Girl
by Helen
He did it even though he knew it was lame, some lame thing some girl would do, some totally melodramatic shit, but he didn't much care anymore, and Joey had loved his hair. It had only been a buddy fuck thing, Joey after a concert one time, sliding a familiar hand across his ass and smiling at him.
"You're pretty cute," he said, and Justin had laughed, couldn't help it, and they'd ended up making out back at the hotel, Joey holding him, pulling his t-shirt off over his head, rubbing his hands down Justin's back, and they hadn't done much beyond groping each other, Joey's knowing hand between his legs, and when they saw each other for the next few days, Joey had a secret smile for him, one that he liked so much that he knocked on his hotel room door a week later and they made out some more. It was cold, upstate New York, and they kissed and watched a Three's Company re-run, and Joey told him about the last girl he'd done, voice slowing down, getting deeper, kissing Justin's neck in between sentences, but they fell asleep before they did anything big.
The next time, he'd put his hand in Joey's pants, waiting for him to say no. He hadn't, only pulled Justin tighter to him, and it had been exciting and comforting at the same time, Joey finally shoving him over on his back and thrusting against his stomach, one hand next to his head, grunting heavily in his ear, and when they were done, he smiled, and kissed Justin's cheek, and let him stay for the rest of the night.
It didn't happen that often. Sometimes they went for a couple months, and sometimes they'd have a week where they sucked each other off after every concert, and it was then that he noticed that Joey really liked his hair, petting it, smoothing his hands through it, making it crazy and puffy,
"You can pull on it," Justin finally blurted one day, "y'know. If you're into that." And Joey had slid a hand into his hair and tugged gently, mouth hovering close to Justin's, and when Justin swallowed, and gasped, and kissed him, pressing greedily against him, he'd pulled harder, yanking Justin's head back and kissing him roughly, shoving him down on the bed, one hand still in his hair.
"am I hurting you," he asked.
"yeah," Justin choked, licking his lips. "don't stop."
They didn't fuck much, because Joey thought it was kind of a hassle. He did it the first time on Justin's birthday, waiting in his room after the party, both of them making bad jokes about birthday gifts as they undressed each other. Joey would do it if he asked, but Justin felt embarrassed asking, so he confined it to holidays, and not every holiday either. They fucked on President's Day and on Ash Wednesday, the dark smudge still on Joey's forehead from the service that morning.
There was Britney, of course. Britney was a lot more fun than he remembered her being when they were twelve, and it wasn't just the sex, either. Amazing, fun sex, Britney pinning him to the couch and saying "You wanna do it, boy?"
"Oh boy," she sighed, once, afterwards, wrapping an arm over his chest. "I'm kind of starting to like you."
"Is that bad," he'd said.
"I don't know," she said, and then she'd smiled, a scared, rueful, happy smile, and he'd known exactly what she meant. He thought maybe he loved her.
It wasn't like cheating, though, because it was just Joey, and they were just friends, and it didn't happen that often, and then it was mostly just kissing, anyway. Once he'd traded places with Lance on the two person bus, and he and Joey had made out for hours, shirts off, pants unbuttoned, Joey's hands stroking over his hair and down his back, until he felt drugged by it, hypnotized by Joey's deliberate kisses, the warmth of his body.
And it had really surprised him when Joey had wanted to stop. Sure, they hadn't done it in a while, and he'd initiated it mostly, and they'd been drunk, lately, when it happened, which hadn't always been the case, so maybe he should have seen it coming, that night when he leaned down towards Joey and Joey turned his mouth away.
"It's just. Justin. There's Eliza. I just don't feel right about it anymore."
"Britney," he'd said, numbly, for lack of anything better to say.
"Yeah," Joey said, smiling at him. "You guys are—"
"Yeah," Justin said.
"And it's not like. We were kind of bored. and horny," Joey said. "so."
"Sure," he said.
"Okay," Joey said, and ruffled his hair, and then they watched a movie on pay-per-view that he pretended he wanted to see, because it seemed rude to just leave as if he'd only wanted the sex.
So it was two o'clock before he could closet himself in the bathroom with a pair of scissors, and cut off all his hair, and by that time, it seemed like a really good idea, like he could cut off the part of himself that knew Joey's touch, like Joey might look at him and feel really sorry, like he just didn't want to be reminded every time he looked in the mirror of the way Joey had touched him. Then he cried, some, the hair on the floor drifting in the draft from the heating vent, the scissors still clutched loosely in his hands. Then he felt stupid, and realized that Joey probably would have fooled around with him one last time, if he'd asked.
Chris found him at three, coming back in from clubbing with Lance. They had adjoining rooms, sharing a bathroom. Chris seemed only faintly surprised to find Justin kneeling on the floor.
"hey," he said, and Justin waited for it, waited to lie and say yes, he was feeling sort of sick. "oh, Justin," Chris said, and sat down on the edge of the tub.
"yeah," he said, after a while. Chris needed a new pair of shoelaces, he thought. The hair was everywhere now, sticking to the bathmat, his shirt, his bare legs, Chris' shoes.
"C'mon," Chris said, after a while. "You should go to bed."
"okay," he said. He stood up, and put the scissors carefully on the edge of the sink, but he didn't look at Chris, and he didn't look in the mirror.