Ponytail [2P!Canada|Matt Williams]

Ponytail [2P!Canada||Matt Williams]

            “A-Are you sure you wanna do this, Mattie?” you asked quietly. You had scissors poised around your boyfriend’s cute little ponytail, he was determined to have it hacked off.

            “Yeah, I’m sure. Just cut it off already,” he grunted, you heard the wooden stool he was on groan as he dug in his fingers.

            Your hand with the scissors twitched, you really didn’t want to do this. You loved his silky, dirty blonde hair how it was. You thought he did too, what triggered the sudden change of heart? You pulled the scissors away and sighed, “Does this have to do with what Al said earlier?”

            Matt stayed silent, and you could only imagine the scowl on his face. Al had been making fun of Matt’s ponytail all week. You rolled your eyes, your shoulders slumping some; of course this was because of Al. “I like your hair the way it is – besides, it’s real fun to grab on to –”

            Matt interrupted you bitterly, “How many of your First Player guy friends have ponytails?”

            You flinched, why did he always have to bring them into this? You couldn’t help that you were the go between for the First and Second Players! Hell, it was because of your relationship with Matt (and the fact that you got along with basically everyone) that you were delegated the pain-in-as job as a mediator/baby sitter.

    You stuttered, trying frantically to think over your friends. “Yao –”

            “That Chinese prick doesn’t count,” growled the Canadian.

            You sighed to this, of course he didn’t. You then tried frantically to think of any other of your friends, but none came right off the bat. “Francois has a ponytail, and Al’s never said anything to him.”

            “Alain doesn’t have the balls to,” spat Matt, using the French variant of ‘Allen’ to spite Al (even though he wasn’t there). “Even though we’re countries, Oliver and Francois are the closest things to father figures we have. Al’ll never admit it, but Francois scares ‘im shitless – now just cut the Goddamn thing off!”

            You whined in the back of your throat as you slowly raised the scissors again. “Once it’s done, it’s done, Matt – you’ll have to wait for it to grow back out –”

            “Just…just do it, Maple.” Matt glanced over his shoulder at you, and you could see the silent pleading in his usually unreadable violets. You sighed again, and then gave his shoulder a light squeeze.

            “Well,” you muttered, “here goes…”

            You tugged on his ponytail, and then began to saw through just above the elastic. You grimaced the whole time, this was killing you inside. You could have screamed when the clump of hair finally came off in your hand, it was like you’d just cut off his finger or his hand; that ponytail was just as much a part of him as they were.

            You stood in front of Matt, dangling his ponytail in front of his face. Awkwardly, he ran his hand through his hair, his face taking on a strange expression as it stopped abruptly at the nape of his neck. You, however, couldn’t stand the haircut.

    “Omigod, you look exactly like Matthew…!” you panicked, it wasn’t that you didn’t like Matt’s First Player but – Mathieu was your boyfriend, not Matthew.

    A side from the beard scruff, the lighter tone of dark blonde, and the darker purple of his irises, Matt was the spitting image of the shy Canadian.  The ponytail had always given Matt a certain character to him, which made him look different than Matthew. With the way it pull his hair back, it gave a little more framing to his face making his cheek bones and squarer jaw more prominent. Also, you found he looked a little more bad ass with the three inch long ponytail bobbing at the nape of his neck. Not to mention, since he had long hair, it was a lot more fun to run your hands through and pull during sex (which you had eluded to earlier, but been completely disregarded).

            “Are you fucking kidding me?” groaned Matt, his shoulders tensing as he rolled his neck to glower at the ceiling of the manor.

            “I – I can always try and cut it shorter. Like Al’s or Oliver’s – i-if you want,” you suggested, swallowing to try and moisten your dry throat.

            Matt slowly lower his gaze to your form. With another hand through his disconcertingly short hair, the Canadian sighed. “Well, Maple, we’ve already cut it this short – might as well. Can’t go walking around lookin’ like that flap jack, now can I? – Besides, I might get jealous if we had sex while I looked like him.”

            Your cheeks filled with heat at his final statement. Matt gave you a smirk, and then you pulled to stand between his legs. With his arms around your middle, he looked up at you. “Now, what’s say we get my hair shorter and then do a test run.”  

            He chuckled at your increased embarrassment, and then released you after kissing you gently. An idea striking you, you ran off to find the electric razor. After digging through three closets, you finally found it. Once back in the kitchen, you put on the longest extension and turned it on. You pulled the razor through most of Matt’s hair, leaving the back and around the sides about an inch long.

            “Just don’t. Cut. The. Curl,” warned Matt as you put away the razor and brought back the scissors.

            You laughed, rolling your eyes. “I know, I know, Mattie. Besides, why would I want to? It’s so much fun to pull.”

            A low growl came from Matt at your last sentence, you often used that curl to your advantage; especially when you thought he was being too soft with you, which Matt made a habit of. Sure, you were his little Maple Leaf but you weren’t delicate! You were an adult after all!

            You carefully avoided the curl springing forth from an unknown position in Matt’s scalp as you began to chop away at his remaining long hair. Once it was shorter, you discovered his hair became kind of an unruly wavy. You faded his hair to match the back, and left the top and front of his hair of his hair about two or three inches long. When you were done, you stood in front of Matt and combed your fingers through to style it.

            You smiled as you finished and admired your work. Matt ran his hand through it, feeling it; that added the perfect finishing touch! You had to admit, he looked kind of sexy like this. “C’mon, hot stuff, let’s go check out your new do in the mirror.”

            Matt chuckled as you tugged on his arm and lead him to the closest power room. You wouldn’t let him in just yet though, and kept the light off. “Are you ready?”

            “Yes, now can we get this over with? I have loose hair in my shirt, and it’s driving me crazy,” groaned the blonde, moving his shoulders uncomfortably in his shirt. You laughed, and then tugged him into the large room.

            “Annnd, voila!” you cheered, flipping on the light.

    Matt seemed utterly surprised as he stared at the mirror. He glared at first at the man by your side, only to realize that it was himself. Then Matt slowly leaned on the sink bowl, getting closer to his reflection. He ran a hand through his short hair, twirling some of the strands between his fingers.

    All he muttered was a low ‘wow.’

            “So…do you like it?” you asked slowly, leaning your face on Matt’s arm. He eyes went to you in the reflection; he shrugged after a moment.

            “It’s s’okay,” he said, there was a slight pout in his voice.

            You smiled at him sweetly. “Regretting it?”

            His violet eyes went back to staring at his short hair. “Big time. I already can’t wait to be able to put it back in a ponytail.”

            You giggled to this, running your own hand through it. “Well, it’ll take some getting used to. That’s all – now, we should probably go get that hair out of your shirt.”

            Matt did a double take at you in the mirror as your words sank in. A slow grin appearing on his face. “That’s right. I promised you a test run. Didn’t I, Maple Leaf?”

            Before you could blink, you were over the blonde’s shoulder and headed towards his bathroom on the second floor. Thank God everybody else was out for the day.

            It wasn’t until later in the evening that you wobbled your way down the stairs, your shaking legs trying to hold you up.

            That was a lot more than a test run, you mentally noted. You were able to walk half way correctly by the time you got to the kitchen – Matt didn’t believe in lunch breaks, so you were starving.

            “Well, by that walk, somebody had some fun today,” teased Al from the breakfast nook, where he sat backwards on a chair, as you dug through the fridge. You rolled your eyes, not even bothering to respond.

            “Allen, be nice,” warned Oliver from his place at the stove. “And [Name], make sure to leave room for dinner.”

            You smiled at the strawberry blonde as you took something from the fridge, and placed it on the counter before hauling yourself up on to it. “I know, Ollie.”

    “Say, where’s Ponytail?” asked Al abruptly. Francois grunted almost unnoticeably from behind his newspaper, you could tell that he was annoyed by Al’s taunts – even if they weren’t aimed at him

            “Right here, shit stain,” growled Matt’s voice from the door way. You looked over to see Matt with a smirk, standing in the entry way as he rolled up the sleeves on his red flannel.

            All was silent as the other three men turned to look at Matt. He casually went over to you, though, and stole some of what you were eating. The blonde leaned against the counter by your legs, a hand absently placed on your knee.

            “Oh my word…” you heard Oliver mutter, nearly dropping what was in his hands; even Francois moved the paper to raise an eyebrow.

            “What the fuck did you do to hair?” blurted Al, his shit eating grin entirely gone now as he gawked.

            “I had [Name] cut it for me,” said Matt coolly, shrugging his shoulders. You ran your fingers through Matt’s tiny tendrils, and then kissed it.

            “I don’t know about you guys,” you started, “but I like Matt’s short hair.”

            “I – oh, it is very nice,” said Oliver, quickly composing himself and going back to making dinner. “Just…diff –”

            “Ponytail-less,” finished Al as he got up and walked to stand before his brother.

            His crimson eyes scrutinized him for a moment; all Matt did was raise an eyebrow. Al laughed then, giving Matt a crooked smile and showing off his missing tooth. He then ruffled Matt’s hair, which immediately went back into place. Al did this quite a few times; he used to like to mess up Matt’s hair, and take out his hair tie.

            “What’s the matter, Alain?” teased Matt, this time it was him giving the shit eating grin.

            “Fuck off, dip shit,” growled Al, his face falling, all sense of teasing gone. With that, Al stalked off – apparently unappreciative of his brother ruining his fun.

            In the midst of it all, you heard Francois make an amused sound and noticed a little smirk as his eyes followed Al out of the room. You two caught eyes, and exchanged little flashes of knowing smiles before he raised the paper again.

            You kissed the side of Matt’s head again before finishing what you were eating. So Francey Pants did have the smallest amount of fatherly affection in him towards Matt. Not to mention you’d put a stop to the ponytail taunts, so Francois was resembled in them anymore.

    My, how this haircut brought out interesting things.