Princess by Bexless
It's the middle of the night, which you know, isn't as big a deal as it used to be when he had to get up at six every morning to shovel manure, but still.
Clark groans and rolls over, trying to will the real noises to be part of the dream ones so he can go back to sleep, but it's no use.
"Clark! I know you're in there! Open the goddam door! It's an emergency!"
Clark really, really doubts that. Ethan's idea of an emergency is running out of cigarettes in a nightclub and not being able to find any smokers to flirt with. Clark pulls his head from under his pillow and rubs his eyes. "What's the matter?"
"Open the door!" The handle rattles, twice, and then there's a thump which is no doubt Ethan hurling all of his 190 pounds at the door. "Ow! Shit!"
Clark laughs, quietly, because it isn't Ethan's fault things don't go the way they do in the movies but it's funny the way he keeps trying to make them.
"Come on, man! Let me in already! I'm dying out here!"
Clark sighs, and detangles himself from the blankets. It's a good job Simon isn't here. "Can't it wait until morning?"
"Clark," says Ethan, and for the first time Clark notices the very real panic in his tone. "I'm serious. Don't leave me out here. I need your help. Please."
Instinct kicks in at the little waver on the last word, and it has Clark out of bed and into his jeans in not very much time at all. "Ethan, what Ð Ethan?"
Ethan doesn't waste any time with greetings or explanations, just pushes his way into Clark's room and motions impatiently at him. "Shut the door!"
Clark does, trying not to stare. Wow. "Oh my god."
Ethan sighs, and collapses onto Clark's beanbag, hands over his face. "It's like a hell," he moans through his fingers.
Clark sits down on the end of his bed. "Ethan, what happened to your hair?"
"Franny," says Ethan. It comes out like "Hitler."
"Franny," repeats Clark, starting to understand.
"She said I needed updating."
"Updating." Clark's having real trouble with original words. "And this isÉupdated?"
Ethan moans again, and wiggles around to pull a little square mirror out of his pocket. "Oh Jesus. It's getting worse." He throws the mirror on the floor and closes his eyes. "Can you turn off the lights, please?"
Clark laughs again, and regrets it instantly because Ethan hates to be laughed at. "Sorry," he says, getting up to turn the dimmer switch.
"What am I going to do?" Ethan demands when Clark sits back down again.
"Don't ask me. My mother cut my hair until six months ago."
"Well, who cuts it now?"
"The student barber on campus."
"Clark! You're not helping!" Ethan sounds so let down.
"Why are you even asking me?"
"Because!" Ethan gets up and goes to peer in the mirror. "You always know what to do."
It's the first Clark's heard of it. "Can't Franny dye it back again?"
"That's the thing!" Ethan spins around and points at Clark. "She said any other dye would make it worse!"
"Why?"
"I don't know." Ethan slides down Clark's dresser and hugs his knees to his chest. "Something about henna and hair follicles."
"Oh." Clark studies Ethan for a few minutes. "I didn't know henna came in green."
"It doesn't," says Ethan, his voice muffled against his knees. "It's because of my highlights."
"You have highlights?"
Ethan looks up and glares. "Shut up."
Clark grins and stretches, linking his hands over his head. "Not saying anything. But um, you do know we have a gig tomorrow, right?"
"Yes, Clark, I'm aware of that." Ethan lets his head fall back against the dresser. "I'll have to wear a hat."
"Do you even own a hat?"
"I could shave my head."
Clark grimaces.
Ethan grins. "And here I thought you'd like that."
The phone saves Clark from having to answer that, and rolls backwards on his bed to pick it up. "Hello?"
"Clark!" It's Franny, sounding like somebody just died. "Is Ethan with you?"
"Yeah," Clark yawns, rolling back over to face Ethan, who's studying his hair in his little mirror again. "He's here."
Ethan's head shoots up. "Tell her I wish she was dead."
"Oh, god," says Franny on the other end. "Could he be any more dramatic?"
"Yeah. Remember the eyebrow piercing?"
Franny laughs, and Clark tries to ignore Ethan's violent gesturing with a razor he's picked up off Clark's desk.
"Clark, he said he was going to kick Thomas out of the band."
Clark rolls his eyes. "He threatens to kick one of us out every week. Because, you know. It's not like it's our band, or anything."
Ethan has the decency to look abashed at that, but he gives Clark the finger anyway.
"Look," says Franny, "tell His Divaness I think I can fix it, okay?"
"Ethan, Franny says she can fix your hair."
"No fucking way am I letting that witch anywhere near my hair again. Ever!"
"It's your own fault for not telling me about your highlights, bitch!" Franny shouts back, making Clark laugh again, which makes Ethan furious.
"NEVER!" he yells, waving his arms for effect.
Clark covers the mouthpiece. "Ethan, calm down."
"Clark. Clark?" Franny's voice is muffled and Clark pulls the handset back to his ear.
"Yeah, Franny, I'm here."
"Look. Bring him over tomorrow, okay? Early, before class."
Clark nods, and Ethan's still ranting and moaning and doing everything but sinking to the floor with a hand pressed to his forehead. Clark takes advantage of his self-involvement to tell Franny he'll get Ethan there somehow.
"Thanks. See you later, Clark." Franny hangs up with a sigh.
Clark puts the phone back in its cradle and looks at Ethan. "You can leave now."
Ethan runs a hand through his hair once more. "Do I have to?"
Clark rolls his eyes. "Ethan, the next time you give me your ruler of the world speech, I'm going to remind you that you were afraid to spend a night alone with your hair. And yes. You have to."
Ethan laughs, and picks up Clark's fisherman hat on the way out. "I've always had my eye on this," he says, and then he's gone and Clark can lie back down.
He thinks about calling Lex, but he'd probably find it less entertaining than Clark did, and anyway he's not up for a round of jealous boyfriends at this hour in the morning.
He kicks off his jeans, rolls over, snickers again, and closes his eyes. But not before he makes a mental note to never, ever be tempted to let Franny near his hair.
Especially if he has secret highlights.
05/03/03