#mullet

He stepped closer, still in his Red Hood jacket, the leather creaking as he moved. The new haircut made him look taller somehow, broader, the sharp lines of his face even more striking. You couldn’t stop staring at the way the longer pieces in the back brushed his neck, the way the sides were faded just enough to show the strong line of his jaw.

You reached out before you could think, fingers threading through the longer hair at the back of his head. It was soft, freshly washed, still a little damp. Jason’s breath hitched as you tugged gently, testing the length.

“God,” you whispered. “You look so good. Like… stupidly good.”

His smirk widened, but there was a flush creeping up his neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You stepped closer, pressing your body against his, one hand still in his hair. The other slid under his jacket, palm flat against his chest. “I can’t stop looking at you. The mullet… it’s hot. Really hot.”

Jason groaned softly, hands settling on your waist, pulling you tighter against him. “You’re gonna make me blush, baby. It’s just hair.”

“It’s not just hair,” you murmured, tugging again, harder this time. His head tilted back slightly, exposing the line of his throat. You leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to the skin just below his jaw. “It makes you look… dangerous. Like you could throw me over your shoulder and carry me off somewhere.”

He laughed, low and rough, but his hands tightened on your hips. “Maybe I will. If you keep pulling my hair like that.”

You smiled against his neck, nipping lightly. “Promise?”

Jason’s breath stuttered. He walked you backward until your back hit the counter, lifting you easily onto it. Your legs wrapped around his waist without thinking, pulling him closer. His hands slid under your shirt, palms warm against your bare skin as he kissed you — deep, hungry, full of all the want he usually kept so carefully controlled.

You kept one hand in his hair, tugging gently as you kissed him back. The new cut gave you something to hold onto, something to grip when he pressed closer, grinding against you just enough to make you gasp into his mouth.

“I love your hair like this,” you whispered when you broke apart for air. “It’s so soft. So easy to grab.”

Jason’s eyes were dark, pupils blown. “You’re gonna kill me tonight. I can already tell.”

You grinned, tugging again, harder. His head tilted back with a low groan, exposing his throat. You leaned in, sucking a mark just below his ear, then another on his collarbone, leaving little bruises that would peek out from under his shirt tomorrow.

He let you. He always let you.

His hands roamed your body — sliding up your back, down your sides, gripping your thighs as he pulled you closer. Every touch was reverent but hungry, like he couldn’t get enough of you. You kept playing with his hair, running your fingers through the longer pieces in the back, scratching lightly at his scalp.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” you murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth. “My handsome boyfriend with his new haircut. I can’t stop touching it.”

Jason laughed breathlessly, the sound turning into a groan when you tugged again. “Keep doing that and dinner’s gonna burn.”

You glanced over at the stove. The pasta was still simmering, but you didn’t care. You kissed him again, deeper, grinding against him as your fingers stayed tangled in his hair.

“Let it burn,” you whispered against his lips. “I’m busy.”

He groaned, hands sliding under your thighs as he lifted you off the counter, carrying you toward the bedroom without breaking the kiss. You wrapped your legs around his waist, still playing with his hair, tugging gently every few seconds just to hear the little sounds he made.

When he laid you down on the bed, he hovered over you, eyes dark and soft all at once. “You really like it, huh?”

“I love it,” you said, reaching up to run your fingers through it again. “It makes you look… dangerous. Like you could ruin me and I’d thank you for it.”

Jason’s breath hitched. He leaned down, kissing you slow and deep, one hand braced beside your head, the other sliding under your shirt to rest warm against your stomach. “Then maybe I will,” he murmured against your mouth. “Ruin you. Just a little.”

You smiled, tugging his hair again as you pulled him closer. “Promise?”

He did.

The rest of the night passed in a haze of kisses and touches and soft laughter. Jason was everywhere — hands on your waist, lips on your neck, body pressed against yours as he moved with that effortless grace he always had. He let you play with his hair the whole time, tugging and scratching and holding on as he kissed you senseless.

When you finally fell asleep, tangled together under the sheets, Jason’s head was on your chest, your fingers still loosely threaded through his new haircut.

He was exactly where he wanted to be.

And you? You were right there with him.