I forgot how much fun I had writing Gilbert and Antonio! One of my favorite parts of TYD, hands down. Anyway, since they're here there's gonna be a lot of swearing which I doubt bothers many of you but just FYI.

Anyway, this is just a short fun-but-still-angsty one so I can fool myself into thinking I might catch up and actually finish these in June. lol.

"Dude, are you sure you want to do this?"

Gilbert's normally casual drawl is hesitant and perhaps slightly shocked. Antonio is perched on the back of the toilet, smoking out the open bathroom window.

"He already told you, Gil. Grow a pair, man."

"Yes," Alfred says. His voice is firm, but he won't meet his friend's eyes, even in the mirror. "I'm sure."

"Okay…"

With a flick of the thumb, the electric razor in Gilbert's hand buzzes to life.

"Last chance."

"Just fucking do it, Gil!"

The cold blade against the nape of Al's neck elicits a small hiss as he sucks air through his teeth. Then the hair starts falling.

It's been too long since he had a haircut. Since Arthur sat him down in the kitchen with a towel around his neck and snipped cautiously at the overgrown thatch on his head.

"I really should do this more often," he would say as he swept up the fallen locks. "It's nice to actually see your eyes."

Except the last time Arthur cut his hair was in stony silence, and Al stormed off half-trimmed after losing patience with his guardian's painstaking cuts.

Stop romanticizing, Al thinks forcefully. Remember why you left—

"Ouch!"

"I'm not apologizing for that; you moved your head!" Gil's voice gets weirdly high-pitched when he's indignant. "Didn't he move his head, Tony?"

Antonio doesn't turn away from staring out the window. "Yeah, Al, what the fuck?"

Alfred makes a face and flips him off, then freezes mid-gesture at the sight of his reflection.

His head looks small. God, with his glasses back on he's gonna look like such a dweeb.

"What?" Gil's drawl is back. "You hate it? Not my problem. That'll be a pack."

Al rolls his eyes and hands his friend a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

"You know I've heard it's customary to tip your hairdresser too," Gil starts.

"Fuck off, both of you, I gotta piss."

"Ah!" Gil exclaims in mock offense, "You see the thanks I get, Tony?"

"Yeah, it's cuz you're a dick," the other boy replies pleasantly.

"Oh, that's right, I forgot."

Al slams the bathroom door.

He examines his reflection once more. His head is pale and prickly and to be totally honest, he hates it.

Well. It'll grow back. And when it does at least it'll be one thing Arthur never touched.