Title: Locks and Shears
Author: Ranma Matsuri
Pairings: slight One-sided Kim/Roy
Theme: Scar (#6)
Notes: Somewhat Canon. Somewhat. Part of "Spark, Ignition" my attempt at the 20 themes of Kim/Roy challenge. Set sometime during the War.
Firstly, big thanks to Grike's Stalker for the review! I can't recall at the moment if I replied to you but just in case I didn't, just wanna again say thanks. ^_^
Wanna thank those that have favorited and added this story to their alerts as well haha, didn't know authors knew that, didn't you? *pretends to be omnipresent*
As for this chapter, this is a small plot bunny I've had at the back of my mind for a while, something I've intended to either have in a longer arc or as a one-shot drabble of sorts. I thought the idea fit perfectly with this particular theme so I'm glad to finally have it down on paper... or should I say online.
" The heavens... why the hell don't you just cut that mess already? "
Zolf J. Kimbley turned away from the reflection that had held his gaze and turned his attention to his young tent mate. Roy Mustang stood at the entrance giving a sharp look of disapproval that precisely matched his condescending tone from earlier. He was always such an interesting sight, so headstrong and arrogant. Idealistic and naive... perhaps foolish as well, for not many men with or without proper ranking were ballsy enough to speak to the Crimson alchemist as though he were a stupid child. Luckily for him, said Crimson alchemist found it endlessly amusing.
" Though it may not seem like it to you, we're at war not a social event..." Roy continued as he laid back with an exhausted sigh onto his cot. " There's scarce few luxuries we can afford and vanity isn't one of them." He made a point of running his hand (that clothed, deliciously blood soaked hand) through his own trimmed back raven locks to emphasize his point.
Practical his decision to cut his hair may have been, to Zolf, he really looked positively ridiculous. That cut was an ill match for the startling pretty face it adorned and did nothing to accentuate it. Good luck convincing a stiff egomaniac of Mustang's calibar of that fact though. He really couldn't wait for the war to start taking it's toil on the brat, he was sure it'd make for the most fascinating of beautiful pieces this war has produced thus far... one must be patient about these things though.
" You really think so little of me, Flame." Kimbley turned away from the pitiful excuse of a lone mirror they had near the wash basin and began once again brushing his long tresses over his shoulder. He couldn't really argue with the kid's logic at all, it was a absolute pain maintaining hair in these conditions far away from even the most basic of proper haircare products such as shampoo. All he had was murky water, what the military deemed to be soap, and his own brush from home. It really would be easier just to cut and be done with it, he could always grow it back. It's happened before... the thought of that particular instance bought a very nostalgic smirk to his face.
He stopped at the edge of Mustang's cot, his knees barely touching it and with that smirk growing wider asked, " What makes you think vanity has anything to do with it?"
Mustang simply snorted and was surely going to answer with a cutting and sarcastic remark but the words got caught in his throat as he noticed his bunk mate holding out his hairbrush to him in a gesture to take it. He looked up at Kimbley with a flat expression. " You're not serious."
The smirk, just grew wider and with a huff, Mustang took the brush and sat up dragging his legs over the side of the cot. Without waiting for the affirmative, Kimbley with all the swiftness and grace of a feline planted himself between the Flame alchemist's legs allowing just enough space for those deft fingers to reach the tips of his mane.
Much to Crimson's pleasure, Roy took a moment to comb his smooth digits through the long locks slightly massaging the scalp before replacing them with the article provided in smooth even strokes. Kimbley closed his sand colored eyes instantly melting into Roy's steady rhythm. The tent was silent save for the constant commotion outside, the domestic scene not at all matching it's setting in the middle of a war zone. It was a rare moment for both alchemists, one when they could completely phase out their current environment and such thoughts as raids, gunshots, and high strung superiors seemed like silly things worlds away.
" You know... I did have it cut once before."
" Oh? "
" Mmm, it was summer. I was twelve- I told you before my family owned a farm, and I had a habit of sleeping underneath this huge apple tree behind the fence to avoid work."
" Mmhmm, sounds about right."
" Shush, anyway happened that a couple of the hired hands, older boys from my school working for the summer thought it'd be fun to play a prank on the property owner's lazy son. They found my hiding place and one afternoon I woke up to my ponytail laid across my lap along with a pair of garden shears."
Roy couldn't help his amusement. " And after that?"
" Well, I had already suspected they were involved but one of them had a sister- nice girl had a bit of a crush on me, too mousy for my taste she was a pretty thing though- anyway, she came by later with a lemon cake to apologize for her brother. She even helped me trim it into a respectable hairstyle, must say I didn't look half bad."
" How short was it?"
" Longer than yours thank goodness, stopped just below my neck. The shortest I had ever had it since I was a toddler."
" Mm... so those boys got away it?"
" Well... my father scolded them but let them keep their jobs. 'Boys will be boys' and that sort of thing. I did manage some payback on my own though."
" Thought so. What did you do?"
One particular brush stroke down the middle of his scalp had the Crimson alchemist purring. " Well, since they cut off something of mine naturally, I cut off something of theirs."
He moaned softly when Mustang brushed that spot again and laid his head back so it was resting against his young comrade's chest. Hazel eyes fluttered open to meet the simply gorgeous onyx irises staring down at him with slight exasperation.
He continued, " Thinking back on it, I think they got the raw end of the deal... after all, I did get a cake and a cooler hairstyle for the hotter days out of it and well... my hair is at least something that can grow back."
Those pretty dark eyes furrowed for a moment in confusion... then soften in thought... hardened a bit in realization and finally, Kimbley was rewarded with their widening in absolute horror. His own tattooed palms went up to stroke the side of his so so pretty comrade's face and then went up to play with the short remnants of his bangs.
" You know... when this is all over, you should really wear your hair longer especially your bangs. You're way too pretty to have such short, boring hair. A face like yours needs something a lover can run their fingers through."
The words shook Roy out of his initial state of shock and he promptly got a little payback of his own as he none too gently dragged the brush through a tangled knot of hair earning a yelp from the man still nestled between his legs.
Even so, years later... long after the Ishvar campaign, when Kimbley once again met his old comrade he had the satisfaction of seeing for himself that Roy had indeed taken his advice.
Yay! It took me almost a year but I finally got another one done! *major facepalm* I'm going to try to get the next one out sooner. I really am. Not to mention there's my other neglected fics... *ugh* There's really no excuse for me being this lazy...
As always I love opinions therefore I love reviews so drop a line if you can.