((You thought I was done for the night? HA!))
Day 4:
Matt supposes he doesn't need an excuse to visit Brandon by now, but it's always good to have a reason to get close to him. That way Brandon seems to think it's coincidence they keep ending up in situations where Matt can get his tongue down his throat.
Earlier he whined to Mello that he needed a hair cut; Mello told him to cut it himself, and barring that, to get Brandon to do it. After Matt hugged Mello around the waist and told him how brilliant he was ("Damn right I am."), he went on a Brandon hunt.
Usually the kid is in the kitchen, but after braving the brightly-lit cafeteria hellwalk, he discovers it's one of the few times during the day he's not. Instead Matt gets glared at by two tough guys he doesn't recognize. Perhaps they are unimpressed by his pink hair, or maybe it's the polka dot dress he's wearing over a star-covered shirt, or the yellow capris under the dress. Could be the star-shaped green sunglasses or the lack of shoes? Most likely, it's the combination of all of them together with his strange appearance- he's painfully thin and fairly androgynous, not to mention everyone says his eyes are creepy as fuck, so it's no wonder strangers tend to stare. Whatever it is, they just sneer uncomfortably when he enters the kitchen, and he leaves without a word. Maybe they'll talk about him while he's gone. It's good for them they weren't stupid enough to insult him in any way to his face.
The common room is a likely spot as well, but Brandon isn't there either. That leaves his room as the last easy to guess location- Matt hopes like hell Brandon is there. Jumping him in his room is so much fun, and there's far less chance of interruption then.
Knocking is for sissies who value other people's personal space, and Matt's no sissy. He barges into Brandon's room, grinning when he spots his prey tapping away at his computer keyboard.
"Brando~~~~n," he sing-songs as he literally pounces like a hungry cat on a fat, limping mouse. Brandon looks up with shock from his computer screen-reverie to find Matt wrapping his arms tight around his shoulders and leaning over his head, bright pink hair hanging in his face. "Hiiii," he purrs, all cute smiles and flirty eyes, weapons Brandon has fallen under often.
"Oh- h-hi Matt, I didn't hear you come in. Sorry I'm not in the kitchen today I'm kind of- distracted-"
Distracted is right, and Matt makes sure Brandon is further distracted. Long fingernails are good for leaving trails of distraction as they skate down the front of Brandon's shirt. Just look at him shiver.
"It's all right, I'm just glad I found you here." He stands on his tiptoes and leans forward more, so his face is almost completely tilted in front of Brandon's now- upside down. "I need a hair cut. Will you do it for me?"
Brandon blinks, shrinking away from Matt's face, although with the change of Matt's position, he manages to bump the back of his head against Matt's groin before getting far. Smooth. Matt cocks an eyebrow with a suggestive smile and Brandon turns five different shades of red. "S-sure, uh, shit- I don't... I guess I have some scissors... Why exactly do you want me to do this and not somebody else?"
Matt goes back into a less monkey-like position so Brandon can get out of his computer chair. "Oh, I'd have to do it myself otherwise. I figure you're good with knives in the kitchen, you can probably cut a few straight lines. I don't even need it that straight, the hair's just starting to bug me, you know? I can use a razor on the bangs myself, that's all that matters to me."
"Ah- wait, do I need scissors? Do you want me to use a razor on the rest...?"
Matt pouts his lips in an expression he knows is both thoughtful and adorable. Brandon stares at his mouth with a look bordering on hunger in his eyes. Excellent. "You can do it with a razor if you can manage. I like it better that way. Here." Conveniently, he has one stashed in the pocket of his capris. Brandon stares further as Matt lifts up his dress casually to pull it out of said pocket. Matt knows the deep pit of Really Fucking Normal that Brandon is finds his strange clothing appealingly weird.
"Here," Matt says with a coy smile as he hands it over. He's flirtatious by nature, and when he's putting an effort into it... it's no surprise Brandon is eating out of his hand. Who's the dog here?
Brandon mouth drops in mortification when Matt starts to pull his dress off over his head, followed by his shirt. Skinny and pale as he is, Matt has a wiry set of muscles on him as well- try going to prison, see if there's anything interesting to do besides work out and whittle shanks, and you can only whittle so many shanks.
"Wh-what are you-"
"Don't want you to get hair on my clothes! Now come on, I'm sure you'll be fine at this." See this calming smile? It says to calm the fuck down and get over here. Now. Apparently Brandon's good at following commands, even non-verbal ones, because he moves over to Matt again and gently runs a hand through his hair. Matt makes a small, pleased sound in the back of his throat, and he can almost hear Brandon gulp like a cartoon character.
"Don't cut my ear off," he teases idly, feeling Brandon's hands hesitantly moving the sharp razor through the hair at the bottom of his neck. Brandon's movements are soft and gentle, and Matt makes all sorts of favorable sighs as fluffy balls of pink hair start to float past his shoulders. Undoubtedly his hair will be as uneven as before, but somewhat shorter.
It doesn't take long for Brandon to stop, or maybe it only feels like a very brief amount of time. Either way, the cutting ends without incident, and Brandon seems quite relieved to hand the blade back to Matt. "You can do the rest in my mirror, if you want. I'll just... sweep up the hair. It's not like you're cutting that much."
Matt shrugs and turns off the power button Brandon's computer monitor and starts to sweep the razor through his bangs with the reflection from the black screen to guide him. "I'm good right here." And clearly Matt is much better at this than Brandon, as he's done in about 3 minutes. There, all nice and raggedy at the right length.
He stands up suddenly, sliding the razor back into his pocket. "How do you think it looks?" he says as he turns and wraps his arms once again around Brandon's shoulders, although now that they're upright he has to stand on his toes to reach. He licks Brandon's cheek before he can answer, and when he gasps and blushes again, Matt smirks and says, "I'll take that as a yes."
This has been a very eventful series of days, and Brandon is cracking earlier than Matt expected. His cruel side (hint: it takes up more than one side of his sides) tells him to string his food-and-entertainment source along for another day or two, when things are going so well.
"I have to go, but maybe I'll see you in the kitchen later?" he says with a grin, sliding away from Brandon - who clearly does not want him to go, hell yeah, victory - and back to put his shirt and dress on again. "Ohhh, make me something with blue Jello in it, I dare you."
"A-all right," the Matt-struck Brandon gets out before he's left behind alone in a mixture of denied desire and scraps of hair.
Previously!
Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Next!
Day 5