Last week, in Don't Look Back, as you'll recall, Marshall and Lee stopped at a hair salon in San Antonio, and Lee apparently arranged for Marshall to "have the works." This week, see what that means! Don't forget to visit the other Briefers. Their links follow my tale. Enjoy!
“You have such beautiful red hair,” Carlisle commented. He
ran his fingers through Marshall’s locks. “So soft and supple. You treat it
well, I can tell. What do you use?”
“Just shampoo and conditioner. Whatever’s on sale.”
“Oh, that’s just criminal!” Carlisle tutted. “I’ll give you
some product before you leave. The same stuff I’m going to use on you today.”
Marshall cast a hopeful glance at Lee, but Lee was grinning,
and obviously had no intention of interfering in whatever was about to happen.
Probably since he’d orchestrated it to begin with.
“How long is your hair?” Carlisle continued. He turned
Marshall to look behind him and whistled. “All the way down to your perfect
ass. Oh honey, so beautiful.” He rotated Marshall once again, facing him. “Would
you be interested in donating ten inches of your pretty hair to Locks of Love?”
“What’s that?”
“An organization that helps kids who are sick and lose their
hair but can’t afford wigs. What do you think?”
Marshall never hesitated. “Then let’s do that.” Taking ten
inches would still leave him plenty of length, but he wondered how much. As if
the stylist could read his mind, he said, “I think it’ll still fall below your
shoulders.” That would work, Marshall decided.
“I’ll be right back, wait right here.” Carlisle floated off
and Lee took advantage of his absence to lean in and murmur in Marshall’s ear. “I’m
gonna pamper your ass ten ways to Sunday.” Marshall began to tingle, both at
his proximity and his words. Lee kissed his ear and stepped back, just as
Carlisle returned, a bright blue sheet in his hand.
“Let’s start by washing your hair, sweetheart. Right this
way. Lee, you’re welcome to come too, honey.” He led them to a small room, just
off the main one. It held four sinks and chairs, and a shelf filled with
various product.
Carlisle swept Marshall into one of the chairs and covered
him from the neck down with the plastic cover. “There. Don’t want to get hair
anywhere it shouldn’t be. Lean back here. That’s good.”
Marshall found himself with his head hanging into the sink,
but Carlisle quickly supported it with his hand. “You know, Lee, you two make a
lovely couple. I’m so jealous.”
Lee’s reply was drowned out by the water Carlisle suddenly aimed
into Marshall’s hair, over his ears. It felt good and warm. He gave in to the
sensation of floating, relaxing in Carlisle’s care as he massaged shampoo into
his scalp and hair, followed by conditioner. Carlisle’s fingers were strong,
yet gentle. He rinsed Marshall’s hair and sat him up, toweling his hair dry.
“Feel good?” the stylist asked, and Marshall replied, “Mmmhmmm,”
producing a chuckle from Lee.
“I wish I could find myself a cute Texas stud like you two,”
Carlisle commented, as he helped Marshall rise from the chair. “Where’d you
find this one, Lee?”
Marshall darted a quick glance at Lee, whose expression never
changed. Before he could respond, Carlisle pointed at the seat Marshall had
just vacated. “Plop those cute buns down there, Lee,” he instructed him.
Marshall enjoyed the momentary look of confusion on Lee’s
handsome face. This was obviously not on the agenda. “Why should I do that?”
Lee asked.
“Because I’m going to do you too,” Carlisle answered. “And
before you give me any lip, you have a cut coming. Marshall’s is free because
of his donation. ‘Sides, I just want an excuse to touch you too.” He winked,
and Marshall snickered.
“I don’t have Marshall’s length,” Lee protested, but
Carlisle waved his arguments aside and maneuvered him into the chair, with
Marshall’s help. Eventually, he gave in to their combined efforts.
“You don’t need a full cut,” Marshall agreed, “but a trim
wouldn’t hurt.” Lee’s hair was thick and black, luxurious to the touch, and he
wore it just below his ear. Long enough for Marshall to thread his fingers
through, and long enough to hold on to when he needed.
As Carlisle fetched a clean cover, Marshall took advantage
of his momentary absence to lean in and kiss Lee. “Thank you,” he murmured. Lee
returned his kiss, silencing them both. They pulled apart to find Carlisle
waiting patiently for them to be done.
“So jealous,” he repeated with a laugh, before he proceeded
to wash Lee’s hair.
Carlisle took care of them both, as he’d promised. He ended
up taking twelve inches off of Marshall’s length, which he bagged for Locks of
Love. Even so, his hair still fell below his shoulders, but it contained a
little more wave now. Looking to Lee for approval, Marshall read the answer in
his eyes. His heart warmed as he took in Lee’s appearance. Hot, as usual.
“Did you have him touch up your roots?” Marshall teased,
knowing damn well Lee’s hair color was all his own and not due to either Miss
Clairol or Grecian Formula. He heard Carlisle snicker, even as Lee shot him a
look, the one that said ‘you trying to test me, boy’?
Yeah, he was.
Lee didn’t reply, which was even more of a turn-on than any
smart remark he might have made. Oh yeah, Marshall was gonna get punished for
his smart mouth, no doubt about that.
He couldn’t wait.
They each got a manicure, although Lee protested he had no
use for something like that. But Marshall insisted, and once the perky little
manicurist began to work on Lee’s fingers, he even got into it. He drew the
line at a pedicure, but agreed to a couples massage, which left them both
relaxed and refreshed.
Lee paid the bill, and they received parting hugs from
Carlisle, promising to stop in again on their next trip, before heading back to
their room at the Crockett. Marshall was starved again.
“Dinner?” he asked hopefully, but Lee shook his head.
“Punishment first, then dinner.”
Hot damn.
to be continued
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