(no subject)
Title: Touch of Grey
Author: Me
Pairing: Billie/Mike
Rating: G
A/N: Brought on by a conversation I had with a friend, and a picture of Mike. It was going to be a trike, but this pairing seemed to fit better.
Though it seemed illogical, Billie Joe, quite possibly the king of all hair and hair care products, envied Mike's hair. Even more against logical reason, and probably everyone's first guess, it wasn't because of its natural straightness.
No, he didn't care how unruly his hair was when he lost his straight iron or how impossible the tangled mess was under a brush; above all things, Billie envied what every aging person seemed to fear, the grey.
He envied the way it was blended in just right. Not too little for it to stick out against those dark strands of brown, yet not so much the rich color itself was tarnished and ruined.
Billie's own hair, underneath all that dye and volume foam, had some grey as well. But, unlike Mike's, his were evil; they grew in thick, blotchy patches all around his skull. It was ugly. That's why he dyed his hair every week. That's why he was so jealous.
For Mike, it was just right. Just a touch of grey, a small hint of maturity, a telltale sign of experience. And Billie loved that. He loved that a lot.
In fact, he loved it enough to take Mike's dye away from him. He loved it enough to throw that pack of Just For Men into the waste basket in his hotel room the second he was alone, and cover it up with a layer of tissues. He loved it enough to do this for several days.
He eventually had to stop when Brittany started to get on Mike's back about it. He didn't want to get his friend into trouble, he even went out against his better wishes and bought the stupid dye for him, explaining that he overheard their conversation, to mask up his aura of wrong doings.
Billie still does it though. Every once in a blue moon he'll invite himself over, unannounced as always, and just hang out with his lifetime friend. Then, just before it's time for him to leave, he'll excuse himself to the bathroom and steal away the evil dye.
And every time he does it, every time he walks out the front door with the small box tucked away inside his jacket, he loves that touch of grey a little bit more.
- - -
Sorry it's so short. I've been a slow writer lately...