Jay’s Accident by Nathan05

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It was one of those sticky summer days where time felt nonexistent. Me and Jay were nineteen, two young men free from college classes on the random Wednesday afternoon. We had been laying together on the hammock in my backyard. Conversation flowed naturally… from books, to life, to movies. I was very content to be there with my boyfriend on that beautiful day.

After a while, I gently began brushing my fingers through his soft brown hair. Although I found his hair attractive (as I did the rest of him,) I’d always thought he would look much better with a buzzcut like mine.

"Hey, Jay?" I said, gripping my hand into his locs. "Have you been thinking of a haircut?"

He turned his head slightly against my chest, cheek squished warm into my collarbone. "Mm, not really," he mumbled. "Why?"

I hesitated, fingers still twining through the thick coils. "I just… think you’d look good with it shaved. Like, really good. I could do it for you."

Jay laughed, lazy and slow, the sound vibrating through both of us. "You trying to recruit me to your buzzcut cult or something?"

"Maybe," I said, half-grinning. "But seriously. It’s hot out, and your hair’s so thick. Just imagine it. All smooth. You’d look sharp. Clean."

He didn’t answer right away, but I felt the shift in him—his shoulders rising just slightly, his fingers toying with the frayed edge of the hammock netting. When he finally sat up, he glanced at me with a raised brow.

"You really want to shave my head?" he asked.

"I do," I said, voice soft. "Only if you want me to."

Jay studied me for a moment—my buzzcut, my sunburnt nose, the way I was watching him like I meant every word. Then he nodded, slow and deliberate. "Okay. But if I hate it, I’m blaming you for the rest of the summer."

"You can wear a hat," I teased, already swinging my legs off the hammock. "Come on. Bathroom."

Inside, the air conditioning blasted cold against our damp skin. Jay sat on the closed toilet lid while I plugged in the clippers, the steady hum filling the small space. He looked nervous but calm, which is very Jay. Trusting, despite himself.

I combed out his locs first, slow and careful. He closed his eyes, his breath steady. I took my time—untangling, sectioning, breathing in the scent of coconut oil and summer sweat. Then I held up the clippers and met his gaze in the mirror.

"You ready?"

He nodded once. "Yeah. Do it."

The first pass was the most intense—long strands falling away to reveal the curve of his skull. I watched his face the whole time. His lips parted slightly and he scrunched his eyes. I couldn’t gauge how he was feeling—but then he began squirming.

"Stay still," I said quietly but firmly.

"I’m… trying," he huffed.

I kept a heavy hand on the side of his head while continuing to shave him. Hair fell in soft waves to the floor. I worked slowly, reverently, moving around him like I was sculpting marble. Every new inch revealed felt like a secret. His cheekbones stood out more. His jawline sharpened. He looked so beautiful it hurt a little.

As I began to finish, I noticed his legs quivering ever so slightly. When I dusted the stray clippings from his neck, he screwed his eyes shut before murmuring. "I think I…"

Confused, I looked over him to see if anything was wrong. To my surprise, I noticed he had an obvious tent in his shorts, with a slight wet spot. I chuckled lowly as Jay’s face went dark with embarassment.

"I didn’t mean to- I don’t know why that happened," he whined.

"Aw, don’t be embarrassed, love," I smiled. "The clippers feel good, don’t they?"

He nodded bashfully before looking up at me with his

"It’s okay, Jay. I think you look beautiful."

I leaned down, kissed the top of his freshly shorn head. It felt warm against my lips, like sun-warmed stone. He closed his eyes again, tilting his face up toward mine.

"Thanks," he murmured.

"Of course. Let’s get you out of those shorts, eh?"

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