Summary: Josee has to start waxing. (Ages: 12/14)

Rating: K+

Warnings: None

AN: (fantastique – fantastic | magnifique – magnificent |mon petit chou – my little darling/sweetheart | nounours – teddybear)


When her mother told her that she would have to give 110% in order to be a world renowned ice dancer, Josée had agreed wholeheartedly. She had done everything her dear mama had asked of her for nearly a decade now, putting any resemblance of a social life on the backburner as she spent all of her time on either a dancefloor, balance beam, gym mat, or ice rink. Thankfully, her best friend was also her partner in all of this, otherwise she would be hopelessly antisocial by now.

But Josée knew that it wasn't enough to be physically able—you had to be beautiful, too. Her mother had been grooming her since she was toddler; brushing and tying her hair into perfectly tight and efficient ponytails and buns, and decorating them in elegant pearls, clips, and bows. She had instructed her on how to apply makeup, and what colors to use. Bright, shiny, and thick makeup was best—it was easy for the crowd to see. And as of last year she was also expected to keep any facial hair plucked, after she started growing some because of stupide puberty.

But plucking was no longer enough, evidently.

She had asked her mother when she would start shaving her legs and underarms, as some of her other classmates had started to do. After her mother inspected said areas with cold concentration, she abruptly informed Josée would have to start waxing her body hair—everywhere. In a panic, Josée tried to argue, something she rarely did with her mother, but was quickly dismissed. Shaving would lead to ingrown hairs, and thicker stubble as time wore on. Waxing was the only option for professionals.

"I'm so scared, Jacjac!" Josée cried tearlessly into his chest. "All the articles say waxing hurts so much! I don't want to do it!"

Jacques didn't know what to do. He was used to Josée throwing fits by now, but this one seemed fairly justified. Josée wasn't even a hairy girl—he would know, they changed in front of each other all the time! A few underarm hairs and thin, soft leg hairs was hardly what he thought of when he imagined someone in desperate need of hair removal.

"I'm sorry, Josée!" He frowned, patting her back like always. "I know it's unfair, but you can do it! You're the toughest person I know! Except maybe my papa.."

Admittedly, he didn't think his papa would wax, but—

"It's not fair!" Josée screamed, knocking him out of his thoughts. "You're much hairier than me, and you don't have to wax!"

Jacques chuckled a little at her huffy face.

"Well, I am a man, Josée. And male dancers don't—well I supposed some male dancers wax, but I—"

"—Jacques!" Josée interrupted suddenly.

Jacques looked down at her and was a little taken aback by her excited, curious expression.

"..oui?"

"Would you.. come with me?" Josée cracked a hopeful smile and squeezed his shirt, eyes shining brighter.

"Like.. come into the spa with you when you go?" He raised a brow in confusion.

"Non, silly! Would you come to get waxed with me!" She bounced a little, already expecting him to say 'yes'. Jacques was horrified.

"W-what? But—why should I—Josée this is unreasonable!" He could feel the back of his neck starting to sweat. Like she said, he was much hairier than she was, and any waxing treatment would be infinitely worse for him than her! How was that fair?

"Aw please, nournours?" Josée tilted her head to the side, resting her temple against his chest. "Please, I don't want to go alone!"

Jacques' heart was pounding. He hardly ever said 'no' to Josée, and she was giving him her usual adorable pleading face—the one where she already knows his answer is 'yes'. He swallowed and looked away.

"How.. how much of my hair would get waxed? All of it?" He pouted. He was so proud of his manly body hair. Josée giggled and hugged him, well aware she had him sunk already.

"All the places I have to get waxed, of course!" She smiled up at him happily. Jacques frowned at her worriedly.

"But Josée—my legs and underarms have much more hair than yours do!" He sulked more as she snuggled him, moving her arms from around his middle to his neck. Arguing was pointless, he was going to go do this with her whether he liked it or not.


Jacques sat nervously with a crisp white towel wrapped around his waist. To his side was an equally nervous Josée, with a matching white towel pulled up over her chest. They were trying to distract themselves by looking at the luxury spa's décor, but it wasn't fabulous enough to take their minds off the impending torture they assumed they'd be going through shortly. Jacques swallowed and looked down towards Josée, who anxiously looked up at him in return. After a moment, two employees greeted them cheerfully. They were two girls who looked to be in their twenties, and glowed with a healthy radiance. They looked over their appointment sheets a moment and started prepping the wax.

"Full Body's for both of you?" One asked with a chipper smile. Jacques and Josée smiled nervously and nodded.

"Magnifique!" The other piped up, snapping on a pair of gloves. The sound made both dancers jump up, and Josée snatched Jacques' hand to squeeze like a stress ball. The employees instructed them to lay on their backs on their respective waxing tables, and they did as they were told, still holding hands across the space between the tables. As the girls prepped more, Jacques and Josée whispered to one another.

"Jacjac I'm so nervous." Josée pouted at him, holding her towel tightly.

"M-me too, mon amie." Jacques trembled a little. He couldn't believe he was doing this, but he couldn't take the idea of Josée all alone being as scared as she was. His want to back out couldn't beat out his love for his dearest partner, so there he stayed, despite shivering with fear.

Both were quickly disrupted from their comforting last words by the spa employees. They gave them a quick pep talk, seeing that this was their first waxing, and then instructed them to lift their arms. Jacques and Josée kept their hands locked, but now raised over their heads like when they were accepting gold on the podium. Jacques turned and frowned at Josée's measly group of thin hairs in her underarm past his own tuft of armpit hair. This was totally unfair! Why were the odds always stacked against him?

The girls started rubbing an oil over their skin, saying it would keep the wax from sticking, and thus made the process hurt less. That relieved the pair a little and they smiled at each other reassuringly. Then, the employees spread a thick purple goo over their underarm hair. Upon seeing the teens confused faces, they explained that it was a "hard wax", and would also make the process less painful. The pair didn't seem very convinced, but the warmth of the wax felt almost nice on their panicking skin. The employees gave them a countdown, and then swiped the layer of wax off in unison.

Josée's shriek gagged in the back of her throat, but Jacques' did not. Josée looked at him in shocked embarrassment, and Jacques quickly bit his finger to muffle his sobs. The employees offered comforting words, but it did little to help him. Another strip of wax was smoothed over their pits, and with another swipe, Jacques screamed for his mother.

Josée felt her cheeks reddening from embarrassment at his outbursts. This wasn't anywhere near as bad as the magazines said! Painful, yes, but nothing like a twisted ankle, or being dropped head first onto the ice. Jacques was always such a baby.

He managed to yelp through every wax strip on their armpits, and a tiny peep escaped him while their eyebrows got done. Josée teared up a little when they did her lip, but blinked back the tears. She was no baby, and she did not cry!

Then came legs. Josée admitted that the waxing of her leg hair hurt considerably more than her armpits. Maybe Jacques' treatment was worse because his hair was thicker... everywhere. It didn't give him the right to cry and scream though! Jacques begged to differ, and sobbed into his palm while his waxer finished his second leg. After she finished, both employees said what the duo had been dreading;

"Alright you two, towels up! We're doing the Bikini now." They smiled just as gleefully as before. Jacques was starting to suspect they were sadists.

Josée squeezed his hand and they looked at one another with worried expressions. Jacques managed to smile supportively and give her hand a squeeze back. Josée returned a nervous smile and they both tugged their towels up. They were then told to "butterfly their legs", which was basically putting their feet together and bringing their heels up to their respective butts, with their knees lying flat on the table. Of all the poses they'd learned to not be embarrassed about, this was not one of them, especially while being nude below the waist. They stared off into space awkwardly, and squeezed each other's hand tightly as they prepared for what was to come.

"I love you, Josée." Jacques whispered sadly, as though he might die. Josée didn't have the breath to tell him he was an idiot. The employees gave them a warning again, and upon ripping the wax off, two high-pitch shrieks echoed in the room.

"Hah-hah! That wasn't so bad." Josée laughed, now that her skin wasn't aching from forceful hair removal. It also helped that they were going to go enjoy a nice sauna to open up their pores, and then a scrub to get any remnants of oil and hair out.

"I… guess." Jacques waddled behind her, keeping his gait wide as he walked. Truthfully, it was only painful for the second that it was happening, and most of his tears were out of fear. But there were a lot of seconds! And his groin was still sore. His lip wibbled in remorse—he had just grown all that hair!

"All my manly body hair…" He mourned softly again.

"Oh be quiet you big baby!" Josée scoffed and tugged up her towel again. 'Manly body hair' indeed! Jacques grumbled a little in response, but nothing she could make out. As they found their way to their private sauna, Josée stopped short of opening the door. Jacques raised a brow at her in confusion while he waited for her to enter the room. Suddenly she turned around and popped up on her tiptoes, and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Merci, nounours." She smiled up at him appreciatively. He might be a big baby, but she didn't know any boys his age that would give up their freshly grown 'manly body hair' for anyone. Mama always said they were such babies about pain too, but Jacques persevered for her!

Jacques gave her a lopsided smile and opened the door for her, bowing graciously. Josée giggled and bounced into the sauna, followed shortly by her partner.


AN: Epilogue would be Jacques rubbing his face all over his own leg and sighing "smooooooth :)"

Speaking from personal experience, waxing is a pain! But ice dancers need to be as aerodynamic as possible, right? Well, at least ice dancers as obsessed with appearances and winning as Jacques and Josée do! LOL

Jacques is still happy with his armpit hair when he's allowed to have it, but Josée always thinks it should be waxed.