Work Text:
The sun sat low in the sky, soft rays dancing across the wooden floor Ness swept for the umpteenth time that day alone. Ever since the shop was in his care, he set a rule of cleaning in between clients no matter what.
The hard part about being a leader was that, regardless of what was written, people followed examples. So even though they were within an hour of closing, he stood dumping a pan of thick black clippings into the trash. Regulars and employees were starting to joke that he didn't let the dust settle before sweeping it away.
“Isn't that good?” He reasoned with the secretary, his unofficial assistant in other words, since most jobs were performed by him alone. She shrugged, passing a small container of dye between bored hands with that stone face he hated so much during times like this.
The last of the hair fell into the trash as he scoffed. “Of course you don't have an opinion, Mindy. Pay's the same at the desk if our reputation tanks.”
Mindy stepped forward, clipboard pressed into her side like she had its contents memorized already. “Like you're doing this for the money.” Her jet-black hair absorbed the sun’s light, but Ness could see it reflected off her from within. “Whatever happened to retirement being about relaxation?”
Ness followed her comment up with an immediate suck of his teeth. The number of times he heard that sentiment was too much to count on his fingers and toes combined. “It's not like I've done harsh labor for years. I only played football for a while, there's still plenty of work to be done.” He placed the broom in the corner after his lecture, turning to see a grin finally cracking across plum-painted lips.
“It's a shame you want to work yourself to an early grave,” she leaned in to intercept the retort before it came, “but there is someone here that's glad we're the only salon open this late on a Sunday.”
Head cocked, Ness dabbed at his raised brow, “Who…Mindy!” His hand came away with minimal sweat, the closing tasks much more manageable on slow days like this. Or so he thought.
“Why didn't you tell me there was a walk-in?!” Newly capped bottles of product fell over as he snatched his apron off the desk and threw it on hastily. There was no spillage, but after two dye jobs that morning, what was one more color to the canvas?
He flew across the room gathering the tools for the belt around his waist, all while Mindy chuckled. “Calm down, I didn't come back here for fun. They asked for you specifically, so I doubt they mind a couple minutes of waiting.” She recoiled at his glare, trying to soften the blow by pressing a black nail into his chest. “Go work your magic, boss.”
The urge to scoff again was barely subdued by her pandering. He could only be so snappy with his most loyal employee. “Whatever.” He waved behind him while knotting the strings at his backside one last time. “But that means you're on restock duty!” Her least favorite.
Ness vacated the room with that, happy to get his revenge and lessen his load even if it meant he had another head to deal with.
“I'm sorry for the delay!” He stumbled over to his station for the day, feeling the client's presence without raising his head. Focus glued to his waist, he triple-checked for shears. “I was er.. cleaning…”
Empty. His pockets as well.
“Hm?” The calm voice lifted his gaze. “Are you missing something?”
Ness stared wide-eyed at the client in his chair, immediately drawn to the nearly 40 inches of hair cascading down his back. Platinum blonde and trimmed, it appeared in good condition, taking an invisible weight off Ness’s shoulders. Even the blue underneath was maintained, not a hint of teal in the deep indigo like many self-dye jobs he was tasked with cleaning up. He had more experience than most working with those colors together.
The client stared back, already shifting in his seat. “If it’s too late, I can come another time—”
“N-no!” Ness sputtered. He scanned a nearby desk for a pair of shears and grabbed the first ones, ignoring how they felt too tight around his fingers as he slipped them into his belt. “It’s just that… Your hair doesn’t look in need of an emergency, is all. It’s quite well-groomed.”
Usually, he wouldn’t be so blunt, but everything about this interaction was throwing him off. Although the client spoke gently and smiled even softer, alarm bells had rung through his nervous system since he stepped back into the shop’s main room.
“Thank you,” extending a hand towards Ness, the man laughed as soft and pure as snow. “I suppose I have good genes.”
There was a moment of hesitation before Ness accepted the handshake. He was lost in his head more than usual, and he couldn’t pin down why.
They didn't look alike, smell alike, or even talk alike. This stranger seemed foreign to boot, long sleeves obscuring his hand as it dropped back to his lap.
And yet Ness was stuck back years ago. Reliving the scene when his... friend took him on a trip, to ‘get away from all the attention.’ They had just won the U-20 World Cup and would be countries apart playing for opposing clubs in the months to come.
Back then, his mouth moved faster than the signals could spark in his brain, and he accepted without a second thought. He supposed not much had changed, lips hanging ajar as he stared at that scarred face.
They'd found a condo, beauty etched in the back of his mind for the past twenty years. The two of them slept and did whatever they pleased. Ness particularly fell in love with the zoo, dragging him out at least every other day for the two weeks they spent there. It was a kind of gentleness they rarely had time for.
On the fifteenth day, Ness was completely alone.
The bathroom lights only gave a dim glow as rain fell for the first time. Every piece of his existence vanished overnight, not even a trace for Ness to cling to. It was a final act you see in movies, extreme and definitive, but worth it in the end.
Leaving meant he got to take everything with him on the way out. Ness was free to start down a new path, and even if it took time, he could heal from it.
But life had always been cruel to him.
It was in that same dull bathroom that he collapsed on the floor, clutching the tile with one arm over his stomach.
He didn't know it was possible. That birth control could fail in such a dire case.
All he could do was find his way back home, back to his family that shunned him for chasing his dreams. There was no saying what they'd think when they found out he fell pregnant chasing a man instead.
'Blood is thicker than water' was a phrase Ness never thought he'd identify with.
Those years ago, his parents took him back, picking up the shattered pieces that were left behind. Even his siblings gave him a break during his pregnancy and begrudgingly offered their assistance when he needed it because they all knew when he had his mind set on something, there was no stopping him. No matter what, he was having that baby.
The first few months went by well. Ness couldn’t believe this family was the same one that didn’t return his calls or thank him for the gifts he brought home every season.
It wasn’t until halfway through his pregnancy that he learned for a second time—everything came with its price.
There was a single condition placed on his return home that he’d silently accepted the moment he walked back through those doors.
He was to give up his parental rights and promise never to reach out about his child.
Just the thought haunted Ness. For the remaining four months of his pregnancy he couldn’t eat the same, couldn’t sleep the same knowing that he was going to push a human out of him and hand them over to a stranger.
When the day came, he bawled through a painless birth, clinging to the few hours of skin-on-skin contact crucial for a healthy newborn. Blonde hair and pale eyes, his genes had taken a back seat, and hopefully, that would make life easier on the little guy. Because by the next day, he was left in a crib to himself and placed in a catalog like some designer product.
Ness moved on with his life. Had to. Even when his heart felt like it’d been split open and bled out the hospital exit, he could see the good in the situation.
Someone was going to take care of the boy as if he were their own. They’d name him, raise him into a well-mannered member of society, and not the failure his biological parents turned out to be.
Metal snapped against the floor as Ness’s belt fell. That hair. Those eyes.
The sound of knees dropping echoed next.
His client tilted his head and hummed so sweetly. "Something wrong, mom?”