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Passion part 7 by Fantasy Weaver
Note
1: Some adult content ahead.
Passion
Part seven
Jasper watched his troublesome client for a minute, assessing the situation. The boy was resolutely not going to cooperate at this rate. Calming him down would be the only way to get at least a tiny amount of attention. The plan: first the barber would introduce himself, and have a chat with his client, in an attempt to quell the tears and angry shouting.
He made to place his hands on the armrests, and with a kind expression, regarded the child. "Hey, buddy, you want to tell me your name?"
The kid hiccupped and rubbed his eyes. "No!" he cried.
"No?" He feigned disappointment. "Well, my name’s Jasper"
Something the albino had found always worked when speaking to children was to never say "my name is Mr. White." It’s simple psychology really; "Mr." is a term associated with someone who is older, in control and one who demands respect. But, if he introduced himself as "Jasper", his first name, then the child would think they were on the same ground. "He’s my friend" is the logic behind this. If they thought of him as a friend, and not an imposing figure of authority, they would open up more.
"So, you’re sure you don’t want to tell me your name?" he tried again, his voice soft and beckoning.
Again, the boy sobbed a bit, but this time a result came through. "Thomas" was the spoken name.
"Thomas you say?" the barber smiled. "That’s a nice name. Do you think I can call you Tommy?"
A wet pair of eyes showed themselves through long blond bangs. With a snivel, the boy nodded. Jasper grinned.
"So Tommy," the smile on his face turned a bit secretive, "What’s your favorite color?"
The child didn’t answer for minute. This too was normal. Thomas was probably just shy, and undoubtedly stressed. The shouting had stopped, thankfully, but the boy still sobbed and sniffed. Turning his face away, the child whispered his answer to the barber’s inquiry, but he had said it so silently that Jasper didn’t even catch it.
"Can you speak a bit louder?" he asked gently.
With another hiccup, Thomas did. "Blue."
"Blue huh? I prefer red myself" as he said this, the barber reached into one of the many drawers in his station and pulled something out. "Do you like red Tommy?"
The kid shook his head.
"Oh, well that’s a shame. I guess since you don’t like red I’ll have to close my eyes while cutting your hair" Jasper teased.
There was a look of fright on the boy’s face. "No!"
"No, you don’t want me to close my eyes? Well, that’s kind of you." In his hands, he brought a pale blue cape into Tommy’s view. He stretched it out, showing him. "Your favorite color is blue right? Is this blue alright?"
Tommy eyed the cape in confusion. He had said no to getting his haircut, hadn’t he? Oh but the color of the cape was nice now that Jasper asked him. "Yeah, it’s nice…"
The white haired man -who had at first frightened him with his odd colorings- gave him a broad smile as he moved behind the chair. "Alright then, let’s see how this looks on you" he said absently as his large hands pulled the small cape around his client’s neck.
Incredibly, there was no struggling on Thomas’ part. Jasper had to laugh in his mind at this. The boy was probably too stunned to do more than wonder what was happening. The blue cape was clipped closed, and then Jasper grasped the fabric to cloak his client completely.
When this task was accomplished, Jasper returned his eyes to the mirror, glancing at the boy in the glass. Tommy was also looking at his reflection, and, amazingly, most of his crying was over. His face still held the tear tracks and reddened features, but he was much calmer now. A glance at his father in the mirror showed the man to be looking much less awkward himself.
"Now" Jasper started, giving his client a look, "Since you’re all caped up and ready to go, how about I give your hair a good trimming?"
The child looked like he was the butt of some awful joke that he didn’t understand, and honestly, it was kind of laughable, though the barber tried his best not to chuckle at the state the boy was in. In the span of five minutes, Thomas had gone from shouting and crying to not even knowing what had happened for him to be ready for his haircut.
"But…" the child started, not knowing what to say. He wasn’t really scared anymore, but wasn’t his hair fine as it was?
The barber moved to the barbering station and picked something out of a jar. When he turned, Tommy followed what he had in his hands with shining eyes.
"If you let me cut your hair a bit," Jasper held up the item, "I’ll give you this when it’s done. You like candy, don’t you?"
The boy nodded eagerly, his eyes unblinking as they stared greedily at the lollipop in the barber’s hand. Tommy was feeding right out of his palm; this was too easy. Jasper could recall many worse first clients. On those occasions, it would sometimes take fifteen minutes to half an hour trying to calm them down.
Well, he could also remember a much different first client…
His red eyes jumped to Sebastian of their own volition.
That had been quite different an experience for him.
On to the matter at hand. Thomas was calm, entranced even, and ready to get his haircut. A look at his barbering tools made him think that whether the kid liked it or not, he would have to use his clippers for that short back and sides. He would normally use scissors, but this time it was inevitable. An approach would need to be done.
Jasper reached out to the clipper he would use on the boy. "Tommy, have you ever seen these before?"
The child’s expressive eyes roved over the machine presented to him. This…thing… Whatever it was, it was a little scary looking. With a shake of his blond head, he muttered, "No."
"It’s called a clipper. Here" the barber turned the tool on, making the boy flinch. He gave the child a reassuring smile. "It may look and sound scary, but it really isn’t. It’ll tickle more than anything else."
Thomas flicked his steel blue eyes to the man before him. "It won’t hurt?"
The clipper was turned off, then Jasper ruffled his client’s hair. "Not a bit. Promise."
He watched as Tommy looked uncertain for a bit, before the boy nodded his head hesitantly.
"Let’s get started" the barber announced with a grin.
Before commencing, he retrieved a guard for the clipper and attached it. He turned the machine on and off a few times to make sure it was working properly, then placed himself behind the chair.
"Ready Tommy?" The boy swallowed and nodded. "Okay then; can you put your head down a bit?" The boy complied, and the snow-skinned barber placed his hand on the golden crown. "Sit tight. It’ll be over before you know it."
The clipper was placed at the child’s nape, and then it was pushed along his head to about half-way up. The four-inch long strands fell to the cape and to the floor silently, as the barber drove the tool through the hair again. There was half an inch of a fuzzy blonde pelt left behind.
A look in the mirror showed Thomas to be passively sitting, his eyes starring at his lap. Perfect. So long as he stayed that way, his cut should be finished in no time.
The back of his head done, Jasper moved to shear at his left side. He made short, quick passes, behind the ear, bending it so as to not nick the tender skin. The boy cringed a bit when the clipper passed beside his ear, and his head moved in the process. The barber steadied it with his large hand.
"I know it’s loud, but it’ll be over soon, okay buddy?"
The child nodded with a slightly wobbly pout.
The white haired man moved again, this time to reach the right side of the small head. The clippers made quick work of the tresses there as well. This time, Tommy didn’t try to duck away from the screaming machine as it passed near his ear. A few more strokes and the hard part was over. The clippers were turned off and placed on their hook.
"That wasn’t so bad, was it?" Jasper teased with a smile.
A shake of the kid’s head answered him. "It was okay, I guess."
"Well, I still have to do something with all this here" the barber said as he lifted the hair atop his client’s head.
After spraying the top with some water, Jasper retrieved his comb and scissors. The comb was in his left hand, while the shears were in his right. His pale hands, though occupied, went to straighten Thomas’ head so he was looking straight ahead.
"Try not to move" he demanded firmly, yet gently. If he moved his head around now, the cut might not be finished so soon.
The hand with the comb lifted golden bangs, and the scissors shut around the strands, severing them to a fourth of what they had been. He did this again, moving further back over the boy’s head. Lifting and snipping, over and over, until everything was cut to precision.
Seeing as Tommy was no more than four years old, Jasper thought it wise to not use his straight razor. Instead, the smallest of his clippers would do for cleaning his neckline.
"I’m just going to clean your neck a bit, and then you can get out of the chair" the barber promised as his lifted the smaller tool in his hand.
Thomas stayed obediently still as the albino man shaved the little hairs on his neck away. The process could not have taken more than a minute, and the whole cut itself had been a total of fifteen. Jasper was glad he didn’t have to deal with a half-hour fit and a less than happy child. He sighed.
The clipper was turned off and put back on its respective hook. The man then produced a brush. Once the cape had been undone, this was used to swipe at any hair that may have still been clinging. The blue cloth was disposed of, and then the barber’s eyes flicked to his young client. The boy was running his small hands through what was left of his golden hair.
From where he stood, Jasper saw Tommy’s father get up to inspect the cut. "Good enough?" he asked the parent.
"Yes, perfect actually. Thanks" the man said with a shake of the barber’s hand.
"It’s a pleasure, really." Jasper’s keen ears didn’t fail to notice his boyfriend trying to contain his laughter from his seat. Yes, yes, it was all very funny: "pleasure", "hair fetish", oh yes, ha, ha, ha, he was laughing so hard he might die. Not. Both knew very well this was anything but fun for him.
His concentration shifted back to Thomas, who was patiently waiting for the barber’s approval before getting out of the chair. Or was he waiting for something else?
"Well, since you let me cut your hair, I guess you deserve this, right?" Jasper retrieved the candy he had shown the boy only minutes prior.
Thomas grinned widely and was about to take the lollipop when his father cleared his throat.
"What do we say to Mr. White?"
Jasper tried to not show his disdain for the way he had just been called. Tommy looked at him with a blush and averted his gaze. "T-thank you, Jasper…"
The barber gave him a smile and handed the candy to the boy. "You’re most welcome. Don’t forget to come back in two weeks so we can tidy you up."
The father took his son in his arms. "We won’t." He dug in his pocket for the money for the cut. "Here’s what I owe you."
Once the payment had been done, and the two had gone out, Jasper turned his attention to the only other occupant of the shop.
Sebastian had been transfixed by the cut that had just happened. No, it was not the haircut itself that had him intrigued, but more Jasper’s way of going about giving it. His approach, his soft, patient and kind demeanor towards Thomas had been his focus.
It made him think about what Jasper had told him; about how his fetish had started. The image of Jasper as a small child, with his menacing father and barber, was the complete opposite of the gentle scene that had unfurled before him not but a moment ago. In a way, Sebastian believed that the root of his lover’s behavior towards children was his less than fond memory of his first time in a barbershop. The man probably wanted to make sure that his experience would not be relived by the children who entered his shop.
He didn’t want them turning out like he did.
This whole scene had been recorded in Sebastian’s mind’s eye. It was kept there, remembered in perfect detail for later use, as he would be needing it, he was certain.
"You idiot" Jasper called him out of his thoughts, and he raised a brow at him.
"What?"
Red eyes rolled. "Laughing at ‘it’s a pleasure, really’ while I’m with a client is unprofessional, you do know that?"
Sebastian scoffed. "Look who’s talking about being professional. Should I remind you about that one client nearly six years ago? Oh, wait…" he trailed off with an amused smirk.
Jasper grabbed him by the nape off his neck, pulling his black hair downwards so their eyes were starring straight into the other’s. "Maybe a remake of that one client is in order."
The absolutely scandalous smile that split Jasper’s face brought the raven back to an important matter. "Not tonight. I’m tired. Could you just give me a shampoo, if you’re really in the mood?"
Jasper’s smile faded somewhat. "Well, Alright. Up."
Sebastian sighed in relief.
Jasper would not say anything for now, but the thought kept surfacing his mind.
Was Sebastian really loosing interest in him?
XXXXX
"Thanks again. You guys are they best" Sebastian thanked Nicolas and Scarlet as they had finished filling the show room with his project pieces.
"You know we’re always there to help" the blonde of the trio piped up, sending his friend a smile.
"Right" Scarlet agreed.
Sebastian smiled in turn, before making them turn towards the gallery’s only exit. "Well, as much as I appreciate your help, now I would like to be alone so I can put everything together."
Scarlet rolled her eyes as her and the other man were ushered out. Sebastian would probably barricade himself in there if the chance were given to him. The guy was just so caught up in his work most of the time.
Once both were out of sight, and out of ear shot, the raven set his mind into his blank state. From his bag, he procured his headphones, plugged them in his phone, put them on his head, and off he went in to the deep zone of his art.
It was a shock to his senses as he listened to the first song on his playlist. The song, "Dance With The Dragon" by Dark Sarah if remembered correctly, was a song that brought to mind his first time alone in the barbershop with Jasper.
He thought about this with one part of his mind, while the other part was busy placing his materials and mapping out where everything would be placed. The lyrics of the song, ones he knew by heart, played out as the song resonated in his ears. The song was sung by two distinct voices, a man and a woman’s.
"I know why you’re here, don’t try to escape my dear…You’ve been naughty, I know, by trying to steal something of my own" The first words were sung by the Dragon -the man-, words he now associated with how Jasper had teasingly known why he had come into his chair. "I have no idea why I have been dragged down here" Dark Sarah, for her part, tried denying all he was saying, a bit like Sebastian himself had tried doing so at the time. "Don’t lie!" the Dragon then sung. "I don’t know what you’re talking about" Dark Sarah responded. More signing ensued, more words that sounded so similar to Jasper’s own words.
"Take my all, I surrender, surrender…" Yes, he had surrendered quite easily to Jasper and his charismatic presence, his deep voice and his piercing red eyes (contrary to the Dragon’s blue eyes). "Look at me and the way I ask for forgiveness, kindness and help…" Forgiveness? He felt he had needed to apologize to Jasper for his odd reactions. Kindness? It was one of the main reasons he had wanted the barber to be the one to first lead him down the dark, fragrant, enticing road of his fetish. Help? Indeed, he had needed help going down that road.
A shiver ran down Sebastian’s spine. A shiver that went straight to his groin and made his shaft jump in his pants.
It showed he was starting to get restless. An erection in public like this, caused by thoughts of his fetish, had not happened for years. His control, his composure was starting to melt away.
A look at his hands showed them to be shaking.
He breathed deeply, desperately trying to calm his nerves.
The chorus of the song, strong, powerful, like his attraction to Jasper and Jasper himself, seared through him, giving him chills as deep as his bones. He smiled through this crisis, eagerly anticipating the private showing of his master piece.
There was a mere three weeks left until his piece would be revealed, and with it, only three weeks until-
No.
He wouldn’t think about it for now.
XXXXX
As he was placing the bouquet in its vase, Sebastian turned to be greeted with Scarlet. She waved at him, giving him a crooked smile as only she could. He returned the simper and removed his headphones.
"I wasn’t expecting you" he admitted.
"I know" she responded with that knowing tone of hers.
"So why are you here?"
"I just wanted to hang with a friend. Besides, I can feel you shaking from a mile away."
"I’m not shaking-" the raven started, but stopped mind sentence, looking down at his hand. She was right: he was trembling, just like three days ago.
Her green eyes held a hint of worry. His own stared at hers with an admission. Scarlet knew him all too well. That was something that hadn’t changed from their high school days.
With a flourish, Sebastian moved over to his friend and brought a hand to his temple. It was a subtle gesture, but one Scarlet knew all too well.
The woman had been to each of the man’s art shows, and every time, when making or installing his piece, and even right before the gallery doors would open, Sebastian would get stressed. Agitated. The weeks before the big event would be hell for him. No matter how much spare time he would have left, he would always stress about whether he should have done something differently, or if he had forgotten something.
The rubbing to his temples was just a sign. The shaking of his body was one too. The stress was eating him alive and it showed.
"Have you eaten yet?" she asked in concern for his well being.
He shook his head. "No, is it… is it already that time?" he glanced at his phone’s clock.
Scarlet sighed. She was used to this. "Come have lunch with me. I think there’s a low-calorie diner close to the gallery."
He gave her a tired smile. "Let me tell the manager that I’ll be out; then we can go."
This took no more than a few minutes. The two were out of the art museum into the fresh, early April day downtown. There was no need to take Sebastian’s car; they could simply walk the distance to the restaurant.
Scarlet turned her eyes back to her raven friend. This was new: his dark hair was long, a bit unkempt, as though he had ran his hands multiple times through it. A nervous habit probably. Even the bandana he wore could not help at this point.
She was surprised. Jasper, as both a barber and a hair fetishist, should have gotten rid of it a month ago. And yet there the mop sat, a victor atop Sebastian’s head.
Was this just how devoted he was to his art?
That was why he was more stressed than usual. Yes, his nerves would fire up before any showing, but not this early on. It would be confined to the week before, not nearly three! The source of his agitation was laying limp on his skull. He KNEW Jasper was going to try to do something about it sooner or later, but he didn’t want that. Not yet at least.
He knew it was affecting Jasper more than the barber let on.
Once they were sitting at a decent table in the dinner, Scarlet wasted no time in pinning what was bothering Sebastian.
"You’re afraid he’s going to be mad" she said simply, not as an inquiry, but as a truthful statement.
And Sebastian was helpless not to put his head in his hands. He was shaking so bad the red-head thought he might break. "Yes" he whispered.
"Then tell him."
"I can’t" was the immediate answer. "I can’t. Not until-"
"Not until the private showing. Yes, I know."
Scarlet took a sip of the iced water in her glass. Sebastian wasn’t going to tell Jasper no matter what. This was painfully obvious. Yet if he kept going like this, he would have a nervous meltdown, and going to the art show would not happen.
"Sebastian," she said his name firmly, trying to convey just how serious the situation was, "look at yourself."
The raven didn’t need a mirror to know he looked like a mess. Bags under his eyes? Check. Shaking? Check. Not eating properly? Check. Hair a rat’s nest? Check. Clothes unwashed, full of white gesso and paint splatters? Check.
He was the stereotypical artist, fighting just to stay sane.
He sent Scarlet a blank, almost scared, stare. "What am I supposed to do? Huh?"
Scarlet didn’t say anything.
"Tell me!" was the outburst the raven made. His hands were grabbing at the table so hard the woman thought he might break it.
"Look, I…" she sighed, wringing her hands together. "Just tell Jasper that you want your hair to be long for the private showing, and then he can do whatever he wants with it."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Jasper knows me too well. He’ll figure out that having my hair long is part my project. I don’t want him to find out." One of his hands had gone to remove his headband, the other running along the black locks.
Scarlet pinched the bridge of her nose. "Then what can you tell him?"
"I don’t know…"
‘He doesn’t know. Great’ the red-head thought with irritation. What had they been talking about just a few weeks prior? Oh yes, about how complicated things were with Sebastian. This still held true.
What in the world would come of this, she wondered.