As much as he adores you, he’s not feeling so confident about letting you near his face with a sharp razor. It’s not as though he has any chance, though, as his right arm currently rests in a sling around his shoulder. His stubble is growing out too much, to the point you won’t kiss him because you ‘don’t like the feeling’. You’ve been begging to help him shave for a week or so now, but he’s only just given in. It’s getting itchy, anyways.

He’s standing between your legs as you sit on the bathroom counter, his shaving razor in one hand as your other rests against his cheek. His non-injured hand has a gentle grasp on your wrist, so he can guide you a little. “Alright, you gotta use the shaving foam first. ‘Less you want me gettin’ razor burn.”