Lightly pinching his fingers and thumb about my chin, Hayashi turned my head this way and that, snipping away until he was satisfied. Then, he retired the scissors and lathered my face in soap. The stroking sensation of the fluffy, foamy brush was a pleasant sensation. I couldn't recall another time in my adult life when I'd been handled with such care.
I hadn't given a moments thought to the blade as it neared my face. I trusted him, but not blindly; I'd witnessed his skills with a katana, amongst other weapons. My heart pounded for a different reason. I'd never let a man get this close to me before, not unless I was fighting. Of course, I wasn't attracted to every man I met, but unnecessary proximity wasn't worth the risk.
Hayashi's voice cut through my thoughts, scattering them like smoke.
"Relax your jaw."
And I tried... but he was so close I could practically feel his breath on my skin.
"I won't cut you."
I knew that, but relaxing felt impossible when I was nervous he'd hear my heart pounding.
"You have to relax, or I might."
Blowing out a breath, I dropped my shoulders and closed my eyes, hoping that would help. It didn't; I felt Hayashi move in closer. At my left side, his legs slightly straddled my knee. I didn't dare move because he'd begun sliding the blade down my cheekbone.
Instead of clenching my jaw, I tightened my stomach. Between each pass, he swished the blade into the water basin before continuing. It took him a few passes to completely remove my hair from each section of my face; my beard always grew dense and wiry. I must've swallowed hard when he lifted my chin to reach my neck.
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"Don't gulp." He scolded passively, stoking his finger over my adams apple.
After he'd finished shaving my neck, he persuaded me to look at him directly and instructed me to stretch my lip so that he could clear my moustache. Every so often, he'd stroke his fingertip against a specific spot of my face, and although I knew he was just checking that he'd cut close enough, the intimacy of it had me tensing every muscle in my body.
"There." He nodded in appraisal as he turned my face this way and that one last time. "You can relax now..."
I sighed in relief, slumping my body, and watched him begin tidying up.
"I don't think a shave is meant to be such a workout. You flexed every muscle."
My hands flew up to my face as I grumbled; I'd hoped he wouldn't notice my anguish. My embarrassment was distracted by the pleasant surprise that my skin felt so smooth. "Wow, that feels great." I smiled up at him just as he was about to leave. "Uh, thanks for that, Hayashi."
"You are welcome." He bowed his head, ducked under the linen, and left.
For a minute or two, I sat listening to him wash out the basin in the kitchen. I anticipated hearing the corrugated steel doors sliding closed on their rails when he left. I'd just shimmed myself back into bed when I heard steel creak. But it was closer. It'd come from the stairs. Before I could react, Hayashi ducked back under the linen.
"Forget something?"
"Yes,"
My eyes never left him as he walked toward me, pulling the tie from his hair so that his silken black mane unfurled onto his shoulders. The canvas bag met the floor next to my bedding pile when he joined me on it. Hyperaware of how he leaned his body toward me, I leant back away from him warily, propped up on my hands. I didn't notice what he was doing with his hands. Not until his damp fingers met my cheek did I spot the tube of face cream abandoned on the sheets.
Slowly, his thumb stroked over my cupid's bow, harrowing close to my lips. I flinched, commanding him to, "Wait! I can do tha-" and grabbed his wrist. Unexpectedly, I'd ungrounded myself. With his wrist captured in my hand, I unwittingly brought him down with me, and we tumbled back against my bed together. My wide, frightened eyes met his. I could feel every inch of his torso pressed against mine.
Hayashi held his hands up in surrender, saying, "Don't panic; I've finished." That was all he said. Calmly, he removed his weight from me, collected his things, and left again.
Alone, I flopped back into my sheets, sweating, panting, heart pounding, and dizzy. Gingerly, I placed my hand over my groin, and sure enough, I was as riled up as I'd feared.
"Fuck."