Part 3: Late Night

The messages started slow. Quick texts about appointments, Zaire's hair care questions. But over the next few weeks, they crept later into the night, stretching longer.

Tivaughn was finishing inventory when his phone lit up around 11: "You still at the shop?"

He glanced at the time, thumbs hovering over the screen. "Yeah, why?"

Three dots appeared, disappeared. Appeared again. "Need a cut."

Tivaughn should have said no. He'd already cleaned his station, counted the register. But he found himself typing: "Door's open for 20 more mins"

Fifteen minutes later, the bell chimed. Reece stepped in from the rain, drops clinging to his leather jacket. That familiar smoke smell followed him, stronger tonight.

"Shop's closed," Tivaughn said, but he was already reaching for his clippers.

"You said 20 minutes." Reece shrugged off his jacket, revealing a black fitted underneath. His eyes were slightly red, shoulders tense like he was carrying something heavy.

"Rough night?" Tivaughn asked, draping the cape around him.

Reece's jaw tightened. "Just need a cleanup."

The usual electricity hummed between them as Tivaughn worked, but something else lingered too - a heaviness in the air. Every time their eyes met in the mirror, Reece held his gaze a beat longer before looking away.

"Z's mom used to do his hair," Reece said suddenly, so quiet Tivaughn almost missed it over the buzz of clippers.

Tivaughn's hands stilled for just a moment. He'd wondered, but never asked. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Reece went quiet again, but the weight of what he wasn't saying filled the shop.

Tivaughn worked in silence, letting his hands speak instead - each stroke of the clippers deliberate, gentle. When he switched to the straight razor for the edge-up, Reece finally relaxed under his touch, eyes drifting closed.

"There," Tivaughn said softly, brushing away loose hair from Reece's neck. His fingers lingered a fraction too long on warm skin.

Reece's eyes opened, meeting his in the mirror. For a moment, that carefully constructed wall cracked, showing something raw underneath.

Then his phone buzzed - the babysitter. Reality crashed back in. Reece stood, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking off the moment.

"Good looking out," he said, pulling out his wallet.

"Don't worry about it." Tivaughn waved him off. "Just hit me next time."

Reece paused at the door, rain still falling outside. "Might need you to redo Z's braids soon. He won't shut up about them."

"Whenever you need," Tivaughn said. "I got you both."

Something flickered across Reece's face - gratitude maybe, or something deeper. But he just nodded once and stepped out into the rain.

Later that night, after Tivaughn had locked up and made it home, his phone lit up one last time:

"Thanks"

One word, but Tivaughn knew it wasn't just about the haircut. He fell asleep with his phone still in his hand, cursor blinking on his reply