VV: Jeff/Shan, brush

Promise of the Future

“Ye know ye’ll be havin’ to cut your hair before ye go to the Academy, right, boyo?”

His mouth full, Shannon looked up from his dinner at the light touch on his head.  His mum stood behind him, holding her empty plate in one hand, while the other gently stroked the long locks of his black hair where they curled over one skinny shoulder.  She looked—well, not upset, Shannon thought, his own brow wrinkling to mimic his mother’s, but . . . a bit unhappy.  Discontent.

He swallowed to clear his mouth before replying.  “Aye, Mum, I know.”  He, too, reached up to finger his hair, frowning slightly.

A few years ago, after a history lesson, he had been inspired to do a little extra research into his own ancient culture.  Some clans had worn their hair long, and had braided it back or wrapped it with leather.  They called it a club.  The pictures of those long-dead warriors had sparked something in him—their fierce pride, their prowess in battle, the tales surrounding them had given him a feeling of kinship, a feeling of belonging to his own past, something that he’d never really felt before.

Teenage rebellion, a wish to invest himself with just a portion of that old glamour and strength—the reasons why were as many as they were unfocused.  But he had decided to grow out his hair.  Once it had been long enough, he’d braided it into a border club, and since then, it was rare that he wore it any other way.  He’d loosened it when he’d taken a shower after a particularly muddy rugby match, and hadn’t put it back up again afterwards.

He twined a strand around his fingers, marveling at how much it had grown in the past couple years.  Loose, it hung down in his eyes, it flowed over his shoulders, hanging halfway down his back, looking as long as a girl’s.

He started when his mother’s warm fingers left off combing through the waves of his hair.  “I’ll miss it,” she said, even as she hurriedly retreated to the kitchen.  “Even though it took some getting used to at first, I’ll miss it, Shan.”

Hastily, Shannon drank the rest of his milk, though he found it hard to swallow past the lump in his throat, and stood up to follow her into the kitchen.  Yes, it had taken her a while to get used to the wavy length of it, especially when he’d worn it cut so short before.  But he didn’t think for a moment that it was really just his hair that she was talking about.

“Mum, I…” He stopped short.  His mum turned away as he entered, and as he stood staring at her back, he saw her shoulders shake.  “Mum?”

“Nay, Shan.”  She shook her head in response to his slightly-worried tone.  “’Tis just… time passes too fast, that’s all.”  She reached up to wipe her face, but she didn’t face him.

Shannon put down his plate and glass on the counter and embraced her from behind, not a little awkwardly.  “Mum, it’s still weeks before I leave,” he said quietly.  He was a head taller than she, and leaned forward slightly to rest his chin on her shoulder.  “An’ I’ll be back f’r Christmas an’ all...”

He so hated to see his mum upset.  After his da and his little sister… well, he was all she had.  And seeing her like this made him feel horribly guilty, because he knew that she wanted him to follow his dream… even though it meant she would have no one for a long time.

“Aye, I know.” At last she turned and gave him a wavering smile, laying her hands along his cheeks.  “You’re a good boy, Shan,” she said softly.  “So smile for me, boyo… there we go,” she said, as Shannon managed a smile to mirror hers. “You’ll do fine, and you needn’t worry about your ol’ mum.  I’ll do fine, too.”

“Yes, Mum.”

“And… when you do cut your hair,” she said, her fingers straying from his cheek to capture a few strands that hung by his ear, “please save me a lock or two.”

Shannon closed his eyes, smiling a bit more.  “Sentimental, aren’t we?”

“Hush, you.  I’ll be sentimental if I want to.” She released him then.  “Go on to your room, then, and study,” she said, almost briskly, turning away and starting the water in the sink.  “I’ll do the washing up tonight.”

Confused, Shannon began, “But…”

“No buts.  Go on, now.”  She looked over her shoulder, and her smile was almost as bright as he was used to seeing.  “Studyin’ is what’s important.”  She made a shooing motion with one hand.

He nodded, a bit reluctant to let his mother do what was rightfully his chore.  But he left anyway, because she had a temper when she was angry, and he kind of thought she wanted to be upset without him around to see.

He went back to his room as she’d told him, but it was a long while before he cracked a book.  He stared at the stack of texts on the rickety old table that served as his desk, then ignored them to lean forward on his elbows and run his fingers through his hair.

For as long as he could remember, he’d wanted to go into space, to pilot a fighter, to have the chance at adventure that so rarely came along to those earthbound.  And ever since he’d been old enough to reason it out, he’d understood; his desire to fly had meant he’d have to attend the Space Academy and join Galaxy Garrison.  As he’d grown, he’d come to see that it meant he’d have to be able to curb his temper, he’d have to have discipline, he’d have to be able to accept another’s authority.

He wasn’t very good with any of that; he never had been.

Just look at my hair… Hasn’t been cut in at least three years…

Shannon lifted his head, watching his hand as he twined a few strands around his fingers, as his mother had done.

Then his chin firmed; if his mother had seen him, she would have said it was his fightin’ look, the one he always got before tussling with someone.  With the ease of long practice, he braided his hair and tied it off, feeling the familiar weight of it – pulling at his scalp, thumping against his back – as he searched for the scissors.

I can do that, he thought fiercely.  I got discipline.  I can follow orders.  I can do anything to become a pilot.

He really had to saw with the scissors to get them to cut the thick rope of his braid, but at last he had done it.  Some longer strands fell freely about his face, and he knew he’d have to make a trip to the barber shop to get it straightened out.

Mum ain’t gonna be alone for nothing.  I’m gonna be a pilot.

Before it could unravel too much, he tied off the severed end of his braid, letting the weight of it fill his hands before he set it aside.  He knew his mother would probably cry over it later, but right now, he felt a bit lighter about going to the Academy… and it was more than just the loss of his hair.

A few minutes later, though, after blowing and scraping the tickling strands of hair out of his face for the fifth time in as many minutes, he was wishing he’d left dramatic gestures until after he’d finished studying.

***

Because his father was Vice-Admiral, Jeff knew how cadets were expected to comport themselves when they started at the Academy.  Of course he knew, and of course he was expected to be the best.

He didn’t mind, though, because if there was one thing he wanted more than to make his father proud, it was to become a space pilot.

“You’re going to be starting at the Academy soon, son,” his father had said, and smiled, making the wrinkles around his eyes even more pronounced.  Then he laid a hand on Jeff’s shoulder, squeezing a bit.  “When I was there… it was one of the best times of my life.”

And the warmth in his father’s voice puzzled him.  He was convinced that his father was telling the truth, but Jeff just couldn’t see how that could be the case.

He’d been to the Academy every year, when his father welcomed the incoming cadets, and he’d only ever seen them on their best behavior.  Once he was there, though, once he was one of them, Jeff was a little shocked to see how the other cadets in his class actually did behave.  When the professors weren’t looking, and there were no older students around, they were wild and rude.  And it was that, as much as anything else, that drew his attention in particular to just one of his fellows.

The boy was about Jeff’s own height, and perhaps a bit more slightly built.  His hair about the same shade of midnight, but cropped short, close to his head, and he sometimes moved like he expected it to be a lot longer – brushing the imaginary length aside so he wouldn’t sit upon it – or like his head was too light.

Whenever he was around, Jeff found his eyes drawn to him.  He seemed to be as serious and studious as he was, but from time to time, he saw the boy watching the rowdy antics of the others, and knew he wanted to join in.

I think I want to, too, Jeff thought, and was surprised at the wistful words.

As one football match on the Quadrangle took a turn toward the rough and grass-stained, Jeff grabbed his courage in both hands and sat down next to the boy he’d been observing.  “Do you think they’d let us join?”

The other boy jumped at the sound of his voice, and looked at him in surprise, blue-green eyes wide.  “Aye… they might.  But I’ve never played before.”  Then he grinned, bright and easy, and Jeff felt his heart give a strange little double beat.  “Now, if ‘twas football or, better still, rugby, ‘twould be a right drubbin’ they’d be gettin’.”

The lilt of the other boy’s accent filled Jeff’s head, and it took a moment for his actual words to register.  He frowned.  “But… that is football.”

The boy watched the game a moment.  “Oh!  American football.” He laughed, and Jeff was completely taken by the sound.  “No, I mean real football… what-do-you-call-it here… soccer!”

“You play soccer?” Jeff asked, and he couldn’t disguise the eagerness in his tone.  “That’s great!  So do I!  We could have a real good match…” He grinned and stuck out his hand.  “I’m Jeff, by the way.”

The other boy grinned back.  “Shannon, but you can call me Shan.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jeff said, more out of ingrained courtesy than because he was really thinking about it, then glanced back out to the quad.  “Want to see if they’re willing to tackle some soccer instead?”

Shannon rolled his eyes.  “If ye’re gonna be punnin’ like that, I’m thinkin’ they’ll be runnin’ the other way.”  But he closed the book he’d been holding on his lap, and stood, stretching a bit as he did.  “I’m ready to show ‘em how to play a contact sport if you are,” he said, and one dark brow arched as he grinned.

Jeff nodded, returning his grin, and together, they called out to their classmates on the quad.

The game was hard fought, and Jeff felt the aches for the next few days, but the team that he and Shannon had been on had won, 2-1.

***

While time had dragged at first, Shannon found that it suddenly started to fly.  Those days that he spent without Jeff’s company were the ones that seemed to pass too slowly.

So he hoped he could be forgiven for the way that Christmas had suddenly snuck up on him.  Didn’t the semester only start just a couple weeks ago?  It ain’t been that long, has it?

But the stack of letters on his desk from his mum told a different story.  He’d written her faithfully every week, and she’d written him back.  The sheer number of envelopes – not to mention the postmark dates on them – told the truth.

So it was that he was packing some things in his duffel bag, preparing for the flight home.

Jeff sat upon the second bed – Shannon’s roommate hadn’t made the grades necessary to stay in the Academy after first term finals, and had been sent home – and watched him.  Shannon could feel the other cadet’s eyes follow him as he moved around.  When he passed the mirror, he could see the slightly stunned expression Jeff wore, and the sight of it made him… feel strange. Like something was sitting heavy on his stomach.

“Do you… I mean…”

“I promised me mum,” Shannon interrupted, and he was surprised at how… stern he sounded, as if he were channeling Professor Milton at his most disapproving.  “I told her I’d be home for Christmas, and I’m gonna be.”

In the mirror, Jeff slumped, looking down at the floor.  “I just… I thought…”

Shannon sighed, instantly regretting his tone.  “I know,” he said, his voice soft.  “And it’s glad I am that you offered… but yer da has got yer mum an’ yer brother.  Me mum’s only got me.  An’ I miss her.”  He sat down on the bed and bumped Jeff’s shoulder with his own, trying to cheer him.  “Maybe it’d be better if ‘twas you who came home with me.”

Jeff shook his head, still staring at his boots.  “Mother and Father are expecting me.”

“I’m not sayin’ now,” Shannon said, shaking his head.  “I’m sayin’… next break.  If you want, rather than stayin’ here or goin’ home, you could come visit with me an’ Mum.”  He wasn’t quite sure why he offered, or why the world seemed a little brighter when he did.  ‘Cept I’ve never seen Jeff so upset.

The words had hardly left his mouth when Jeff looked up, his expression hopeful.  “You think… that it would be all right?”

He smiled and nodded.  “Sure.  Mum’s been asking about you, an’ I’m thinkin’ she’d be happy for you to come stay.”

Jeff’s grin was blinding, and Shannon felt his stomach settle at the sight.

“You already done packing?”

Shannon tracked Jeff’s gaze to the half-full duffel, and shrugged.  “Not much I need to take, really.”  Then he looked at the clock on his dresser and sighed.  “’Sides, I gotta be at the ‘port at oh-six-hundred.  If I needed to take more’n one bag, I’d likely forget it as I stumbled out the door.”

Jeff snorted and lay back on the bed.  “Yeah, right.  The guy who can recite ballistics equations from memory would forget a bag.”

Shannon grinned, then lay back beside him, swiping absently at the nape of his neck as he did so.

“You haven’t done that in a while,” Jeff noted.

“Done what?”  When Shannon glanced over, Jeff’s dark eyes were appraising.

“That…” Jeff made a motion in the air.  “Like something was on the back of your neck, or like you were pushing hair out of the way… something like that, anyway.”

“Huh.” Shannon turned away, focusing on the ceiling.  “Guess some habits die hard.”

“Habit?”

Shannon smiled and closed his eyes.  “Yeah.  For a few years, I wore my hair long.”

“How long?”

“Really long.”

Jeff nudged him.  “No, really, how long?”

“’Least halfway down my back for a couple years.  Most of the time, though, I wore it in a braid.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

He felt the mattress shift as Jeff moved beside him.  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Shannon’s grin widened at the uncertainty in his tone.  “It’s the truth.  Mum’s got pictures.”

There was silence for a moment.  “Okay, you do know that after a statement like that, I’m going to have to see it to believe it, right?”

Shannon laughed out loud and opened his eyes to look over at Jeff.  “I’m wounded you don’t believe me!”

Jeff looked petulant, which was really quite a feat for someone who was used to the concept of taking orders.  “After that story about the Blarney Stone and your seven crazed uncles, I’m not going to take anything you say without proof.”

Shannon only laughed harder.

***

It wasn’t very often, Jeff mused, that Shannon was still, that he was at rest.

This was one of those rare times.

Somehow, Jeff had managed to coax him into lying down on the bed.  He was pretty sure it was the stress of finals, or maybe just the fact that karate practice was longer and more difficult today, but it hadn’t taken long for Shannon to fall asleep.

Because Shannon’s roommate had only survived for a term, Jeff had petitioned for a room change, stating – and quite reasonably, he thought – that it was unnecessary for a first-year cadet to have a single room, even if he was the Vice-Admiral’s son.  Shannon was understandably surprised when he’d returned from Christmas break and discovered that Jeff had moved most of his belongings in.

It was when Shan had showed him the pictures of him with long hair – both braided and loose – that Jeff started to realize what was happening.

He’s so cute! had been his first thought.  Shortly on the heels of that had come another, even more shocking thought.  I think I love him.  He’d been so rocked by that moment of enlightenment that he had barely been able to respond to Shan’s questions about how his Christmas had been, hadn’t been able to sleep that night, hadn’t been able to concentrate in class the next day.

In the weeks since then, he’d simply accepted it as the truth, dropped the I think part of that thought, and just kind of… basked in Shan’s presence, enjoying it as much as he could without trying to let on that he wanted more.

He knew that part of him should have been appalled at himself, disappointed that he was so attracted to another man, but he just didn’t.  He was happy, complete when he was around Shannon, no matter if they were trouncing their classmates at soccer or studying quietly in the library.

Or even if we’re doing not much of anything in our quarters, Jeff thought a bit wryly.  Which would probably be why I’m just watching him sleep.

He couldn’t even remember when he’d left his desk, or settling on the floor beside Shan’s bunk.  Shannon breathed softly, lying on his side, one hand curled up beneath his cheek.  His hair was longer, Jeff noticed, feathering down over his brow and tickling his earlobe, and he was surprised his hand didn’t tremble when he reached out to brush it back.

With a soft noise of contentment, Shan nuzzled into his touch, surprising him.  When Jeff jerked his hand away, he pouted slightly in his sleep, then burrowed back into the pillow.

The curve of his lips drew Jeff’s attention immediately, the tempting way they were pursed. Almost as if he’s expecting a kiss, he thought dazedly, staring.  A strange, kind of reckless feeling filled him, and he leaned forward slowly.  Maybe he was just dreaming, but it seemed like he liked it when I touched him, he rationalized, his mind churning in time with his rapid heartbeat.  And he’s asleep now, and this might be the only time…

Then his lips met Shan’s, one brief touch, and then he pulled away.

Only to be met with Shan’s dancing sea blue eyes.  “I was wonderin’ when you were gonna do that,” he said, and the expression he wore could only be called a smirk.  “Took ya long enough.”

***

Shan shifted a little, and smiled at the warmth of the body spooned behind him in the narrow bunk.  One of Jeff’s arms was beneath him, curled around his chest.  He could feel the other threading carefully through his hair.

“Still awake?” he managed around a yawn.

“Yeah.”

They lay in comfortable silence for some minutes.  Shannon was just drifting back to sleep when he heard Jeff murmur, “I’d like to see you with long hair again.”

Shannon smiled and pressed back against him, his hand closing over Jeff’s where it rested on his chest.  “When we’re not bound by regs anymore,” he promised sleepily. “I’ll grow it out then.”

Jeff stopped his gentle combing and kissed the back of his neck.  “Sounds good.”

“”m expectin’ you to brush it for me.”

The chuckle against the back of his neck hummed through him, and he sighed happily.  Jeff’s whispered “Promise” accompanied him as sleep claimed him once more.

***
April 21, 2007
© randi (K. Shepard), 2007