Fantasy and Putts - t.h. series [18+]

Meta-Fore of Love - part three *

It's when you look up that you get what he's trying to tell you.

The bags in your hands drop back to the floor.

It's his hair. All those inches of hair he let grow out in the few weeks prior to his vacation are gone now.

"I swear you had hair before you went to bed," you say.

"Well, it's summertime, and I like it."

"Tell her what really happened, loser," Harry says in a sand-like tone. Tom sends him a you really had to bring that up look, but his brother only stomps away towards the living room. Sam pats Tom's shoulder condescendingly and follows his twin.

"What happened?"

"I hate you," Tom says in sing-song, leaning to the side to look over your shoulder. When he straightens up, he adds, "I had a bit of an accident this morning. With sauce."

"And toothpaste," one of the twins yells from a distance.

"You shaved your head because of sauce... and toothpaste?"

"Yeah!" he exclaims, grabbing his larger piece of luggage and tugging on your hand. You pick up the shoulder bag from the floor and trek after him as he explains, "If it had been only the toothpaste, I would've let it go, but it was twice. In a matter of minutes. So I took it as a sign and solved the problem myself."

"And guess what?" he asks after he puts down the bag next to the couch. That same hand goes up to his head to rub his scalp from front to back. "No more accidents since."

"Oh, well," you say, approaching him with small steps. You lift a hand, but put it down before it gets past your shoulder. It recoils against your chest while you blink and keep appreciating his haircut that you have missed.

"You can touch it if you want," he says with a smirk. You can't contain a giggle in response.

"Yay." You run a palm on the side of his head. The spiky hairs prickle your skin just the way you remember they did when he came back home with this same haircut the last time. "I do like it."

"See?" Tom spits at his brothers as though they had had any doubts that the buzzcut would be anything other than a success.

"And I'm having thoughts," you say, grinning at him, hand running across the side of his head and twirling the top of his ear before it crawls to the back and holds him there.

The only thing you're actively thinking about is how your mood has definitely improved. It doesn't matter if nothing happens tonight because you can tell that Tom's priorities right now are rest first, shenanigans later, but the idea crosses your mind. And you have a feeling it's in his, too.

"Guess that's our cue to leave," Harry claims. He slaps his twin's shoulder on the way up like he's scared Sam won't even move. He does, though, practically at the same time.

"I'm surprised you even came round," you say as you turn to them. "Thought you'd want to go straight to your parents' given the, y'know, seventeen hours flight and all that."

"That was the plan," Harry tells you, scratching at the slight stubble under his chin, "but Tom wouldn't shut up about coming here first. So here we are."

"Are you staying?"

"No way," Sam blurts out. You chuckle at how fast that answer came out of him. "I want a proper bath. And my bed. Can't wait to see my bloody pillow again."

"Can't say I blame you," you say with a click of your tongue, following them to the door to see them out. "A flight that long isn't for the faint of heart."