Secret Slasha – The Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Angel Slash Fanfiction Secret Santa Project
Secret Slasha – The Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Angel Slash Fanfiction Secret Santa Project

True Tales Of Hair Gel
By Criss Moody
For Amy Mayr

"Give it up, Angel."

"What?"

Angel paused mid-scrunch, his hands gooey with light green hair gel. He thought he'd locked the bathroom door, but he could never be too sure. Many times in the last few years Wesley had come within a heartbeat of watching Angel's daily hair ritual. Wash, dry, wet with comb, apply judiciously large globs of Nancy Boy Hair Gel. Okay, so Wes knew. But pretense was everything. And Angel did a damn good job of ignoring that his lover knew that he snuck into the bathroom everyday to do his hair.

Wes rolled his eyes at his lover's antics. Yes, he knew. Wanker and his secrecy.

"Every year we go through this. I pretend you don't order Nancy Boy Hair Gel by the crate. And you act like you get your hair to do acrobatics on it's own. Really, Angel, who do you think you're fooling?" The vampire took a deep breath and finished his halted scrunch. Washed his hands and dried them carefully, formulating a defense that wouldn't land him on the couch, or worse, begging for a place to stay in Sunnydale. Last time he'd pissed off Wes, Angel had ended up on Buffy's doorstep, trying to explain to college freshman Dawn and her very human very jealous boyfriend why he needed a place to stay. Angel hadn't meant to throw the very last copy of the Vellarsian scrolls into the shredder. Angel swung the bathroom door open and faced Wesley, who stood a few feet away, arms crossed over his body.

"Wes, leave a man some mystery, huh?"

"A, you're not a man. B, mystery is highly over-rated. C, you're a melodramatic slob who leaves the damn tubes of gel littering the bathroom, but still pretends that he doesn't use hair gel."

Angel, strong in the ways of controlling his emotions, didn't stick his tongue out at Wes. Instead, he pouted. A super strength, full puppy-dog-poor-Angel-with-tortured-soul pout. He thought about adding a tear but thought that would be over kill. Wesley was in love with him; he wasn't an idiot.

Wesley scowled more and turned away.

Shit. The pout had failed. Time for plan B. What was plan B? Oh yeah, he didn't have a plan B. Okay, time for abject groveling.

"Okay, I admit it."

Wes halted.

"I use hair gel."

"Not bloody good enough."

"You're going to make me say it??!!??" Angel couldn't believe it. This was cruelty beyond anything even his demon could have dreamed up. His usually mild-mannered, albeit vicious when the time came for such things, lover was going to make him admit…dammit, Angel should have just gotten a pet instead of getting involved with Wes. Less embarrassing revelations that way. No nookie there, though. Dammit. This wasn't going to be easy to say.

"I. Use. Nancy." Angel gritted his teeth and forced the rest of the words out. "Boy. Hair. Gel. Happy now?"

"Ecstatic." Wes, having won the tiny battle, walked up to Angel. Brushed his hands alongside his lover's face and tweaked a few stray tendrils of hair. He leaned in and kissed Angel's forehead and Angel found himself closing his eyes and rubbing the soft skin at Wesley's wrists.

"Good."

"Thank you."

"Gonna tell Cordy?"

"Only if she hurts me."

"I love you."

"I know."