players: Park Chanyeol, Huang Zitao/Tao
word count: 1,000
warnings: some foul language
summary: Chanyeol shaves Tao's legs.
a/n: Unbeta'd. Written for an epm prompt. I was too amused to not try it. This isn't even funny, though. I'm kind of upset, but I tried, so no one can be upset with me. (If nothing else, I learned the difference between lotion and moisturizer, although I'm still not sure which should be used after shaving.) The title comes from that one song that used to be on the Venus razor commercials, obviously modified.
"Uh. . ." Going down the road, not across the street. Too inappropriate.
"Wouldn't it make more sense to do that in the shower?"
"Uh. . ." Sure it would. That would also give the whole dorm access to even more of my girly hygienic habits.
Zitao sucks on the lollipop. His tongue and lips are turning blue. "You should do mine," he declares.
"Huh?" Shave your own damn legs. He's eloquent as fuck today.
Any number of excuses and rejections runs through Chanyeol's mind, but his mouth refuses to cooperate, and Zitao's already shimmying out of his jeans. His briefs are a chic black. Chanyeol wonders why he expected a pattern. Then he wonders why he wondered about his bandmate's underwear.
Zitao sits on Chanyeol's bed and flops onto his back, waving a toned leg in front of Chanyeol's face. "I showered this morning," he slurs around the candy.
"Doesn't mean I accept your foot's presence up my sinuses." He pouty-frowns when Zitao hooks his ankle on Chanyeol's shoulder and flexes his knee, pushing Chanyeol back and forth slightly. He can only ignore the Chinese makanae for so long before grabbing the offending ankle and flinging it away. "Lemme get another towel. . ."
He returns to his room quietly, even though the only other members at home are watching TV or sleeping in their own rooms. Zitao's still on his back, ankle hooked over a raised knees and arms behind his head, leaving a stripe of skin between the waistband of his underwear and hem of his shirt, the image of relaxation and total comfort.
Chanyeol sits cross-legged by Zitao's foot, pulls the assorted bottles towards him, and shakes a new disposable razor from its plastic packaging.
He frowns when Zitao hooks his ankle on his shoulder again, but it kind of makes sense. Chanyeol's not about to sit on the floor with his towel and lotion like a servant washing his master's feet, although he's sure Zitao would get a kick out of that.
"Hold still," he instructs, towel in hand. He runs it down along Zitao's leg, followed by handfuls of baby oil he'd already warmed with his hands. "This may smell weird, but it doesn't last."
Zitao sniffs and pulls the candy from his mouth to declare "Baby powder."
Chanyeol works silently for the most part, carefully cutting down the dark hairs that were surprisingly soft, unlike the bristles that sprouted from Chanyeol.
Halfway through the hairy forest of Zitao's left leg, the boy smacks his lips and tossed the stained stick in the general direction of the trash basket. It hits the wall and fell behind a nightstand. "Why's it taking so long?"
"I dunno. Why are you so hairy?"
Chanyeol scoffs and wields the razor limply. "So why am I doing this? Should I stop?"
"It's different is all." He nudges Chanyeol's thigh with the foot still on the bed. "Keep going. It'll look like I'm wearing leg hair shorts if you stop now." He crosses his arms over his chest and shifted to a more comfortable position where he could actually feel his hips. "I think my leg's going to fall asleep if this takes much longer."
"Then you won't feel it if the razor slips. Be grateful."
"If you cut me, I'll tell Kris." If you do that, I'll tell Dad.
"Geez. What is my life that I'm shaving another guy's legs in my bedroom?"
Paper crinkles as Zitao unwraps another candy, otherwise the only sound between the two of them is the glide of the razor along Zitao's skin and infrequent swipes of the towel to clean the blades. Soon, both of Zitao's legs are completely hairless and shines with residual oil. Chanyeol takes another towel and wipes them clean. Zitao hums a whiny protest when the other boy's too rough, which Chanyeol doesn't grace with a reply but does ease up.
Tossing the towel to the floor, Chanyeol pumps a small pile of lotion into his palm and rubs his hands together, warming it all a bit before slapping his hands on either side of Zitao's calf and massaging into the freshly clean-shaved flesh until there is nothing but touchable softness left. He repeats his actions with the right leg, quietly declaring Fuck it. and grabbing handfuls of lotion to rub into Zitao's thighs as well.
"There," he grunts. "All done. Your pants should slide on easier, now; you're hairless and all greased up." And I need a buttload of hand sanitizer.
Zitao runs a finger up his thigh and grins. "Thanks." He gets up onto his knees and presses a blue raspberry-flavoured kiss to Chanyeol's lips before the older rapper can think enough to react and stands to pull on his jeans.
"You're welcome. . ." Chanyeol ignores the burning at the tips of his ears and gropes around behind him for another razor to finish his own legs. In his haste, he rips the bag open entirely, showering his lap with pink plastic.
Zitao bends over and steps into his jeans, hopping a bit to slide them over his feet and onto muscular legs.
Don't look at his ass. Don't look at his ass. Do not. . . GOD FUCKING DAMN IT. HE HAS THE ASS OF ADONIS.
While it is common knowledge in the dorm that Zitao has a very nice butt, and it is a shame to not take advantage of the view, that does not mean Chanyeol will admit to it out loud.
Zitao hides his smirk at Chanyeol's rather obvious conflicted writhing and internal battle with yet another candy. He joins Kris on the sofa to watch the rest of an action movie, draping his legs across the leader's lap.
"What were you doing with Chanyeol? And why do you smell like baby powder?"
"Just bonding." Zitao thrusts his leg into Kris' face, nearly knocking the glasses off his nose. "Duizhang. Touch my leg."
"Why would I touch your leg? Please put it down."
The boy gently thumps his calf against Kris' chest until the M leader relents and grabbed Zitao's ankle, fingers barely sliding beneath the denim to feel smooth skin.
"Did you seriously. . .?"
"Maybe," Zitao replied coyly. He notices Chanyeol slinking out of his room to the bathroom, one leg of his sweat pants rolled up to show a piece of tissue stuck to a red line on his calf.