The first stroke was slow and careful, almost hesitant, and then Brian hit a groove. He found his rhythm, and the following strokes were smooth and confident. Like he'd done this before. Like he'd done this all his life.

Justin shivered a little. The loft hadn't seemed cold at all until that moment.

"Sure you want it this short?"

"Yeah."

He'd told Brian he didn't need to do this. Didn't have to. They weren't still so broke that Justin couldn't afford a haircut, and besides, Max down by the bookstore had said he'd do it for free. Just to "get his hands on him." Brian had met Justin's joking smile with a look he couldn't read, and the next day there was a new-looking box in the cabinet under the sink, with a new-looking electric clipper inside complete with all the attachments. He could buzz Justin's hair down to any length, including practically bald.

He shivered again. "Tickles."

"Mm."

He swore he could feel Brian's breath against the nape of his neck, the back of his head, and... well, fuck, it wasn't his imagination. He really could. This was going to be so fucking weird.

The clipper clicked off, and without its quiet buzzing there was just no sound at all for a moment. Then a thump -- Brian must've dropped it on the cloth he'd spread across the hardwood -- and Justin felt Brian's fingertips barely graze the skin over his ear. His scalp immediately prickled up into gooseflesh.

"Brian--"

"Shh."

The fingers moved back, and down, and then Brian was cupping his nearly-bare scalp with both hands and just... running them over his skin.

His skin. Justin had thought there wasn't a single inch of him Brian's hands hadn't touched, but he'd been wrong, and now... Brian was claiming this, too. He didn't mind. He tilted his head a little, leaned back into the warmth of Brian's chest and just let Brian touch him. He hadn't known it would feel this good.

Brian's hands came to rest on Justin's shoulders, and he dropped a soft, dry kiss onto the crown of his head. "You should wash up, or you'll itch."

"Mmm. Yeah, I'll... do that." Justin wasn't sure when his eyes had closed, and he stretched as he stood and drifted towards the steps. "You coming?"

Brian was down on his knees in the floor. He'd moved the chair away and was carefully folding up the edges of the dropcloth, hemming in the piles of shorn blonde hair. "Go shower. I'll be there in a second."

"Mmkay."

The shower woke him up a little -- who knew getting your head shaved made you drowsy? -- and Brian woke him up even more, but he didn't really come around until he stepped out of the shower. Until he caught his new mirror-image out of the corner of his eye and actually startled. Brian chuckled once, dryly, and Justin popped him on the ass before stepping back to check himself out.

Justin thought he looked hot. Older, and maybe a little... dangerous. He ran a hand over his still-wet scalp, and smirked at his reflection. Definitely dangerous.

Brian stared at him in the mirror for a long second, then turned away and walked out of the bathroom.