Title: Cabin Fever
Author: MindyH
Chapter: 7 Trust
I walk into the bathroom and find Gibbs fiddling with an old electric razor. He doesn't look like he knows what he's doing. He plugs it in and is pointing it at his head when I intervene.
Placing my hand over his and lowering the shaver, I shake my head slowly in silent disapproval. Gibbs' hair has been growing out since we got here and I like the extra length. I'm not letting him shave it again and ruin the effect.
He looks at me questioningly and I shake my head again firmly. I confiscate the offending item and place it back in the cabinet, my eyes lighting on a pair of scissors. Taking his arms, I guide him so that he is sitting on the rim of the bathtub.
Gibbs obeys docilely, watching my movements as I sling a towel around his shoulders and take the glass on the sink and fill it with water. I encourage him to tip his head back, cupping his skull and carefully pouring the water over his hair. He hums and closes his eyes as I steadily run my fingers through his hair, spreading the moisture and massaging his scalp.
My eyes caress his upturned face as he takes pleasure in my pampering, a smug smile playing about his lips. I massage him for a little longer than is really necessary then turn to the sink, retrieving his comb and the scissors.
I asses him for a moment from afar as Gibbs watches me attentively. I used to do this a lot. Our Italian heritage blessed my brothers, sister and I all with thick, dark hair. When we were young, we needed constant trims to keep it in order and, as my Mom refused to pay for multiple haircuts every month or so, the task usually fell to my sister or I to accomplish while our brothers complained and batted at our hands.
Gibbs is far more compliant. He sighs happily as I step between his legs, peering up at me as I comb his hair. I put a hand on his chin, urging his head to stay still and straight and he smirks, gaze focused on my cleavage which happens to be on a perfect level with his face. I set to work, mostly leaving the shorter hair alone but trimming so that the delineation between the top half and the bottom half of his military style cut is not so obvious.
I straddle his legs in order to reach the sides, the denim of his pants scratching my bare calves; then I climb around into the tub to access the back and neaten behind his ears, taking pleasure in the texture and color of his thick hair as I work.
Stepping in front again, I shift close and chop at the top a little so it doesn't sit quite so flat. I rise up onto my toes, pulling the hair straight with two fingers and sniping precisely. The movement brings me even closer to him and I feel his warm breath bathe my skin.
Unable to restrain himself any longer, Gibbs grunts and moves his hands from his knees to my hips, holding and caressing gently, his eyes roving slowly up over me and down again. I sense his gaze like a touch, only deeper. I feel the warmth of his body and the magnetism that pulses inexorably between us now more than ever.
His large palms skate up over my hips to my waist, smoothing deliberate circles over my ribcage and spine, disrupting my clothes. I struggle to concentrate on my task, my eyes drifting closed with his exploratory, engrossed handling and my chest falling heavily as my breathing speeds up.
I draw back a little, burrowing my fingers through his hair, flicking it this way and that, checking for any imperfections or irregularities. Biting my lip, I step into him again and snip a little more, just so we can remain in this delicious position a minute longer. I take my time as Gibbs' hands glide covetously back down to my hips, his thumbs caressing my hip bones and fingers spreading out over my ass through my skirt.
He leans in slowly and places a lingering kiss right at the base of my throat. My toes curl tightly against the floor tiles and one hand slips down over his cheek. He doesn't pull back at once, his nose nuzzling into my skin and his clothes brushing against mine. I hear myself moan softly, leaning into him for a moment before lowering gradually back to my feet.
Looking into his eyes, I arrange his hair with both hands then tilt back his face, admiring my handiwork and my man. Gibbs watches me with azure, absorbed eyes.
I give him a gentle kiss. "Perfect," I whisper: "All done."
I take the towel from around his shoulders and shake the silver shards into the bathtub. Then I pop the scissors back and close the cabinet as Gibbs dusts some stray hairs from his shirt.
"Kate," he says as I'm walking away.
I turn in the doorway, my body tingling from the remnants of his touch, and look back at him, still sitting on the tub. He looks me up and down from under dark brows and runs a hand through his hair.
"I'm firing my barber," he remarks wryly.
I throw a smile over my shoulder at him and mumble: "Fine by me."