#also there was going to be a hockey au aether/dew hair braiding fic but I started this one early

[coffeeghoulie]

Mushy May Day 5

Prompt: Personal Grooming (prompts put together by @forlorn-crows <3)

(please ignore that it is still the fourth lmao)

Pairing: Aether/Mountain

Words: 860

Rating: Gen

Contains: Mountain has sensory issues and goes nonverbal (me too), shaving

Read here or on AO3!

Aether’s trying to listen to Papa. He really is. But instead of hearing what Papa’s saying, all Aether can hear is the scraping noise of Mountain scratching at his stubble. It’s not a bad noise, there are definitely worse noises, but it tells Aether all he needs to know about what his plans are after practice.

Itchy? He thinks in Mountain’s direction, sparing a glance at the drummer. Mountain’s head jerks up, eyes darting before landing on Aether. He doesn’t respond mentally, just nods. 

My room after practice, then?

Mountain nods again, and Aether nods back. He tries to regain focus, actually listen to and process what Papa’s saying about their sounds meshing, but his mind has helpfully wandered off to where the shaving kit sits under his bathroom sink. 

Practice eventually ends, and as Aether packs up his guitar, he watches Mountain slowly put away his sticks. He’s still mindlessly scratching at his chin and throat. Aether shakes himself out of his thoughts and heads back to the ghoul den.

He waits in his room, skimming through a book he’s read a million times before. It takes a few minutes, but there’s a tentative knock on his door. 

“It’s unlocked, come in,” Aether says, just loud enough to be heard. He sets the book down as Mountain enters, opening the door to the connected bathroom and flicking on the light, flooding the space with a warm yellow glow.

Aether bends down and grabs the shaving kit, setting it on the counter next to the sink, pushing aside his toothbrush and soap dish. He hops up onto the bathroom counter, patting the space in between the vee of his legs. “Come ‘ere, Mounty.”

Mountain steps into Aether’s space, nearly pressing his hips against the countertop. With Aether perched up on the counter, they’re much closer in height, nearly eye to eye. Mountain’s eyes are unfocused, and Aether smooths a thumb over his cheekbone. “Shirt off, sweet thing. Don’t want to soak you.”

Mountain turns and tugs his sweaty shirt off over his head, tossing it in Aether’s hamper. As he strips, Aether reaches to his right and turns on the tap. He holds a washcloth under the warm water and wrings it out, reaching out with his other hand to Mountain. 

The other ghoul offers his jaw, and Aether cleans his face and throat with quick, gentle motions, wincing each time the fabric catches on Mountain’s scruff. He sets the washcloth aside and pulls out the soap and straight razor from the kit. 

Aether pours the soap into his palm, working it into a lather. The bathroom fills with the scent of sandalwood and eucalyptus. Mountain takes a deep breath, and his posture nearly melts as Aether rubs the soap along his jaw. 

“I’ve got you, Mounty,” Aether says, flicking open the straight razor. “Need you to stand still for me, don’t want to nick you.”

For several long minutes, the running tap and the scrape of the razor against Mountain’s skin is the only thing they hear. Every few strokes, Aether rinses the blade and goes back to work. It’s meditative, watching Mountain’s eyes start to come to focus again. 

“Head back, sweet thing,” Aether instructs, his free hand going to the base of Mountain’s skull. Mountain stares up at the ceiling, Adam’s apple bobbing as Aether runs the blade over his throat. He’d put his life in Aether’s hands, has done so before and will do again. 

Standing there, in Aether’s bathroom, with a blade that Aether keeps as sharp as their claws pressed to his throat, Mountain feels the safest he’s felt in a long time. 

Eventually, Aether takes Mountain’s chin in hand gently, tilting his head this way and that to make sure he hasn’t missed a spot. He hasn’t, having had years of practice at this topside, and rinses off the blade for a final time. He comes back with the washcloth, wiping off what specks of foam remain. 

“Feeling better, Mounty?” Aether asks, putting the razor and soap away. 

“Much,” Mountain says, leaning down to rub his smooth cheek against Aether’s. His voice is a little raspy, the way it gets whenever he gets overstimulated. “Thank you, nova.”

Aether straightens up, taking Mountain’s face in both hands. He still has to reach up to press a kiss to the tip of Mountain’s nose. “Of course.”

“Your undercut’s getting long again, Aeth,” Mountain says, reaching around Aether to grab the electric clippers from the shaving kit. “You want me to do you?”

“This was for you, ya know,” Aether smiles up at Mountain. “I wasn’t thinking about my hair, you sweet thing.”

Mountain’s lips quirk up as he replaces the guard with the one that Aether likes. Not too short, enough to run his fingers over without being too prickly. “Your sweet thing,” he says, flicking the switch on, “Would like to fix your hair as thanks for the shave. I don’t think I could put a design in it today, but I can fix it up real good.”

“As long as you sweep up afterwards, Mounty.”

Mountain kisses Aether’s forehead and gets to work.