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“ Ouch ”
“Hmm” George made a face as he held the corner between his thumb and forefinger. “Brace for it-”
“ -fuck -”
“-Got it!” He exclaimed triumphantly.
Max scrunched up his nose as his brow turned bright red. He was sitting on the toilet seat, lid down. George’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows as he stood between Max’s legs, his eyes gleaming viciously. This was serious business.
“Look at how much came off” George grinned, showing the wax strip off. “Imagine if you let me at your legs”
Max rubbed his damp eyes. “You will leave my legs alone”
“Not even the chest?” George poked one of Max’s nipples through his shirt. Max batted his hand away.
“I will shunt you”
Unibrow free, George picked up his tweezers and grabbed the back of Max’s head. “Now, stay still again”
Max grumbled.
George chewed the inside of his cheek as he carefully tweezed Max’s eyebrows. He wasn’t making them smaller, it was about shaping them, styling them. He liked things neat and tidy.
“What do you even usually do for these?” He asked.
“My- ow, barber usually trims them”
“Tell him he is shit from me”
“I will” Max winced with every pluck. “What did my eyebrows ever do to you”
“Oh, sorry, are these eyebrows? I thought two caterpillars decided to squat on your face”
Max scowled.
“Pain is the price of beauty, Max,” George said in a sing-song voice.
“I don’t think that this is worth it” George pulled away from Max, his eyes were still watering slightly. “What’s next?”
“Blackheads” George said, peeling away the charcoal strip. “Chin up”
Max obeyed.
George carefully pressed the strip into the fine crevices of his nose. “I would kill for your lips”
Max looked startled. “Sorry?”
“Your lips” George ran his fingers clean under the tap. “They’re so full, it’s mental”
“. . . Okay” He smiled to himself as Max fidgeted, the tips of his ears turning pink. Max could never take a compliment gracefully.
George leaned against the opposite wall and clasped his hands together. “Max, we need to have a serious conversation”
Max blinked at him. “Okay” George saw him visibly swallow. “What is wrong?”
He took a deep breath. “It’s about hair gel”
Max groaned. “What?”
“I hate it, Max, I really do-”
“-for fuck’s sake!”
George gestured wildly. “Your hair is so gorgeous without gel, I don’t know why you use it”
“It keeps it neat ”
“At what cost?” He ran a hand threw Max’s hair as the Dutchman tried lamely to duck out the way.
“You use hair gel too!”
“Yes, stylishly” George picked up and brandished the small blue pot. “To create a look . The gel is going in the bin. Final”
“You can’t throw away my things, I did not agree to that!”
“Please, Max, what did it cost, five pounds” George snorted. “Just be thankful I am not making you throw out all those horrible Red Bull polos”
“You don’t want me to do that anyway,” Max joked. There was an awkward pause.
“Nope, I don’t” George tried to join in, laughing. A few beats too late.
Max played with the hem of his shorts while George busied himself with the beard trimmer. The Dutchman’s ears had turned red. They had both been flopping around the topic with zero grace. Max went there and back to Sardinia and George just waited and smiled. Hey, my friend with benefits, on track adversary, maybe boyfriend who may kick me out of my job, what do you want for dinner?
At least George was getting more sex out of it because Max felt guilty.
“Will this one hurt?” Max mumbled through a clenched jaw as George finished neatening his facial hair.
“The blackhead strip? It shouldn’t” George brushed small, blonde hairs from Max’s shoulders.
He was slow with it, tugging it away from Max’s nose. The man winced but stayed silent.
Blimey .
“Look,” George said sternly. “And this is why you are going to use the cleanser I bought you every day, right?”
“If you think I find this scolding shit sexy, you are wrong” Max sniffed. “What’s next?”
“Face mask” George unscrewed the small pot. “It will take longer, you can go lay down on the bed for this one”
“Yippee” Max said dryly.
He dipped two fingers into the pot and spread an even layer over the top of Max’s cheeks, down his nose and across his forehead.
“I thought facial masks had like-” Max gestured to his face. “-sheets that you put on”
“This is a cream mask, best for drier skin types. I’ll wash it off in fifteen minutes, go lie down”
Max plodded on over to the bed, thumping down into the pillows rather dramatically. Silk pillow covers . They always stayed over at Max’s place, George wasn’t quite sure why. He had a drawer now, and a toothbrush, and a half crushed box of earl grey tea bags in the kitchen.
Jimmy liked him, and George had even seen Sassy once or twice. Max was adamant that that was great progress.
“Now-”
“- Ugh ”
“I need you to choose” He hooked two garment bags over the top of Max’s closet.
Max moaned pitifully. He pulled himself upright, legs dangling over the edge of the bed. One of his socks had fallen down.
“Yes?”
“Dark blue linen-” George unzipped the other garment bag. “- or light blue cotton”
Max just stared at him, impassive. “Explain”
“We are going to Wimbledon, remember? Men’s final” Friends and adversaries watch tennis together, surely.
“Yes, I remember now” Max rubbed the back of his neck. “Um- dark blue linen”
“Excellent”
He gave Max nearly ten minutes of peace while he began packing their luggage slowly and carefully so nothing creased. Although George didn’t trust whoever dealt with luggage on Max’s jet after what happened to the handle of his Bahrain trophy. Maybe he should bring a steamer just in case.
“Right” George clapped his hands. “Time to wash it off”
He trotted Max back into the ensuite and watched with beady eyes as Max splashed his face clean with hot water.
“Face cloth”
George heard Max mutter under his breath. He rubbed his face dry with the cloth, throwing it carelessly to the side. “Are we done now?”
George smiled softly. “Very pretty”
His not-boyfriend rolled his eyes. Max leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip of George’s nose.
His stupid heart skipped a beat.
Don’t react . George hid his face by busying himself with tidying away the cosmetics.
Hey, my friends with benefits, on track adversary, maybe boyfriend who may kick me out of my job-
“-what do you want for dinner?” George coughed.
Max made a face. “I have grilled chicken breast and vegetables already meal prepped in the fridge” He said. “Just need to heat it all up”
George deflated. “Yummy”
“I heat it up while you go out and pick us up something?” Max suggested. “A bakery near to me makes a very nice cheesecake. We could have one between us”
“Cheesecake?” George squawked. “ In season ?”
“We can work it off” When most people made an innuendo, they made a silly face; wiggled their eyebrows, played up the voice. When Max made one, he said it completely straight, flat, like he isn’t even trying to be funny. Like he was stating a fact; we will eat the fattening food, and then we will fuck.
Or, they will eat, and then Max will go to the shower to wash which usually takes forever and George will fall asleep while watching tv and wake up with Max mouthing at his cock through his trousers. And then they fuck. That was more them.
George held up his hands. “Alright, alright, you win”
Max smirked, his eyes crinkling. “That makes a change”
George thought about clouting Max on the back of his head, but kissed his temple instead. He liked that he was taller than his not-boyfriend.