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Gavin Toys with a Longhair Enthusiast by Whittaker2
Miles rolled over in bed to see Gavin still standing in front of their dressing mirror, fiddling with the ends of his golden hair, comb long since abandoned. He’d stepped out of the shower an hour ago. It was unlike him to preen so heavily, but there he was, trailing his fingers through the thick blond hair that caressed his thighs. He was moving his parting from side to side. He was gathering up the entire mass and then letting it go, trailing it over his outstretched forearm before it fell against his legs again. His brow was furrowed and his mouth pinched in contemplation.
Miles sat up on his elbows "Psst! Hey you", he stage-whispered. You could see that Gavin was caught up in a bit of a trance, because when he realized Miles was talking he startled a bit, a blush spreading instantly across his cheeks.
"I love you" Miles stage-whispered again. He grinned cheekily, like this was some sort of dark secret instead of words of affirmation that they had been sharing for years now.
Gavin smiled and lowered his eyes to the floor.
"Is there something on your mind?"
"Nah, not really", Gavin reassured. Miles gave him a look of concerned uncertainty. "Sorry, yeah… my mind’s wandering, but it’s not negative or anything."
Miles nodded, keeping his expression empathetic and inviting. It looked like Gavin had something that he might want to say and Miles didn’t want to force it out of him or risk interrupting him.
"It’s silly, I’m just thinking about cutting my hair is all."
Now it was Miles’ turn to blush. His heart rate skyrocketed instantly, the blood flushing his skin made it feel ten degrees hotter in their bedroom. He was at war with himself. The angel on his right shoulder saying ‘Stop freaking out, Gav’s body belongs to him and him alone, he can do whatever he wants with it’. The devil on his left shoulder was trying to devise any plan to nip Gav's thoughts of hair cutting in the bud. Miles chose his next words with excruciating diplomacy.
"Okay", he said (the pitch of his voice was way too high and strained) "Tell me about your thoughts?"
Gavin burst out laughing. "Oh man, you are dying inside and not even hiding it a little bit". He sauntered over to their bed and leaned over where Miles was propped up on his elbows and kissed him affectionately on the temple. His hair tumbled around them like a silk waterfall and it took everything in Miles’ power not to wrap his fists around it and grunt ‘Mine. No cutty.’ Like some sort of deranged caveman.
Instead he threw his palms over his face in a futile attempt to hide how beet red he was.
"I’m so sorry", he moaned, embarrassed.
"Don’t be! It’s okay to like my hair the way it is. But I also know that you have a haircut fetish." Gavin crawled into bed beside him. Once he was laying on his side facing Miles, he pulled his hair out from where it had gotten trapped underneath him and twisted it into a single loose rope that he draped over one shoulder. It lay in between them, thick and gleaming. Miles was once again grappling with his self-control; desperately trying to prevent his gaze from flicking to that cord of hair every five seconds.
"I know you know that I have a haircut fetish" he intoned "But I also have a long hair fetish. And I don’t know why, but while the haircut fetish wins on paper, or even in videos, in person the long hair fetish feels way stronger. It’s like.. long hair lasts, but the act of a haircut is so fleeting and then suddenly it’s gone. In stories or videos it’s like ‘whatever’, cause you can just move onto the next one, or even watch it again. But in person you can’t just magic the hair back and have another go."
"Do you think you’d be less attracted to me if I cut my hair?"
"Oh god no! No, not at all, I’m sorry for making you even think about that!"
Gavin blushed. "It’s silly, just a tiny insecurity cause I know how much you like it."
"I’m sorry. It sounds like I’ve made you feel like I care more about your hair than you. I want you to know that the most important thing to me is that you feel free and safe in your self-expression, no matter what that is.
"--I’d like to start over", Miles said. "And maybe I can manage to sound less like I just got kicked in the nuts this time. So, you’ve been thinking about cutting your hair… tell me about your thoughts?"
Gavin smiled, big and warm. "I love you", he said. "And, yeah, I guess that I have… It’s been weighing on me. Literally, I guess you could say. It’s felt too long lately. I don’t enjoy wearing it down anymore, and doing anything more complicated than a bun or plain three-strand braid is a pain in the ass when my arms aren’t even long enough to reach the ends…"
He trailed off but Miles didn’t want to speak. He didn’t want to unintentionally pressure Gavin into doing something other than exactly what he wanted.
"I think I’d like to do a decent sized chop. I’d like to donate about a foot of it, maybe even 18 inches?"
Miles was still freaking out. He couldn’t help it, his heart was racing thinking about seeing Gav sitting under a cape, his head bowed, silver scissors gleaming, threaded into the hair at the nape of his neck. Which is of course, nowhere near where the scissors would be if Gav was talking about cutting off 18 inches. His hair was so long that it would probably still be waist length after a chop like that. Miles tried to stifle the relieved exhale that wanted to burst from his lips at that realization. He pulled himself together.
"I think that sounds like a really nice idea Gav." He smiled and leaned in for a tender kiss.
"You overdramatic bastard" Gav joked in sudden realisation. "You thought I wanted to cut it all off, didn’t you!?"
Miles blushed again, burying his face in his pillow. "Nmph" he mumbled.
"Liar", Gavin laughed.
When Miles revealed his face Gavin was gazing at him, full of adoration.
"So next question! Do you want to do it for me?"
Miles almost fell out of bed. His eyes were so wide they were going to fall out of their sockets. His heart was trying to both fall into his stomach and jump out of his throat. The whole back of his head and down his spine was tingling. He managed little more than a desperate squeak.
It felt like an eternity of silence passed.
"Oy, Mi, earth to Miles!" Gavin sing-songed, grinning like the sadistic tease that he was. "Uh oh, looks like I broke him", he rolled his eyes. "Guess I’ll just have to cut it myself. Hope it doesn’t come out uneven. Then I’ll have to keep cutting it shorter. And shorter. And shorter. And—"
"Okay, God, please stop! I—, f**k. I’m into it, it’s hot okay?"
Gavin clapped his hands together like a gleeful child. "So is that a yes?"
"Yes it’s a yes. But what if I mess it up?"
"Then I guess you’ll have to keep cutting it shorter. And shorter. And shor—rmphh" Miles shoved a pillow in his face.
"I’m serious, you’re killing me here."
"Mi, let’s be real. I’ve known you since middle school. I’ve known you had a haircut fetish since before I even knew you were bi. I know that you’ve watched a gajillion freaking hours of haircut training videos and that you know exactly how to do this correctly."
Miles was back to blushing again.
"But most importantly", Gavin continued, "I trust you completely."
"Uughhh", Miles groaned "Yeah yeah, you’re a sap. I love you"
"I love you too", he gave Miles a quick peck before jumping out of bed. "Let’s do this!!"
"Now?!?!" Miles suddenly felt queasy again.
"Yes now! I’m feeling bold and spontaneous and my hair is freshly washed and dried which it needs to be for a donation anyways!!" Whether it was nervous energy he was suddenly filled with, he couldn’t tell. But Gavin suddenly had the urge to run a circle around the block. He settled for running to the kitchen for a chair and some shears. His hair unbound and trailing behind him.
Miles rolled out of bed and sat on the edge of it, until Gavin came back brandishing their clunky red kitchen scissors and he rushed to pull them from his grasp.
"I am NOT touching your hair with these", he scolded. He turned to his bedside table, where concealed at the very back of the knick-knacks drawer was a pair of proper hair scissors in a little leather pouch. He found a measuring tape in there while he was at it.
"Rule #1, proper scissors only", he admonished.
Gavin plunked himself down in the chair that he’d set in front of their floor-length dressing mirror. Gathering his hair up and twisting it into a spiral over one shoulder again.
"I apologize for my ignorance Mr. Barber, sir." Gavin took the end of his twist and flicked it behind his back. It fanned open in a beautiful arc, brushing Miles’ face and chest before settling down to almost graze their carpet after a couple of swishes from side to side.
"You cheeky bastard" Miles chuckled, then he put on a fake low voice. "What’ll it be for you today, sir?
"One high-n-tight please!" Gavin announced, not an ounce of sarcasm in his voice or expression.
Miles’ face instantly transformed into one of deadpan horror. Gavin began howling with laughter as Miles turned around, walked to their bed and face planted into it. Faint deranged shrieking could be heard. He stood back up and returned like it had never happened.
"Rule #2, no tormenting the barber!"
Gavin was still wheezing with laughter, trying to collect himself.
"I’m sorry, it’s just too easy!"
"What’ll it be today?" Miles asked in his regular voice. "Sorry, I know we’ve already talked about it, I just want another confirmation. Ongoing consent and all that good stuff, right?"
"Yeah, of course!" Gavin turned around and put Miles’ hands in his own. "I’d like to donate 18 inches today Mr. Barber, sir."
"Well that’s an awful nice gesture, let’s take a look at what we’re working with." Miles picked up Gavin’s comb and began running it through the already pristinely tended tresses. He was putting on his silly fake barber voice again. He whistled "Well sir, I do say you’ve got the most hair that I’ve ever seen on a man, how long you been growin’ this for?"
"Oh I dunno Mr. Barber, feels like I’ve always had long hair. Raised by parents who made certain that I knew I deserved control over my own body. Made for some terrible fashion choices and hair styles to look back on, but I’m grateful for them."
"They sound like great people."
Miles leans in to hug Gavin from behind. He presses a gentle kiss to the side of his neck. He loved Gav’s parents as well.
He gathers Gavin’s beautiful curtain of hair into a low ponytail, and slides the hair-tie down to where he guesses 18 inches will be. He pulls out the measuring tape and finds that he was a little off (22 inches) so he slides it down a bit further. The hair-tie rests right at the lowest part of his back. He picks up the hair carefully and moves it over Gavin’s shoulder.
"This is how much it’ll be to cut off 18 inches. You okay with that?"
"Wait, seriously, that’s 18 inches?!"
"Yeah, when it’s trimmed up it’ll fall right about here.." he says as he presses his hand into Gavin’s lower back. "Too much? We can always do 12."
"No. Actually. I thought it would be shorter. And I’m not messing with you this time I promise."
Miles swallows thickly. He can’t believe he’s about to ask this question. "Would you like it to be shorter?"
"Yeah actually, if that’s okay"
Miles sighs forcefully. "Yes it’s okay of course it’s okay. Your body is your temple and it may be decorated however you please." He tries to sound like a valiant knight when he says that. He ends up sounding like Thor. "How short would you like it?"
"Can we do just long enough to cover my chest, so like, last couple of ribs maybe?"
"Your wish is my command. And the dames call that "bra-strap length" just so you know."
Miles hums in agreement, and pulls the ponytail holder out of his partner’s hair. He runs the comb through it a few more times, making sure each lock hangs evenly with its neighbour. Then, careful not to dislodge the perfection, he secures the ponytail holder again and pulls it down to mid-back. The 18 inch tail that he had isolated looked big, but this one looks massive! He pulls out the measuring tape and balks at the number.
"Gav, this is 35 inches of hair!" he squawks.
"Can you press your hand where it would be after you cut it, so I can feel?"
"Yeah, right here", he presses in.
"Hmm, okay. Can you give me two more inches than that?"
"You want me to cut 37 inches!!!!"
"No! No! Other way around, cut 33, leave two more attached to my head."
"Oh, whew, yeah okay", Miles carefully slides the holder down two more inches and presses his hand into Gavin’s back again. "Here?"
"Yeah, I’m happy with that."
"Okay, well, time for the first cut…."
"All this and not even one cut yet." Gavin chuckles.
"So we’ll call it a slow burn fic; sue me, maybe I’m into that." Miles voice is dripping with well intentioned sarcasm. He stands, scissors poised. "Are you ready?"
Gavin grabs for the armrests of the chair and squeezes tight. He takes a deep inhale, but it’s a little shaky.
"Gav you’re scaring me."
"So sue us both, I’m a little nervous."
"We can go to a professional—"
"No, not about you, silly. I’m just very used to the way my hair feels falling against my body. It’s gonna be weird not having that."
Miles waits in silence. Gavin looks at himself in the mirror for a few more breaths. He tilts his head from side to side, committing to memory the weight of this ponytail. It’s the longest his hair has ever been. He reaches around to feel where the tie falls again. Miles presses his hand helpfully at the spot.
"Want me to move it down another couple inches?"
"Nah, I want you to cut now."
"Okay." Miles goes for one last peck on the cheek, grabs the ponytail and begins carefully cutting above the tie. He doesn’t hesitate. Knows that if he did it would just seem like he’s trying to talk Gavin out of it.
Slicing through the ponytail is a mammoth endeavour. A 4-inch diameter monstrosity. If Miles were to serve a condemnation like Sisyphus, it would be hacking at this ponytail for all eternity, but never making any progress. Except Gavin would probably be crying and begging him to stop, just to make it worse.
It takes three minutes. It takes a lifetime. When the tail finally comes free, and Gavin’s new shorter hair fans out across his shoulder blades, and Miles finally has to hold the full weight of the ponytail, he’s so startled that he drops the scissors. He’s momentarily horrified with himself for reaping the end of something so beautiful. It’s like a unicorn’s tail.
"I never realized how heavy it was until now." Miles remarks, dazed.
"Honestly, apparently neither did I. I feel dizzy my head’s so light."
Miles chuckles but it’s bittersweet. He steps around Gavin to hand him the severed ponytail. He drapes it across both of his hands like an offering. Gavin grips down on it tightly, stares at it in amazement. A couple tears fall, though he doesn’t mean for them to do that.
"Oh babe, s**t, I’m so sorry"
"No, no, it’s not sadness, I’m just a little overwhelmed. I think I need to get this in a bag, can we put it in a bag?"
"Yes, one jumbo Ziploc coming up!" Miles dashes to the kitchen and back in record time, presenting the opened Ziploc like it’s a ring and he’s proposing. They begin to feed the tail in…
"Oh my god. It doesn’t fit."
They dissolve in a fit of giggles, Gavin gives up on staying in his chair, they both lie on the bedroom floor, defeated.
"I’m exhausted" Gavin says.
"Yeah. Emotions are hard."
"Valid. Do you want to call it a night and I can even you up tomorrow?"
"I completely forgot about the whole evening up part honestly."
"Nah, now please." Gavin pulls himself back up onto his feet and in to the chair. He finally looks at himself in the mirror. It’s not so different, he supposes. He still has more hair than the average human. He pulls what’s left of his in front of his shoulders. It still covers his chest as requested. It’s weird though, to feel those blunt ends fall so heavily, and stop so suddenly at his ribcage, when formerly they tapered to a less prodigious thickness against his thighs. He chuckles to himself. His hair had been thigh length. ‘That’s ridiculous’, he thinks.
Miles stirs him from his reverie with a kiss and a spray of water to the face.
"Sit up straight! Eyes forward soldier!" He barks.
"Oh lord, now I’m worried I’m actually gonna get that high-n-tight after all."
"I wouldn’t dare." Miles moves behind Gav, fluffing his much lighter hair as he tries to dampen the entire thickness.
"Is that our plant mister?" Gavin asks.
"Of course it’s our plant mister. Only the best for our plants, only the best for you."
"Gee thanks." Gavin rolls his eyes.
"Babe, your hair is so thick I’m gonna have to trim it in like 60 sections. This is absurd."
"Don’t complain, you love it," Gavin smirks.
"Touché." Miles begins organizing the different sections of Gavin’s hair, pinning most of them to his head. He’s loving every second of this contact. He doesn’t know why he was so flustered about Gavin wanting to cut 18 inches of his hair, even when he wanted to cut it shorter. It’s still so long, it flows so beautifully. Miles could die in a mound of it (focus Miles).
He begins trimming the bottom section. It’s nothing fancy, just evening out all the jagged bits from the original pony-massacre. Once he starts working on sections higher up on Gav’s head he begins thinning the ends out a bit, layering slightly so they hopefully don’t end up so aggressively blunt. He declares himself done after an hour. An hour was way more time than necessary but why rush, right?
"All done", he says.
"Looks real good, Mi", Gavin smiles warmly at him through the mirror. "Can I tell you a secret?" he asks.
"Of course Gav, anything."
"When I asked you to leave me an extra couple inches… It wasn’t cause I didn’t want to lose the length."
There’s a pause as Miles stares at him in puzzlement.
"It’s cause, when I was thinking about cutting my hair, I had kinda decided something.
"I sorta, maybe, definitely decided that I wanted to cut it to my shoulders. But it was clear that you weren’t ready for that. So I figured, make one donation now, and make sure that I have enough hair leftover for a second donation later. So what do you say, do you think you’ll be in the mood to cut my hair again tomorrow?"
Miles smacks him up the back of the head and Gavin bursts into a peal of laughter. Miles gets up, his expression utterly blank, and shuffles to the kitchen. He returns to the bedroom with a single tumbler of whiskey filled way too full. He downs the whole thing in three gulps.
"Give me a week", he deadpans. "Give me one goddamned week to get used to this and then I’ll—" he nearly chokes on his own tongue. "—then I’ll cut your hair to your shoulders."
Gavin is giggling like a child. "I’m joking!" he barely manages to get out between gasps.
"I don’t think you are."