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Connor hadn’t meant to grow his hair out.
It’s a combination of general laziness and a lack of time that drives him to neglect this part of self-care, until he looks in the mirror one day after a shower and turns to frown at the back of his head over his shoulder. It isn’t long per se, he’s definitely had it longer (he thinks back to a particularly rebellious phase in high school when he thought it was hilarious that Cynthia frowned whenever she saw his hair), but it almost reaches his shoulders and puffs out around the edges. It’s a lot.
He doesn’t say anything to Evan about it. It slips his mind until later that night, when he’s washing dishes, as Evan slips behind him, pressed front to back, and gently gets his fingers in Connor’s hair, massaging his scalp. Connor sighs gently, drops his head back against Evan’s shoulder, and closes his eyes as Evan tangles his fingers in Connor’s hair.
“It’s so long now,” Evan marvels, his voice breaking the comfortable silence they’ve fallen into.
“Hm?” Connor asks. He opens his eyes, but Evan’s got his gaze stuck on where his fingers are playing with Connor’s hair. “Oh, I know, right?” He asks. “I have to get it cut.”
“No!” Evan says, a bit too quickly. Connor lifts his head from Evan’s shoulder and turns to face him, one eyebrow raised. Evan blushes severely. “I mean,” he falters, “you don’t have to. If you don’t want to.”
Connor’s lips twitch into the beginning of a smirk. “Oh?” he asks, and smiles wider when Evan squirms.
“I just-I mean-“ Evan grabs a towel from where it’s hanging off the edge of the sink and uses it to smack Connor's side, much to Connor’s delight. “Shut up,” Evan mutters as Connor laughs at him. “I don’t like you, and I’m divorcing you tomorrow.”
“I’m taking the dog with me,” Connor calls after Evan as he walks away, snatching the towel from his hands. “Georgie loooves playing with my hair.”
Evan flips Connor off over his shoulder, which just makes Connor laugh harder.
From then on, Connor makes it his personal mission to torture Evan. He puts less product in it when they’re going out, blow dries it after a shower instead of scrunching it dry with a towel, “absently” plays with it when they’re talking to their friends. All of it successfully makes Evan sigh, and blush, and squirm.
Evan’s eyes track Connor’s hand once again as he pushes his hair from his face, and Jared groans. “Dude,” Jared says, which snaps Evan’s attention to him. “Don’t you live with the guy? How closely do you have to watch him?”
Evan flushes a deep red. “Sorry,” he mutters, reaching out to sip his Gatorade. Evan is the only person Connor’s ever met who brings his own drink to a coffee shop.
Connor flicks his gaze from Evan to Jared, and smiles when he and Jared lock eyes. “He’s obsessed with my hair,” Connor informs Jared.
“Connor!” Evan reproaches as Jared laughs.
“Oh, dude, I know,” Jared answers.
“Jared!” Evan hisses.
Jared throws his hands up in defense. “What?” he asks. “It’s not like you’re very subtle about it.” He turns to smile conspiratorially at Connor. He and Jared don’t have much in common aside from being Evan’s people, but they do share a common love of bullying Evan. “You should see our Instagram conversation history.”
“Oh really?” Connor asks. He leans forward so he can rest his chin on his hand as he smiles over at Evan. “Tell me more,” he directs towards Jared.
“If you tell him more, I will sneak into your house and erase your entire Skyrim save file, I swear to God, Jared.” Evan threatens quickly.
Jared laughs. “Man, you don’t know how to do that.”
Evan raises an eyebrow. “Wanna bet?”
Evan and Jared have a staring match, and then Jared turns to Connor. “Sorry dude, guess you’ll have to torture it out of your husband yourself.”
This goes on for a few more weeks, until his hair is past the point of manageable. That night, laying in bed, Evan’s fingers running gently through Connor’s hair, Connor says, “I think I have to cut it.”
“Nooo,” Evan protests.
“It’s like a bird’s nest,” Connor answers.
He looks up over his shoulder at Evan laying above him, frowning down at his hair. “Maybe a trim,” Evan suggests. He takes a few strands and gently moves his fingers down until he’s got about an inch of the end. “There.”
“Why are you so obsessed with my hair, anyway?” Connor asks.
Evan flushes like he does every time he’s confronted with something he likes. “I dunno,” he mutters. “Just think you’re pretty.”
Now it’s Connor’s turn to blush. “You’re gay,” he accuses.
“That’s biphobic,” Evan answers.
Connor sits up, grabs Evan by his wrists, and attempts to pin him to the bed. Evan fights back, gets his knees on Connor’s thighs and uses gravity to flip them over, pinning Connor to the bed with his knees on either side of Connor’s legs and Connor’s hands above his head. “1 inch,” Evan argues.
“3,” Connor answers.
Evan bites his lip like he’s considering it. “2 is as high as I’m willing to concede.”
Connor smiles up at him. “2 and you have to clean up Georgie’s shit for a month,” Connor offers.
“Deal,” Evan answers immediately. He releases one of Connor’s wrists so they can shake hands. Connor takes the opportunity to push Evan off and flip him onto his back, his ass on Evan’s thighs to hold him down.
“I win,” Connor answers, smiling.
Evan rolls his eyes even though he’s smiling too. “I didn’t know it was a competition,” he retorts, even though he’s the one who started it.
Connor shakes his head. One of Evan’s hands comes up to rest on the nape of Connor’s neck, playing with the hair there. Connor’s smile turns fond. “You gonna love me when I’m old and bald?” he asks.
“Nope,” Evan answers, and he drags Connor down by the back of his neck to kiss the laugh from him.
END