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For Heart of Slash

For Heart of Slash

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Well, not sure if this is what you wanted really... hardly hot porn.

For those of you who may have missed it, Heart of Slash's fucking brilliant Pirate Way site was zapped. Illegitimate content? Right. Will rant about that at length if necessary. Looking forward to the relaunch. Anyway she asked for people to write something to cheer her up from a menu of suggestions of which Orlando/Ewan Magregor Hair porn was one. I am not a slash writer of course, and rather than embarass myself entirely, I kept it that way.  Though Ewan is more of a visual aid really... Will stop with the caveats now and just post it.

Author: Nuit
Title: Sticky Saturday
Type: RPF- Orlando and Ewan Macgregor type.
Summary: AU kind of thoughts about Orlando at the barbers. No offence nor implication intended.


He had always liked these sort of mornings, quiet on the streets Saturday mornings, when the last nights rubbish was still blowing  or rolling around the gutters and no one quite cared yet, too intent on getting to the bread shop for a warm bag of croissants or the corner shop for a pint of milk. Or, like him, doing one of those Saturday morning things that had to be squashed into the weekend. He let his legs fall into a natural rhythm along the pock marked pavements and smiled as he nodded his head. A proper haircut, that was what he needed, none of those fancy ‘stylists’ with expensive sticky gel fingers. A cut like he used to have, done by an impeccably smart man called Luigi, or Antonio, whose family had come from Sicily or Venice generations ago. A barber who took men’s hair seriously. Fuck the health spas and the pampering. In these old fashioned places you could feel the weight of maleness, no nonsense, no highlights, just a sanctuary from the world, and your follicles in the hands of a man who knew how to make you look ‘turned out proper’. A light flush coloured his cheeks at what Luigi or Tony might make of a bloke who had worn little clips in his hair, Trojan or not, it had been altogether embarrassing frankly. I will go hunting and fishing…yeah right…first though, if you could see your way to a swap Helen, I rather like that shiny one you have at the back there, would suit me just perfect.

 

Too late now to worry about that, the cold door handle was in his hand, the bell above the door tinkling to signal his arrival. The air held a scent of splashed eau de cologne, not too much you understand, just enough to close the pores and because the ladies like it, strong black coffee and brylcrem, sharp dressed testosterone and fresh newspaper print. He beamed a cheery good morning at the man holding the scissors and sat down on a leather covered bench to wait his turn.

 

The low hum of the clippers, like a summer bee around its very favourite flower, covered the occasional low conversation between two men engaged in an established familiarity. One was intent on his work, the other, Orlando observed in the mirror, had his eyes closed in what might be described as focussed attentive enjoyment. Trust, that was the thing. One only had to see that Sweeny Todd to understand that things could of course go horribly wrong, but perhaps that was not so likely on a Saturday morning in 21st century London. In any case, far from worrying about being a pie filling the object of his scrutiny looked to be in a state of relaxed surrender to ministrations of another man.

 

Christ, let that go. Orlando shifted a little on the leather and straightened his back, picking up the paper on the seat next to him he averted his gaze. North London Advertiser, now there was a dull few pages, Kilburn Autos and the Kashmiri Balti on the High Street all mixed up with a campaign for better rubbish collections. Anyway his eyes seemed to be wandering back to the mirror. The barber had one hand on the bloke’s neck now, holding it steady while the other pressed the blades of the clipper along the curve of his skull, long smooth stokes that left hardly a quarter inch of blond hair, a shimmer really of new cut bristle. Expert hands moved around ears and the dip of the back of his neck, manipulating the steel teeth just close enough. Inches of curls gathered on the floor, forlorn and discarded, and for one horrible moment Orlando had a thought to reach over and pick one up, just to feel its softness in his fingers.

 

Stop that right now. But that wasn’t so easy as he had hoped. In the increasing heat of the barber shop he found himself wishing that another customer might arrive, opening the door for a gust of cooler air. No such luck, instead he watched as the long silver scissors tidied and trimmed and slid over skin, the sound of steel slicing hair curiously attractive, intimate, engaging, mesmerising.

 

A pale wood brush appeared now flicking over the bloke’s neck and his face “How is that for you?” soft Italian already anticipated the answer, and the barber warmed the light wax between his palms massaging a little into the stubble of the man’s remaining hair. Strong hands, ones that were used to touching and Orlando wondered for a second if a career change might just work out.

 

As the barber stepped away the bloke finally opened his eyes. Bleary. As if he had forgotten precisely where he was, he opened them to catch the reflection of the back of his own head in the little mirror being held behind him. Well the back of his own head and of course the brown eyes that were staring right at him from the waiting chairs.

 

Fuck. Orlandos hands instinctively reached for something to hide behind but The North London Advertiser was not going to save him. And maybe he didn’t want to be saved. The craggy face grinned back from the mirror as heavy fingers reached up to run over the smooth downy skin of exposed scalp. Orlando hoped that he hadn’t made the noise that was in his  throat.

 

Italian promise seeped into his head “Are you ready Sir? What would you like today?”

 

He shook his head a little to clear it and drew breath before pulling himself up to his full height “I will have what he has got”

  • (no subject) - trollny_stark
    • tee hee, well then I am happy to make you grin like and idjut. yeah...EWAN, though I know not a jot about him to be frank, hence he was rather errr quiet.
      It was good fun to think on for me.
  • Wow. I think I feel a bit like Ewan, coming out of a sort of trance... Beautifully done, took me right there - I could see, hear and smell everything. Bravo!*claps*
    • Thanks- glad you liked it, not my usual obviously, though perhaps some of that orlando from LIT huh?
  • Wow! So beautifully written. How love how your stories flow, make you feel like you are there experiencing things yourself. Bravo :D
    • Thank you very much Angel- I am very happy to have you read something of mine XXX
      • Oh you are welcome. I'm just sorry I don't read more often. I'm terrible when it comes to reading fanfic. But I do love our stuff, because it's always beautifully written :D xxx
  • Ah, beautifully mesmerisingly written as ever Nuit, sucked me right in - screaming inside at what I knew was coming *not the curls, not the curls* but there you are.

    Terrific stuff as ever.

    cheers
    Luna
    xx
    • heheh yeah well me too! but luckily it always grows back huh?
      Thanks- glad you liked it XX
  • (no subject) - casettes
    • hehehe well I am a firm believer in following up on ones addictions.
      They really are!
    • Tee hee! Now you are speaking my language!

      *waves* Haven't seen you around OL lately. :-)
  • Ah well, you know how I like a bit of slash myself...:P
    This was an amazing slice of life I'd call it-I just love the way you make an ordinary thing something dreamy to read about, I can't explain myself but I think you get what I mean!

    Hey...I just cut Thomas' hair with the clippers yesterday & all his soft curls fell to the floor just like this...he now looks more like he just escaped from prison lol! He has a huge scratch/scar on forehead to complete the part! He did this putting up the fence three days ago.
    • I thought you were on about a cat called Thomas! I was wondering about you shaving the cat but more extraordinarily that he was putting up fences- d'oh hehehe
      I think your parcel arrived- is in the Post office!

      Thanks honey XXXX
      • HAHAHAHA! Am crying with laughter here!!
        A curly haired cat putting up a fence??? lol!
        *skips off to the PO*

        • heheeh well is a thought huh?

          well I HOPE my parcel arrived for you at the PO in NZ, but I meant the other way round. (what??)
  • I will go hunting and fishing…yeah right…first though, if you could see your way to a swap Helen, I rather like that shiny one you have at the back there, would suit me just perfect.

    Bwahahaha! *wipes tears*

    A lovely thing you did for haleth...I am glad to see she has established another site.
  • (no subject) - heartofslash
    • you are VERY Very welcome! I enjoyed writing it so not completely altruistic of course, just felt like the thing to do, your stuff has been inspirational to me, especially 'you know what' so just saying thanks X
  • Wow! That was great! You always manage to make me feel like I am right in the story (as an observer)
  • Long ago in a time too far away to mention, I was studying hairdressing. It can indeed be a very sensual experience, especially since you are right in personal energy and handling someone's body with their implicit trust. I love the way you captured the whole feel of that and the old barbershop. Plus the visuals of the stolen glances in the mirror were perfect touches. You have "play" without them touching once. Verra sexy!

    Now excuse me while I let my mind wander with some inventive uses for hair tonic...

    Lanta
    • heheehhehehe well yes. Did you read HoS companion piece? Fabulous.
      Thanks a lot, I am made up that you liked it, not my ususl as you know, but was fun and challenging and inspiring for all that. I have only written a bit of Orlando once before and I am very fond of him.
      XX
  • This is such a good example of what you do so well, Nuit. Let us peek in someone's windows and get caught up in whatever is going on. You have an amazing talent for creating a sense of place.
    • thank you very much! I appreciate it. Some windows I would rather peek in but then heheeh that goes without saying!
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