Written for Dualism (dualavi) from the KHYaoi LJ community. The prompt was "hair."
Zexion/Demyx. No likey yaoi, no read.
EEEEEEEEEEE Zemyx heart heart. 'kay I shut up now.

SNIP SNAP
spirallin/reveneirz
It was a particularly slow day at shop, and for the past fifteen minutes Rikku had been entertaining herself with a bottle of hairspray and one of the display wigs she'd snagged from the front window. When Paine directed a vaguely disgruntled-looking teen to her from the front desk, she looked up and grinned cheerily. "Hiya! Welcome to Chop Shop, I'm Rikku, and I'll be whacking at your hair today."

The teen stared at her through a long fringe of over-grown, slate-colored bangs, messy, and in Rikku's opinion, entirely unstylish. "...what?"

"I'm kidding, kiddin'! Sit down;" where normal hairdressers might have offered their customers the chair in a cordial, polite manner, Rikku more or less forced the male into the seat, and tied a (plastic, duck-and-bubble printed) bib around his neck with an unnecessary flourish. "What's your name?"

"...Zexion," he offered, after a moment of staring at the bib, distantly horrified.

"Good, good," Rikku chattered easily, retying her own apron. "And what'll it be today, good sir?"

"...I don't know."

Rikku cast him a skeptical look, twirling a pair of scissors on one finger. "How can you not know?"

"To be honest, my friend actually coerced me into getting a hair cut. He took my house and car keys and is holding them ransom in the parking lot."

Hmm. Sounded familiar. Wait for it...wait...

"...Ohh! You're the one Demyx told me to look out for!" The older women was staring at him in a new light; from the counter, Paine recongized Rikku's Plotting Expression, and pitied the poor boy in the chair.

Zexion twitched; the scissors spun dangerously close to his head. "What?"

"Demyx hangs out with the little bro of my best friend's boyfriend," Rikku prattled on happily, pulling out a spray bottle and liberally dampening Zexion's hair. A mischievious grin now lit her face, and her hands were flying to her tools, clipping up sections of his hair, pinning others; a flash of silver, cutters waving in his face again. Twitch. "He called me last night and told me he was 'sending over a lost cause for me to pretty-up.'"

Haha, Dem, you're gonna owe me sooooooo much for this one...!

If Zexion was disturbed by the sudden maniacal giggling that was erupting over his head, he didn't show it; from the moment he met Demyx, he had gotten used to the fact that flighty musician was a scheming, mischievous brat on the inside, and when Demyx wanted things done, things would happen, one way or the other, with or without his consent.

He resisted the urge to scratch as clippings of his once-long, quickly-shortening hair dropped into his collar, and stared at his reflection with a resigned expression; all he could do was hope the blonde bloody well liked it. Damnit.

For the last half-hour, Demyx had been sitting in the driver's seat of Zexion's (kidnapped) car, drumming his hands on the steering wheel and listening to the radio. His (evil) plan worked surprisingly well, and the blonde was sure Rikku would manage to find some way to make the floppy excuse Zexion called a hair style into something that wouldn't cover his entire head, face and all, in shaggy, unkempt locks. Maybe then he could stare at his face without that stuff obstructing the view--not that that was his ulterior motive, nope, not at all--!

The vehicle shook slightly as the car door opened, and then slammed shut. Demyx broke off from humming along to the radio and turned to his best friend. "Hey, Zexy! How'd it go--holy shit."

"I'm glad you approve," Zexion remarked dryly, attempting to squash the very slight self-conscious feeling in mind, and failing miserably.

Demyx illustrated his response by gaping at him and repeating, "Holy shit."

Zexion frowned, reaching up to idly poke at his newly-shorn bangs. "Is it really that bad?"

"Uh, no, I..." Demyx stammered and trailed off, staring. Still damp from the cut, Zexion's hair shone a pale silver-blue, now cut short and spiky in the back; Rikku had mowed down the length of his bangs and chopped off about a quater of them, leaving half to drape over his right eye and cheek ("so you still have that mysterious bad-boy aura!" Rikku beamed; Zexion snorted). A few long strands still hung in his left eye, the rest artfully parted and wind-tossed over his face.

With the previous mop of hair suddenly eviscerated, the blonde muscian's attention was sharply drawn to Zexion's high, angled cheekbones, the slight asian slant of his eyes, the long smooth line of his throat...

I'm bringing Rikku chocolate and roses next time I see her.

"Demyx?"

"Guh," was all the blonde managed; Zexion's face (elegant new hair-cut and all!) was suddenly much too close to his, one eyebrow arched, the visible eye (he'd noticed the brilliant dark color of those perfect, perfect eyes but now they were clearer than water, and oh damnit, he was waxing poetic, wasn't he?) staring steadily at him. "Um, I mean, it's awesome! Seriously! It looks amazing." He shot Zexion a nervous grin, feeling his cheeks heat up. You look amazing. "Rikku did a really good job."

"Speaking of Rikku..." Was that a smirk?; the foot or so of space between them suddenly closed up to a good four or five inches. "...she talks. A lot. In fact, she talked a lot about you."

Demyx's thought process degenerated into something like 'Ohshitohshitohshitohshit.'

"Ahahaha...uhh... w-what'd she say...?"

"She mentioned you had a crush on 'this one guy' for a long time..."

Scratch that, I'm gonna strangle her with a sitar wire...!

"Ehhh--" Demyx hedged. Crap crap crap this could get ugly--well, no, not Zexy, he's freakin' hot. GAH. "Listen, Zexy, I, ummm..."

"Demyx?" An amused indigo eye peered at him, and he had to beat back the impulsity-demons that were hopping madly around his brain, cackling and urging him to run his hands through that shining soft hair, to draw it out of the way and have a look at his other eye too.

"Y-yeah?"

"Shut up." And he kissed him, long and slow and perfect, perfect, just like his stupid perfect hair and eyes and lips and more or less everything else about him. Demyx had blinked for a second, utterly stupified, before he grinned into the kiss, eagerly responded, and reached up to tangle his hands in that perfect hair...

Huh. He guessed he might not murder Rikku later then, anyhow.