Looking up as Jimothy walked toward him, Rick smiled and made sure it got all the way to his eyes.
Jimothy’s eyebrows shot up—oh yeah, he’d noticed how weird Rick was being—but then he smiled back. “You’re feeling brave enough to let me have my way with you, huh?”
Rick’s smile got a little tighter. His resolve to act normally could be tested by comments like that. Jimothy didn’t mean it that way, so get over yourself. “Yep. I’m going to close my eyes and let you do your worst.” That response made him want to laugh, but he didn’t.
Jimothy struck that pose behind him where he was leaning down so he could see both of their heads side by side in the mirror. Talk about your study in contrasts. Perfect beauty, meet hairy bear. Of course, he wasn’t really a “bear.” Just sloppy.
Jimothy said, “How do you feel about Jake Gyllenhaal?”
“Uh, he was great as Mysterio?” No way he’d admit that the first thing that came to mind was Brokeback Mountain.
“Who?” He waved a hand. “Never mind. What do you think of his whole hair and beard thing?”
“Uh, I like it?”
“Well”—he planted a hand on his hip—“I think you have a lot of that same manly-sexy-but-boyish look, and you’d be great with something along the lines of his hair and beard.”
Manly-sexy? Rick stared in the mirror. He almost said, You talkin’ to me?, but stopped the words before they escaped.
Jimothy prodded, “What do you think?”
He blinked. “Wha—I mean, you’re in charge. Do what you think works.”
“Okay.” He rubbed his hands together. “Muwhahahahahah.”
Rick grinned as Jimothy flared out another plastic cape like a bullfighter, draped it around Rick, and then grabbed a comb and began pulling it through the long, thick locks. “We’ll do the hair first.”
With a big inhale, Rick closed his eyes and surrendered.
Clip. Rick jumped. Clip, clip.
Jimothy’s touch was firm and sure, no messing around. He seemed to be pinning hair up and cutting the part underneath because Rick’s neck felt cold for the first time in forever.
Clip, clip, clip. Jimothy moved his head around with such certainty and command, it made Rick relax, like he was literally in good hands.
The clipping sound went on for a while, and then the pulling started. A clump of hair got grabbed and then shaved with a scraping sound that yanked in kind of a sexy way. “Uh, what’s that?”
“I’m layering your hair. Using a razor on it. You have such great hair. It has just enough curl to make it interesting, but not so much that it’s unruly.”
The words just fell out. “Oh, I can be very unruly, believe me.” Holy shit. He clamped his lips together.
Jimothy’s hands kind of froze for a second, but then he chuckled, a cute, sexy sound. “I’m sure you can.”
“Uh, yeah, I mean under the right circumstances and—” He snorted. “Sorry, sometimes my mouth runs away with me.”
“Happens to all of us.” For a few seconds, awkward silence prevailed, and then Jimothy said, “I’m going to work on your beard for a while to get a good balance. No talking.”
“Yeah, that’s probably best.”
Jimothy full-on laughed, and the tension broke.
The beard trimming was a whole different thing than the hair. While Jimothy had run his fingers through Rick’s strands, it had seemed impersonal. Now those long, slim fingers touched his face, his neck, and even his ears. Rick swallowed hard and tried to make his deep breaths soundless.
The process seemed to go on forever, and after a few uncomfortable minutes, Rick settled into a sensual haze and wasn’t sure if he ever wanted it to end. Intriguingly, every clip got Jimothy’s hands closer to Rick’s skin. Hell, he might agree to take off the whole beard so Jimothy could finally touch him, full-on.
For a couple seconds, the touching hands disappeared, and the sound of the scissors stopped. Then a buzzing sound started. More touching and smoothing, but somehow the electric razor, if that’s what it was, felt impersonal again, and Rick took a big breath.
The buzzing stopped.
Quiet.
Jimothy inhaled noisily and then said, “Okay, you can open your eyes.”
Oh shit. After literally years of resisting this moment, he was face-to-face with his new reality.
Jimothy sounded nervous. “Remember, it’ll grow back. The wedding will be over and—”
Rick held up a hand, and Jimothy squeaked and stopped talking.
So tentatively, Rick opened his eyes. Somewhere in the eye-opening process, his mouth joined in until he was staring at himself like a tropical fish. His voice came out softly. “Holy shit.”
Jimothy gasped, “Oh no!” His hand pressed to his mouth, and he ran toward the washing room.
“Wait. What?” He couldn’t drag his gaze from his own face, but still staring in the mirror, he jumped up from the chair and his body started after Jimothy, but his eyes didn’t get the message, and his legs began running while his brain was still staring at himself. Total fail.
“Shit!” His plastic cape caught on the chair, his feet slipped out from under him, and he was crashing to the ground in a huge clatter of metal trays, scissors, and combs. “Ow!”
“Rick!” Jimothy’s shriek added to the noise as Rick lay flat on his back on a polished floor for the second time that day. At least the scissors missed me. Jimothy was inches from his face. “Oh my God, are you okay? Shall I call 9-1-1?”
“No. No 9-1-1.”
“Are you sure? My uncle fell one time, and he ended up with a subdural hematoma. This could be bad. Did you hit your head hard?” His hands waved in front of Rick’s face like clouds.
Rick grabbed one of Jimothy’s wrists. “Stop. I didn’t hit my head at all. The only thing injured is my mighty ass.”
“I’ll get some ice!” He was halfway to his feet when Rick grabbed his other hand.
“I don’t need ice.” Half of him was touched by Jimothy’s concern, and the other half just wanted to laugh at the fluttery bunny.
Jimothy chewed his lip and stared at their still clasped hands. “It’s not every day I can wreck a guy’s hair so badly he wants to commit suicide.”
“What?” Still lying on the floor, he gave Jimothy a little shake. “You nitwit. I don’t hate my hair. I think I look like a fucking movie star.”
He blinked. “You do?”
“Yes. I fell because I couldn’t stop staring at myself. I can’t believe that’s me.”
“Really?” He tried to clap his hands together, but Rick was still holding his wrists, so he just fell on top of Rick, wriggling like the bunny Rick had compared him to. “Oh my God, I’m so glad. I’m so glad.”
Rick laughed as Jimothy attacked him.
“You rat, I thought you hated it, and—”
Jimothy managed to get a hand on Rick’s ribs, and Rick writhed to get away. “No, no. No fair. I can’t tell you I love it because the guy in the mirror looks like some other dude, but I don’t hate it.”
Jimothy quit wiggling and frowned down into Rick’s face. “Wait. Isn’t that just as bad as hating it?”