(been watching a LOT of cast periscopes and felt inspired. sorry for being garbage?? also sorry for not knowing a damn thing about razors, this is one of those kinks i like a lot but never read. ALSO sorry that this just kinda meanders around and then stops, haven't written rpf in a looong time)
"Why do you even own a straight razor?" Matt asks, not turning around in the chair but instead following Taliesin's movements around the room in the mirror.
"Because I'm a weird goth with daddy issues," Taliesin replies, deadpan. "Why did you ask me to use it instead of shaving your own face, hm?"
It had started as a joke, really, that somehow grew into Marisha dragging him to Taliesin's house, and now the three of them are here in the bedroom and Matt doesn't have an answer that doesn't sound like a weird come-on.
Marisha is laying on the bed, feet kicking back and forth in the air like a teenage girl at a slumber party. "Ignore him, babe, he's just excited he gets to indulge his weird Sweeney Todd fetish."
Taliesin shoots her an unimpressed look and she smiles back at him angelically. "I can't promise I won't sing."
Matt chuckles and rubs at his scruffy cheek. "I'd ask to be Mrs. Lovett but I think I'm a little too fuzzy."
"I'll take care of that." Taliesin, lather in one hand and razor in the other, suddenly looks very serious. "Really, though- you gotta stay still for this. I like you too much to spill your blood all over my floor without a safeword."
"I'll be good," Matt says, and he means for it to come out teasing but it's- strangely earnest. He swallows dryly and juts out his chin. "Have at it."
He hasn't grown much of a beard over these last few weeks but it's thick enough that Taliesin has to lean in to get a close shave. It shouldn't be weird; Matt has never had that "no homo" fear with any of his male friends and he's been casually affectionate with Taliesin under way stranger circumstances than this. But there's this difference in the air he can't define, his mouth growing dry as his eyes shift from Taliesin's hands to Marisha watching intently from the bed.
His jaw twitches and Taliesin holds his chin gently but firmly. "Careful," he says, voice low.
Matt stays perfectly still while Taliesin drags the razor across his skin. His breath catches as the razor slides over his jugular but Taliesin's hands, as much as they might shake sometimes, are perfectly steady. Matt glances in the mirror and looks at Marisha, who he is surprised to see looks the same way he feels- her pupils are blown wide and dark as she follows every movement.
He's apparently completely absorbed because before he knows it, Taliesin wipes his face with a warm washcloth and says, "There you go, all smooth."
"Oh- thanks." His voice sounds distant even to his own ears and there is a weighty pause as he gazes up at his friend.
Taliesin looks over at Marisha, as though asking permission, and at her minute nod, he leans in close and presses a hesitant kiss to Matt's lips. His light stubble feels strange against Matt's newly raw and smooth skin but it's good, and he finds himself kissing back.
Behind him he hears a sharp intake of breath and he breaks from the kiss briefly to look at Marisha, who is biting her lip and watching. He looks at her, suddenly uncertain, and she gives him a smile that is almost shy.
"Keep going," she says.
His uncertainty is gone as quickly as it arrived and he kisses Taliesin again, fisting his hands in the soft material of the other man's t-shirt. The angle is awkward, and eventually Taliesin gingerly takes a seat in Matt's lap to make it easier. The pressure feels good, and his cock starts to pay attention, pressing into Taliesin's thigh obscenely.
Matt looks back at Marisha guiltily but she is rutting against the mattress, a hand tucked into her leggings. Her cheeks are pink and her hair is already mussed, and Matt feels obligated to keep the show going.
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timeasmymeasure
"My Friends"; Matt/Marisha/Taliesin
Date: 2016-10-03 02:13 am (UTC)"Why do you even own a straight razor?" Matt asks, not turning around in the chair but instead following Taliesin's movements around the room in the mirror.
"Because I'm a weird goth with daddy issues," Taliesin replies, deadpan. "Why did you ask me to use it instead of shaving your own face, hm?"
It had started as a joke, really, that somehow grew into Marisha dragging him to Taliesin's house, and now the three of them are here in the bedroom and Matt doesn't have an answer that doesn't sound like a weird come-on.
Marisha is laying on the bed, feet kicking back and forth in the air like a teenage girl at a slumber party. "Ignore him, babe, he's just excited he gets to indulge his weird Sweeney Todd fetish."
Taliesin shoots her an unimpressed look and she smiles back at him angelically. "I can't promise I won't sing."
Matt chuckles and rubs at his scruffy cheek. "I'd ask to be Mrs. Lovett but I think I'm a little too fuzzy."
"I'll take care of that." Taliesin, lather in one hand and razor in the other, suddenly looks very serious. "Really, though- you gotta stay still for this. I like you too much to spill your blood all over my floor without a safeword."
"I'll be good," Matt says, and he means for it to come out teasing but it's- strangely earnest. He swallows dryly and juts out his chin. "Have at it."
He hasn't grown much of a beard over these last few weeks but it's thick enough that Taliesin has to lean in to get a close shave. It shouldn't be weird; Matt has never had that "no homo" fear with any of his male friends and he's been casually affectionate with Taliesin under way stranger circumstances than this. But there's this difference in the air he can't define, his mouth growing dry as his eyes shift from Taliesin's hands to Marisha watching intently from the bed.
His jaw twitches and Taliesin holds his chin gently but firmly. "Careful," he says, voice low.
Matt stays perfectly still while Taliesin drags the razor across his skin. His breath catches as the razor slides over his jugular but Taliesin's hands, as much as they might shake sometimes, are perfectly steady. Matt glances in the mirror and looks at Marisha, who he is surprised to see looks the same way he feels- her pupils are blown wide and dark as she follows every movement.
He's apparently completely absorbed because before he knows it, Taliesin wipes his face with a warm washcloth and says, "There you go, all smooth."
"Oh- thanks." His voice sounds distant even to his own ears and there is a weighty pause as he gazes up at his friend.
Taliesin looks over at Marisha, as though asking permission, and at her minute nod, he leans in close and presses a hesitant kiss to Matt's lips. His light stubble feels strange against Matt's newly raw and smooth skin but it's good, and he finds himself kissing back.
Behind him he hears a sharp intake of breath and he breaks from the kiss briefly to look at Marisha, who is biting her lip and watching. He looks at her, suddenly uncertain, and she gives him a smile that is almost shy.
"Keep going," she says.
His uncertainty is gone as quickly as it arrived and he kisses Taliesin again, fisting his hands in the soft material of the other man's t-shirt. The angle is awkward, and eventually Taliesin gingerly takes a seat in Matt's lap to make it easier. The pressure feels good, and his cock starts to pay attention, pressing into Taliesin's thigh obscenely.
Matt looks back at Marisha guiltily but she is rutting against the mattress, a hand tucked into her leggings. Her cheeks are pink and her hair is already mussed, and Matt feels obligated to keep the show going.