He was so busy brooding later on that he didn’t notice someone lingering right outside the small space the Overseer appointed to him. He glanced up and spotted Jo, arms wrapped around herself and looking quite uncomfortable with his presence. He couldn’t contain himself. With his signature swagger and swinging his body over the couch to head over to her, he twirled his switchblade in his hand.
“So what? You want a real date then?”
“I’d like a haircut.”
Now that threw him for a loop. She was full of surprises. Jo hadn’t cut her hair in...well, never. She’d gotten trims but had her dad do them, using scissors to snip off her split ends. Even now her hair was tamed in a loose ponytail that went all the way down her back. It was a part of her, almost. He surveyed her for a second.
“Why don’tcha just get your dad to do it?”
“You’re a hairdr...barber. It’s your job. And besides, my dad can’t do it the way I want you to.”
He swallowed. “Come on in then. Take a seat.”
She made her way to the one chair he had. He turned her toward the mirror and glanced at the same hair he’d tugged and pulled as a kid just to get her attention. Now it sat there, limp, and she was more than willing for him to touch it. Why’d it feel so wrong, then?
“What do you want?”
“A Tunnel Snake.”
He almost choked. Almost. But kept his cool, because he was the Serpent King. “You gotta be kiddin’ me. Only guys can have a Tunnel Snake. And you’re not in the gang either. No dice. It’s my signature hair cut, so tough shit.”
“Fine. Then cut it all off.”
His stomach flipped. He couldn’t have heard her right. But the seriousness in her eyes was there. “You’re not goin’ all lesbian on me, are ya?”
“If I was going lesbian, I wouldn’t be on you, DeLoria.”
She reached over and grabbed the magazine he’d been issued to use as a reference for all his clients. She put her finger on number nine, one of the styles he’d never had a chance to do on any of the females. It was just so damn...masculine. Shaved sides with nothing but a ridge that ran along her skull. It wasn’t something that someone like Jo would ask for. Short wasn’t her style at all but to get rid of everything like that...what was going on in her head?
“Whatever, don’t cry to me when you don’t like it.”
He took the scissors and went for the ponytail first. All it took was a quick snip and a heap of it fell into his hands, heavy from the added weight of its thickness. He glanced at her to make sure that she wasn’t freaking out, but...something else happened. She was smiling at herself in the mirror but was crying. He didn’t feel like it was right to say anything so he pretended he didn’t see it. She didn’t sniffle or bawl like others did but the tears just rolled down and her shoulders shook. He turned on the shaver, ridding her of the rest of it and letting the thick locks topple to the floor, strangely disappointed that she chose to get rid of over a decade of work to keep it so long.
When she was done he stepped back and he could tell that whatever he did took something from her. In a good way. She stood up straighter. Her face was more...defined. The thick eyebrows, strong jaw. Even her thick glasses didn’t seem so childish anymore and the big black frames only made all her features that much bolder. She turned to him and laughed, the sound of it sending something searing in him. She reached over and took him in her hands, tilting her head and placing a soft kiss on his open mouth.
And then the rest of the day was a blur.
He wasn’t sure how he made it to the dance but he did. And he searched through the crowd with his own thoughts and pre-party alcohol seeping into his brain, making the world hazy and colors thrive under his watch. Freddie and Susie together on the dance floor having fun. Christine whispering something into Paul’s ear – no doubt hinting he’d get laid tonight, which was just fine with him. Wally was off by himself hanging by the punch bowl to find the right time to pour his flask into it.
Then Amata and Jo came. Together. Amata was all prettied up with make-up, something he hadn’t seen before. And Jo...Jo was...
Re: FLW/Butch - Complex - [8/?]
“So what? You want a real date then?”
“I’d like a haircut.”
Now that threw him for a loop. She was full of surprises. Jo hadn’t cut her hair in...well, never. She’d gotten trims but had her dad do them, using scissors to snip off her split ends. Even now her hair was tamed in a loose ponytail that went all the way down her back. It was a part of her, almost. He surveyed her for a second.
“Why don’tcha just get your dad to do it?”
“You’re a hairdr...barber. It’s your job. And besides, my dad can’t do it the way I want you to.”
He swallowed. “Come on in then. Take a seat.”
She made her way to the one chair he had. He turned her toward the mirror and glanced at the same hair he’d tugged and pulled as a kid just to get her attention. Now it sat there, limp, and she was more than willing for him to touch it. Why’d it feel so wrong, then?
“What do you want?”
“A Tunnel Snake.”
He almost choked. Almost. But kept his cool, because he was the Serpent King. “You gotta be kiddin’ me. Only guys can have a Tunnel Snake. And you’re not in the gang either. No dice. It’s my signature hair cut, so tough shit.”
“Fine. Then cut it all off.”
His stomach flipped. He couldn’t have heard her right. But the seriousness in her eyes was there. “You’re not goin’ all lesbian on me, are ya?”
“If I was going lesbian, I wouldn’t be on you, DeLoria.”
She reached over and grabbed the magazine he’d been issued to use as a reference for all his clients. She put her finger on number nine, one of the styles he’d never had a chance to do on any of the females. It was just so damn...masculine. Shaved sides with nothing but a ridge that ran along her skull. It wasn’t something that someone like Jo would ask for. Short wasn’t her style at all but to get rid of everything like that...what was going on in her head?
“Whatever, don’t cry to me when you don’t like it.”
He took the scissors and went for the ponytail first. All it took was a quick snip and a heap of it fell into his hands, heavy from the added weight of its thickness. He glanced at her to make sure that she wasn’t freaking out, but...something else happened. She was smiling at herself in the mirror but was crying. He didn’t feel like it was right to say anything so he pretended he didn’t see it. She didn’t sniffle or bawl like others did but the tears just rolled down and her shoulders shook. He turned on the shaver, ridding her of the rest of it and letting the thick locks topple to the floor, strangely disappointed that she chose to get rid of over a decade of work to keep it so long.
When she was done he stepped back and he could tell that whatever he did took something from her. In a good way. She stood up straighter. Her face was more...defined. The thick eyebrows, strong jaw. Even her thick glasses didn’t seem so childish anymore and the big black frames only made all her features that much bolder. She turned to him and laughed, the sound of it sending something searing in him. She reached over and took him in her hands, tilting her head and placing a soft kiss on his open mouth.
And then the rest of the day was a blur.
He wasn’t sure how he made it to the dance but he did. And he searched through the crowd with his own thoughts and pre-party alcohol seeping into his brain, making the world hazy and colors thrive under his watch. Freddie and Susie together on the dance floor having fun. Christine whispering something into Paul’s ear – no doubt hinting he’d get laid tonight, which was just fine with him. Wally was off by himself hanging by the punch bowl to find the right time to pour his flask into it.
Then Amata and Jo came. Together. Amata was all prettied up with make-up, something he hadn’t seen before. And Jo...Jo was...
Flat-chested.