DAMN YOUR KISS; ryden

Chapter Twenty: That's When You St-St-Stutter Something Profound

"Uh ... Are you ... You really sure about this?"

"Uh huh!"

"No. But. Like ... Really sure?"

"One hundred and nine percent sure! Damn it, Brendon, hold still."

At that, Brendon clamped his mouth shut of any further 'are you sure's?', and tried to stay as motionless as possible as Z tilted his head at every angle, looking at him with an intense concentration, lips puckered, frowning. Somehow, the small woman had convinced him that for his 'date', he'd need a haircut. By her. Which Brendon couldn't help but be very apprehensive about...

She suddenly let go of his face and snapped her fingers, face brightening with a big grin. "I've got it!" She declared, then whirled around and reached for a pair of scissors she happened to have in her suitcase. Yeah, happened.

"Whoa!" Brendon couldn't help but to gasp, eyes going wide and fearful at the sight of the pixie like girl brandishing the potential weapon with a grin that could be taken as unsettling.

"What?" Z demanded, putting a hand on one hip and cocking an eyebrow. Daring him to object.

"I... Might get hair on my shirt." He finished lamely, unable to say no to Z when she both held a sharp and pointy object, and when she'd offered him possibly the best solution to his Ryan dilemma.

"You're right." She nodded efficiently, before going over to one of the hotel pillowcases stacked neatly beside the bed, fanning it out, and proceeding to cut a large hole in the middle.

Brendon was so beyond being shocked and telling her no.

She also pulled out a disposable electric razor, and plugged them in. "Now sit perfectly still, or I'll cut one of your ears right off." She said in a sing song, teasing voice. Not that Brendon was going to call her bluff on that one.

His heart sped up as the buzz began in the razor, and he couldn't help but to tense visibly as the cool metal blades touched the side of his head. There was a brief swishing feeling, and then ... then a sizable chunk of his dark hair landed on his shoulder, soft as a feather. Oh, Jesus. He forced himself not to twist his head to look at it, and instead screwed his eyes shut, wishing his brain would distract him in some way, any way, just to take his mind off of whatever Z was doing to his head...

Brendon was damned lucky that he had a wonderfully hyperactive brain, because it wasn't long before the buzz and swoosh of the razor became less unsettling, and he was able to think, as always, a million different thoughts all at once. However, there was one that stood out the most to him...

Am I gay?

No. Because ... because I think boobs are fantastic. And not just in the 'great to look at way'. All around, they are a blessed body part. And I like sleeping with girls and kissing girls.

So I'm straight.

No... I can't be. Because I liked kissing Ryan. I liked him kissing him a whole fucking bunch. I liked sleeping with him, too. I can't lie. I've looked at other guys in that way before. Imagined doing that with them.

So

"Z?" he asked, just as she turned the razor off, set it down and picked the scissors back up. He still didn't dare look at the fluffy tufts of his shorn hair lying around him just yet.

"Brendon?" she said, almost like a retort.

Wow, no wonder she and Ryan were friends. Z was a stranger, female counterpart to him.

"I like girls," he said, and paused. He almost wanted to look at the expression on her face, but he forced himself to keep his eyes closed. "But ... I like boys."

He waited ... well, he didn't know what reaction he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't her shrugging and saying "Ok."

"Ok?"

"Yeah," she said, and repeated her "Ok."

"Just ... ok?"

Z couldn't help but to smirk, and suppressed a giggle, fluffing her hand through his remaining hair, holding it on end in order to cleanly snip the ends. "Yeah, just ok. You're bi, so what."

Brendon was beginning to feel like a parrot as he repeated a shocked, almost quizzical "Bi?"

"Yes, Brendon. Bi. Bisexual. You are bisexual. You literally just gave me the definition, and admitted it to yourself... even though it was pretty obvious."

I'm... bisexual? Bi ...

"Yeah," Brendon said softly, and he felt a smile pull his lips up, ever so slightly. "I'm ... I'm bisexual."

Z threw her arms up and whooped. "Ok, now that we've cracked the case of your obvious sexuality... would you like to see your new hair?"

"...No..."

"Sure you do!" she cried, hands already dusting the hair away from his shoulders. "Now open your eyes."

And he did.

And he gasped in shock.

It was ... it was something.

He carefully touched his hand up to the sides, shaved away and stubbled, the hair sitting atop in a quirky little quiff. "Z, what have you done?"

The big, expectant grin on her face wavered as he said those words slowly, carefully. "You don't like it?"

Brendon's face transformed into one of wonder, and he stood up, giving her a wide grin. "I love it." He said, as he threw his arms around her. The embrace was as strange for her as it was for him, but it lasted a solid minute, before he pulled away - keeping a hold of her shoulders - face serious and unsure again as he asked "But will Ryan like it?"

"Of course he will." Z said firmly, before shooting him an infectiously devious grin, and holding up the scissors still in her hand. "And if not..."

Brendon couldn't help but to laugh at that.

He was really starting to like this odd girl.