Obsession part 5 by Fantasy Weaver

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Note

1: Some slightly adult content ahead.
2: Some foul language ahead.

Obsession

Part five

The weekend became a time to engross himself in everything that had to do with hair. His parents were mostly gone for the weekends, so he didn’t have to contain himself when he needed to feel satiated.

His computer chair and bed became the center of all activities of the flesh. It was more than pleasant.

At one point he lay sprawled on his bed, his ear buds relaying the sounds of a three dimensional "head shaving experience". ASMR, he believed it was called. The sounds came into one ear or the other, depending how close the clipper had been brought to the microphones during the recording. That had made him writhe on his bed and whimper in delight. Shivers ran through him every time the sound of the clipper "passed by" his ear.

Showering was kept scrupulous. He shaved, cleaned his body, paid special attention to his nether regions and gave himself conditioning treatments for his hair to keep it as soft as fur. He thought about the barber’s hands running through its thick length, about how they might pull at it, or caress it. ‘What beautiful growth you have here’, he might say. ‘Perhaps I should harvest it’, he would whisper in the raven’s ear.

Sebastian felt like a love struck school girl. He giggled at the way his thoughts arranged themselves. He wondered what the barber’s name was. After all, he should know the name of the man he’s pinning after. Perhaps he had a very masculine name; he secretly hoped so.

He couldn’t wait for Monday.

XXXXX

Monday had never been a very busy day in the barbershop, but they still had three clients; two of which were in the chairs, getting attended to.

"Hold still now" the white haired barber said with a grin. He brought the comb and scissors to the child’s head.

The boy was no older than six, with a shock of mahogany hair on his tiny head. His big eyes were green and full of respect for the tall man before him. His voice, though gentle, demanded absolute respect of the instructions.

Clumps of brown hair fell to the light blue cape as the barber snipped and snipped. He preferred using scissors at all costs on small children. Most of them didn’t like the sound of his clippers, which is understandable.

He gave the sides a good shearing down, and left the top a bit longer. It was still enough to hide the scalp. The kid was lucky to have such thick hair.

"Could you get his neck cleaned up?" the boy’s father asked from his position beside the chair.

A smirk displayed itself on the pale man’s lips. "No one leaves here without passing under my razor at least a bit." The father chuckled, a contrast to the terrified look the child was giving him. The barber smiled reassuringly. "Don’t worry buddy, I’ll just get your neck cleared up; it won’t even hurt."

The boy gave a wobbly smile.

As the man lathered his young client’s neck, having the boy giggle a bit in the process, his eyes went to the watch on his wrist. He counted in his head: ‘three, two, one…’

His red gaze lifted as he reached for the straight razor. They looked beyond the glass window to the figure that had just placed himself in his usual spot by the glass. ‘Caught red handed’, he thought amusedly as he caught the widened eyes beneath the black fringe.

The youth outside hurried away from the scene of his crime. No, crime was an exaggeration. Perhaps it was just his guilty pleasure.

The barber looked over at Kent who was watching him intently.
"You owe me another twenty, my dear Kent."

XXXXX

It was the last week of April now and, at long last, the winter’s chill seemed to melt away. It was the first time since September that Sebastian had been out in a tee-shirt. His vest was still stuffed in his bag however, in case a sudden cold wind decided to pick up. He had celebrated this minor occurrence with the purchase of a chocolate stuffed pastry. He was licking his fingers of the crumbs as he was approaching the barbershop.

As the teen wiped his hands on jeans to get rid of the clinging moisture, he heard the shop’s bell give a happy chime as someone came out of the quaint building. When Sebastian saw who it was, his heart leaped up to his throat.

HIS barber was coming out with a few linen sheets that he deposited on the stairs beside him, save for one which he unfolded. Sebastian didn’t stop walking, nor did he stop staring, but his knees felt like jelly. It was as if he would fall any time soon.

But then, the barber shook the sheet out as a warm gust of wind rolled by. Sebastian watched, as if time had slowed down, much like the first time he had peeked inside the shop so many weeks ago. The barber’s platinum hair shone in the afternoon sunlight as it was tossed by the breeze; the white linen sheet in his hands the symbol of his work as it flowed through the air, lifting the dust off of it.

The sight had Sebastian swallowing excess saliva. If he didn’t have self-control and social anxiety, he might have run up under that sheet until it was pressed against his neck by those skillful hands. The thought alone was enough to leave him breathless, but the sight of the barber was what really took his breath away.

And still he walked. He didn’t know how he was able to, seen as his body no longer seemed to be respond to stimuli outside that which was emanating from the barber. But his eyes, from under his long fringe of black hair, were drawn to him like a moth to a flame, however clichéd that sounded. And then, red eyes the color of the proverbial fire seared into him with an intensity that ALMOST had him tripping over his own feet.

He forced himself to return to the real world. And as everything came back into focus, he seemed to be able to walk by the man with little trouble.

"Would you like to come take a seat inside, young man?" the barber asked him just as he had placed a foot of distance between them.

He could almost SEE the smile that was sure to be on that handsome face right at that moment. But Sebastian lacked the capability of speech at that moment, with his tongue seeming to be tied up.

He could feel heat creep up to his cheeks and, to his horror, his neck, which some of it could be seen from under his hair. The barber was probably staring at the redness as it was. The raven’s embarrassment fueled his fight or flight instinct and right then, it was telling him to run for the f****** hills.

His shoulders bunched up, he bowed his head and sprinted away from the barber.

The white haired man was left to wonder if he would ever get the boy to speak with him.

The youth was, in one word, adorable.

XXXXX

May

‘The father and his son walked into the barbershop. The older man was in a positively furious mood. His young son had been caught stealing with his friends. A bit of healthy discipline was in order.

The barber calmly turned his fire-like gaze from the newspaper in his hands to the pair in his shop. The boy was squirming in his father’s grasp.

"My, my. What seems to be the problem here?" the barber asked in his baritone voice.

The father loosened his grip on the boy’s arm to instead grab him by the scalp. The youth hissed in pain and shot his elder a nasty glare.

"My son was caught stealing with his friends. They got off easy, but this one" he pulled at the mop of black hair on the boy’s head, "isn’t getting the same treatment."

The barber nodded, acknowledging the man’s choice. "You came to the right place then." He then turned his attention to the boy. His hands took the white cape from the old-fashioned barber chair and shook it a few times, making the air clap. "Come have a seat son. Your father has the right idea."

The raven-haired teen pulled his hair free from his father’s unyielding grasp. "I don’t want to get my hair cut!" he complained, earning a smack to the back of his head. His father dragged him over to the chair and pushed him in.

The barber placed his firm grip on the unwilling boy’s shoulders and pushed him up and back, seating him right. He then caped the boy, fastening the linen tightly around his neck, like a chain on a prisoner. There was no escape.

"This isn’t fair" the boy complained

The father looked at his son through his fringe. "I’ll be leaving to go run an errand. In the mean time, you’re to listen to the barber in my absence." He turned his strict
gaze to the barber. "Do your worst. When I come back I want to see some results." With that he left the pair alone.

The barber swiveled the chair so it faced the mirror. The boy looking back at him looked like nothing more that a brat, but, he was sure, that under all that hair would be handsome young man.

The grey eyes of his young client widened when a large clipper was lifted into pale hands and turned on. There wasn’t even a guard on it.

"Don’t…" the teen pleaded, a look of both fright and excitement written on his face.

The barber gave him a wicked smile that was supposed to reassure him.

"Trust me, I’m a barber."

The barber’s hand roughly pushed the boy’s head down so his chin was nearly touching his chest. And then the clippers were running unashamedly over his long black locks in the back of his-’

"Sebastian Van Neste!"

The raven nearly jumped out of his seat when he heard Mr. Harris, the math teacher, call out his name. The whole class was looking at him now. Great.

"Y-yes, sir…?" he all but whispered, his head bowed low to hide his eyes and the blush that surely marred his features.

"I asked you what the answer to problem number seven is" the teacher said exasperatedly.

The teen was glad that he didn’t have to wrack his mind for answers. "The solution is x = 356."

"Thank you." Lowly, so barely anyone could hear: "after the third time."

Sebastian felt his face heat up even more under so many eyes.

The raven was glad when class ended, so he could get away from all the other students.

May had dawned on them and with it brought students trying to study hard in a last-ditch attempt to save their school year. Sebastian didn’t have to worry about that though, but if he couldn’t stop day-dreaming like he did in math today he would need solutions for HIS problems fast.

This was the reason he needed to speak with Nicolas and Scarlet.

When he found them, the two were waiting for him to head off to lunch, but upon seeing the look he had on his face, the girl and boy started worrying about their raven haired friend.

"Guys, can I talk to you about something…" he looked around, worried about ears listening in. "In private, please?"

Nicolas’ blue eyes darkened as they took on a more serious expression. Sebastian rarely, if ever, spoke about his feelings. This, the blonde presumed, would be a conversation to keep to themselves.

Besides, with the look Scarlet was throwing him, it was a sure warning sign that said if ever he opened his mouth about this, he was dead.

"Sure, let’s go in the stairwell" the red-head suggested.

The stairwell was almost never used during lunch hours, and with the echo the place provided, one would know when someone was coming. If they spoke silently enough, the echo would be barely noticeable.

They entered the stairwell from the bottom most level and sat in a small alcove under the stairs themselves. The place had always been their unanimous meeting spot for discussions such as these. The place was private, illuminated by a window under the stairs, and it was one of the few places that were clean. They sat here now, and Sebastian felt nervous.

Scarlet looked at him with her doe-like green eyes. They were filled with worry. "What is it, Sebastian?"

Nicolas said nothing, but waited patiently, which was a first for him.

Sebastian thought about this. He was about to spill his guts to his friends about him having a hair fetish and being obsessed with a person he didn’t even know. How was he going to do this? He felt trapped, but he wanted their advice. They’ve always looked out for each other in the past, even if it was over some little thing.

This? Well, this was a big thing. It was a thing that took up every one of his waking hours. This was terribly adult compared to the little discussions they’d had here before. It all seemed like too much now. It was too private.

But they looked at him, his best friends, with worried expressions, nervousness in their postures as well. They were just as stressed as he was, though they had no idea what they were in for.

He sighed, resigned to his fate. "I guess I’ll start from the beginning."

Sebastian recounted the day the bridge was blocked and how the sight of the shop and its owner had intrigued him at first. How he had returned the day after, and the day after that and so on, until intrigue developed into fascination then to full blown obsession. He went into how he started searching about barbershops, videos, pictures, facts and things as such. He went into the acquisition of his shaving tools, about how THAT had made him feel and so on. They didn’t stop him when he went into detail about how he would pleasure himself over videos and sound compilations, how he stopped religiously everyday by the shop to take a peek inside. He talked about his fantasies; the way he wants the barber, god, THE BARBER¸ to do things to him…He spoke of their brief encounters -if you could call them that- and whatever else came to mind about those last few months.

When he was done, he felt like a huge burden had been lifted off his shoulders. Nicolas and Scarlet were quiet for a long time, digesting the information that they had been thrown head-first into. He felt like such an idiot though. Who in their right mind would have a hair fetish? He felt like a freak for being like this.

But his friends didn’t look disturbed. They looked pensive, perhaps a bit confused, but they were not disgusted by him, not in the least. Sebastian was still Sebastian; just with a hair fetish. It was just one more inside joke they could talk about. Well, Sebastian didn’t want it to be a joke to laugh at him, but one where Scarlet would tease him like she usually does and Nicolas stays oblivious until someone tells him up front.

Scarlet then laughed lightly, shaking her head at him. "You are SO obsessed with that guy."
Her reaction pleasantly surprised the raven. ‘Thank God’, he thought in relief. He still felt a blush forming on his cheeks at her words, but it was a welcome change to the nervousness he had been experiencing just a few moments ago.

"I just…don’t know what to do" the raven admitted.

"I’m not the best at giving advice but," Nicolas said, his tone conveying his uncertainty, "you could like, talk to him or something-"

"Nicolas, look who we’re talking about here" Scarlet admonished. "This guy is probably the poster boy for social anxiety."

Sebastian’s brow twitched. "I take offence to that."

Nicolas grunted. "I know, I know, I just forgot, sorry."

They stayed in silence for a minute, before Scarlet giggled. "I bet you’d really love that barber to put his tool to another use." She winked at the innuendo, and Sebastian couldn’t help but laugh.

"Erotica-obsessed-fangirl" he teased.

"Yes but right now let’s try dealing with the barber-obsessed-fanboy."

Nicolas had to bite his cheek to stifle his laughter at seeing the murderous look on their friend’s face.

"You know," the red-head took on again. "I have a few short stories I can give you that deal with hair stuff. And I can probably find some good story sites that deal with your obsession."

"Oh yeah, I can see Sebastian reading that sappy stuff they call stories" the blonde cracked up.

Sebastian didn’t need to talk with Scarlet for her to know the gesture would be appreciated.

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