Hair!
Hi all.
Okay so this is just a little drabble about domestic life with Nick and Greg for you to enjoy.
It is slash in as much as they are described as being in a long-term relationship but nothing graphic is mentioned. Still if you don't like slash, don't read it.
In fact this may be my first venture into the slash kingdom, I was anti-slash for ages but then I guess I read something (can't remember) and my views altered so that now I have a few ideas lined up.
This will also be my first story under 1000 words (if memory serves), I've been trying to achieve that with stories for a while now.
The song is apparently the opening from the musical Hair (which I haven't seen) which seemed rather apt for the plot. See another first, I always said I'd never write a song fic because they irritate me, time to eat my words I guess.
Oh, apologies to any Norwegian readers, I used Babylon to get the translation, I have no idea if it's correct – it should say, roughly, 'as god intended,' feel free to berate me or teach me or advise me about its accuracy. I attempted to learn Norwegian but only got as far as hello and excuse me which are not overly useful phrases for this story.
As always I don't own the characters.
Please review, even if it is just constructive critism, I have a really big 'novel' in mind so want to test the water with a few little ficlets first.
Thanks for reading.
Nick Stokes entered the small bathroom adjacent to the bedroom he shared with his long-term partner Greg Sanders and settled himself on the closed toilet seat watching with a mixture of amusement and curiosity as the young man danced around the space, massaging some sort of blue cream into his scalp and singing along to the unusual track.
She asks me why, I'm just a hairy guy.
I'm hairy noon and night, hair that's a fright.
I'm hairy high and low, don't ask me why, don't know.
It's not for lack of bread, like the Grateful Dead.
Darlin'
Give me a head with hair, long beautiful hair.
Shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen, waxen.
Give me down to their hair, shoulder length or longer
Here baby, there, momma, ev'rywhere, daddy, daddy.
hair, hair, hair, hair, hair
Hair, hair, hair. Flow it, show it, long as God can grow it, my hair.
"What-up lover" he asked smiling as Greg paused his performance and rinsed the excess goo from his gloved hands.
"Hey Noodle" Greg smiled back, settling on the older man's lap and planting a chaste kiss on his lips.
Nick pointed to his boyfriends slicked up hair "Didn't you just bleach your hair a couple of weeks ago?" he asked. Seeing Greg with strange liquids on his head was nothing new, having lived with the bottle blonde for the last 7 years, the Texan was more than familiar with dyes, bleaches, rescue solutions, and gels.
"This isn't bleach and I last bleached my hair 2 months ago, thanks for noticing" Greg pouted slightly but his tone was playful.
Nick laughed "Sorry babe but my interest lies lower down" he carefully squeezed as much of the younger man's rear as he could get hold of causing a wriggle. "So what colour did you go for then? Green? Red? Maybe a nice purple?" The Texan loved to tease his partner about his hair choices.
"When have you ever seen me with green, red or purple hair?" Greg asked amused by his lover's imagination.
"Well there was that photo of you….." Nick smiled
"I was 16!" Greg protested
"Bet your mom loved that look" Nick smiled again. He adored his unofficial mother-in-law, almost as much as his own mother, but she was pretty strict with her slightly wild offspring and she did not mince her words when she didn't approve of something.
"Yeah she wasn't too happy about that. Then again she doesn't like me dying my hair blonde either - En skal se ut som gud ment." Greg pouted again but quickly brightened as a malicious thought came to mind.
Nick saw the evil glint too late to react, grimacing as Greg wiped some of the blue good from his hair and carefully smeared it down the edges of his hairline, massaging firmly. "What are you doing?" he asked, trying to remove the cream dye and finding his arms pinned beneath Greg's now gloveless and dyeless fingers.
"Just touching up the grey bits love, you know while I've got the dye handy" Greg winked; he loved to tease Nick about getting older. With that he climbed off of the Texans lap and pressed play on his MP3 player, leaning over the sink to wash the remaining dye from his hair and resuming his earlier song while Nick sat there, a slight frown on his face and a sulky inner-voice proclaiming 'I am not going grey!'
Let it fly in the breeze and get caught in the trees, give a home to the fleas in my hair.
A home for fleas (yeah) a hive for bees (yeah),
a nest for birds, there ain't no words for the beauty, the splendour, the wonder of my:
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair
Hair, hair, hair
Flow it, show it, long as God can grow it, my hair
I want long, straight, curly, fuzzy, shaggy, shaggy, ratty, matty,
oily, greasy, fleecy, shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen, waxen,
knotted, polka dotted, twisted, beaded, braided,
powered, flowered and confettied, bangled, tangled, spangled and spaghettied.
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair
Hair, hair, hair. Flow it, show it,
long as God can grow it, my hair
They'll be ga-ga at the go-go when they see me in my toga,
my toga meade of blond, brilliantined, biblical hair.
My hair like Jesus wore it, Hallelujah I adore it, Hallelujah Mary loved her son, why don't my mother love me?
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair
Hair, hair, hair
Flow it, show it
long as God can grow it, my hair
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair
Hair, hair, hair
Flow it, show it
long as God can grow it, my hair