Ryan does a double take as he passes the open bathroom door and sees Esposito standing in front of the sink, studying a sample can of Damian Wilder's shaving cream and Ryan's favorite straight edge razor. Ryan leans casually against the door frame and clears his throat. Esposito jerks, the can and razor clattering into the sink, and Ryan winces when he sees how close the finely honed blade comes to slicing his partner's palm open.

"I thought we were taking a few hours off from thinking about the case," Ryan says, arching an eyebrow. Esposito shoots him a dirty look and carefully fishes the blade out of the sink, cautiously closing it before setting it back in its place in the medicine cabinet.

"We are. I was just wondering how you can stand to shave with that thing. It's a slit throat just waiting to happen, Sweeney."

Ryan rolls his eyes and pushes away from the door frame to pick up the razor. "First, your Johnny Depp obsession is getting out of hand again."

"I have three nieces who think he's 'dreamy' and a sister who thinks I should make up for shaving off her eyebrows when she was thirteen with free babysitting," Esposito mutters darkly, but Ryan doesn't give any impression that he hears him.

"Second," Ryan says, smoothly flipping the razor open again so that he can gingerly test the blade with his thumb. "Second, you get a better shave with a traditional razor, and it's not hard so long as you know what you're doing and take your time."

Ryan looks up when Esposito scoffs loudly, his eyebrow raising impossibly higher. He steps forward and, before Esposito can move away, captures Esposito's hand and brings it to his cheek. "It's a better shave," he says quietly as he rubs the back of Esposito's fingers against his skin. Esposito watches him, his dark eyes unnervingly intense. "I didn't shave this morning, but I'm still smoother than you are right now, and I bet you did." He moves their hands from his face to Esposito's so that he can feel the difference, and his heart pounds so hard that Esposito must be able to hear it when Ryan's fingers graze his stubble. He drops his hand and quickly looks at the can of shaving cream in the sink. In his peripheral vision, he can see Esposito thoughtfully running his hand over his jaw.

"Okay," Esposito says slowly as he reaches out to take the can of shaving cream. "Show me."

"Show you? What do you mean 'show you'?" Ryan blinks and looks up at Esposito, who doesn't look away as he uncaps the can and squirts a generous glob of cream in his palm. He takes a quick step back in case Esposito tries to smear any on him, but instead the other man tugs his undone collar open a little wider and deftly spreads the shaving cream over his own cheeks and down his neck. Esposito sidesteps around Ryan to rinse his hand off, wiping it dry on his jeans, and taps the flat edge of the razor Ryan's still holding loosely in his fingers when he doesn't respond. Ryan jumps a little at the touch and his eyes flicker to the dot of stark white shaving cream that landed on Esposito's dark blue collar.

"Show me," Esposito repeats. He flips the toilet seat down, sits, and looks up at Ryan, who stares blankly down at him. "I've got a barber in a can, but why not take advantage of an actual barber if I have one at my disposal?"

Ryan takes a wary step toward Esposito and thumbs the hollow ground razor blade again, suddenly aware of how very, very sharp it is. "Wouldn't you rather watch the movie instead? I'll even let you theorize about whether Cameron Frye's crazy or if all that stuff is actually happening."

Esposito rolls his eyes and takes Ryan by the wrist, tugging him forward until he's standing between Esposito's knees. "Just shave my face." He glances between the razor and Ryan's face. "And try not to cut me."

"Right," Ryan says. The razor feels heavier than usual, although the smooth handle is still comfortably familiar in his hand. "Don't make any sudden movements."

He lightly rests the tips of his fingers on Esposito's forehead and gently presses down, tilting his head back. Ryan's stomach flips at how bare and exposed Esposito looks like this, the long line of his neck more vulnerable than it has any right to be. He has to close his eyes for a moment and when he opens them Esposito's watching him, his expression unreadable. Ryan looks away, leaning over to turn the sink on. After one more deep breath, he lifts the razor. He's never shaved anyone else before and he keeps his movements slow and careful. Esposito's nostrils flair when the cold blade first touches his skin, but he doesn't pull away. Ryan's a little surprised at how steady his hand is on the first short, smooth stroke.

Neither of them speak and the room fills with the soft sounds of their breathing, running water, and metal scraping against skin.

Ryan leans in a little closer, careful to shave against the grain, pausing between each swipe to rinse the razor. The blade drags against Esposito's stubble, and Ryan swears he can feel each individual hair catching. His eyes are fixed on what he's doing, but he can feel Esposito's eyes boring into him, the weight of them almost unbearable. He licks his lips and realizes they're parted and that his breath is coming faster, harder. But the razor is still steady and sure in his hand, and when he presses this way and that on Esposito's temple, the other man moves easily under his guidance.

He pauses once before a stroke, looking at the contrast of the cold, hard metal against Esposito's warm, fragile skin, and he looks up then, locking eyes with Esposito. There's so much trust there, more than he would have thought possible. Esposito's life is in his hands almost every day, but not like this. It would be so easy to press down or slash to the side, but Esposito doesn't seem concerned, had actually offered himself like this to Ryan. It's heady, almost dizzyingly empowering, and he rinses the clean blade a second time because he needs that moment. His fingers move down from Esposito's temple to the top of his cheek in a near-caress, and he carefully drags the blade.

When his neck is done, Ryan drops his hand to his throat, the pad of his thumb flat against the underside of Esposito's chin. Esposito swallows and Ryan can feel his Adam's apple bob hard against his palm. The bathroom door, which has never hung right, swung close minutes ago, and the air is thick and damp from the steam rising out of the sink. This has to be the longest shave of Ryan's life, but Esposito doesn't complain, doesn't move, barely even breathes. A bead of sweat slides down the line of Ryan's spine to the dip of his back, and he rolls his neck, trying to loosen the tension that he can feel building in his shoulders. And Esposito watches.

Thank you for reading! Feedback is overwhelmingly appreciated.

Written in response to a prompt at the Castle kink meme on livejournal-"Castle's free samples come into good use when Ryan (or Esposito) shaves the other's face: shaving cream, straight razor, the whole thing. Make it steamy and sensual, please."