Washed

My hands on his hair... his hair on my hands... this moment would've been one of beauty, yet it was one of complete putridness... nauseatingly so... He sat before me... he...

“Wait... what, like what if my clothes get wet?” He questioned.

That question... I had anticipated it... of course even one of stupidity of little complex could decipher the issues surrounding wet clothes. Discomfort, terror, pain, families dying. These issues were nothing but obvious... even he knew nudity was needed.

“I uh... you uh... heh-heh...clothes...naked... heh...” I stammered.

My hands on his hair... his hair on my hands... this moment was one of complete beauty. His hair was tangled, ratty, absolutely abysmal! I began to attempt brushing through his hair, I needed it to be plenty malleable before treatment. This proved a difficult task even when his hair was wet, through great struggle I managed to somewhat detangle his hair and remove any debris.

Now. I needed to lather, feel, touch, be intimate which each strand of hair connected to his scalp! I had a wide range of shampoos; I took my hygiene very seriously... I couldn’t go a day without bathing, the idea of a stench from myself... such brought fright. I’ve never owned any products for oily hair, my own hair was often dry, I use hair serums and such to hydrate my scalp. But his hair was beyond greasy, it was as if he had been bathed in years of oil build up... I wasn’t sure how to tackle the state of his hair, I wasn’t sure of what products to use...

“What scents do you like...? Any in particular?” I asked.

The only way to narrow down the various variety was through differentiating scents.

“Hmmm... uh gasoline smells good; I like gas stations.” He said.

It really pained me... I didn’t want to be subjected to the act or infliction of disappointment. Gasoline isn’t a scent for hair. There was no way it ever was or could be...

“Do you... like rose scented things?” I asked.

“... that’s gay... no...” He mumbled.

“... rose scent... but the shampoo’s for men?” I lied.

He didn’t respond, should I just use it? Only fools use manly shampoo for men... of course the shampoo I owned wasn’t gendered. Is it a crime for a man to smell good? If that means I'm gay, then so be it!

The shampoo I chose smelt nice; it was a shame that most would be used on hair other than my own...I couldn’t think like that! I was being helpful!

I lathered shampoo into his hair, massaging it into his scalp he...

“uhn..” he moaned.

He moaned? I was frozen in shock, what the heck! That’s gay!

“... sorry... that felt nice...” he murmured.

I continued to wash his scalp. Who cares if it’s gay! I’m being nice!

I rinsed and washed his hair repeatedly; much washing was needed to completely free his hair of stench. After the final wash and rinse, I once again brushed through his hair. Heh... heh... his hair was soft and smooth, I wanted to bury my face in it, I could die happily that way. I lathered conditioner into his hair, the washing had been harsh... he needed some moisture back... yawning, he turned to look at me.

“Are you almost done? We’ve already met the chapter word count...” he said sleepily. 

I hadn’t realized that 8 hours had passed... it had grown to be very dark outside... only one solution was present... of course, he'd have to sleep over!