The hot towel was finally snatched from Sanosuke's face and he had to squint for a brief moment as his eyes readjusted to the candlelight, almost forgetting what it looked like. For a moment, he wondered if this was how most of Megumi's patients would wake up. All disoriented and groggy and slightly terrified. But they were probably greeted with kind words and concern and reassurement. No, they probably weren't about to go straight to hell.

Why did he agree to this anyway? He liked his new look. Stubble was pretty badass. Especially for a badass guy like himself.

And then, distracting him from his thoughts and perhaps heightening his sense of regret, he was aware of a couple of long, calloused hands that were suddenly very near his face, causing him to jump a little. He quickly calmed down, however, remembering that these particular hands, at least in this particular moment, were not aiming to deliver an uppercut to his jaw. In fact, even as they loomed and descended creepily onto his face, the feel of the warm, oil-slicked fingers on his skin was a surprisingly enjoyable sensation. Rough fingers rubbed the oil, vaguely scented with something now that he remembered to breath, in steady, stroking motions. He allowed his eyes to fall shut, his head faintly buzzing as the lubricant was massaged down his cheeks, under his chin, over his upper and bottom lips and back across the sides of his face in firm, relaxing lines.

He had to stifle a soft sigh as the warmth pulled away. But, after a few moments, it was replaced with a most disconcerting sound: the rasp of a blade scraping against a leather strap.

Bastard, he thought to himself in panicky frustration. Couldn't he have done that beforehand?

After about 50 of the hissing round trips- Sano had counted- the room went dead silent for another few minutes, and he had to resist going into another mini heart-attack when the strong hands returned. This time with something that was decidedly much more thick and warmer. He breathed through his nose, trying to enjoy the hot lather and the way those fingers moved across his skin while pointedly ignoring the hammering in his chest. But then...

Click.

Shwing.

His eyes popped open, and he struggled to turn his head and look over before he was halted in place by an intense command.

"I would advise against that," Saitou whispered and Sano immediately stiffened, both at not realizing sooner how close Saitou's face was to his own and how the blade threatened to rip open his jugular. His mouth formed a very tight, very thin line.

He surprised himself by remaining still as the razor came down in its first swipe, shaving down his cheek, the sharp blade carried by its own weight and gravity while guided by a pair of very skillful and attentive hands that stretched the skin for an even closer shave. His upper and lower lips and chin were next, and the tip of the blade was used in short, precise swipes to take care of the stubble there. And then back to his other cheek, where the entire blade was used, scraping lightly over his flesh. All the while, he could both feel and hear the hairs plinking off the edge of the sharp end.

And then the blade was at his throat. A cold shiver twisted down his spine. His chin was tipped upward by Saitou's thumb, baring his neck to the wolf in all its unprotected glory. He felt his skin prickle as the cold metal grazed over the sensitive area, inching slowly and precariously over his quickening pulse. In fact, it seemed to hover there for few deliberately agonizing seconds, threatening to bite right into the source of the light, perceptible vibrations.

And then the last of the shaving cream was swiped off.

"Are we done?" Sano asked impatiently, itching to get up.

"With the first shave," was the calm response.

He gulped.

Fortunately, round two seemed to go a lot more predictably: first the oil, followed by the hot cream, and then finally the razor again. He was able to feel the blade, this time going against the grain of the hair, moving smoothly over his skin, leaving in its wake a fresh, clean patch of soft skin.

His thoughts drifted a bit and he was reminded briefly of the hiss of sharp metal, the glaring shine against the backdrop of the blue sky, leering at him. He could feel the beads of sweat on his face. The tension in his fists. The sudden burn that shot right through his shoulder. Followed by the same razor sharp burn that would quickly and mercilessly engulf him and his life entirely, even though he would have never predicted it in a million years.

He shuddered.

What a great time to have all the blood rushing to his face while the only thing between the straight razor and his sweet, juicy insides was his very thin and now very exposed skin.

Soon, the blade was gone entirely and those warm, skillful hands returned with a new ointment that was patted gently across his face and leaving him tingly and vulnerable.

"Ahou, you can breathe now."

He opened his eyes again to see the wolf's face fairly close to his own. But this time he was greeted with a flash of ravenous gold and a warm mouth on his own.

"Hm. Much better," Saitou said approvingly after pulling back.

"Asshole," Sano remarked, breathless with surprise. "Is that how you treat all your customers?"

"Just the ones that I know are about to tip me very well," he growled, leaning in for another kiss.

And as the razor-edged blaze finally closed in on him, Sano supposed he wouldn't miss his cool new look all that much after all.

Author's Notes: Basically the idea started from: "Saitou is annoyed with older!Sano's scruff and decides to do something about it and spicy things happen."