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Maybe from others, if Otto heard this sort of talk, he'd punch them in the face for sounding so sure of themselves. Maybe that in itself spoke well of Otto's envy of the confidence of others. Yet it was Chance, and the man only ever spoke genuinely from his heart; no matter how much the man denied he was more than an easy going leaf in the river.

His head already felt a little lighter. The long locks on his neck gone in favour of the touch of room temperature air. He liked his bangs the way they were, so they'd be staying. It really was just the back of his head that felt too long. His hair used to grow slowly, before he joined Deus. Nowadays with a weapon bond, it grew a little faster. Shorter hair allowed it to fluff out some more, no longer weighted down by length.

Time had passed before he realized he'd not said anything to Chance's reply. He simply waited out the haircut, and enjoyed the feeling of fingers threading through.

Otto nodded, patting one of Chance's hands. He stood up, didn't even ask for a mirror, and walked around the chair to properly stand before Chance. He walked right into him, his arms wrapping around the man's waist.

He wasn't hiding. Wasn't looking to bury his problems in Chance. He just needed a hug. That's all.

Otto sniffled stubbornly, as he fully started realizing he was more than a little hurt. It wasn't just something he could brush off, and suddenly be stronger for having let it fall off his shoulders. He wasn't a passive person. He took things personally, seriously. Therefore, pretending he'd be fine would not work. It didn't do the pain justice by ignoring it.

So he admitted to himself; yes, this hurts me. Yes, I want to cry. So maybe I will cry.

His eyes clenched shut against Chance's shoulders, his own shoulders shuddering as he fought to at least keep somewhat quiet in his pain. He wasn't ashamed of himself, at the very least, when it concerned his attraction to Chance. That wasn't why he was crying. It was that someone, maybe even more than one person out there, thought different or badly of him because of it. And if anything hurt Otto more, it was the perception others had of him going poorly.

After all, it's what he worried about more than anything else.

He really wished he didn't need to cry. He wished often he didn't take things so personally, or feel things so deeply. It was one of the more conflicting things for Otto to deal with; needing to vent with someone, but not wanting to come off as needy, weak or emotional. But holding it in and pretending he wasn't as upset as he really was only made it worse.
However, he reminded himself why he was upset right now. It wasn't because of something frivolous or unimportant. Maybe being sad for being called a name was immature and too Grade School, but Otto Graves had never gone to school. It was something he wasn't entirely used to, save for the two month period he attempted High School.

Chance was nothing if not reassuring. Much of the hurt was calmed thanks to a caring hug and soft whisperings. But it helped to let it out. It did. His arms wrapped up firmer behind Chance's back, his face buried more snugly into his shoulder. He let the hurt be what it was, rather than continuing to try and twist it into anger or dismiss it entirely as weak and immature. The hurt was real and he let it be so.

After some time had passed, and the sniffs and choked sobs had gone away, he released Chance at last.

"Sorry.." He murmured, rubbing his eyes dry with his sleeve. "I mean.. thanks.."

"Shitty." He answered with strain, his eyes downcast and unready to meet Chance's yet. "But better." A sniffed again, wincing. "Y'got any Kleenex?" He asked in a grumble. He had a runny nose to deal with.

"It's okay.." He murmured, taking three of the tissues and blowing his nose. Funny enough, clearing that out felt even better than the crying. His head felt nice and light. He let out a breath, his shoulders slackened and less stiff.

"I'll live."

How had he forgotten about the haircut already?

He looked up as the mirror cast his reflection back to him, his hands currently holding a ball of tissues in front of his nose. Ignoring the red, bloodshot eyes, the flushed cheeks from crying? He looked good. He lowered the tissues, turning his head to the side to get a better look at the shorter length. It looked cool. It felt light. It was nice to see himself look a little different.

"It looks good." He murmured, ruffling his hands through the back of his hair. He was looking forward to dealing with less tangles in the morning (but no less bedhead, sadly). "You did a really good job."

Otto leaned back, his arms resting over Chance's. He let his eyes fall shut, a feeling of relaxation overcoming the remaining hurt. "Yeah. But still. ******** the heat." He babbled more like himself, a smirk spreading onto his face.

He leaned his head up to kiss Chance's chin. "I'm gunna go eat. I ain't had my dinner."