This is Not My Obituary

A Living Room Hair Cut

~Xinlong let his hand fall out of ZeYu pretty head of brown hair, watching dazed as ZeYu spit the opaque substance into a crumpled handful of tissues, wiping his mouth and looking downward at the pale bathroom tiles the school refused to clean more than once a week. The after-excitement pitted Xinlong's stomach, though he had just unloaded his earlier stress onto Zeyu's tongue. Still, ZeYu sat on his knees, helping the older zip his uniform pants back up and buckle his belt. ZeYu never did like this sort of thing, but Xinlong loved it so he did as asked and waited for his reward afterwards. Xinlong pulled the boy up from the grimy floor and pinned him to the wall, lips meshing with Zeyu's. The bitter, salty taste still pooled over Zeyu's tongue, transferring to Xinlong's. In any other situation he would've cringed at tasting himself, but it was alluring when it was on ZeYu. The masterful feeling of having trounced the undergoing male's soul byway of mouth made him feel a surge of attraction to ZeYu.

"I heard some students fuck in this bathroom after lunch." The door swung open as Xinlong pulled away from ZeYu's lips, pressing a quieting finger to them, eyes keeping contact.
ZeYu just nodded and kept track of his breathing.

"No way. No one's that stupid." Another voice resonated. "Eh, so what it they are? They'll get what's coming to them." One of the boys chuckled. "What do you mean by that?" The other asked.

ZeYu felt his heart race as Xinlong kept him pinned to the cinder block wall, chest pressed firmly to his own, the older in deep concentration.

"Well, my dad said that the fags would get what they deserve in this town. Said they'd think twice about being gay after what they'd put them through."

"They who?"

"I don't know." The boy shrugged, zipping up his pants. ~

ZeYu and Xinlong sat wide eyed as they listened to Shuyang. Both of them remembering that exact moment in time.

"Generational sexual cleansing." He said aloud, biting the tip of his tongue. "Thats what old lady Yi called it."

The men sat in a circle around Shuyang's coffee table, the youngest still soaked to the bone by the heavy rain outside, pounding down onto his windows. The wind whistled across the glass, shaking the frame.

He sighed deeply, looping his finger in the black hair tie around his ponytail, pulling and letting the hair fall soggily, the usually soft framing tendrils sat wet and cold against Shuyang's cheekbones. The soaked man ran a cut-up hand through his hair, a sting panging through his chest as a couple hundred strands accumulated in his fingers. He eyed the hair in his hand, sure there was enough to braid. Was he that stressed?

Hanyu observed the change in the younger's expression as his own heart sank. He regretted everything he had said to him and wished he could eat those words. He didn't dislike Shuyang at all, in fact he loved him and cared for him like a little brother. He had always felt that way, but those small things that got on his nerves surfaced and now he couldn't take any of it back.

Shuyang sighed. It was full of every ounce of feeling he had felt this past week. From the call about Gou to this very moment. All he could think was to hold back his tears and shake the loose hair from his palm, soiling the carpet with it.

"Xinlong can you do me a favor?" Shuyang ran the cuff of Gou's sweater under his nose, the rough, wet fibers leaving a red irritation under it. He handy noticed, but the hard earned tears were slipping down his face, catching everyone's attention yet no one said a thing.

"Sure." The middle answered, ready for his friends request.
Shuyang sniffed a few more times as he upped from the itchy carpet and footed towards the bathroom, drumming through vanity drawers and cabinets.

The group who had been left confused, peered into the small room, watching their youngest dig through his belongings, Xinlong still patiently awaiting his request. Finally, Shuyang hummed victoriously and gripped the cold metal tightly in his palm.

Shuyang stood firm in front of Xinlong as he dropped the scissors on the coffee table. "Cut it off."

"What?" Xinlong eyed Shuyang from below. "My hair, cut it off." Shuyang sniffed bluntly, plopping to the ground next to the older and waiting expectantly. "Shuyang I-" he blundered as he looked down at the scissors laying on the table. "Just do it."

Xinlong gulped heavily, but complied, fingers invading the hoops and spreading the two blades. He wanted to shut his eyes, refuse even, though it was a simple asking, he still felt ill with worry over it. He didn't want to fuck it up, but in that moment he hardly believed Shuyang would care what his hair looked like. The male grappled at the strands, conquering a whispy bunch and laying their length betwixt the shining cutlasses. With one astute clamp of his muscles, a plethora of dead locks dropped to the floor.

Xinlong gripped another section of hair, snipping it free from its root and allowing it to settle between them. It wasn't long before he had severed ties on each of Shuyang's tendrils, eyeing the pile of growth on the cream-colored carpet.

"Shuyang, why cut it off?" ZeYu broke the tense silence that had been stewing in for the past 45 minutes or so.

"It's falling out anyway... Gou likes it short too, why disappointed him when he comes back home?"