“It’ll give Noah something to play with,” Blair said absently.
Aspen would have retorted with something snarky, but they were distracted by their reflection. They watched as their blush started at the edge of their temple and slashed across the top of their round cheeks. When Noah blushed, it started right at thehighest point of his cheekbone and spread outwards, almost like a ripple in a lake.
That thought wasn’t helping their blushing situation. Neither was the only thing they could think to say in response, which was, “I do love playing with his sideburns when he shaves them.”
Blair raised her right eyebrow, which also lifted the sleeping dragon she had tattooed above it. “And now you can play all you want, cause you’re officially single and ready to mingle.”
Aspen pressed a little too hard into the bowl of bleach with the brush, and a glob spilled out onto their purple jeans.
“Oh shit,” they grunted, quickly placing the bowl on the wheeling cart and wiping at the bleach with their barber cape.
“Hey, you little menace! That’s my cape!” Blair said, turning off the razor and grabbing the towel from around Aspen’s neck. She whacked their shoulder with it before tossing it at their bleach-covered pants.
“And that’s my towel!”
“It’s also your bleach!”
Aspen groaned, but the corner of the towel was already in the bleach, so they decided to turn it into yet another one of their cleaning rags.
Once most of the bleach was gone, they looked down at the pinkish stain. “Do you think I could splatter the whole leg with bleach, and it would look intentional?”
Blair adjusted the apron to cover more of Aspen’s neck and then went back to her razor duties. “I feel like with your new enby attitude and this stunning haircut, you’ll be able to get away with a lot.”
Aspen wasn’t entirely sure about that. They were having another good outfit day, where the curve of their chest and hips seemed to fit perfectly in their vintage t-shirt, and their ass looked fantastic in their now bleach-splattered jeans. However, the day before, they’d spent two hours crying in front of themirror because they wanted to wear a dress, but in an enby way, and they couldn’t seem to pull it off.
It had taken them a while–like over eight months of intensive research and soul searching–to land on the label of nonbinary. Still, almost a year and a half later, they sometimes wondered if they might be closer to genderfluid. Some days, they didn’t mind their curves at all and actually liked dressing them up and flaunting them while wearing traditionally masculine shoes, accessories, or jackets. Then they had days where every dip and roll of their body felt repulsive, and they wanted to crawl inside a burlap sack and never leave. They were hoping that having some gender-fucky hair would help.
“Like…say…kissing your very cute bestie who has been an absolute angel to you throughout this whole ordeal,” Blair said, and Aspen’s eyes snapped to hers in the mirror.
“What?”
Blair rolled her eyes. “Were you spacing out?”
“I mean, yes, as always, but I can use context clues. You think I should kiss Noah?”
“I was saying that after this haircut, you’re going to look so good, I bet you could get away with kissing Noah.”
Aspen glowered at her. “Yes, because that sounds totally consensual and is exactly how I’ve been envisioning my first post-divorce kiss: as something I have to ‘get away with.’”
Blair sighed. “You know that’s not what I meant. You two are practically joined at the hip. I bet if you had a teensy little conversation about it, you would absolutely get consent.”
“Not all friends have to kiss. Just because you and every woman you’ve ever befriended have kissed?—”
“Hey!” she said, pointing the razor at Aspen in the mirror. “I haven’t kissed Talia.”
“That’s because your roommate is aroace, which I’m pretty sure is why you wanted to live with her and a bunch of other dudes in the first place.”
Blair smirked and buzzed another lock of Aspen’s hair. “Alright, smarty pants, you got me there. But I know how important your first post-divorce kiss is, given how many fucking times you’ve brought it up this month. I’ve seen the way you look at Noah?—”
An oily feeling settled in Aspen’s stomach. “I haven’t been looking at him like anything! There is a huge amount of platonic love between us, but there’s never been anything more, especially not while I was married–”
“Woah, woah,” Blair said, holding up her hands and clicking the razor off. She grabbed the bottom of the chair with her foot and swiveled it around, so they were facing each other. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m not trying to imply anything about your marriage, or your vows of monogasty?—”
“Monogamy,” Aspen said, stifling a smile at the way Blair said monogamy and chastity so often, she sometimes combined them into one word.
“Whatever. I wasn’t trying to imply that there was anything un-to-ward–” she overpronounced every letter of the word, which finally did make Aspen crack a smile. “I’m just saying that since you moved out, it seems like you and Noah have gotten really close, in ways you weren’t before. Maybe there’s some potential there to explore more, whether that be some post-divorce kisses or more monogasty?—”
“Sweet gay Jesus,” Aspen murmured.
