Chapter Six #4
“Huh. Cool. This stropping business is quite the operation.” Troy watched Brian’s arm flying with practiced ease. It was somehow soothing.
Brian smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“It’s one of my favorite rituals. Feels good to do it again.
” He ran his fingers over the leather strop, his gaze loving.
“Even though Grandpa taught me this when I was a teenager, I usually used crappy disposable razors and cheap shaving cream. Thought this was old-fashioned. Didn’t have time for it, you know?
Before my first commercial flight as a pilot, I pulled out this kit he’d given me.
I don’t really know why. But after that, I started bringing it everywhere.
” He blinked and shook his head. “Sorry. Don’t know why I’m babbling. ”
“I don’t mind.” On the contrary, it was reassuring to listen to Brian talk about something with that passion in his voice.
Brian gazed around. “Hmm. Usually I’d shower or use a hot towel. Steam opens the pores and all that. Hold on, I know.”
He took one of the empty coconut half shells, filled it with ocean water, and set it at the edge of the fire. Hanging the washcloth over a stick, he held it to the steam when it began to rise.
“Obviously wouldn’t normally use saltwater for a shave, but I think the steam should be okay. Close your eyes.”
Sitting cross-legged, Troy did as he was told. The warm, damp cloth pressed against his face. “That’s nice,” he mumbled.
After a minute or so, Brian took the cloth away, and Troy opened his eyes.
Brian opened a round wooden container. “Shaving soap,” he explained.
“You know, I didn’t even think of this when we’ve washed up.
Coconut oil variety, because apparently we can’t get enough coconut here on… whatever this island is called.”
“We should name it. Coconut Island? No, that sucks.”
With a snort, Brian poured a splash of rainwater into an empty half shell and stuck in his short shaving brush.
“I bet there’s a Coconut Island already.
Some awful theme resort. Not that I would mind being there now drinking pina coladas.
” He circled the brush in the container of soap for almost a minute, then patted some fresh water onto Troy’s face.
“Trying to use as little water as I can. I know we shouldn’t waste it on silly things like this. ”
“It’s not silly. I mean, I know it’s not, like, essential to life, but I am so excited to get this sweaty mess off my face. Island spa day.”
Brian smiled. “Do you often have spa days?”
“Yeah, probably more often than most people. Have you ever had a hot stone massage? It’s heaven.”
“I have not. I’ll have to look into that.” He frowned. “Hmm. Not sure the best way to do this. In the barber shop, you’d be in one of the chairs and it would be reclined. Maybe lie down?”
Troy stretched out on the blanket, brushing sand away. “This good?”
“Hold on.” Brian disappeared into the teepee and returned with one of the flannel blankets. He folded it into a square. “Sit up for a sec?”
Once they were settled, Brian sat cross-legged and Troy stretched out, his head pillowed on the blanket in Brian’s lap. He rubbed his heels in the warming sand. Tipping his head back, he could see up Brian’s nose.
Brian patted more water on Troy’s face. “Ready?”
“Yep.” Troy closed his eyes and folded his hands over his stomach. His hip bones protruded, and he scratched at his belly.
“Tell me if anything’s uncomfortable, or if I nick you.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Brian’s chuckle was low and rumbly. “You’re not worried?”
Troy cracked one eye open. “Why would I be worried?”
“Because of this?” He held up the razor, glinting dangerously in the sun.
Troy closed his eye. “I trust you.”
Brian didn’t say anything, and Troy was about to tell him not to be nervous when the warm facecloth pressed against his cheeks again. “A little more steam,” Brian murmured.
Troy could hear him lathering a little more, and when the facecloth was removed, the brush dabbed his cheek.
The shaving soap felt thick as Brian spread it over his face, and every so often there was a little splash of water.
Brian tapped Troy’s cheeks or chin when he wanted him to angle his head, and Troy followed his commands, sighing as he listened to the birds chirp and cicadas—or whatever they were—whine.
They let the campfire peter out after breakfast since it was too hot to sit near it otherwise, but he could still smell sweet burning wood as the fire died.
When the blade scraped up his neck, he lifted his chin. Brian’s exhales tickled Troy’s nose as he shaved him with careful, even strokes. Troy dug his toes into the sand, resisting the urge to moan contentedly. Island spa day was a thing that needed to happen on the regular.
Brian’s hands were gentle, one of them on the top of Troy’s head, holding him still. They must have made quite a picture, and Troy smiled to himself.
“What?” Brian asked, still scraping the blade evenly.
“Just imagining the headlines if the paps were here to snap this photo.”
Brian’s low laughter puffed over Troy’s face. “Desert island gay shocker!”
“Next Up bad boy in gay love nest!”
“We’d sell a lot of papers.” Brian dabbed more soap and water onto Troy’s chin. “This cleft is tricky. Hold really still and stop talking.”
He did, content to lay there in peaceful silence as Brian navigated the planes of his face. When Brian was finished, he patted Troy’s cheek.
“Smooth as a baby’s bottom.”
Blinking, Troy sat up, running a hand over his face.
“Oh my God, that feels so much better. Thank you.” He picked up the wooden bowl of shaving soap.
“This stuff is amazing. I wonder if we can make coconut oil? I mean, I know there’s other stuff in here, but if we had coconut oil we could fry our food with it. ”
“Good idea. It’ll be our new project.” Brian held up the signaling mirror. “Look good?”
Troy could only see snatches of his face in the little mirror, since the signaling circle in the middle was fairly big. “Amazing shave. I feel more like myself again.” He patted his head. “Man, the salt and sun and no product is drying out my hair big time. This is going to be a curly mess soon.”
“I have a vial of hair oil. Another thing my Grandpa taught me. He swore by it.”
“I don’t mind, actually. Is that weird? I’ve had to keep my hair short for years because Ty was the one with curls. The cherubic, innocent boy young girls could feel safe loving.”
“Because pseudo bad boys don’t have curls.”
“Nope. But fuck it. I’m letting my hair get shaggy. Well, unless it starts driving me nuts, in which case you’re shaving my head.”
Brian chuckled. “Duly noted.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Now to see if I can shave myself. That mirror’s too small to be any good.”
“I can help if you tell me what to do.”
“You sure?”
“I think I can fit you into my schedule if we make it snappy.”
Laughing, Brian cleaned the razor with a few drops of fresh water. “How about I shave myself and you can tell me when I’ve missed a spot. Get you used to the process.”
Troy put on mock offense. “You mean you don’t want me at your throat with a straight razor when I have no idea what I’m doing? Rude.”
With a smile, Brian draped the washcloth on the stick again, the dregs of the fire still enough to set the water in the coconut shell steaming. “I’m funny that way. Okay, first lesson: don’t cut yourself or anyone else.”
Troy nodded seriously. “I’m so glad you’re here to tell me these things.”
Laughing, they passed the morning shaving, then fished for lunch. They stoked the signal fire and flashed the mirror, and it was a good day. Troy decided to be in the now and enjoy it.