[ He mulls over those words, considers them. He knows there are people in her past she considers to have been important. That would be ridiculous to assume otherwise; he has those within his own that he deems similarly. Tony just doesn't usually get names out of her. Benjamin. It's filed away with a small note and put in a file for later, in case Benjamin ever comes up again. It's a lost hope, probably, but even still.
He takes a deep breath but tries to hide it, just as he hides the swallow - that's not nerves, he does that when he's shaving too - settles more firmly between her legs, holds onto them a little tighter, holds the razor out to her, and then waits for her to position his face as she's going to. ] Totally ready.
[ It was a lot harder to even consider talking about her past when everything was still raw and fresh, back at the beginning, but it's easier now. That her present is going really terribly well dulls the emotions associated with past memories much more than she thought it would. They're still not pleasant, but it's easier now.
She smiles at him as she takes the razor, runs one thumb lightly along the edge to determine how sharp it is and then tilts his chin a little downwards, considers for a long moment so that she'll get the curves of his beard right. ] Okay then, good. [ And she starts, tilting her head a little and biting her lip in concentration as she tries to be very careful about the pressure and shape of her stroke. ]
[ He's unaware of all that, but he'd be sort of pleased that she feels safe enough to share things with him now, casually as she just did.
He lets her position his head as she wants to, stays where he is when she lets go of him to get started on her work, and he's calm and quiet and still as she starts to run the razor over the skin of his cheek. It's between strokes, when the razor must be wiped on a towel - which he's conveniently tossed over his bare shoulder sometime during the lathering - that he pipes back up again. ] Very steady hands.
[ Sometime maybe she'll let him know out loud, instead of just by answering when things come up, casually dropping things in conversation that she would never have let slide before.
There's a quirk to her smile at that and she glances up at him, lets the razor rest for a moment as she glances up at him before lifting it again. ] I've always had excellent aim. [ That takes steady hands. And he's staying much stiller and calmer than targets tend to, which makes this a lot easier. ] Thank you.
[ He will probably not know what to do with that day.
He's quiet again until she's pausing to wipe the edge of the razor. ] Did you really want to do this or was it just an opportunity that looked like fun? [ Not accusingly, he's honestly just curious. He had a - well, there was a girl once, the next day, she'd wanted to hang out in the bathroom while they both got ready. She'd watched him shave and they'd had a shower and it was a little different than this, clearly, but. ]
I wanted to. [ That part of the answer is immediate, without pause or hesitation. It's the why part that takes a little bit of thinking to phrase right, because it sounds kind of corny and silly any way she can think to put it, and she takes advantage of concentrating on the next stroke to try to come up with a way that doesn't. ] I like helping you. [ And being close to him, and taking care of him, and it just feels right, and nice, and she likes sitting here with him. ]
[ Well, that answers that. He did want to ask the 'why' though, yes, and he's pleased that after a little while she goes ahead and... sort of gives it to him. Helping him is sort of vague, but he supposes the initial answer was similarly so. He'll accept both or either, and respond simply in turn. ] That's kind of a new thing. For me.
[ If he wants clarification he's going to have to ask for it, and even then she might not be that good at giving it to him because it just kind of is. She likes him, so she likes being able to do things for him. It's a whole thing. ] I wish it wasn't. [ A little soft, because personally she thinks anyone who doesn't think he's great is really dumb. ]
[ It's not as much a problem of not seeing him as great as it is rather the precise opposite: seeing him as great, and therefore not requiring assistance. He just shrugs a little, tries to tilt his head to keep the skin taut, help her out a bit. ] It's fine.
[ She thinks they should have taken the trouble of getting to know him a little better. Or maybe not, she's okay with them leaving him to her too, she just wishes that he'd had people a little closer when he was younger. It seems like a thing that would have been good. ] Sure. [ Light and easy despite her surprisingly strong feelings on the matter, and she keeps moving, onto the precision strokes that ensure his beard is just right. ] You're good at things.
[ He appreciates her allowing him to skirt the issue. It's the morning - theoretically, anyway. It is for them. - and he's got a meeting to be at in slightly less than an hour now and he really doesn't want to get into anything too heavy at the moment. At least, nothing too heavy like that. And honestly, he isn't ever really in a mood to chat about things like that in the first place. ] I'm very good at things. I'm glad you noticed. [ Sort of mumbled, to not mess up her strokes here. ]
[ It's totally the morning, this counts as morning. If it doesn't count as morning she's been wrong about what morning is all her life, and she can't have that. She grins, doesn't answer for a moment because she wants her hand to definitely be absolutely steady for this. ] Kind of hard to miss, you know. [ Leaning in closer and biting her lip again in concentration as she carefully finishes up his face. ] What with all the many things you're good at. Head up? [ She nudges his chin up a little with one thumb, but it's a casual and easy to disregard gesture, letting him do the baring of his throat for himself. ]
[ That's a very smart attitude to have, re: mornings. I like that. He allows a short smile when she moves the blade away to nudge his chin up, tilts his head back without much hesitation, only a little bit of tightness in his throat. There's a surprisingly large amount of trust with her though, for someone who typically doesn't go in for that sort of thing. The hesitation was hardly even discernible. ] It's talent born of an absolute lack of faith in others and pure impatience, not anything like natural skill.
[ It's better to just appropriate definitions of things when necessary and change them to suit your own needs, right? She wouldn't really have been surprised if he'd hesitated more, trust or not, because throats and razors tend to be slightly sensitive when put together. But the lack of hesitation makes her smile, and she does the first stroke carefully but surely, doesn't talk again until she's wiping the blade off. ] Really? Because I think a lot of people would disagree with that assessment.
[ This is my argument with 'helping' and 'fun' and ---
He raises his eyebrows as the beginning of a playfully skeptical expression, but the short amount he lowered his face to start leveling it at her is quickly rectified as he remembers the blade, feels it first touch, the start to draw across his skin again, and he similarly doesn't move until she's wiping the blade off from that stroke. ] Oh? On what grounds?
[ i'm just saying sharing an argument with max isn't necessary a good thing.
She pauses at the tilt of his head, waits until it's back up to continue the stroke. There is absolutely no way she's risking hurting him here, seriously, she kind of likes him a lot and it would be a waste of a good nice moment here. ] On the grounds of you having ridiculous amounts of natural talent. [ Blade back on his skin as she gets the sides of his throat, and then she sets it down and picks up the towel to pat off any remaining lather. ] And being spectacular.
He appreciates that care for his well-being, particularly since his own is spotty at best. But he stays still for the final pieces there, keeps his head where it is when she puts down the razor for the towel instead. Talking into the towel though, while she's wiping his face off, that's totally okay. ] Oh, those grounds. I wasn't sure if you knew about those grounds.
Doesn't everyone know those grounds? [ She sets the towel down, looks over her handiwork with a critical gaze to try and determine that she's gotten the shave right and all of his beard done with no parts newly missing, and then nods her head decisively and leans in to snatch a quick kiss because he's right there and she feels like it. ] Those are very well known grounds, I think.
[ He quirks an eyebrow at her as she finishes up her inspection, finds that kiss altogether horribly too brief, but he supposes he does have things to do. What a pity. Doesn't mean he can't smooth his hands along the outside of her thighs for a moment before he takes a step away, starts to fix up his tie. ] Well, you never can be too certain. People have an astounding aptitude for obliviousness.
[ He does have things to do, and not all that long before he has to leave for him, but that doesn't mean she can't blink long and slow at that smoothing of his hands and then grin at him, a little amused. ] Really? Me? I'm going to have to work a little harder. I'd offer to help with your tie but I barely know how those work.
In which case I would ask that you please do not help with my tie as I don't want to be accidentally strangled. [ He finishes it up, and then steps out of the bathroom to locate his jacket. Pause. Back in the bathroom, just where he was. He gives her a kiss, a good one, but a relatively short one. ] Thanks.
[ Then back out again to find his jacket and put on his shoes and stuff. ]
[ Lifting her hands away in mock surrender. ] Okay, I won't touch the tie. You unstrangled is a scenario I like. [ But her hands come back when he returns, just enough to rest on his shoulders for a moment as she kisses him back for that brief span of time.
She looks kind of pleased with herself as he heads back out in search of his jacket, sitting on the counter with her hands folded in her lap. ] You're welcome. [ But a moment later she's sliding off, because he probably still needs to eat before he goes and if he does she might as well get food then too. Or get it anyways, however he winds up leaving the house. ]
i don't even have a refutation for that yeah they fucking are
[ Uhh, he's not eating breakfast rn, passing through the kitchen entirely not because he's not hungry or in that much of a hurry - he's putting on his jacket and then probably going to check something and get a little distracted and then be late anyway - but because he's simply not thinking about food right now. ] You have any plans today?
[ Well she's totally going to stop in the kitchen, because she likes breakfast - or whatever meal passes for breakfast when she wakes up this late - and she glances over at him and shakes her head. ] I think I'll probably spend some time on my car, but nothing other than that. Why?
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He takes a deep breath but tries to hide it, just as he hides the swallow - that's not nerves, he does that when he's shaving too - settles more firmly between her legs, holds onto them a little tighter, holds the razor out to her, and then waits for her to position his face as she's going to. ] Totally ready.
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She smiles at him as she takes the razor, runs one thumb lightly along the edge to determine how sharp it is and then tilts his chin a little downwards, considers for a long moment so that she'll get the curves of his beard right. ] Okay then, good. [ And she starts, tilting her head a little and biting her lip in concentration as she tries to be very careful about the pressure and shape of her stroke. ]
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He lets her position his head as she wants to, stays where he is when she lets go of him to get started on her work, and he's calm and quiet and still as she starts to run the razor over the skin of his cheek. It's between strokes, when the razor must be wiped on a towel - which he's conveniently tossed over his bare shoulder sometime during the lathering - that he pipes back up again. ] Very steady hands.
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There's a quirk to her smile at that and she glances up at him, lets the razor rest for a moment as she glances up at him before lifting it again. ] I've always had excellent aim. [ That takes steady hands. And he's staying much stiller and calmer than targets tend to, which makes this a lot easier. ] Thank you.
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He's quiet again until she's pausing to wipe the edge of the razor. ] Did you really want to do this or was it just an opportunity that looked like fun? [ Not accusingly, he's honestly just curious. He had a - well, there was a girl once, the next day, she'd wanted to hang out in the bathroom while they both got ready. She'd watched him shave and they'd had a shower and it was a little different than this, clearly, but. ]
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He raises his eyebrows as the beginning of a playfully skeptical expression, but the short amount he lowered his face to start leveling it at her is quickly rectified as he remembers the blade, feels it first touch, the start to draw across his skin again, and he similarly doesn't move until she's wiping the blade off from that stroke. ] Oh? On what grounds?
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She pauses at the tilt of his head, waits until it's back up to continue the stroke. There is absolutely no way she's risking hurting him here, seriously, she kind of likes him a lot and it would be a waste of a good nice moment here. ] On the grounds of you having ridiculous amounts of natural talent. [ Blade back on his skin as she gets the sides of his throat, and then she sets it down and picks up the towel to pat off any remaining lather. ] And being spectacular.
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He appreciates that care for his well-being, particularly since his own is spotty at best. But he stays still for the final pieces there, keeps his head where it is when she puts down the razor for the towel instead. Talking into the towel though, while she's wiping his face off, that's totally okay. ] Oh, those grounds. I wasn't sure if you knew about those grounds.
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[ Then back out again to find his jacket and put on his shoes and stuff. ]
domestic as fuck oh my god
She looks kind of pleased with herself as he heads back out in search of his jacket, sitting on the counter with her hands folded in her lap. ] You're welcome. [ But a moment later she's sliding off, because he probably still needs to eat before he goes and if he does she might as well get food then too. Or get it anyways, however he winds up leaving the house. ]
i don't even have a refutation for that yeah they fucking are
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