Chapter Text
“Sometimes I consider cutting it all off.”
Linda’s hands stilled, and she shot an incredulous look at Brenda in the mirror. “Don’t you dare,” she warned. In one hand, she held a wide-tooth comb, the other gripped coconut-oil infused wet curls. She was horrified at the mere prospect of Brenda’s suggestion.
Brenda winked at her. A hand reached back to pull the blonde’s towel-wrapped body closer to her own. “I didn’t say that I’d actually do it, just that I was considering it,” she teased.
Linda continued her work of gliding the comb through the recently washed and tamed mane in front of her. She helped herself to another squirt of coconut oil, applying it to a new section of hair before working the comb through it.
“But, I am tempted, on days for example when I have to do this all on my own,” Brenda continued, pouting for dramatic effect.
Linda tugged slightly at the clump of hair in her hands. It only spurred Brenda, a perpetual shit-disturber, on.
“Might book an appointment at the salon this week actually.”
Linda glared at the brunette. “Brenda,” she huffed, “I swear, if you come back with anything more than a few inches missing-!”
Brenda leaned her head back against Linda’s shoulder and laughed. “Uh oh, don’t tell me that’ll be grounds for a divorce.”
Linda’s nostrils flared. She shoved Brenda forward and resumed her detangling and deep conditioning of her spouse’s wet spirals. “Your hair is gorgeous . I like doing this for you. Even if it means that I have to wake up earlier than I’d like to. So, if you ever want a repeat of what we just did in the shower, you will keep these gorgeous curls of yours.”
“Yes, dear.”
Linda reached for the curl defining cream and worked a few pumps’ worth into Brenda’s hair, scrunching and defining the spirals perfectly.
“How is it that you are better at styling curly hair than I am?” Brenda laughed. “I never could quite figure it out.”
Linda rolled her eyes. “I might have had a perm when I was in my twenties,” she mumbled embarrassedly.
“What?! Wait. How did I not know this?” Brenda turned around and looked down at the blushing blonde. “Please tell me that you have photos,” she begged, scrunching her eyes, trying to imagine Linda’s sleek locks holding any sort of curl.
Linda washed her hands and dried them on the towel around her waist. “Absolutely not,” she said. She handed Brenda the hair dryer and diffuser attachment. “I take it that you’ve got it from here?”
Brenda took the offering, and flipped her head to the side to capture her long tresses in the dome-shaped attachment. “I bet if I ring your mum, she’d have photos,” Brenda said over the buzzing of the hairdryer.
“Brenda, don’t.”
“Oh come on, actually I promised I’d ring her today. I’m gonna ask,” she said gleefully. Linda shot her a glare. “What? You’ve seen all my baby photos, Linda. Or do you not remember how you spent the first visit at my parents’ house?”
“Your mother had those on standby, which I to this day, do not understand.”
“Fucking Greek immigrant thing,” Brenda said.
“Well, my mother hasn’t had reason to dig up her old albums in decades. They’re all hidden away in the attic, I don’t need her breaking a hip trying to get them for you,” Linda reasoned as she combed her hair.
“I bet you were smokin’ hot.”
Linda shook her head amusedly. “I was definitely your type of girl,” she admitted.
“You still are,” Brenda said, throwing a wink Linda’s way.
Linda unwrapped the towel and reached for a bottle of moisturizer. She bent down, smoothing the creamy liquid into her sun-kissed limbs as Brenda watched, dumbfounded. As she moved up her stomach to rub the lotion into her chest, she caught Brenda staring, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. “You just got laid,” Linda laughed. She pointed to the shower. “Not twenty minutes ago. In there. You woke me up extra early just so we could have time to fool around.”
Brenda shrugged as she moved the diffuser to the other side of her head. “And?”
“You’re insatiable.”
“You’re hot.”
“Brenda-”
“C’mon. Another quickie? Just let me play with your tits a bit.”
“I have to go to work, Brenda. You know, that thing that you don’t have to worry about today?” she reminded her. Linda reached for her makeup bag, brushing a quick double coat of mascara on her lashes and dabbing a bit of concealer under her eyes.
“Kids will survive without you for a day, yeah?” Brenda tried.
Linda returned the cosmetics to the bag and regarded her pouting wife. “But we just washed your hair this morning, and we both know how tangled up it gets when I let you have your wicked way,” she tutted. She bent over to land a peck on Brenda’s pout. “Love you, I’ve got to run.”
Brenda eyed the curvy rear end of the blonde as she disappeared into their bedroom to get dressed. Huffing, Brenda shifted the dryer once more, settling in for the arduous task of drying her thick mane.