Take the Plunge

“Hey, babe, what do you want to do for dinner tonight?” Nick’s boyfriend, Ezra, leaned back against the arm of the couch, stretching out his leg to jab at Nick with his foot.

“Ew, cut it out.” Nick put his phone down and swatted Ezra away.

“I will if you pay attention.”

“I am paying attention. I don’t know what I want for dinner. You choose.” It was Friday, which meant takeout and movie night.

“You say that and then you don’t like what I choose. Give me a ballpark at least. Italian? Chinese?”

“I’m not that hungry. Anything’s fine, really. Isn’t it kind of early to be ordering?” Nick glanced at the wall clock, which read just after five.

“Never too early to make food-related plans.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Nick picked his phone back up and his focused turned the screen again. Ezra huffed impatiently. “Come on, Nicky. Put that thing away and pay attention to meeee.” He pushed himself up on his knees and crawled over to the other side of the couch to straddle Nick’s lap. This finally got the other man’s attention. “Hi.”

Nick dropped the phone again and wrapped his solid, strong arms around Ezra’s waist. “Hello,” he answered, sounding a little more reserved than his normal self.
“Long day at work?” Ezra asked, making a sympathetic face and tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. He laid his arms across Nick’s shoulders and leaned down to kiss his cheek.

Nick sighed, eyes fluttering closed. “Boss was kind of on my ass all day and the roads were so bad this morning. I wish I could work remote like you…at least hybrid. There’s no fucking point in me being in the office every day, but they make me do it anyway just to fill a cubicle. Ugh.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry.” Ezra laid a hand on Nick’s chest. “Anything I can do to cheer you up?”

Nick smiled slightly and pulled Ezra closer, earning a yelp out of him as he was thrown off balance. “Just seeing you cheers me up.”

Ezra returned the smile, and Nick watched it turn mischievous as Ezra’s hands found the buttons of his shirt and began undoing them deftly. Nick leaned back against the cushions, and Ezra angled himself forwards to press his lips to Nick’s. For a moment, Nick felt himself melt into the embrace, everything else fading away until it was just the two of them. Then Ezra brought his hand up to Nick’s hat and pulled it off, fingers threading in the hair on the side of his head, and a sharp twinge of unease made him pull away from his partner’s touch.

Ezra’s expression was all innocent confusion, which made Nick illogically annoyed. “Just…leave it, please,” he said, trying to school himself. There was no reason to get angry, he knew; he was acting nuts.

“Leave what? The hat? Nick, please, it’s just me and you. I want you to be comfortable.”

Nick was feeling unpleasantly exposed. He was pathological about wearing hats to cover the thinning curls on top of his head, especially in public. Even in his own apartment, he still felt more comfortable that way. Thinning was an understatement– there was very little left in the back, and the front was beginning to separate into a lonely, sad island of hair on his otherwise exposed top. He frowned, suddenly hyper-aware of his own body.

Ezra, sensing his boyfriend’s agitation, leaned forwards again, hand cupping the back of Nick’s head as he placed a kiss at his temple. The sensation set Nick’s spark of self-consciousness aflame, and he pushed Ezra back, extracting himself from underneath him so that he could move away. “Can you fucking stop that?”
Ezra looked like a kicked puppy, and Nick immediately felt like shit for kicking said puppy, which only pissed him off more. “Nick, please,” Ezra said. “I wish you’d take the freaking armor off sometimes. I’m not your enemy. I love you.”

When they had first met, six years ago, Nick hadn’t exactly had a full head of hair either, but it had been a lot easier to hide with styling. Once he’d hit the second or third stage, a few years back, he’d felt this urge to hide it from his partner– which was ridiculous, of course, he knew, because they fucking lived together– but he felt so different from the man he knew Ezra had fallen in love with, some days. He wasn’t a carefree club rat anymore. They were both pushing thirty, with boring corporate jobs and regular hobbies. The years had treated Ezra very well: his skin was in perfect condition, his face looked nearly the same, and his hair was still a gorgeous, thick chestnut mane that fell to his shoulders, impeccably wavy and shiny like he’d just stepped out of a shampoo commercial. Bastard. In comparison, Nick felt aged beyond his years, like some forty-five-year-old father of two with a horseshoe ring of hair.

“Look, you don’t have to humor me or whatever. It’s fine to acknowledge. Things aren’t the same as they used to be, and I’m not the same guy you met at the bar that night.”

“That’s a good thing, Nick. People are meant to change. I have loved you through every part of it. And when I say all of you, I mean it. I don’t care if you have a full head of hair or no hair or a rat on top of your head, as long as you’re Nick. Would you stop loving me if I like…didn’t have eyebrows or something?”

“What? No. I mean, maybe…” He cracked a weak smile.

Ezra shoved him with a laugh. “Dick.”

Nick stood up, turning to face his own reflection in the decorative mirror that hung on the wall behind the couch. He pulled a face and watched his own mouth move. As always, greeting him in the mirror, the collection of lint that he called hair. “I wish I could believe you, but I can’t. It’s not that I don’t trust you…”

“‘It’s not you, it’s me?'” Ezra quoted sardonically.

“I mean, yeah.” He broke eye contact with his reflection and looked back down at his beautiful boyfriend. “It’s honestly just really fucking humiliating, watching it go. Especially when I’m standing next to you.” He ran a hand delicately through Ezra’s thick hair, brushing it back off his shoulder. He was trying very hard to speak around the lump in his throat.”I hate that I get jealous, Ezra. I never want to have those feelings towards you, but it’s so difficult not to compare.”

Ezra stood up too, stepping forward to stand face-to-face with Nick, blocking the mirror. He took Nick’s hands in his own. “I’m glad you’re telling me all this. I wish I could wave a wand and fix everything for you. I wish you didn’t feel the need to compare yourself with me, or anyone else.” He kissed Nick on the cheek again, and this time Nick relaxed into the contact, shoulders dropping. He pressed his forehead to Ezra’s.

“You know what I think about all this, don’t you?” Ezra broke away to look Nick in the eye.

“Uh…no?”

“I’ve definitely brought it up before. You could just get it over with.”

Nick paused, parsing. “Wait– you mean shave it? You think I should go bald?

Ezra raised an eyebrow. “I mean…I feel like you’re making that sound like a much bigger step than it actually is. You’re like eighty percent there already.”

“Hey!” Nick yelped, knowing full well that Ezra was right.

“Come on, babe. Wouldn’t it feel good? Just to get some control back? I know you’re dreading that eventual possibility, but you’re just making yourself miserable by extending it into “eventual.” Just do it now. Let me do it.”

“You want to do it?” Nick’s hands flew to his head protectively.

“Absolutely no faith in me. You’re acting like I’m going to kill you. How hard can it be? I have clippers, I have a razor…It’s not that different from shaving, right? I do it every other day. Come onnnn,” he whined.

“Wait…” Nick stepped back, squinting suspiciously. “You’ve been planning this, haven’t you? You devious little fucker.”

Ezra didn’t have the decency to look guilty. “I just think it’ll help.”

“You really don’t care? You want a bald guy?”

This time, Ezra did blush. “…Yes, okay? I think you’ll look hot.” He bit his lip. “You keep acting like not having a full head of hair makes a guy untouchable.”
“It’s fine on other people, just not–“

“Not you? Really? Come on, babe. Don’t sell yourself short. Just trust me, ok?”

Nick groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “Oh, god. Am I really going to do this?”

“Yes. Right now.”

“Now?” Nick cried, but Ezra ignored him, grabbing his arm and dragging him towards the bathroom.

Ezra flicked the bathroom light on and began rummaging around in the cabinet under the sink. He made to stand up and banged his head against the lip of the cabinet. “Ow.”

Nick laughed. Ezra shoved a plastic box at Nick, frowning at him. “Hold this. I’ll be right back.” He disappeared back into the front room, and after a moment came back carrying their footstool, which was deposited on the floor in front of the sink. “Sit,” he commanded.”

“This is all moving very quickly,” Nick protested.

“Rip the bandaid off,” his boyfriend said cheerily, brandishing the clippers that he’d extracted from the plastic box. There was no guard on them. Nick gulped.
The clippers buzzed loudly to life, startling both of them. Ezra giggled. “Geez. Okay, you ready?” He laid a steadying hand on Nick’s shoulder. “Breathe, baby. You look like you’re about to jump off a cliff.”

“I kind of feel like I’m about to jump off a cliff. Wait– let me take my shirt off. I don’t want the hair all stuck in it.”

“I won’t complain about that,” Ezra replied, suggestively wiggling his brows as he flicked the clippers off.

Nick snorted and grabbed the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his head and baring the well-built chest that Ezra enjoyed ogling. Nick exhaled sharply, shaking his arms out, psyching himself up. He ran his hand one last time through his hair, and the obvious sparseness of it at the top helped assure him that he was making the right decision. It wasn’t going to come back, no matter how badly he wanted to. Better to just get it over with, like Ezra had said. “Okay. Ready.”

“Roger that,” Ezra said, revving up the clippers again and positioning them at the front of Nick’s receded hairline. Without fanfare, he drew them back, plowing a strip over his crown to the back of his head. Nick squeezed his eyes shut, suddenly not wanting to see himself until it was over.

The first few passes of the clippers set Nick’s heart pounding in his chest, but after a moment the steady rhythms and constant vibration started to feel sort of pleasant. He had expected it to take a while, but it was only a minute or two before he heard the buzzing stop and felt Ezra’s hand on the back of his neck, brushing away the bits of hair that had stuck to the skin. “That was fast.”

“There wasn’t much to get through,” Ezra teased. He put the machine down on the counter and brought both hands to Nick’s head, rubbing the prickly stubble left over. “Like sandpaper,” he commented. Nick said nothing; the touch felt good enough that it momentarily rendered him capable of only incomprehensible noises.

“You like that, huh?”

Nick nodded silently. He opened his eyes to glance down at the clumps of hair scattered around the footstool. It was more than he’d expected, now that he was seeing it detached from his head. A little thrill went through him: he’d really done it. It was gone. Well, not quite…

“We’re not done yet, cowboy.” Ezra withdrew from the medicine cabinet a fresh safety razor and a can of shaving cream. The sight of it sent a nervous tingle down his spine. A buzzcut was one thing, but cue-ball bald was entirely different. There was no way he was going to pull this off. His stomach twisted anxiously. It must have been obvious in his expression, because Ezra leaned over and placed a hand under Nick’s chin to turn Nick’s face to meet his. “Breathe,” he said again. “You’ll be fine,” he promised, and sealed it with a quick kiss. “Okay. Round two.”

Nick closed his eyes again as Ezra squirted the shaving cream into his hand and began spreading it over Nick’s head. The cool foam also felt unexpectedly good against his flushed skin. He sighed with pleasure, relaxing slightly into Ezra’s gentle hands. Then he felt the razor touch his forehead, lined up in the same place where the clippers had been, and squeezed his eyes shut as Ezra began to scrape away the last vestiges of his hair.

The razor shave took much longer. Ezra carefully navigated the increasingly naked curve of his skull, managing to mostly avoid nicking him except for one or two spots. Nick felt his fingers against the bare skin of the shaved stretches, guiding him to tilt his head this way or that. The sensation was unlike anything he had known before, and Nick was surprised by the tingling feeling of something like arousal building low in his belly in response. It was unlike the way Ezra’s hands had felt through the barrier of his hair; his scalp felt hyper-sensitive to the light touch of fingertips, to the cool air, to the glide of the razor. Halfway through the shave, he had already become flustered. It was almost too much, too fast. By the time Ezra placed the razor down on the counter, Nick was in near-crisis. What the fuck?

“Are you okay, baby?” Ezra’s voice brought him back down to earth somewhat. Ezra pulled out a clean hand towel from the cabinet and dried off Nick’s head, picking up any spots of shaving cream left over. Nick felt the fabric slide behind his ears and down the sensitive back of his neck.
Finally, it seemed like it was over. Ezra laid his hands on Nick’s scalp again, rubbing the newly-exposed skin. Nick bit his lip to stop himself from making an embarrassing noise. He felt his cheeks and ears flush with heat. Why was this turning him on? He had just officially gone bald. He was too freaked out for this.

“Are you gonna open your eyes at some point?” Ezra’s hands found Nick’s shoulders instead, squeezing gently.

Nick licked his lips nervously. “Um…will you look first?”

“I’ve been looking.”

“I mean properly. Wait.” Still squeezing his eyes shut, Nick stood on shaky legs and turned to face his partner, back facing the mirror over the sink. He sucked in a breath and opened his eyes, expecting to be met with antipathy. Instead, he found Ezra staring at him intensely, expression unreadable. His boyfriend’s eyes roved over him. “Shiiit,” he said.

Nick’s stomach did a backflip. “That bad, huh?” He asked, hoping his voice didn’t sound too pathetic.

“Just look for yourself,” was all Ezra replied.

There was literally nothing he wanted to do less, but he couldn’t go around avoiding his own face forever. After a moment’s hesitation, Nick turned to face the mirror.

There was an extended silence, and then he said: “Whoa.”

It was totally alien, shocking to see himself a different way after looking the same for years. But it wasn’t bad. At all.
“Whoa,” he said again. He slowly raised a hand up to feel his own bare head. It was smooth and warm, softer than he’d expected. His hair had been light enough that there wasn’t even a shadow left where it had once been.

It looked kind of good. Instead of the depressing bald spots, his attention went first to his eyes, which seemed a brighter green, and to his strong jaw, and his well-proportioned mouth. His brows framed his face pleasantly without the hair. He ran his hands all over his head and face, exploring like it was all entirely new. It felt like it was, in a way. “I look totally different. This is freaking crazy.”

He finally broke away from his reflection and looked back at Ezra, who had been watching him. Now Nick could tell: Ezra’s dark-eyed gaze was hungry and intense in a way that set Nick’s heart pounding.

Ezra hooked a finger through the belt loop of Nick’s jeans, pulling him closer. “You look fucking hot,” he said, low, against Nick’s neck as he brought his lips to the skin. One of his hands found the back of Nick’s head, like it had earlier on the couch, but the sensation was completely different from before. Nick gasped, tilting his head back into the touch and exposing the column of his neck to Ezra, who immediately took advantage. Ezra pulled away a moment later to give Nick another appraising look and a satisfied smile. “So, was I right or was I right?”

“You were right,” Nick admitted, mock-grudgingly.

“Fucking hot,” Ezra repeated. “You look better like this than you ever did with hair.”

“Seriously? I mean…I guess I never did have the greatest hair in the first place. I think it started going when I was like nineteen.”

“Seriously,” Ezra assured him, grasping Nick’s face between his hands. “I think that took ten years off you.”

“Are you saying I looked old?” Nick teased.

“I mean…people have asked me once or twice about the age gap.”

“We’re the same age.”

Ezra gave him a that’s the point look.

“Jesus. It was pretty bad, wasn’t it?”

“Not anymore,” Ezra murmured, pulling him in again for a searing kiss. This was the most electric things had felt between them for ages.

“It feels amazing. I can’t believe I was so scared,” Nick laughed, relief washing over him.

“I’m going to use this against you forever, you know. As evidence that I’m always right.” Ezra used the hand on the back of Nick’s head to guide him down, pressing his lips to Nick’s bare temple and feeling the shiver of pleasure it sent through his boyfriend.

“I don’t mind. You are always right,” Nick laughed.

“Don’t you forget it,” Ezra replied, grasping Nick’s wrist and heading for the bedroom, stepping over the piles of pale brown hair on the floor. “Come on. We can clean up later.”