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“Have you ever done this before?” Gerry asked quizzically, watching Michael through his reflection in the mirror as he stood behind him, examining the flashes of blond that showed around Gerry’s scalp, contrasting sharply with the black that covered the rest of his head.
“Well, no, not exactly,” Michael said, not meeting Gerry’s gaze as he shifted his hair around, looking instead at the array of clips, brushes, and other tools he’d organized neatly on the small amount of counter space available in Gerry’s tiny bathroom. “But, I have watched several tutorial videos, and read a few guides. Plus, my mum used to take me to the salon with her, so I know how this is supposed to look.”
Gerry snorted out a quiet laugh as Michael grabbed the bowl of dye and got started. The amount of research didn’t surprise Gerry in the slightest – it was rare that Michael did anything without carefully considering all of his options beforehand. What had come as a surprise was the eagerness at which he’d volunteered to help when Gerard mentioned needing to color his roots.
It had been a offhanded comment after a late night in the Archives. Gerry had been griping about all the work they still had left to do, and had tacked dyeing his roots onto the end of the list. He hadn’t been actually planning on doing it yet – tracking down the Leitners was more important – but Michael’s offer of assistance had been so sincere, he couldn’t bring himself to say no.
“I hope we have enough dye,” Michael fretted, interrupting Gerard’s train of thought before it could get too far down the tracks, clipping a few newly-blackened sections of hair out of the way.
“Come on, I didn’t do that bad of a job,” Gerry said, ignoring the goosebumps that the slight physical contact raised along his scalp.
“No, no, I didn’t mean it looks bad!” Michel backtracked, “You just have a lot of hair!” Michael’s eyes worriedly met Gerard’s in the mirror, softening after a moment as he returned Gerry’s grin.
Gerry considered himself in the mirror again as Michael continued working, humming quietly. Even if it hadn’t been what Michael had said or meant, Gerry’s joke had certainly been correct. His dye job was….patchy, in some spots, to put it nicely.
…
Ok, a lot of spots, maybe. He glowered at the mirror, as though it was the problem, here.
It wasn’t his fault, not really – he was just busy. He always told himself he’d fix it the next time – right before he’d forget for months on end. It always happened the same way - eventually, he’d be tired enough of seeing an entire inch of roots showing to ignore his exhaustion long enough to fix them, promptly forgetting to fix the rest of it in the process.
He couldn’t help the smile that crept back onto his face as his gaze shifted back to Michael, focused intently on the dye brush in his gloved hands, brow furrowed as his lips twisted into the slightest of frowns. Loathe though he might be to admit it, Gerry was happy for the help. And, if he was being completely honest with himself, the attention was….really nice.
“What?” Michael asked, a shy smile twisting up the corners of his mouth as he caught Gerard staring at him through his bathroom’s small mirror.
Gerry paused for the briefest of moments, considering what to say. “Thank you,” was what he finally settled on. He hoped it was enough.