Work Text:
After 4 years of being in a relationship with the playwright of the underground theater group Pluto, Oosaki noticed little habits his lover likes to do.
On the particular summer a year before, he rendezvoused Shinbashi with a tiny ponytail at the back of his head. By the time he saw Shinbashi during autumn leaf viewing, the ponytail was gone and his bangs revealed more of his eyepatch than usual.
This year, Shinbashi's bangs had grown to fully cover his eyes, leading him to tie his hair half up, half down when writing at home.
It was then Oosaki realized.
His lover only went to the hairdresser once a year.
To confirm his suspicions, he lightly brought the topic during one of their afternoons together.
"The salon? Rarely do I bring myself to such facilities."
"...Is there a particular reason behind that?"
Shinbashi tsk-ed. It wasn't that he found the question annoying. Neither was he displeased that Oosaki was questioning him. Yet, he took some time to answer, as if contemplating.
"Dialogue writing is a forte of mine on the manuscript. Even then, I am certain in my skill of writing everlasting dramatic scenarios such as one where the heroine reunites with her loved one and weaving emotional dialogues that stays with the audience's hearts. It is the build up to the happy ending that matters the most."
"So you're saying you don't like making small talk with your hairdresser?"
Shinbashi glared at him. Knowing Shinbashi, he was too shy to talk to people outside of necessity. He barely interacted with fans despite treating them well and thoroughly takes care of the theater's cleanliness personally.
This time, the playwright chose to ignore Oosaki's words, his pride not allowing him to admit that was the case.
Oosaki understood Shinbashi well enough by now. The lack of response was enough to confirm his suspicions.
"Would you allow me to cut them?"
"Huh?"
"If the hairdresser is the only reason holding you back from getting a haircut in this heat, I figured I could do it for you..." Oosaki trailed off, hesitating on his next words. He then walked up to Shinbashi, who was sitting on his workplace chair, and kneeled down in front of the playwright. Taking his hands off the manuscript, Oosaki continued. "I want to do something for my lover."
Shinbashi flinched at Oosaki's needy words. The detective's eyes looked up at him pleading, like a puppy expecting rubs on the head from his master. Shinbashi was weak. His mouth moved soundlessly, his eyes wandering in aimless direction trying to avoid the big expectant puppy eyes in front of him.
"Do as you please!"
Oosaki caught a glimpse of Shinbashi's deeply burning cheeks right before he threw his face away.
*
Fortunately, the Shinbashi manor had a set of antique scissors hidden away in one of their drawers. Oosaki reckoned is belonged to someone from the family. He took them out and brought them to the first floor where Shinbashi sat in front of the mirror.
"I'm sorry to keep you waiting."
"Oosaki-sama, before you bring those scissors close to my face, I must confirm that you don't wish to harm me with them, right?" He added his trademark sneer, as if taunting Oosaki.
There it was. Shinbashi's percusory delusions were acting up again.
"Please relax, Shinbashi-san. I'm just trying to give you a haircut. The heat is unbearable this summer."
He began by covering Shinbashi's torso with a light sheet of cloth and confirming the angle of the mirror. Once the preparations were made, he started from the back side that had reached the bottom of his neck. While giving the silhouette of a sea urchin from afar, once on his fingers Shinbashi's hair gave smooth black characteristics, something one would define as refined on its own.
Snip, snip, snip.
The scissors cut through the back side. Oosaki paid attention to make sure every bits were even.
Next, he moved to the sides and eventually came the dreaded bangs. Shinbashi had been quiet up until then. As Oosaki gently took care of Shinbashi's bangs, the latter simply averted his gaze below to protect hair strands from entering his eye.
The loudness of snipping scissors was comparable to the cicadas' songs outside.
"It's done, Shinbashi-san."
Oosaki grabbed a hand mirror and showed the back side. Shinbashi curiously inspected his hair, while Oosaki's gloved finger tidied up the sides of Shinbashi's bangs. Eventually the forefinger collided with the eyepatch, loosening the black piece of cloth.
After re-doing the mess he made, Oosaki planted a kiss on top of the black eyepatch.
"How do you feel now, Shinbashi-san?"
"...Admittedly, it feels more breezy with the hair gone. You did satisfactory work."
That was the best compliment he could get from his prickly lover. He accepted it with joy.
"Thank you, Oosaki-sama."
This summer memory was just one of the many they'll share together.