Dapper Gentlemen

by J Rocci

cheeks and slowed his own breathing down to a nice, even pace. Without apparent conscious effort, Richard synched his breaths to match.

  Delaney hid a smile and quietly went to get a fresh towel wrap. The towel steamer was on constantly during the day, looking like a small microwave and hidden discreetly in a cabinet with a curtained front. The glass door opened silently, and the soft strains of his record played in the background as Delaney returned to gently wrap the heated towel around Richard's lathered face, leaving an opening for his nose and mouth.

  While he left Richard to relax and the first coat of lather to soften the bristles, Delaney retrieved his antique straight razor from a drawer of his bureau. Health codes required the business use a feather straight razor, which looked like a traditional straight razor but allowed a new disposable blade to be inserted for each customer, only this was after hours. A quality razor could last over a hundred years if properly honed and cared for, and this one had been in Delaney's family for generations, passed down from father to son. He wouldn't use anything else on Richard.

  Using his new strop, he flipped it so the wool strop was on top and gave the razor twenty strokes, before returning to the leather side for another fifty passes. When he was done, enough time had elapsed for Richard with the towel. He paused to study the man in front of him, but Richard said sleepily, "You're staring."

  Delaney had to smile at the teasing tone. That was better than all buttoned-up and repressed, but they still had a ways to go.

  "Hard not to," he responded blithely.

  He unwrapped the cooling towel from Richard's face and used it to wipe the first lather off. Tossing it in the used towel bin, he retrieved a small bottle of pre-shave oil. This one he'd made himself with avocado and castor oil, plus a hint of bay rum for that traditional barber shop scent he knew Richard preferred.

  Richard's eyes were still closed and he barely twitched when Delaney started rubbing the pre-shave oil in. Delaney took his time, grinning as he could feel the stress draining from Richard's long frame with each swipe of his fingertips over Richard’s heat-reddened skin.

  Delaney might have to stand on his feet for most of his day, but he enjoyed chatting with his clients or letting them rest as needed. He never could understand the competitive drive that made Richard actually enjoy negotiating contracts and accounts all day. Delaney never left work tied up in knots, except during tax season and health inspections.

  When Richard was breathing deeply through his nose and was actually embraced by the chair instead of fighting against it, Delaney reapplied the cream lather, making sure the foam was cushiony and slick before he started his first pass with the razor, shaving with the grain.

  The drag of the razor across Richard's skin was Delaney's main focus. He hadn't really thought about the trust involved in the act of letting another person shave his face and neck until he'd taken a barber course for his license. His clientele were mostly heavy hitters in Manhattan like Richard, with a few celebrities on the list, and he worked hard to cultivate a relationship with each to put them at ease. Surprisingly, for a man who was constantly on his guard, Richard hadn't required much work at all on that front, but Richard would always be a special case and that was how Delaney liked it.

  When he was finished with the first pass, he repeated the lather, steamed towel, and razor stropping again. Richard was definitely one with the chair by that point, but Delaney gave him two more passes, sideways and against the grain, to ensure the cleanest shave and leave him looking blissed out. Delaney only paused to put on a new record, this one a Fred Astaire compilation that Richard usually denied liking.

  Richard didn't open his eyes until Delaney was preparing the witch hazel on a cotton ball, but that was just to watch Delaney's hands with his leonine gaze.

  "This might sting, dear," Delaney warned him quietly, like he always did, and Richard barely flinched at the chilly antiseptic. Delaney followed it quickly with a balm and a light aftershave, but still kept his touch deft and gentle. Where other barbers may have skipped a few steps, he prided himself on his shop's superior quality of service, and no attention to detail was spared, especially for his most important client.

  The bracing cold of the aftercare had roused Richard from his torpor, but he remained draped in the chair. After his skin had dried and Delaney went to apply a talcum powder coating to finish, Richard nudged his leg playfully with a polished shoe tip and smirked at Delaney fondly.

  Delaney gave him an amused smile as he used his fingers to apply the shave powder, saying softly, "There you are."

  Richard shrugged with his eyebrows, trying not to move his mouth too much when he replied simply, "Long day."

  "So it seems."

  Slowly, Delaney withdrew and started to quietly clear his station. He glanced at Richard in the mirror as he wiped down his razor and stowed it back in his drawer, but the other man had his eyes closed again with a look of complete relaxation on his face.

  Once the oils and creams had been restored to their rightful places, Delaney hovered a moment. Richard looked like ten years had melted off in the last half hour.

  "Can you believe it's been nine years since I first sat here?" Richard asked quietly, eyes slitting open to focus on Delaney. With the burning attraction such a simple look could stoke in Delaney, it might as well have been days instead of years.

  "Only nine?" Delaney asked coyly as he returned the chair to its normal position and unsnapped the barber's cape from Richard's neck. "It feels like so much longer..."

  "Not long enough, if it's only been one year with these." Capturing Delaney's hand before he could step away, Richard pressed a delicate kiss to his knuckles, lips warm and soft next to the metal of Delaney's wedding band that matched the one on Richard's own hand.

  "My thanks for such excellent care," Richard murmured. His heavy gaze kept Delaney rooted to the spot.

  He swallowed hard and managed, "I believe you mentioned an important date, sir?"

  Richard chuckled, absently stroking where his fingers still wrapped around Delaney's. "My husband is a fan of classical jazz. I managed to secure reservations at this exclusive new club he's been dying to visit since it opened."

  Delaney's breath hitched and he could barely keep himself from pulling away in his excitement. "Then you'd best not keep him waiting, Mr. Bixby."

  Laughing at the prim tone, Richard stood and reeled Delaney in closer, sliding a hand around his waist under his vest to effectively still him.

  "Hmm," Richard rumbled, his voice like a contented cat's purr, "I'm sure he'd understand if I said I was perfectly happy where I currently am, Mr. Bixby."

  Delaney melted. Smiling softly, he curled his free hand over Richard's broad shoulder. "I think he'd understand completely."

  Richard grinned and started to slowly sway with the music, gently leading Delaney to the open floor of the shop. They both leaned in until they were cheek to cheek. Delaney grinned and inhaled the fresh scent of aftershave, loving the unique undertones that were inherently Richard and that Delaney would never be able to replicate.

  When a new song started, Richard began to tense again and Delaney made a displeased noise, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

  "We have reservations for eight," Richard said with a sigh, making like he'd pull away.

  "We have time if we go straight there," Delaney hushed him and kept him in place. "Don't undo all my hard work."

  "Hmm," Richard rumbled again, sounding happier. The hand on Delaney's waist moved to massage his lower back, pressing him closer to Richard, and it felt heavenly. He couldn't hold back the moan as his head slumped completely on Richard's shoulder.

  "Don't you dare stop," he mumbled, and Richard laughed, shifting to take most of his weight.

  "I had to field so many questions today about my stupid grin," Richard murmured against his temple. "Every time I saw that briefcase, I remembered that my amazing husband had tucked away a travel itinerary for Bermuda in the main pocket. That he had, apparently, sp
ent weeks conspiring with my assistant to arrange a two-week vacation during the forsaken frozen tundra that is New York in winter..."

  Delaney snorted inelegantly into the amazingly smooth fabric of Richard's shirt. "First, Manhattan is hardly a frozen tundra. Second, we owe Nick something very nice for Christmas this year, because I thought the poor boy was going to have a fainting fit every time you growled at him over your schedule."

  "He hid it fairly well the first week," Richard said with grudging respect.

  Delaney pulled away to scowl at him. "The first week? Exactly how long have you known?"

  Rubbing his back harder, Richard just smirked and Delaney lowered his head with a happy groan. "Never mind. I don't care. Just keep doing that."

  They danced in a lazy shuffle, Richard's lips pressed to Delaney's temple and carefully avoiding the slick styling pomade in his hair. Delaney squeezed his hand in appreciation, and Richard raised their joined hands to kiss his knuckles again.

  "Nine years, and all I got you was a new strop."

  Delaney frowned at his rueful tone. "Nine years, and you make me deliriously happy every day. I told you I wanted a new strop and I love the one you picked."

  Richard sighed. "I'm a workaholic whom you spoil rotten every day and in no way deserve such a wonderful, caring man to dote on and adore me."

  Delaney lifted his head long enough to roll his eyes. "If I spoil you