The water from the shower cut off and my boyfriend presses a soft kiss upon my wet lips, making me giggle. He pulled the thick towels draped on our see-through glass shower doors and dried me off for a bit before handing mine to me. He shakes his wet and saggy afro off like our dog would, causing some beads of water to splash all over me—like our dog would.
"Bruno!" I gasped, shoving him on the shoulder playfully.
One side of his lips raised into that infamous smirk as he said nothing and wrapped the towel around his waist. Fog and steam escaped into our lavish bathroom as he stepped out, just like smoke would on his nightly performances. He extends a hand to help me through the slippery floors and did not disappoint on my analogy when he started singing, "Ain't nobody dope like me, I'm dressed so fresh and clean!"
I laughed when he started shimmying his shoulders, our toes wiggling against the soft rug before sliding them into some bathroom slippers. He slips his fingers through mine and pulled me towards the massive sink on his little corner.
"Come here, babe," he said endearingly, putting his hands on my waist and maneuvering my body in front of his. He pushes me backwards and I let out a shriek and hold on to his neck with both hands, trying to regain my balance from the water dripping under us. Rolling his eyes playfully, he grumbles, "You're so dramatic."
I gasped exaggeratedly, "But I could slip and die!"
"Nah, worst case scenario is a concussion," he immediately dismissed my claim before softy knocking on my forehead with his knuckles. "Or a bump on your pretty little head."
My eyes widened before pouting, "You really don't care about m—"
He shut me up by leaning in and taking my lips in his, kissing me with such ferocity I almost forgot how to breathe. Tightening his grip on my waist, he bit my lip before pulling away. He flashed me his pearly wipes cockily when he saw my flush expression, "I gotchu, baby. You know I won't let go."
I felt our huge sink against my back when he halted his movements. "I swear you think your life is a romcom. Telling me cheesy ass lines like that."
He chuckled and shook his head, "Jump, babe."
Complying, he slid me backwards so he could sit me down on the counter. I grabbed some paper towels nearby and motioned him to come closer.
Settling between my legs, he laid his hands flat on the skin of my caramel thighs as I wiped them through his curls. This takes moisture out without messing with the texture like a cloth towel would. Jason Schneidman, his most trusted hairstylist, would give me tips on how to groom Bruno's mane for me to remind him on the regular. His client never paid attention when it came to that stuff.
I dropped some Argan oil into my palms before running my fingers through his hair. According to Jason, natural oil separates the curls.
He closed his eyes, relaxing as I massaged through his scalp and pressing delicate kisses on my exposed shoulder.
"Bruno, stand straight!"
"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled against my skin, eyes still shut. "I'm just so tired."
I let my guard down a little, my heart aching at the sight of him so rundown from his job. I pecked his lips, making him smile. I moved my fingers gently from his sideburns down to the curls on the nape of his neck. His moans echoed throughout the room and I decided to start a conversation, "How was your day, babe?"
"Eight-hour rehearsals as usual," he said above a whisper, throwing his head back and cracking his neck. "The guys don't say nothing but I know they hate me."
"You guys have been touring for seven years now," I pointed out, proceeding to massage his ears. "They know what they signed up for."
"I can't help it, baby," he opened his eyes, his big browns finally meeting mine. He rubbed on my thighs affectionately. "I just want our shows to be perfect."
"Oh I know, babe." I took my hands off of him and allowed his hair to air dry. I proceeded to undo my head wrap because my wash day would be tomorrow. Puffing up my own curls, I sprayed some dry shampoo into my roots. "I've gone to your rehearsals and sound checks."
"You always fell asleep," he grinned, beating me to get a hold of my shea butter from my corner. Unscrewing the cap, he scoops a dollop with his fingers before rubbing his palms together like a villainous movie character. He holds my arm out with the other to rub it on me and doing the same to the other one. "Are they really that bad?"
"Your rehearsals are horrible because of how you repeat everything from the beginning when someone makes a mistake or you're not satisfied," I explained, watching him grab my leg and holding it against his torso before spreading more of the butter. I combed through my hair for a bit, my nose wrinkling at the thought, "But your sound checks, wow, are just a way for you to show off. What's that Santana song you always play?"
"Europa," one side of his lips rise as he takes my left leg and smoothing shea goodness against my skin. When he gets to my feet, he tickles my soles and my instinct was to kick his rib hard. "I shred that shit on the guitar, though."
It was my turn to roll my eyes at his smugness. I drew my knees in and laid my feet flat on the drawer doors to shield them away from him. I put my comb down and crossed my arms, "You always playing with me."
"Because you're so damn cute," he snickered, booping me on the nose.
I shook my head, acting annoyed, "I guess you don't want us to do masks then."
"Come on, babe!" he grabs a hold of my arms and shakes me. "Make my skin—what's that word you women always say?"
I kept my lips tightly sealed, wanting him to figure out modern terminologies on his own. He was such an old man sometimes.
He thinks about it long and hard before realization took over his handsome features. He flips invisible long hair behind him before redeeming himself, "...snatched for the gods!"
After the words escaped his lips, I doubled over in laughter in disbelief that he just said those words altogether. I was in so much hysterics, I was hunched over the sink, slowly slipping off of it.
He looked at me in concern, "Did I say that wrong?"
Once I got my bearing, I exhaled and smiled, "No, baby, that was perfect."
He holds his face out towards me like a turtle, a mellow smile playing on his lips. "Hmmm."
I couldn't help but hold his jaw into my hands and give him a small kiss. "You washed your face with the cleanser already, right?"
"Yes," he nods. "I just use whatever I find in the shower. It had a lil elephant on the packaging and it felt like jelly on my skin."
"Yeah, that's my Drunk Elephant facial wash," I giggled. "Why didn't you use your Boscia one?"
"Because Drunk Elephant is a catchier name," he said ever-so casually. "Also, lil homie is drunk? I can relate."
"You're unbelievable," I shook my head in disbelief, more laughter bubbling in the pit of my stomach. Mocking him, I trapped him between my thighs and said, "Come here, babe."
He lays his hands flat on the cool counter and waits patiently as I squeeze some of his mud mask into my fingers. His eyebrows knit in confusion upon seeing the viscous dark liquid, "What the heck is that?"
"Tom Ford," I said, already getting ready to spread some on his face before it stays too long on my skin. "Your dermatologist, Dr. Wales, recommended you try this."
He grabs my elbow mid-air, cringing. "Why can't we just use yours? The Goddess one?"
"Baby!" I pulled my arm away from his grasp successfully and instantly went in to slather it on his right cheek. "Stop stealing my products!"
"Aw man," he pouted and crossed his arms. "I said I wanted my skin snatched to the gods and you deprive me of that."
"This Tom Ford mask is for men and the Charlotte Tilbury is for women," I clarified for him. I continued to rub the mask up to his temple and forehead and down to his nose and chin. "You're such a big baby."
He exhaled, "Fuck gender roles!"
"I appreciate your loud and proud feminist movement right now, but this is science," I laughed, washing the remaining product off my hands over on his sink. "They're specifically made for the skin type of the genders."
He let out a "Hmph!" and I couldn't help but laugh harder at the sight of a disappointed Bruno with a face mask on.
"You know the saying, 'stop doing that with your face or it'll get stuck'?" I added. "Literally believe it because you won't be able to move your face when this mask dries."
His facial muscles relaxed and I felt him calm down while I reached for my own products. He wrapped his arms around my waist and moved closer to my body. "And how was your day, baby?"
"Someone sent me pretty peonies while I was out of my office for lunch," I smirked, smoothing the mask onto my face.
His eyes lit up and he decided to play along, "Who could that be?"
I shrugged, "I don't know."
"Some other bastard's tryna steal my girl?" he said fake angrily, hands turning into fists. "I'm gonna kick his ass."
"Well that's the thing..." my voice trailed. "He doesn't have one."
He gasped, grabbing his bare chest. "How dare you?!"
I giggled, "Just telling the truth."
"I have a pretty cute butt," he said softly, his other hand reaching back to pat his own behind.
I shrugged. "I mean, if you say so..."
"As much as that hurts my feelings," his mouth turned into a grin and I couldn't help but envy his pearly whites properly displayed. He immediately placed his hands on my ass and squeezed. Licking his lips, he pulled me closer to him. "You got enough ass to make up for it."
When he started leaning in to press kisses on neck and chest, I had to push him away. "Don't get any mask on my arm, B."
"But..." he said only with his lips, now with a stoic face as his mask was starting to dry out. "I sent you flowers!"
"Don't get me wrong, baby!" I slapped his shoulder softly and scooted backwards, leaning my back against his mirror. "I loved them and those cute lil notes you always write."
"Well, you deserve them," he forced a smile and sighed when he realized he couldn't lift his cheeks and stretch his lips further. "Now if you could please wash this thing off my face so I can kiss you while we're naked."
"Uhhh no," I held my finger over to his face, wagging it. "Five more minutes."
"Come on, Lia," he whined, his fingers playing with the hem of the towel wrapped around my body.
When he took a grip of where the cloth was knotted, he playfully pulled on them. I instantly slapped my hands over to his and complained back, "Literally there's 3 minutes left. Patience is key, boy!"
He crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently. The loud sound of his slides quickly colliding against the floor bounced around the space as he avoided any sort of eye contact with me.
"Why are you being so fussy today? You usually enjoy your skin care routine. And you specifically said you wanted your skin..." I chuckled, wrapping my legs around his torso. "Snatched for the gods."
He looked me dead in the eye and counted down "5, 4, 3, 2, 1..." before carelessly shoving me aside and rinsing his face off.
He tossed my body so recklessly I had stepped off the counter by the time I found my balance. Before removing my own mask, I grumbled, "What a bully."
We turned to each other all fresh faced and he pouted his lips. I giggled before stepping up to place a soft kiss on them. "Now time for toners, serums, and moisturizers!"
I watched the smile on his face fade before he let out an angry groan. "God help me."
.
A/N: It's been a while since I updated. Moving to a new country for college is crazy and school actually started today so I wanted to give y'all something before I get super busy.
This is for StilesBizzel btw and I hope you liked it, boo!