Play It Again, Charlie (35 page)

“Now?” Charlie couldn't quite keep his voice down. Will walked over to him without bothering with his clothes.

“Now.” Will had one eyebrow up.

“You're naked,” Charlie pointed out, and it shouldn't have been possible for Will's eyes to glitter
more
. He put his tools down on the table behind Charlie and then moved to stand at his side. A moment later his fingers were making soft trails through Charlie's hair. Charlie shivered. “You're going to cut my hair naked,” he stated, to clarify, and Will flipped a handful of hair into Charlie's eyes.

“In case you get shy.” He must have picked up the comb, because something was sweeping lightly through the rest of Charlie's hair. “You know, you have this way of stating facts, Charlie. It drives me crazy.”

Charlie blew what hair he could away from his nose, then jerked reflexively when Will used the spray bottle and water misted all over his neck and back. “Sorry.” Will moved the comb down his neck and then held still. Charlie caught his breath at the first snip of the scissors. If Will gave him a Mohawk or spikes, he was going to have a hard time explaining it tomorrow at work. Jeanine would never let him live it down.

At his apology, Will muttered something that sounded harsh, then snipped a few more times. Charlie felt what had to be long pieces of hair trickle down over his bare shoulders and tried not to go tense.

“No, Charlie, drives me
crazy
,” Will corrected, not really making sense until he bent down to speak against Charlie's ear. “Like...
I'm fucking you
.” He straightened up, and then his fingers and the comb were working through Charlie's hair again. He must have put something in his mouth, the comb, maybe, which was hardly sanitary, not that Charlie was complaining, because his next words were taut. “At least you aren't one of those men who says he's
making love
.”

Charlie opened his mouth and didn't hide his frown since Will couldn't see it anyway. He thought that's what he had been doing.

Will prodded Charlie's head to one side and then another, then he hummed under his breath before pushing Charlie's head down an inch. He combed quickly and then pulled before making a few more cuts. The snip of the scissors amplified his silence. A silence that only got worse when he stopped and Charlie knew he, or his hair, was being studied. He touched the buttons of his shirt.

It was probably another strange phrase of Will's with another oddball definition. Charlie knew that, even if he didn't want to imagine what Will meant by “making love.” But he licked his lips, though it made a few strands stick to them.

“What's wrong with that?” He stared at his legs, and Will moved behind him. His hand urged Charlie's head to the other side, though he kept it down. Charlie could just see Sam's tail as Sam ignored the two mostly naked men in favor of his dinner.

“They don't know the difference between saying and doing,” Will declared with confidence, then he pulled back a section of Charlie's hair until it was almost painful. Charlie glared and shivered at another spray of water over his hair and skin.

“And you're an expert?” he had to demand, his voice rising slightly. It was noticeable with how silent and cool Will was being, somewhere behind him. Will had, according to his own words, never even been on a real date.

“So when you had me ass up, bent over your counter, seeing stars and begging for more of your cock, you'd call that making love?” Will's voice remained even throughout that whole speech, though he tugged on Charlie's hair again. Charlie decided distractedly that, nudity aside, there was no way Will was like this with customers; he'd never have any repeat business.

“When I had you underneath me, and you were"— Charlie paused to breathe—"so incredible that I couldn't get far enough inside you, yes, I would.” He stopped again when Will's exhale stirred his hair and Will fingers had to smooth the mess he'd just made back down. He stepped closer once he was done; Charlie could feel his body heat now. “And I didn't make you beg,” he pointed out, improbably blushing again. Not at what he'd said but for the idea of making Will beg at all.

“Oh, but you could have.” Will had to clear his throat, and when his hands lit on Charlie's shoulders, they were hot enough even through the fabric to make Charlie shudder. Charlie tried to turn around, and Will's hands tightened, reminding him that he was supposed to be sitting still. That was all Will said, and from where he was, Charlie couldn't see his face. He was just teasing again, anyway. Charlie shouldn't be thinking of what his smooth voice would sound like after calling for Charlie for a long time, or what he would look like as he did.

“You shouldn't say things like that.” He was barely whispering. Will offered himself up so easily, nobody should ever reject him, and obviously they never had. “Begging for someone... it's humiliating.” Of course Will didn't understand. His hands slid away from Charlie completely, and Charlie started talking again. “Anyway, you... you asked me not to.”

He cringed, though he could recall everything as Will had asked him that, his tone already pleading.

Will moved. He was at Charlie's side, though Charlie couldn't see much, and what he could see was taken away when Will's fingertips landed carefully along his jaw, around his ear, and gently pushed until Charlie was looking in the other direction. Will made a noise and then spoke over the misting water bottle.

“It's not humiliating when you know you're going to get what you're begging for, Charlie.”

Charlie jerked, and Will tsked before coaxing him back to where he wanted him. This time Charlie didn't flinch at the rapid
snip snip snip
, though it didn't seem like Will was aiming or focusing on his hair at all. Charlie had just banished the images of Will on his back, his voice hoarse, when Will slid in front of him and around to his other side. “Well,” he added, combing Charlie's hair out in a new direction, sending another cascade of cut hair down his back. Some of it went under Charlie's shirt. “Now I understand.”

Another series of fast and seemingly random cuts, and at least Charlie could talk again.

“Understand what?”

The soft humming that Will had just started abruptly stopped. Charlie tried to glance over and saw part of a shrug. But he shut his eyes when Will abandoned the comb and worked his fingers through Charlie's hair. They dragged lightly across his scalp and then pulled to sudden stops at the new shorter length, only to do it again. Then again. The third time Charlie gave in and pushed back in the seat with a sigh. Will's thumbs dug into the muscles at the back of his neck, applying pressure before sliding back into a gentle massage.

“Well, actually, I don't understand at all,” Will admitted, though his words hitched in the middle when Charlie eased his head back. Upside down and through his curtain of hair, Charlie could see Will was staring at him, that same line between his eyes. Will opened his mouth, then pushed Charlie's head until he faced forward again. “Why somebody who"— he avoided either phrase as he came around, and frowned only at Charlie's hair as he stood in front of him—"like you do has never been called daddy before. It doesn't mean anything, you know,” he lied a moment later, pulling twin strands from either side of Charlie's hair and comparing their length.

Charlie took a hand from his shirt and wrapped it around Will's wrist. It earned him a frown, but it made Will look at him. However gentle his hands were, Will still looked upset.

“I
knew
I didn't like Mark.” Will made a frustrated sound and then tugged free. He went back to considering Charlie's hair, and, still holding it, reached for his scissors. Charlie tensed up again. “Who's that civilized, anyway, around their ex-boyfriend and his... .” Will's glance down was too fast to read. “Me?”

“Lots of people, when they have to be.” Charlie thought of Katia and Alicia's father. He would have shaken his head at the confusion all over Will's face, but he couldn't move. Will was still cutting. “Besides, we weren't anything like that.”

Will froze mid cut, with the scissors open. “Then what the hell were you? He knew enough about you, and he did
not
like seeing me here. And of course you had... .” He shut himself up, finishing cutting, and then took up the comb again. It would be stupid to ask. Charlie crossed his arms. It reminded him that his shirt was still halfway buttoned.

“What?”

Will met his gaze. “You had bad breakup written all over you when I first met you.”

“Well,” Charlie said, looking back at him. That was more than a little humiliating. It was a wonder Will had talked to him at all. Why he had was still a mystery.

“Of course, I wasn't expecting
that guy
.” Will coughed as he measured Charlie's hair with his comb, then cut a few more times. “But even taking the khakis into account, I don't get it. He... . Did you guys go out? Did you live together?”

“Do you always ask questions like this when you're doing someone's hair?” Deflecting wasn't going to do any good, and he knew it. He really didn't want to talk about Mark to Will, especially since apparently he had already seemed pathetic when Will had first met him. Talking about Mark was just going to make him look worse.

“I'm not
doing
your hair, I'm cutting it. If you ask me to color and style it, we're going to have to have a talk.” He didn't think it was an accident that Will's fingers were buried in a significant portion of his hair when Will said that, his tone so snippy he didn't need scissors.

Charlie debated asking to go blond just to get left alone, but he had a feeling Will would tell him no. It seemed early to have the talk about exes, if he and Will even
had
a relationship, if they were anything other than friends with benefits. Though the thought of being that again made Charlie's chest tighten. His weeklong flings in college had felt more real.

“Yes, we went out, and no... not exactly.” He pushed another button into place. “Is there a reason for this questioning?”

“You just did the whole toothbrush, overnight-stay thing?” Will stopped again, though he didn't untangle his hand. Charlie wondered if that was on purpose to keep him in his seat. Fingers tapped against his scalp at the thought, and he glanced up, irritated. Will seemed to take that as a yes. Charlie felt hot, and it wasn't just embarrassment at having his past laid out for examination.

Will's stare was intense for a long moment before he turned away. “Did you sleep with anybody else while you were with him?”

“Will.” Charlie kept his voice low. At the rumble, Will's hold relaxed, though he trailed his fingers through Charlie's hair again, combing it up and then down.

“Oh.” Will patted his hair. “How long?”

Charlie shifted. He didn't want to go into the years, what it had been at first, what it had ended up being. “Long enough.”

“Didn't you get bored? Want anybody else?” It was frightening how much Will wanted to know. Charlie tried to control his breathing. The fact that Will didn't know these things meant Will had been right; this had all been a mistake.

“It isn't that you don't, it's that you want him
more
, or not to hurt him by doing something you haven't talked about.” Out loud it didn't sound romantic, it just made him feel stupid for being so out of touch that he had to explain the concept.

“But you
weren't
his boyfriend?” Will kept on anyway, only the hands stroking through Charlie's hair were gentle. “I thought that's what... all of that... meant.”

“Well, he didn't.” If Charlie said anything else it would probably come out in a snarl. He shifted again, popping that same damn button free again. Will's hand released him. Only for a moment, then it was back, parting Charlie's hair again as though Will had messed up his own work.

“Oh,” he murmured finally. The comment to himself sounded more like, “Loyal type, and those
pants
.” But he swooped back around to the side to fuss with the hair over Charlie's ear, then came around to the front. “So he left after your, um,
hip
injury.” There was still something cutting in how Will pronounced “hip,” despite his hesitation. Charlie focused on Will's bare chest directly in front of him. He'd said as much to Mark,
two years
, he'd said, with Will right there, after Mark had commented on his walking.

It had probably been killing Will to wait to ask this long. Surprisingly, Charlie felt his mouth twitch upward at the idea of Will forcing himself to be patient. He suppressed it, just to spend time wondering why Will had bothered.

“No. Before, I guess.” Charlie took advantage of how Will's hands faltered to roll his shoulders. “Mark's not— ”

“That much of an asshole?” Will supplied helpfully, then he looked innocent when Charlie lifted his head. Whatever was in his stare, Will sighed. “Don't mind me. What do I know about it, anyway?” There was an unfamiliar note in Will's voice. It could have been genuine confusion, but the wrinkle between Will's eyes made him look annoyed. “What do I know about
anything
?” Will went on. “I don't even know what you teach.”

Charlie honestly thought he had mentioned it or that Will had figured it out. “Most people don't seem too interested.” The extremely insulted noise Will made let him know that Will wasn't most people, in case Charlie had forgotten. “Criminal Justice includes studying the law, crime statistics, research, crime solving... that sort of thing.”

Will's frown lifted somewhat, and Charlie felt himself straighten.

“Oh, really?” Will moved around him again, occasionally using his scissors. “And did you decide if you're going to do that thing? With
him
? If you want to?” The scissors hit the table at the question, and then Will's hands brushed over Charlie's shoulders before easing down his back. If he was getting rid of stray hair, he was taking his time doing it.

Charlie angled his head up, though he hadn't even really thought about it.

“It might not ever happen.” It probably wouldn't. Will snorted, then said “but” for him. “But,” Charlie said it again, anyway, “it would be a challenge and it could do some good, if it were done right.”