smoke and mirrors {arsen/theo blitz}

Arsen Rauv

Today was boring.

Matteo was out sick, and his replacement was a woman Arsen didn’t care for. She was a bossy perfectionist who owned a thousand shades of lipstick, all of which didn’t contrast well with her withering complexion. He was almost certain she was taking something. It was none of his business, so he didn’t ask. He just sat in a corner doodling until customers walked in, or until she nagged at him to start cleaning despite him having swept and wiped down counters two hours ago. To make matters worse, business was slow, so he was forced to listen to her voice for the majority of his miserable shift.

Home was a relief. Dad was making macaroni and cheese with broccoli, and asked Arsen to help him steam the vegetables. ”I don’t like broccoli,” he promptly complained, peeking around his father’s torso to peer into the pot of noodles.

”You won’t taste it.”

Arsen sighed, but he was right. As they curled up on the couch with bowls of noodles, he didn’t taste anything but the cheese. He ended up zoning out through most of the television programs. All of it was about the Games, and he didn’t care enough to pay attention. He ended up finishing after his dad, and offered to clean the dishes. Productivity was preferable to boredom.

His hands moved mechanically. He vacantly stared out the kitchen window, fixated on the leaf of a tree branch. He pondered nothing in particular, and didn’t feel bored as much as he did empty, like someone had replaced his emotions with helium. He wanted to sleep and air himself out, but part of him knew tomorrow wouldn’t be any better. It would probably be just as dreadful.

The front door suddenly flew open, startling him all the way in the kitchen. He heard a familiar outburst and poked his head through the doorway to find Theo staring at his stone-still father, evidently regretting his own stupidity. Arsen glided to his father’s side and observed his raised eyebrow. He clearly wasn’t offended, just a little weirded out be the intrusion. ”Friend of yours, Arsen?”

Unfortunately.

He didn’t mean it.

”Yeah, this is Theo.”

”Does Theo know how to use doors?”

”Nope.”

He noticed the bottles in Theo’s hands. They looked familiar, but he couldn’t read the labels from a distance. ”What are those?”

Arsen Rauv

”Hair dye!” he exclaimed, like it was exciting. Arsen was not impressed, and his father continued to stare at their intruder with a glint of curiosity in his wise old eyes. ”And bleach, of course, have you ever tried to dye dark hair? It's a bitch.”

Theo was a damn mess.

Arsen was unfazed by the curse. Most fathers would reel back in shock or offense, but not his. Perhaps the idea of accidental disrespect was lingering somewhere in his thoughts. Either way, he didn’t voice any displeasure. Arsen never really cursed in front of him, simply out of loving respect, but it was okay to slip a “damn” out once in awhile. His father wasn’t so innocent either, and fortunately he was very forgiving. Theo would escape scrutiny for the time being. This was only the first impression, after all, and his father was all about giving second chances.

He thought it was funny how pink Theo could turn, like a rose bud. It was endearing enough to lead Arsen away from the couch without protest. He announced that he was “going blue,” and suddenly the hair dye was ten times more interesting. Blue hair was the greatest idea ever, no sarcasm intended. He couldn’t even imagine that color atop of Theo’s head but he wanted to see it. What kind of blue was it? Navy blue? Cotton candy blue?

Light blue, he said.

All the helium was gone, replaced by excitement. ”We’ll see,” he said.

”Have fun you two. I remember I used to dye my hair all the time when I was your age.”

Arsen’s eyes launched to the ceiling. Now was not the time for dad stories. ”That’s great, dad. We’ll be in my room.” He started off toward the hallway.

”Okay, but keep the door open. If I hear anything that isn’t dyeing hair, I’m coming after you.”

How embarrassing. Just because he didn’t bring home friends didn’t mean the first boy that showed up at his front door was a lover.

Arsen Rauv

Theo was a little shit. A nervous little shit, though. His hands were trembling like he was about to have a seizure if his dad didn’t drop the shenanigans. What was he afraid of? Dads always had that air of threatening authority to them, but nothing in his dad’s demeanor or tone suggested that he was legitimately concerned. He was half-playing, half-serious. His dad actually would interrupt them if they ever decided to do something naughty (unlikely, given Theo’s taken status and the fact that he just wasn’t his type), but he wouldn’t be aggressive about it. He was just overprotective of his last living family member.

I’m not made of glass, dad.

The nervous energy radiating from Theo was giving him jitters. To break the tension, he spoke. ”We’re just friends, dad!” He glanced over his shoulder and caught his dad’s sly smile before walking into his bedroom. ”That’s what they all say!” he answered. A fair point, but absolutely not. Arsen just wanted to dye his friend's hair in peace.

”Also, you’re wrong,” he added, looking at Theo once they were in the quiet confines of his quarters. ”I could charm the pants off of you.”

He didn’t know why Theo was squeezing his wrist like an excited child. All of his energy came seemingly from nowhere. Maybe he was hyped up on something, or maybe that was just Theo. Arsen hadn’t known him for too long, but the kid was always happy. Well, not always – there was the time they first met, where minutes were spent locked away in a back room with Theo crying out of panic and terror. Something in his life was fucked up. The happiness might’ve just been a compensation.

At least he was trying. Arsen never tried at all. There was no use in pretending.

”You can sit here,” he said, gesturing to the chair in front of his mirror. Then he opened his closet, grabbed a towel, and tossed it at his face. ”Put this on.” He paused and stared at the ceiling, pondering. ”What else do we need?”

Arsen Rauv

Arsen watched Theo apply the bleach, trying to imagine what he would look like with stark white hair. If he kept his hair blonde, it would bring out his eyes and the color of his face. The blue might accomplish something similar, other than turning him into a crayon. He was eager to see. Matteo had dyed his hair blood red once, and it had fascinated Arsen for the four months he had decided to flaunt it before returning to his natural color.

He had thought about experimenting with his own hair before. His coworkers often asked him why he never did anything decorative besides pierce his ears. As a tattoo artist, it was odd having a bare body, but he simply couldn’t decide what he wanted. There were so many options, and all of them could have disastrous consequences if he ended up regretting it. He didn’t just want something with meaning, he wanted something impressive. Something beautiful. Maybe something for his mom or his baby sister.

Arsen stood in front of the mirror and prodded at tufts of his auburn hair, wondering what colors would contrast well with his eyes and cheeks. Nothing too insane. Maybe something darker?

There was a familiar squeak behind him. He rolled his eyes before he even turned around to see it; of course Theo was making himself at home on his bed, but he was also being weird. He was flailing about like a worm. If his expression hadn’t been so devious and childish, Arsen would’ve suspected a seizure.

”Stop it,” he whined. Theo was purposely trying to stir an embarrassing situation. I should kick him out of my house. How exasperating. He couldn’t pull him off because that required stepping backwards, and he was already on his third fall of the week. He hopped on the bed instead and started pushing him. ”Theo, get off!”

His dad appeared in the doorway, a looming shadow. Arsen froze up and stared at him like a deer in the headlights. ”With the door open? Have you no shame? I raised you better than that.”

He was joking, Arsen could tell. But that didn’t make his cheeks any less pink.

”Dad!” he whined again.