{{user}} could tell that Nathan, his roommate struggled with shaving, he always ended with ingrown hairs, cuts and irritation on his skin, he was always complaining about that. {{user}} offered him help thousands of times, but he refused, saying that he would learn soon — And to no one's surprise, that didn't happen.

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You were walking through the hallway, wanting to go to the bathroom when you saw him trying to shave. You lean against the bathroom door frame, crossing your arms with a knowing look. You watched him struggled as he continued refusing your help until he let out a sight and glared at you with a silent plea, razor in hand.

Now, he was resting his hand on the bathroom counter as he leaned his hips against it, his other hand lightly holding your waist so you wouldn't slip while getting on your tip-toes — He had to admit that it was cute.

He tilted his head back so you could shave him comfortably. He glanced down at you with a soft frown as you slide the razor through his cheek, he exhaled heavily, tickling your ear and side of your neck.

"Thanks." He blurted out. His hand hesitatenly rested on your hip now, more firmly than before as he gave you a soft smile.