older and Draco’s in Diagon Alley or at the Ministry and he runs into Harry and at first he doesn’t recognize him, but the moment he does he’s just stunned (and maybe Draco is really into it) and there’s possibly a bit of flirting? idk beard!Harry is my fav Harry
This fic has a companion piece you can find ((here)).
Draco muttered angrily under his breath as he took the pumps apart. Chocolate sauces and caramel covered his arms almost up to the elbow. “I don’t know why no one else in this bloody cafe knows how to clean a sauce pump. It’s not like it’s fucking difficult.”
Ann, the barista Draco worked with most often, rounded the corner into dish area. The excitement on her face fell immediately into disgust. “What the hell is that smell?”
“Nasty fucking chocolate. I swear no one has cleaned these since I did last week,” Draco said, dropping another metal piece into a bin of soapy water.
“As foul as that is, I didn’t come back here to commiserate,” Ann said. “Wash your hands and come look at this guy who just came in.”
“Showing off your next target before you draw your number in the top of his latte?” Draco teased.
“Oh, come on, that was one time and he asked for my number first,” Ann said, pretending to be offended. “No, this one is more your speed. He looks just like your ex.”
Draco raised an eyebrow. If could go the rest of his life without being reminded of that train wreck he’d be just fine.
“Draco, you can’t deny he was gorgeous. I know he was boring and rude and horrible but damn. Please, before he leaves!” Ann ran back out to the drink line.
Draco sighed, but decided to go look. What harm could come from looking? He washed the mess from his hands and arms. As he headed out front, Ann nearly ran right into him.
“He’s staying! He’s the one sitting at the table in front of the pastry case. I swear, he looks so much like your ex! He’s got better hair though, and his eyes are a different color,” Ann said with a ridiculous grin on her face.
Draco grabbed a stack of plates to take to the pastry case. If he was going to go stare at gorgeous men, he might as well be subtle about it. He kept his eyes on the plates in his hands until he was close enough to get a good view without being too obvious. When Draco looked up, he froze. The man’s broad shoulders filled out an ancient looking leather jacket to perfection. His messy black hair was tied back. From this angle, Draco had a perfect view of the man’s rather impressive jawline. Until right this second, Draco didn’t realize he had a thing for beards. But this man? Ann was right, he was gorgeous. Draco could imagine the feel of that neatly trimmed beard against his fingertips, his cheeks, his lips.
Damn, pull yourself together. It’s not been that long. He managed to look back to his pretend task for a moment before looking back up at the man. His almost flawless brown skin was just begging to be touched. Almost flawless because of one very distinctive scar.
“Oh fuck,” Draco whispered. The weight of a years-long crush came back to him with full force. He put the plates down a bit too loudly and walked back to the dish area a bit too quickly.
“What’s the matter?” Ann asked.
“Not my type,” Draco said, putting all of this attention back to reassembling the clean pumps.
“You liar! Look at your face! He’s perfect! And that guy he’s with isn’t his boyfriend. I eavesdropped before I threw him at you. They’re on a first date, and not a very good one if I had to guess,” Ann said.
“I appreciate it, but no. Let me know when they leave,” Draco said.
“Oh, no you don’t. You’re going back up there,” Ann said.
“No, I’m not,” Draco said.
Ann smiled, a slow mischievous look, “I’m going on break. You’ll have to stay out front until I get back.”
“Don’t you dare,” Draco said, pointing a threatening finger at her.
Ann practically ripped her apron off running back to the front of the cafe, “Be back in thirty!” She shouted.
Draco ran after her, “Ann, you can’t…” His argument trailed off as he saw her sprint out the front door. Luckily, two more people walked in as Ann ran past. If Draco was lucky, he could stay busy until the blind date was over and draw as little attention to himself as possible. Of all the people to find him working in a muggle coffee shop, why the hell did it have to be Harry bloody Potter?
Twenty-nine minutes later, Draco started to relax. Maybe Potter didn’t recognize him. It had been three years since they’d seen each other. Maybe Potter wouldn’t see past the hair, the tattoos, the muggle clothes, the makeup. Ann would be back any second and he could go do dishes, clean the stock room, or really anything out of sight until Potter left.
Draco saw Ann through the front window. Thank Merlin, he thought.
“They told me you were a tough one but this so isn’t worth it,” Harry’s date said loudly. The man stomped out of the cafe nearly knocking Ann down on his way out the door.
Don’t look up. Mind your own business. Draco told himself. He pretended he didn’t see Potter walking up to the counter.
Draco’s heart was pounding when he walked through the door leaving Ann to deal with Potter. Several minutes later, Ann came back to Draco.
“He’s gone,” Ann said.
“Should I trust you?”
“Should I trust you?”
“What do you mean?” Draco asked.
“You could have just told me you knew him. You really do have a type, don’t you? So is he an ex, too?” Ann asked.
“I wish,” Draco admitted.
“Well, that might be a possibility.”
Draco looked at Ann, not daring to ask for clarification.
“I told him you were off at six,” she said.
“Why?!”
“He asked,” Ann said. “You could thank me for getting you a date.”
A date? In what world would he be lucky enough to finally land a date with Potter? Potter probably just wanted to ask him what the hell he was doing here. “It’s been years. I don’t know why I’m getting so worked up about this,” he said.
“Well, you really should thank me then.”
Draco said nothing. He did, however, spend the next three hours trying not to get his hopes up. Draco left the cafe a few minutes past six.
“Malfoy!”
Draco turned to see Potter walking up the street.
“There. Finally got your attention,” Potter said with a wide smile.
You’ve always had my attention. “I guess you have.”
Potter ran a nervous hand over his mouth drawing Draco’s attention back to his lips and that maddening beard. “Do you, maybe, want to get a drink? Or dinner?”
Say no, Draco. This is a horrible idea. It’s probably not even a date. Stop thinking with your cock. Draco warned himself. But he heard himself say, “Sure.”
“Great, let’s go,” Potter said as he took Draco by the hand.
Draco let himself be led to a little pub a couple blocks over and thought with a defeating wave of pessimism that, even if the rest of the night was a nightmare, this would be worth it.
