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From the moment Brutal Sniper came back to life, he knew he’d changed.
His body would shift from a ghoulish gray back into a healthy tan every couple of months. His nails never quite grew the same. His hair would go from healthy black locks to frayed and dead, white hairs appearing in bunches before suddenly falling off. He was in-between life and death. He was an undead, meant to have departed; his body didn’t function as well as it used to, at least not properly.
He was in particular not a fan of the gray hairs. He thought they made him look old and withered; a man out of his prime, when he was anything but. He was one of the strongest freaks in the freak world, he’s dominated countless veteran freaks, taken on legions of Vagineers and is on par with Painis Cupcake. He was not a decaying mummy, a disturbing display of humanities modification of the natural world, no, he was… Just himself.
He hated those hairs. He felt as if he could feel every individual strand on his head, growing and crawling from his scalp and laying across his sweaty brow. He wanted to pluck each one individually with tweezers, paint them black every day until his hair started falling in clumps due to the overuse of bleach. Before he died, he had wonderful jet black hair unlike his BLU counterpart; black as night, whenever he cleaned it’d gain a healthy glow that many would be jealous to have.
He is no stranger to yearning back for his humanity, in the end he prefers the freak life much better. It’s more… freeing, chaotic, violent and bloody. Just as he likes it. But it's still something he dwells on for longer than he's comfortable admitting.
It seems that his partner, however, is in disagreement with him. Gentlespy seems to adore the gray hairs.
They lay on a large king-sized bed, they snuck in some poor sods house before killing him, taking the house as a temporary shelter. They tended to do that, never settling in one place for longer than necessary. Survival of the fittest was the land's motto.
The sniper was sprawled naked under the sheets, head resting on Gentlespy’s chest while his right hand scratched at his happy trail. Gentlespy had an arm wrapped around the sniper's back with his hand coming up to scratch at his head.
While scratching, a single gray hair fell from his head falling down slowly. He scoffed, the hair bouncing off his breath and onto Gentle’s chest.
Gentle chuckled, “My, my, cher… Is that a gray hair I spot?”
Brutal rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Real funny.”
Gentlespy shook his head, “Au contraire, mon ami. I find them… Cute on you.”
“Cute.”
Gentle got defensive, a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks. “Yes, cute. What of it? I can’t find my partner cute?”
“‘S not that. It’s just… Gray hairs, mate?”
“They give you… Charm. Of sorts." He shrugged, thumb massaging the snipers temple.
"So young, yet already quite the silver fox…” He purred, a smirk grazing his features. He began to search for more, scouring his mane for more.
“Mon dieu! you’ve got a whole streak hidden in here!”
Brutal Sniper got red in the face, avoiding Gentle’s eyes. He tried to get up but was pulled down mercilessly by a strong hand to keep him down.
“Non, non, non, you’re not going anywhere!”
“Bloody– Get off!”
Gentle lowered himself to Brutal’s level, taking his face in his hands. Brutal gave him a questioning look, eyes darting about. Tentatively, Gentle’s right hand smoothed over the surface of Brutal forehead before submerging itself within his hair, scratching before revealing a rather large patch of white hairs.
“Beautiful.”
“Whuh?”
“I think they look beautiful on you.”
“So y’said.” He rolled his eyes. He didn't know why it was troubling him nor why the other was so enraptured by them.
“Non, you don’t understand, I…” He gazed to the left, unsure of why he felt this primal need to adore this man's white hairs of all things.
Gentle, with a determined expression, locked eyes with Brutal before pecking his hairline, kissing his way onto his scalp and rubbing his face adoringly onto his locks; he need not worry about the cleanliness of it, unlike any other time, as they’d just taken a shower together a few moments prior to their cuddling session.
“Si tu pouvais lire dans mon coeur, tu verrais la place où je t’ai mise.”
Brutal didn’t know what to do with himself, hands placing themselves onto Gentle’s hips. Now his face truly resembled a tomato. He didn't speak a lick of french, but he could nonetheless identify a well-placed flirt. His fingers drummed on Gentle's slim hips,
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
Gentlespy kissed his cheek, curling a white hair around his pointer finger and letting it bounce off. Brutal Sniper sighed, defeated, and let himself be adored, arms wrapping around Gentlespy’s back.
He had no choice in the matter, did he? He was at the spy’s mercy and he knew it, no matter how tough he made himself look. At least he didn’t mind the outward affection. Gentlespy was never this… clingy, if you will. It was nice, distracting him from his own self-loathing for a while. Reminds him what he’s really fighting for. Not just himself, but for Gentle’s own sake, too.
He could stay like this forever. Embraced by the love of his life, peace and tranquility. Of course, he wouldn’t mind a few blood stains dirtying the covers nor the blades of knives piercing through skin, but that’s neither here nor there.
He really was a lucky guy. Lucky to have survived, lucky to have this charming man in his arms, lucky to be thriving as he is.