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“What do you think?” Roman asked, stepping back to admire his handiwork. Virgil tentatively lifted their hand to the back of their head and ran their fingers through their hair, which Roman had cut short. Their smile widened, cheeks already hurting from the constant grin they had had on their face as Roman cut their hair, and they moved their hand faster, almost squealing with the sheer amount of joy they felt at feeling the short hair. Their hand moved up to the top of their head, fingers running through the longer strands, which fell gently onto their forehead. They raised their other hand to the back of their neck, which felt free after years of being covered by their old, much longer hair.
“I love it,” Virgil said, unable to tear their gaze away from the mirror, hands still running through their hair. Roman looked fondly at them, smiling at the sheer amount of joy in Virgil’s expression. Roman was familiar with that feeling of complete and utter joy at getting the haircut you always wanted, having cut off all his hair with some scissors when he was fourteen. He hadn’t done the best job, and his mother had reluctantly dragged him to the hairdressers to get it neatened up (after yelling at him for almost an hour - needless to say, Roman was thrilled to move out), but the sheer amount of euphoria he had received at being able to look in the mirror and see himself in the reflection had topped any amount of yelling he got.
That joy was partially what had motivated him to train to become a hairdresser. It was his dream to open a queer hairdressing shop, to be able to provide that same joy for other queer people. Hair was often a huge part of self-expression, especially for queer people, and it was quite hard to get the haircut you wanted when most of the hairdressing places were so gendered, but he wanted to be able to provide a gender-neutral place for people to get the exact type of hairstyle they wanted. He was so close to achieving his dream too, having almost finishing all his training. Regardless, it had taken Roman hours to convince Virgil to let him anywhere near their hair, mostly because of their anxiety, but judging by the look on their face, it had been worth it.
Roman swept up the hair on the bathroom floor and put it in the bin. He let out a small laugh when he looked up and saw that Virgil was still admiring themself in the mirror. He came up and hugged them from behind, wrapping his arms around Virgil’s waist and resting his head on their shoulder.
“I take it you like it then?” Virgil let out a light laugh, finally dragging their eyes away from their reflection to look at their boyfriend. Virgil leaned their head back slightly, planted a kiss on Roman’s cheek and smiled. “I love it so much, thank you,” they said.
“No problem my love,” Roman said, kissing Virgil’s cheek and pulling away. “I will go make a start on dinner, so maybe try and pry yourself away from your reflection before then.”
“As if you don’t spend hours looking at yourself every day, fixing your hair and doing your makeup!”
“Well how else do you think I look this good? This takes time, and after all, I am not the only one. Do you know how long it takes for you to put on your eyeliner?”
“Well as you said, Princey, looking this good takes time.”
“Well, I must say, you do look very good,” Roman said, taking a step closer to Virgil.
“Oh, you think so?” Virgil asked, raising their eyebrow and smiling up at Roman.
“I know so. Especially with that wonderful new haircut. Whoever your hairdresser was did an excellent job.”
Virgil gave a small laugh and drew Roman in for a kiss, wrapping their arms around his neck and pulling him close. The kiss was short and sweet, and like every other kiss in their relationship, it was wonderful. They broke apart, both of them smiling widely. Roman pressed a kiss to Virgil’s forehead, giving them a quick hug, before pulling away and moving towards the kitchen to go make a start on dinner.
Virgil looked back towards the mirror and their hands once again moved towards their hair, still barely able to get over how good it felt to have short hair. They had no idea what they had done to deserve such a wonderful, talented, amazing boyfriend, but they wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world. They knew it would be a long time before they stopped smiling and touching their hair, which of course they didn’t mind in the slightest because the amount of joy and gender euphoria they received from just looking at their new haircut was more than anything they had ever felt in their life.