I got inspired by the third season and listening to Regina Spektor's 'Small Town Moon' even though this fic relates in no way to it. Everything belongs to the BBC and Henning Mankell. I'm just playing.
Ann-Britt lay on the bed the lower half of her body was covered by a sheet. Her breasts were exposed and illuminated by the moonlight coming through the window. Kurt's left arm lay across Ann-Britt's lower torso. She looked over at his sleeping face. Kurt's face was partially crushed by the pillow; most of his face was covered by fine hair that looked like the beginnings of a beard. She wished he would shave it. She had mentioned it a couple times. She reached her right arm over the bed and stroked the right side of his face. Kurt woke up his eyes blinking from sleep. Ann-Britt had forgotten how light a sleeper he was. Ann-Britt turned onto her side so she could face him. They were quiet for several moments until Ann- Britt asked "Could I shave your beard?"
They had relocated to the bathroom. Kurt was sitting on a stool his legs were spread and Ann-Britt stood between them holding and electric razor in one hand. She handed him the razor and turned to the sink, took a can of shaving cream out of the medicine cabinet and set it down on the counter. She turned on the warm water tap and ran her hands underneath it. She turned off the taps and ran her hands over his face. Kurt closed his eyes and arched his neck enjoying the sensations of her hands on his face. When Ann-Britt had gotten his face thoroughly wet she took the shaving cream from the counter and sprayed some out of the can and applied it to his face. She started up the electric razor and began on the right side of his face, when she approximated that his sideburns ended at. She leaned in so she could gauge how well she was shaving. As she did he gently ran one hand through her hair, holding a strand between two fingers.
"Your hair's gotten so long." He let go of the strand and ran his hand down her free arm. "I think I got tired of having to deal with a trendy haircut. I just let it grow."
"I like how it looks on you." He said. She didn't say anything and sank back into concentrating on her task. She ran the razor down in alternating long and short strokes. She paid careful attention to the skin above his lips and the skin around his chin. She lightly touched his neck with her free hand. "Kurt we're both still naked. That almost seems strange doesn't it?"
"No, it feels very natural, actually quite relaxing, very nice." She had moved on to the left side of his face. When she had finished she washed the razor in the sink. She found a washcloth wet it with warm water and gently dried off the remnants of the shaving cream. She touched the now pinkish smooth skin. "It suits you. You look younger, full of promise." She said.
"Thank you." He said. He put both his hands on both her hips and pulled her down turned her back towards him and sat her down in his lap. She leaned into his chest smiling. She felt completely at ease. She looked up at him he was smiling too. It was the simple pleasures of being intimate and enjoying the company of another. He leaned forward into her face and gently kissed her. He loved her, he loved these private, intimate, displays between the two. It seemed to flow, naturally to be suited to one another. Close and intimate, relaxing not requiring, intense passion or a furious relationship based solely upon sexual congress. Their relationship felt right, it felt right between the two of them. Close and intimate a relationship that sheltered two people from the violence of the world they lived in. It guided them through night and through day.
