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Another blob of shaving cream goes plop into the sink.
Jensen rinses the straight razor, dips the brush in the shaving mug to reload. "Wider," he says, "and scoot closer to the edge."
Jared shifts on the vanity between the double basins, skin catching and squeaking on ass-warmed Italian marble. "I still think this is a crap idea. Remind me once again why we're doing this?"
"Because I wanted to see it, and you can't ever say no to me."
"You know, Jen, I really hate you some–"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jensen interrupts, feigns annoyance with Jared's constant yammering.
Camelhair bristles tickle, and Jared sucks in a hiss when cold shave cream hits an unshorn spot. "Shit, Jen, can't you warm that stuff up?"
"I'll warm you up later, Sasquatch. Now be the fuck still, or you might end up with your voice a few octaves higher and be unable to ever go forth and multiply."
Jared tries to fold himself in half to check things out, but can't really manage a decent view with Jensen's head and hands in the way, plus all that white fluffy shaving cream. Jensen presses a palm to Jared's belly, urging him to sit up straight.
"How's it look so far?" Jared asks since he can't see for himself.
Jensen snorts a laugh, grin spreading over his face. "Like a before-and-after picture. Now shut the fuck up and let me finish this."
Jared finally shuts up and let's Jensen get on with it.
***
Jensen stands behind Jared with his arms around his hips, gives him a nice slow reach-around. Jared watches in the tri-fold, full-length mirror, sees Jensen peering around him to look since Jared's a few inches taller and Jensen can't see over his shoulder. Jared has a fleeting thought of maybe trying this in reverse sometime.
Jared's hard, blue steel hard, eyes fanning shut involuntarily; he wants to watch, needs to watch because holy fuck this is hot, Jensen's fist gripped tight around his naked dick, hairless balls smooth, softer than a newborn baby's backside grazing the insides of his thighs. No dark dirty- blond thatch, neatly trimmed or otherwise mars the landscape, and Jared's not little to begin with but Jesus Christ on a Ritz cracker, with no pubes he looks fucking huge.
"So fucking smooth," Jensen murmurs, lips brushing against Jared's back, Jared's skin getting all sweat-slicked and sex-flushed rosy. Jensen takes a long salty lick along the line of Jared's shoulder blade; Jared's cock flexes hard in Jensen's hand.
"Look at that pretty dick, big and hard, and nothing in the way of it. Jare, I could just fuckin' eat you up."
"Shit, Jen, I think I could come just looking at it. Better slow down or this is gonna be over quick."
"Can just do it again," Jensen's humid breath hisses against Jared's back, fist flying fast over Jared's cock, jerking him off like there's some sort of time constraint, a deadline to get him off. Jared breathes out hard through his nose, knees crumpling. Jensen strokes faster, squeezes hard, his hand not filled with cock gripping Jared's hip to keep him steady on his feet.
"Two steps forward," Jensen says, practically growls, "gonna make you come on the mirror."
Somehow Jared manages to follow the instruction. Two shuffles forward and his dick touches cold, quicksilvered glass, and that's all she fucking wrote. A moan's wrenched from his gut, like Jensen's yanked it out with his bare hands when his load hits the mirror, runs slowly down it and all over Jensen's hand.
Jensen bites Jared's shoulder blade, eyes going white-out as he loses it, too, paints Jared's ass all wet, warm, and sticky.
Jared grins at Jensen's reflection in the mirror, contemplates that maybe the shaving thing wasn't such a crap idea after all.