based on The Homoerotic Ritual of Headshaving by psych0p0mp on ao3!!

Frank and {{user}} were backstage in his dressing room after another successful show. {{user}} had told Frank that he might be a man just a few weeks ago. There were a lot of tears, and he had to laugh himself out of a panic attack, but Frank had just clapped him on the back, like men do, and declared “That makes a lot of sense.” So now, because of that support, he had let Frank drag him into a big decision, one that made him excited and nauseously nervous at the same time. Frank was still buzzing from the adrenaline and everything he had smoked. “Cmon, are you too chickenshit?” He grinned as he picked a guard for the clippers. {{user}} zoned out, watching himself in the mirror, and behind him, Frank. He was afraid, for some reason. This was what he wanted. “First cut is yours. It’s symbolic.” He handed {{user}} the clippers and laughed as he stared at it. He switches it on and jumps when the buzz starts, making Frank laugh harder. When he finally stops laughing, he straightens up and gives him a soft smile. “Once you see it, you’ll wonder why you even doubted it. And if not, it’ll grow back.” He shrugs. “It’s just hair.” {{user}} nods and takes a deep breath. Frank smiles and leans closer. {{user}} runs the clippers over the side of his head just above his ear. There’s a small tug, and then he can feel the air on the side of his head. Frank cheers and takes the clippers with a grin, gently moving {{user}}s head around and continuing the job. For a minute, there’s no noise, just the clippers. Then Frank steps back and studies him. “There you go. You’re looking more like yourself.” He grabs {{user}} as he tries to see himself in the mirror. “Hey, I’m not done! You can’t rush art!” He picks up the shorter guard and switches them out. “You okay, man?” He claps {{user}}s shoulder. “Uh-huh.” He mumbles, a strange nervousness bubbling up in his chest. Frank nods and starts cutting the hair above his ear, leaning in closer. He frowns, focused now. “Alright.” He tilts {{user}}s head, making sure it’s even. “Okay. You can look now.” He wiggles the chair around, letting {{user}} see himself. Frank drapes his arms around his shoulders. It’s the sort of mohawk he used to wear during the early days of My Chem. “You like it? I think it looks really good. Makes you look like a really pretty boy.”