Bare // Bad Haircut
Title: Bad Haircut
Author: Sarah
Rating: PG
Words: 1,464
Pairing: Peter/Jason
Summary: Peter needs a haircut and Jason tries to help out.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Peter sighed as he kept his head bent over his math textbook, pushing his outgrown brown bangs out of his face as he tried to study for his last midterm. His hair had really grown since he’d come back to school, his bangs almost long enough to stayed tucked behind his ears, but short enough to fall back over his eyes. “Stupid hair,” he muttered, pressing his right hand against his forehead to hold the thick locks away from his eyes.
“Problems?” Jason asked from his perch on his bed, a biology textbook sitting on his lap.
“I just need a haircut,” he replied.
“Then go get one,” Jason said with a laugh. “There’s a barber like two blocks off campus.”
“I know,” he answered. “I’ll just have my mom cut it when I get home for Thanksgiving break next week.”
“Your mom cuts your hair?”
“Yeah,” Peter turned to face the other boy, curious as to what kind of look was on his face. “Why?”
“You know, I’m not surprised.” Jason seemed to find a new reason every day to point out that Peter was a mama’s boy.
“Oh, come on,” Peter tried to defend himself. “She used to cut hair before she had me, so what’s the point of paying someone else to do what she can do for free?”
Jason laughed. “I guess. Well, you at least get to pick what it looks like, right? It’s not like she decided that you were going to have shaggy hair, right?” Peter just looked at him, his head slightly cocked. “Oh my god.”
“What?” Peter asked.
“She does!”
“She doesn’t pick it,” he replied, “she just makes suggestions.”
“And you listen to her?”
“Well, yeah.” He sighed, pushing his hands through his outgrown hair so that he could actually look at Jason. “I thought you liked my hair.”
“I won’t deny that it suits you,” he began, “and long hair is nice to run my hands through when you’re…” he stopped talking when he saw Peter’s glare, “well, you know. But don’t you want to decide how your hair is going to be?”
Peter shrugged. “Well, actually, I was thinking about cutting it a little shorter. Like without these tail things,” he gestured to the awkward points of hair sticking out on either side. “Maybe make it all even.”
“Did your mom decide on those tails?”
Peter nodded.
“Please cut them off. Or I will.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure you can cut hair.”
“I bet I can,” he replied, tossing his textbook aside. “Really, how hard can it be to cut a straight line? I got an A in art last semester.”
“It’s a lot harder than you think.”
“Did your mom tell you that?”
“That’s not funny.”
Peter’s words sent Jason into a fit of giggles anyway. “I bet I’d be good at it.”
“Well, try it on someone else,” Peter warned, “because one more week of this,” he waved his hand around his messy outgrown shag, “won’t kill me.”
“It might kill me,” Jason said, walking to Peter’s chair and batting his eyelashes, “if I can’t see those beautiful brown eyes for an extra week.”
Peter rolled those ‘beautiful brown eyes’ and sighed. “You are absolutely ridiculous. Just go look at your own eyes in a mirror. They’re much prettier.”
“Nah,” Jason replied. “I was always jealous that Nadia was the one with my mom’s brown eyes and I looked like my dad.”
“Lucky me then,” Peter muttered, secretly grateful that Jason ended up with those shiny, clear blue eyes.
“Please let me cut your hair?” Jason was trying to divert back to the original conversation.
“No.” Peter’s answer was firm.
“Well, how about just your bangs? Then you’ll be able to see.”
Looking back at Jason, he asked, “Are you absolutely sure you can cut a straight line?”
Jason’s face lit up. “I am absolutely sure.”
Peter scooted his chair into the center of the room, dragging his trashcan along with him for the loose pieces of hair that he’d be losing.
Jason walked around to stand in front of him, scissors in hand. He straddled Peter’s lap, taking Peter’s bangs between the fingers of his left hand. “So right around your eyebrows right?”
“About there, yeah,” Peter shut his eyes, terrified of what he was letting his boyfriend do. He was wincing, as if he was expecting pain. In a failed attempt to relax, Peter let his hands rest on Jason’s legs, holding the other boy in place on his lap.
“Okay, here goes.” He guided the scissors in a straight line across Peter’s hair, the other boy cringing with each snip. “There.”
“How’s it look?” Peter was still afraid to open his eyes.
“Fine. Oh wait.”
“Oh god.”
“No, no, I didn’t mess up,” Jason assured. “It’s just that they always kind of curve on the side. Like they’re on an angle.”
“Yeah, that’s fine. My mom can adjust them.”
“I can do it. Hold still.”
With his eyes still tightly shut, he heard the scissors cut off more of his dark hair.
“Okay, now they’re angl-” Jason stopped, mid-word. “Oh, crap.”
“You’re kidding right? Please tell me you’re kidding.”
Jason stood up, looking down at Peter. He cut at a little too far of an angle, one side of his bangs sitting mid-forehead and ending just next to his eye. “It’s not… too noticeable.”
“Oh my god, Jason, what did you do?”
“There’s one piece that’s a little short,” he answered, “but I can fix it.”
“How?” Panic was rising in his voice.
“You just take some from the back,” he replied, as if it was common knowledge. “Nadia got bangs once. I watched them do it.” He carefully pulled some hair from further back on Peter’s head to match with his bangs. It was just a little longer than where he cut the bangs. Adjusting them in the right spot, Jason snipped a few hairs so that they were almost even. “That’s a little better…” he trailed off. “Maybe if I…” he snipped a few other places in the back, more and more of Peter’s hair falling to the floor. He stepped back to examine his work. “Hmm.”
Peter opened his eyes, catching a glimpse of himself in his wall mirror. “Oh. My. God.” His words were spaced out, each their own sentence, growing louder with each syllable. “Jason.”
“So you like it?” he asked, his voice hopeful. He tried to smile, but quickly stopped when he noticed Peter’s glare.
“What did you do?” He stood up, rushing to his closet to dig out a hat. “You should never go near a pair of scissors again.” He pulled the old baseball cap over his awkwardly cut hair.
“If it helps,” Jason added, “I still think you look cute.”
“Aw, really?” he smiled wide.
“Yeah,” Jason smiled too, putting the scissors down and walked over to Peter.
“Because that is just so reassuring,” he replied as Jason pulled him into a hug. “I feel so much better about this whole monstrous haircut now.” The sarcasm was dripping from his voice so much that Jason almost thought he was hugging Nadia.
“It grows back.”
“Not fast enough.”
*
When Peter returned from Thanksgiving break, Jason was already in their dorm, sitting on his bed and watching TV. “Hey you,” he called, not looking up, as Peter walked in the room.
“Hey.” Peter threw his bag on the bed. “How was your break?”
“It was good,” he said, finally looking up. “Dinner was… oh wow.” When he went to glance at Peter, he noticed his even newer haircut. “Wow.”
“Don’t even, Jase,” Peter warned. “This is all your fault.”
“It doesn’t look bad,” he clarified. “It’s just… short.”
“Yeah, well, she had no choice,” he explained. “After a half hour of screaming at me for letting my roommate do this, she said the only way to fix it was to cut it all off and start over.” Peter risked a glance in his mirror, sighing as he tried to get used to the short cut. He no longer had bangs. Well, long ones anyway. They sort of ended in the middle of his forehead, but if he pushed them the right way, they stuck out, kind of like the haircut most boys had at his age. The back was practically shaved though, which he hated the most.
“Sorry,” Jason said. “I guess it was harder than I thought.”
“Oh you think?” Peter asked with a laugh, walking over to Jason’s bed. He moved over, making room for Peter to cuddle up beside him. “At least it’ll grow back. Eventually.”
“So, Peter?” Jason asked after a few minutes of silence.
“Yeah?”
“Did your mom pick out your new haircut?”
Author: Sarah
Rating: PG
Words: 1,464
Pairing: Peter/Jason
Summary: Peter needs a haircut and Jason tries to help out.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Peter sighed as he kept his head bent over his math textbook, pushing his outgrown brown bangs out of his face as he tried to study for his last midterm. His hair had really grown since he’d come back to school, his bangs almost long enough to stayed tucked behind his ears, but short enough to fall back over his eyes. “Stupid hair,” he muttered, pressing his right hand against his forehead to hold the thick locks away from his eyes.
“Problems?” Jason asked from his perch on his bed, a biology textbook sitting on his lap.
“I just need a haircut,” he replied.
“Then go get one,” Jason said with a laugh. “There’s a barber like two blocks off campus.”
“I know,” he answered. “I’ll just have my mom cut it when I get home for Thanksgiving break next week.”
“Your mom cuts your hair?”
“Yeah,” Peter turned to face the other boy, curious as to what kind of look was on his face. “Why?”
“You know, I’m not surprised.” Jason seemed to find a new reason every day to point out that Peter was a mama’s boy.
“Oh, come on,” Peter tried to defend himself. “She used to cut hair before she had me, so what’s the point of paying someone else to do what she can do for free?”
Jason laughed. “I guess. Well, you at least get to pick what it looks like, right? It’s not like she decided that you were going to have shaggy hair, right?” Peter just looked at him, his head slightly cocked. “Oh my god.”
“What?” Peter asked.
“She does!”
“She doesn’t pick it,” he replied, “she just makes suggestions.”
“And you listen to her?”
“Well, yeah.” He sighed, pushing his hands through his outgrown hair so that he could actually look at Jason. “I thought you liked my hair.”
“I won’t deny that it suits you,” he began, “and long hair is nice to run my hands through when you’re…” he stopped talking when he saw Peter’s glare, “well, you know. But don’t you want to decide how your hair is going to be?”
Peter shrugged. “Well, actually, I was thinking about cutting it a little shorter. Like without these tail things,” he gestured to the awkward points of hair sticking out on either side. “Maybe make it all even.”
“Did your mom decide on those tails?”
Peter nodded.
“Please cut them off. Or I will.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure you can cut hair.”
“I bet I can,” he replied, tossing his textbook aside. “Really, how hard can it be to cut a straight line? I got an A in art last semester.”
“It’s a lot harder than you think.”
“Did your mom tell you that?”
“That’s not funny.”
Peter’s words sent Jason into a fit of giggles anyway. “I bet I’d be good at it.”
“Well, try it on someone else,” Peter warned, “because one more week of this,” he waved his hand around his messy outgrown shag, “won’t kill me.”
“It might kill me,” Jason said, walking to Peter’s chair and batting his eyelashes, “if I can’t see those beautiful brown eyes for an extra week.”
Peter rolled those ‘beautiful brown eyes’ and sighed. “You are absolutely ridiculous. Just go look at your own eyes in a mirror. They’re much prettier.”
“Nah,” Jason replied. “I was always jealous that Nadia was the one with my mom’s brown eyes and I looked like my dad.”
“Lucky me then,” Peter muttered, secretly grateful that Jason ended up with those shiny, clear blue eyes.
“Please let me cut your hair?” Jason was trying to divert back to the original conversation.
“No.” Peter’s answer was firm.
“Well, how about just your bangs? Then you’ll be able to see.”
Looking back at Jason, he asked, “Are you absolutely sure you can cut a straight line?”
Jason’s face lit up. “I am absolutely sure.”
Peter scooted his chair into the center of the room, dragging his trashcan along with him for the loose pieces of hair that he’d be losing.
Jason walked around to stand in front of him, scissors in hand. He straddled Peter’s lap, taking Peter’s bangs between the fingers of his left hand. “So right around your eyebrows right?”
“About there, yeah,” Peter shut his eyes, terrified of what he was letting his boyfriend do. He was wincing, as if he was expecting pain. In a failed attempt to relax, Peter let his hands rest on Jason’s legs, holding the other boy in place on his lap.
“Okay, here goes.” He guided the scissors in a straight line across Peter’s hair, the other boy cringing with each snip. “There.”
“How’s it look?” Peter was still afraid to open his eyes.
“Fine. Oh wait.”
“Oh god.”
“No, no, I didn’t mess up,” Jason assured. “It’s just that they always kind of curve on the side. Like they’re on an angle.”
“Yeah, that’s fine. My mom can adjust them.”
“I can do it. Hold still.”
With his eyes still tightly shut, he heard the scissors cut off more of his dark hair.
“Okay, now they’re angl-” Jason stopped, mid-word. “Oh, crap.”
“You’re kidding right? Please tell me you’re kidding.”
Jason stood up, looking down at Peter. He cut at a little too far of an angle, one side of his bangs sitting mid-forehead and ending just next to his eye. “It’s not… too noticeable.”
“Oh my god, Jason, what did you do?”
“There’s one piece that’s a little short,” he answered, “but I can fix it.”
“How?” Panic was rising in his voice.
“You just take some from the back,” he replied, as if it was common knowledge. “Nadia got bangs once. I watched them do it.” He carefully pulled some hair from further back on Peter’s head to match with his bangs. It was just a little longer than where he cut the bangs. Adjusting them in the right spot, Jason snipped a few hairs so that they were almost even. “That’s a little better…” he trailed off. “Maybe if I…” he snipped a few other places in the back, more and more of Peter’s hair falling to the floor. He stepped back to examine his work. “Hmm.”
Peter opened his eyes, catching a glimpse of himself in his wall mirror. “Oh. My. God.” His words were spaced out, each their own sentence, growing louder with each syllable. “Jason.”
“So you like it?” he asked, his voice hopeful. He tried to smile, but quickly stopped when he noticed Peter’s glare.
“What did you do?” He stood up, rushing to his closet to dig out a hat. “You should never go near a pair of scissors again.” He pulled the old baseball cap over his awkwardly cut hair.
“If it helps,” Jason added, “I still think you look cute.”
“Aw, really?” he smiled wide.
“Yeah,” Jason smiled too, putting the scissors down and walked over to Peter.
“Because that is just so reassuring,” he replied as Jason pulled him into a hug. “I feel so much better about this whole monstrous haircut now.” The sarcasm was dripping from his voice so much that Jason almost thought he was hugging Nadia.
“It grows back.”
“Not fast enough.”
*
When Peter returned from Thanksgiving break, Jason was already in their dorm, sitting on his bed and watching TV. “Hey you,” he called, not looking up, as Peter walked in the room.
“Hey.” Peter threw his bag on the bed. “How was your break?”
“It was good,” he said, finally looking up. “Dinner was… oh wow.” When he went to glance at Peter, he noticed his even newer haircut. “Wow.”
“Don’t even, Jase,” Peter warned. “This is all your fault.”
“It doesn’t look bad,” he clarified. “It’s just… short.”
“Yeah, well, she had no choice,” he explained. “After a half hour of screaming at me for letting my roommate do this, she said the only way to fix it was to cut it all off and start over.” Peter risked a glance in his mirror, sighing as he tried to get used to the short cut. He no longer had bangs. Well, long ones anyway. They sort of ended in the middle of his forehead, but if he pushed them the right way, they stuck out, kind of like the haircut most boys had at his age. The back was practically shaved though, which he hated the most.
“Sorry,” Jason said. “I guess it was harder than I thought.”
“Oh you think?” Peter asked with a laugh, walking over to Jason’s bed. He moved over, making room for Peter to cuddle up beside him. “At least it’ll grow back. Eventually.”
“So, Peter?” Jason asked after a few minutes of silence.
“Yeah?”
“Did your mom pick out your new haircut?”