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Benji was tapping away at his computer, busying himself with all the admin that the Entity mission had generated. God, it was a lot. And then Ethan walked in. Benji looked up at him, because of course he did. How could you not look at Ethan? He had padded softly into the room, barefoot, and was now standing there in the doorway, a little hunched over. His hair had started to grow longer again, down his neck and curling around his ears. He had a look of discomfort on his face and his posture reflected it too. “Hi, baby,” said Benji softly, “Are you okay?”
Ethan nodded, tried to smile. But the smile didn't quite reach his eyes and the look of discomfort lingered.
Benji frowned and switched to sign, “Are you on your period?” That was normally what that look on his face indicated.
Ethan frowned back at Benji and shook his head.
“Love…” Benji got up out of his chair and walked towards Ethan, taking his hand, “What's going on? You've got your dysphoria face on.”
Benji watched as Ethan struggled to maintain his composure, fought to keep his face neutral. “I'm fine,” he said hoarsely.
Benji put a hand in Ethan's hair, gently pushing it back from his face. Ethan flinched. Suddenly, it dawned on Benji, “Oh. Oh, love, is it your hair?”
Ethan nodded and suddenly he couldn't do it — couldn't pretend anymore. He let out a noise, somewhere between a sob and a whimper, and buried his face in Benji's shoulder. Benji wrapped his arms around Ethan, squeezing tightly, applying pressure just how he liked it.
“It's too long, Benj. I look-” Ethan took a shuddering breath in, “I look like a…”
Benji shook his head, “No, no you don't. You look handsome. You still look like my husband. My Ethan.”
Ethan didn't respond, head still buried in Benji's shoulder. Benji could feel him trying to control his breathing, trying to keep calm.
“I can…cut it for you,” said Benji slowly, “If you want.”
Ethan lifted his head and smiled. And this time it really did reach his eyes.
Once Benji had the scissors in his hand, he realised how nervous he actually was. “Are you ready, Ethan"?”
“Yes. I want it gone,” Ethan shifted in his chair, “It keeps brushing my neck. I hate it.”
“Okay,” said Benji, taking a deep breath, “I’ll start there then.” He raised his hands and stopped, just short of Ethan’s neck.
“Are you ready, Benji?”
“Uhm,” Benji laughed nervously, “Yeah. Yep. I’m just picturing how I want it to turn out before I start. Don’t want to mess it up, y’know.”
“Benj, I don’t care,” said Ethan softly, “I used to cut my own hair just because I hated it long. It cannot look worse than that. I haven’t been to the hairdressers for thirty years. Just have a go.”
Benji reached for Ethan’s head, placing his left hand against Ethan’s neck. Ethan shivered under his touch. “Will you still love me if I fuck it up?”
“Yes, of course, you idiot. Just do it already, I’m using up a lot of energy trying to sit still.”
And with that, Benji made the first snip. A strand of Ethan’s soft brown hair floated down and brushed against Benji’s fingers. It tickled.
“Ohhh, Ethan, I think I’ve cocked it up.” Benji chewed his lip and stared at his handiwork. He was still standing behind Ethan. He didn’t want to know what it looked like from the front.
“It’s fine, Benji. Don’t stress. It’s off the back of my neck now, you can just leave it.”
“No,” Benji moaned, “I wanted to give you a good haircut. I’ve only done the back. If I stop now you’ll just look wonky. And the front will keep growing out until you have a never before invented hairstyle, that’s never before been invented because it looks so fucking awful and no one in their right mind would wear their hair like that.”
Ethan’s shoulders started shaking.
Benji smacked him, “Stop laughing! This is dire. I’m the one who has to look at you every day.”
“Hey! So dramatic. This is supposed to be about me and my dysphoria.”
“Well you seem to be enjoying yourself at the moment.”
“I’m not looking in the mirror,” replied Ethan quietly.
Benji sighed, a sudden sadness at Ethan’s pain taking over him. He put his hands on Ethan’s shoulders and rubbed them gently, “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault, Benj.”
“It is a little.”
“Not your—”
“Hey guys,” Grace wandered into the room, “Everything okay?” she peered at Ethan’s head, “That looks…interesting.”
Benji straightened a bit, “Everything is totally fine.”
Grace folded her arms, “Doesn’t look it.”
“Nope, all good,” Benji looked determinedly at the back of Ethan’s head.
“Benji…” said Ethan bemusedly.
“Look, Benji, I could hear you freaking out from the other room,” Grace grinned, “I’ve come to offer my services.”
Ethan shrugged, “Might as well. I’m getting impatient.”
Benji raised his eyebrows, “What makes you think you’d do a better job of it than me?”
“Pickpocket’s dexterity?” Grace offered, “And anyway nothing could be worse than those photos Ethan showed me from 2001.”
Ethan whipped his head to look at her, “Grace!”
Benji narrowed his eyes, “What photos from 2001?”
Ethan put his head in his hands, “It was one of the first times I cut my own hair. It was not good. And, Grace, you were not supposed to tell anyone about those.”
Grace smirked, “Whoopsie daisy. So. Can I have a go?”
“Fine,” Benji grumbled.
Grace did in fact do a better job of it, and Ethan got out with a semi-decent haircut. Benji and Grace made a big dramatic show of handing him the mirror. “Drum roll, please!” announced Grace.
Benji made a show of patting his thighs. Ethan smiled at him.
“Aaaand, voila!” Grace handed him the mirror.
Ethan’s face immediately split into a grin.
Benji put a hand on his shoulder, “Feel more like yourself, love?”
Ethan nodded, “No thanks to you.”
“Oi!” Benji was indignant, “I started it off. I did the hard part.”
Ethan gave his bum a pat and stood up, “You keep telling yourself that.”
Benji stared at him, flabbergasted.
Ethan turned to Grace, “Thank you so much. It looks and feels so much better.”
Grace’s eyes flitted to the floor as she tried to figure out what to do with her gaze, “Anytime, Ethan.”
Ethan held his arms open for a hug, and Grace fell into his embrace.
“I do it again, a thousand times, Ethan,” she whispered.
“I know,” he whispered back, “I know.”