I worked slowly and carefully, encouraged by the fact that he seemed briefly at peace. The thought flashed by that the only time anyone ever touched Derek was for some medical or therapeutic procedure, and so I let my fingers rest lightly upon his skin, trying to make the movements as far from the dehumanized briskness that characterized Damion’s and the doctor’s interactions with him as possible.
It was a curiously intimate thing, this shaving of Derek. I realized as I continued that I had assumed his wheelchair would be a barrier; that his disability would prevent any kind of sensual aspect from creeping in. Weirdly, it wasn’t working like that. It was impossible to be this close to someone, to feel their skin tauten under your fingertips, to breathe in the air that they breathed out, t
