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i mustache you a question

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"Please?" Sakura wheedled, hands clasped behind her back. "I promise I won't ruin your pretty face."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" Sasuke griped after spitting in the sink, grabbing the glass on the side to rinse his mouth.

She smiled cheekily, nudging him with her hip. "Nope. Tsunade-shishou thinks I might be distantly related to mules."

He scoffed. "Distantly?"

She shrugged, pushing herself up to sit on the bathroom vanity, bare feet brushing against the cabinets beneath her. "So? What d'you say?"

He stared at her for a long moment, the bottom half of his face still wet from rinsing as he grabbed a green towel. "Why do you even want to?"

Sakura's face pinked up, and she looked away awkwardly for a moment while he toweled his face down. "You're going to judge me if I tell you," she eventually responded, neck still flush with embarrassment.

Warm hands cupped her chin and she looked up skeptically as he forced her attention to him. Her eyes traced the lines of his face—his strong jaw, the soft curve of his ear, the slope of his nose. "You're being ridiculous."

She sneered. "Your face is ridiculous."

"Are you sure they didn't give you that war hero medallion for your astounding sense of wit?" he bit back caustically, rolling his eyes, and then cut off whatever her response was going to be with, "Just tell me."

She sighed heavily, looking every bit like a dejected child, and finally mumbled. "I'm just really fascinated with the concept of shaving a face."

There was a long pause as Sakura's cheeks grew gradually warmer and Sasuke looked perplexed. But then he snorted, raising an eyebrow, and then leaned forward, his arm winding around her to grab at the razor and the shaving cream.

Still, nothing quite compared to the look of childlike euphoria that blossomed on Sakura's face when he placed the tools in her hands. "Don't fuck up my face," he warned, dark eyes warm.

She nodded vigorously, clearly taking task this seriously as she arched backwards to retie her hair up into a ponytail, ensuring that whatever wisps of fringe she had wouldn't interfere with her line of sight. She placed her hands on his shoulders and guided him to stand just between her legs, seemingly nonchalant of the provocative position. And then, with the precision only a medical professional would have, she dispensed some of the shaving cream into her small hand and proceeded to draw a moustache on his face with it.

"Oh dear god," Sasuke mumbled as she threw her head backwards, cackling wildly as her fingers perfected the outward curl before moving into position to give him a beard.

Still, he couldn't deny that she looked beautiful like this. Hair mussed, cheeks warm, and eyes bright. Happy.

She'd taken a sold ten minutes to smooth over the artistic perfection of his foam facial hair before grabbing the razor and tracing along the sides of his jaw. Whatever childish amusement that had remained was now gone, replaced with an indefinable intensity as she slid the blade carefully over the angular curves of his face.

The bathroom was silent, save for the gently running water to rinse out the razor, and he could hear her breathing, peppermint toothpaste breath a gentle breeze accompanied by her inhales and exhales. His hands, unbidden, slid around her waist, and she glanced up at him briefly as she turned his face the other direction, careful to not nick his skin as she unveiled more and more smooth flesh.

"You are the fairest of them all," she breathed, suddenly painfully aware of his fingers skimming under the edge of her top, fingers rubbing circles into her back dimples.

He paused, leaning back some. "What?"

"Like in the fairy tales," she explained, leg winding around his as much as was possible, pulling him closer. "You're the prettiest one in all the land."

He snorted, and the hand that was slipping under her shirt was suddenly down by her butt, over the cotton shorts she wore to sleep as he tugged her to him. She licked her lips, cleaning off the last of the stubble, leaving his face smooth to the touch.

"See?" she exhaled, "I told you I'd be fine. I don't know how you doubted me. You realize I handle sharp objects for a living, right?"

"Yeah, you handle them, and then you slice people open with them," he retorted, dropping his head to rest in the crook of her neck as her own hands wound around his back to drum over his spine.

She rolled her eyes as he sighed deeply when she worked her fingers over the coiled knots in his shoulders. "Oh, and I suppose you just do circus tricks with that katana of yours?"

"What is your point?" he mumbled, lips brushing her neck with every word.

"That just because you eviscerate people for a living doesn't mean you can't shave—"

Her words dissolved into a sigh as Sasuke finally let go, grazing his teeth along her pulse and licking up her neck. "Shut up," he finally replied at the corner of her lips. "I don't know how you managed to make fucking shaving such a turn on."

She laughed as he slanted his lips against hers, and her eyes fluttered shut, unable to form the correct iterations of her thoughts to make sentences. "Where are you going?" she panted as he finally pulled away, turning around to stare at their shared closet as he picked out clothes for the day.

"Mission," he explained, sounding a lot like a kicked puppy as he tugged pants on over his hips.

She threw her head back, eyes catching the sunlight through the windows as she burst into laughter. She sidled up behind him, coiling her arms around him as she pressed light kisses against his shoulder blades. "You know," she crooned suggestively, "next time, if you want, you can shave my legs."

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notes: yeah I dunno man I've always wanted to shave someone's face. I'm quite aware that I'm a weirdo. plus it's like a trust (s)exercise! ...ahem.