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Honestly, he had been both anticipating and dreading the next afternoon ever since Jimin had smiled at him from his desk last Friday and said, “I found someone to fill that empty three o’clock on Wednesday! Dr. Dimples called and said it was an emergency. I figured you wouldn’t mind.”
He did mind, Park Jimin, but Seokjin couldn’t say anything. After all, the two of them both knew that Seokjin looked forward to every appointment with Dr. Kim- who Jimin insisted on calling Dr. Dimples after the first time the university professor had grinned at his reflection from Seokjin’s chair. That first time he had just wanted a simple cut for his new job teaching English at the SNU as an assistant professor, and Seokjin had scoffed.
“I’m not a barber, Dr. Kim. I’m a stylist,” he’d argued, putting a hand on his hip and glaring at the sheepish man through the mirror. “Do you want to look nice for your new job or do you want to put your students to sleep with something drab?”
“Ah, sorry, of course.” Dr. Kim had given him a tiny, apologetic smile, which was enough for Seokjin. “I’ll shut up and let you work, Seokjin-ssi.”
And he had. While the cut was nice- tapered sides and back with a longer fringe that Seokjin had styled in waves in the front- it was simple enough for a man who wasn’t used to styling his hair. Popular with idols but easy for a university professor to play with in the morning. He had been tempted to colour it, but the time restraint and Dr. Kim’s timidity with a new stylist had prevented it. Still, it had looked great on him, and Seokjin made sure to describe each step of the process so the professor could replicate it if he wanted.
“But,” the stylist had said with a smirk, “if you do well enough at the university, we can see about booking you weekly appointments so I can just fix it for you.” He hadn’t been able to keep himself from running his fingers through the fringe, loving the feeling of the locks slipping between his fingers. He had pretended that he was just adding touches onto the final style, but honestly, there weren’t many customers that came in the first time with hair so soft. He wished a little that Dr. Kim would come in each week so he could play with his hair.
Still, when he had finished and taken off the bib, he had been a little blown away by the smile that Dr. Kim had given him in the mirror. Or the deep dimples that had been embedded in each cheek. Jimin had squealed from the desk at the sight of them, but Dr. Kim had obviously thought it was over the haircut.
“It’s great, right? Ah, it looks so nice. You’re so talented, Seokjin-ssi.” He’d sat still as Seokjin brushed the loose hair off his neck and shoulders but turned when he was finished to turn the smile to the stylist himself. “I’ll have to come back.”
And he did. Dr. Kim often came every couple of months- usually around midterms and finals seasons as a way to destress. For a while, it had been difficult to get him to open up about his personal life. Seokjin tried to respect it since Dr. Kim seemed like such a private man, but he could get the professor to talk about school all day. There were some sessions in which Dr. Kim complained about students who asked for better grades after not coming to class all semester or waxed poetic about a particular essay one student had turned in about a Victorian writer.
Of course, Seokjin listened to him and offered his commentary when it made sense, but he preferred to let his client talk. The way that Dr. Kim carried on sometimes about Shakespeare or Postmodernism made Seokjin feel like he was in a classroom again, though he’d only gone to beauty school rather than attempt university. Dr. Kim’s voice was enough to captivate the room, but his passion behind the words enthralled not just Seokjin but anyone else who happened to be in the room as well.
It was easy to tell he was an intelligent man, but he was kind as well. He made sure to be respectful to all the staff, and there were even a few times he left Seokjin and Jimin a tip. And he didn’t take no for an answer.
But as great as Dr. Kim’s brain was, Seokjin had to admit he was also infatuated with the outside of his skull as well. After the first few appointments, he finally worked up the courage to ask the professor if he could colour his hair, even if it was just a few shades lighter than his natural colour.
“I figured that since it was the summer, we could experiment. You have over a month before you have to go back to work, so it’s perfect.”
Surprisingly, Dr. Kim had agreed immediately. When he noticed Seokjin’s surprise, he had just laughed shortly and rubbed the back of his neck. “I used to bleach and dye my hair a lot when I was in undergrad. Though, I usually did it myself, so-”
But Seokjin had stopped listening, his mind spinning with images of Dr. Kim- shy and timid Dr. Kim who wore big cable-knit sweaters and sometimes a pair of big, blocky glasses- with hair dyed pink and purple and green. He immediately went to the back room where he and his coworkers kept their dye and started starting at the wall of possibilities.
“Sorry about him, Dr. Kim,” he heard Jimin saying in the other room. “I’m sure he’s just thinking over what he can do. It’s not often he has people coming in to colour their hair. He’s probably pretty excited.”
“That’s fine. Seokjin-ssi can do what he wants. I’m happy to place myself in his capable hands.”
They’d managed to get him to a soft honey blonde by the end of the break, and, when it was time to touch up on roots and trim the ends, Dr. Kim had come in to tell him all about how his students had reacted to his hair. And, rather than ask Seokjin to change it back to something more conservative, he’d asked if he could try a dark pink for the coming spring.
That had been a couple weeks ago, and Seokjin had sent the professor off proudly, basking in the beautiful, dimpled smile that he’d been blessed with when it was all said and done. It was odd for Dr. Kim to be in so soon, and he was worried about what the “emergency” Jimin had mentioned was.
Taehyung watched him from the reception desk, sitting on top of the counter and waiting for Jimin to get back with their coffee. Seokjin was clearing up the hair from his last client, but anyone who knew him well could tell by the frown on his face that something was bothering him. Still, Taehyung also knew him well enough that he just kept staring at him, waiting for it to boil over by itself.
And sure enough, Seokjin blew out an irritated sigh. “I hope Dr. Kim didn’t get in trouble with his boss over the hair colour. Blonde might be okay, but maybe the pink was too bold for them. Aish, I wish he had been more specific when he called. He didn’t book a slot long enough for more than a simple cut, so I can’t tell what to expect.” He dumped the hair in a nearby trash can and started pulling out all his tools and combs to sanitise them.
“Ah, hyung, how did I know that you were thinking about Dr. Dimples?” He didn’t like the smirk on Taehyung’s face; it reminded him too much of Jimin. The younger two were thick as thieves and were constantly giving Seokjin grief. Of course, they were as cute as they were devious, so he could never hold anything against them. But he’d long ago learned that it was bad news when either one of them started to give him that look.
Especially when it was about Dr. Kim. “And what about it? He’s the client that I’m seeing tomorrow. There’s nothing weird about that.”
Taehyung grinned at him, a boxy smile that, despite himself, made Seokjin melt a little. He remembered a time when Taehyung had approached him and the other stylists that work at the salon and asked to rent out a chair. He’d been so young and small, bright orange hair sticking out in all directions and clutching a bag of scissors and combs, promising not to be too much trouble. He’d been put in the chair beside Seokjin, closest to the wall, but he’d slowly worked up a base of loyal clients.
He really loved Jimin and Taehyung, like two little puppies that he wanted to give treats and attention. He often invited them over for dinner, especially after Taehyung mentioned living alone in a really tiny apartment without even a stove. And when they weren’t coming over, he was making them doshiraks or bringing in leftovers from the night before for them to take home for dinner. They were just so cute, and it helped that Jimin always laughed at his jokes.
Still, there were plenty of times that they took advantage of their hyung’s love for them to be little punks, and this was starting to look like one of those times. Taehyung shrugged at his question, hopping down from the counter and going to the closet they kept the cleaning supplies in. “I’ve seen your work calendar, hyung, remember? It’s a little obvious when Dr. Dimples is the only person whose name you write out. With everyone else, you just write their initials. If it was a physical calendar, you would probably put hearts beside his name.”
“Yah! Why would I do that? Just because I like having him for a client doesn’t mean I feel any certain way about him as a person! I just like playing with his hair, and he lets me do whatever I want with it. That’s exciting!” Taehyung turned from the closet to give him a kissy face, laughing when Seokjin threw a comb at him. “You punk! Worry about your own love life!”
The younger stylist laughed but gave Seokjin another smirk. “I have that on lock. Hoseok-hyung is coming next week to touch up his roots, and I’m going to ask him to take me on a date.”
“Wow! Maybe he’ll take you on so many dates I won’t need to feed you anymore.”
Taehyung practically flew across the room, clutching onto the elder with all his might. “No, hyung, please, there’s no one who can make bulgogi like you. How can I eat meat when someone other than my favourite hyung makes it?”
“Why are you clinging to Seokjin-hyung? You should be clinging to me!” Jimin called from the door, carrying a tray of four coffees from the cafe down the street.
“Jimin, hyung’s trying to say he won’t make me food anymore because I want to date Hoseok-hyung. Tell him I’ll die without his food.”
The blonde laughed and set the drinks down. “Hyung won’t stop making you food, Tae. You know he needs someone to baby and spoil, and it’s not going to be Dr. Dimples anytime soon.”
Seokjin gave them both an irritated look. “Maybe I’ll stop cooking for both of you! Why am I being bullied like this?”
“Did the professor say what he’s coming in tomorrow for, Jimin?” Taehyung asked, letting go of Seokjin and obviously trying to change the subject.
Jimin shook his head, coming over to give Seokjin his coffee. The older man accepted it with a smile before taking a huge gulp. He was exhausted, and he still had so much cleaning to do. The towels, the equipment, the counters. And with these two ganging up on him, he knew he would need the caffeine to kick in as soon as possible.
“Not really. He just said it was an emergency and accepted the open hour. If it had something to do with colouring, I’m sure he would have asked for more time.” He sat down in Seokjin’s empty chair as he watched the two stylists start running hot water into the tubs they used for their scissors and combs. “You said he’s clumsy, right, hyung? Maybe he singed some hair.”
Seokjin made a noncommittal noise, dropping the equipment one at a time into the water for it to soak. He could feel the two sharing a look behind him, but it didn’t matter. He was still nervous about Dr. Kim getting in trouble at work. He really hoped Jimin was right and it wasn’t something too serious.
The next afternoon, a pin could have dropped in the salon, and everyone would have heard it. Because Dr. Kim, cute and bashful Dr. Kim, with his pink hair styled off his forehead and an embarrassed smile on his face, was standing tall next to a boy who could have only been five years old. The boy definitely took after his father, twinkling doe eyes and a shy, dimpled smile.
And missing half of his bangs.
“I’m sorry I didn’t specify who the appointment was for, Seokjin-ssi. I didn’t realise until we were halfway here that I never did.”
Seokjin had been raised to stay polite and pull himself together fairly quickly before situations could get awkward, so he just waved the professor off and turned his attention to the little boy beside him… after checking again that Dr. Kim wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.
“No problem. I can see what the emergency was about. Did someone try to cut his own hair?” He got a small nod in response, and his heart just turned into goo. He could hear Jimin cooing from the reception desk and had to agree. What a cute kid.
“He was excited because he got a new pair of scissors and thought that he should try them out on his hair.” Dr. Kim looked tired, so Seokjin just gestured for the two of them to come back to his chair.
“And what is your name, young man?” the stylist asked as he lowered the seat enough for the boy to sit in.
“Jungkook!” Jungkook stared in wonder as he was raised back into view of the mirror and gave his reflection a big grin. When he saw Seokjin staring at him, though, he ducked his head.
“You didn’t tell me you had a son, Dr. Kim! What a handsome boy. He must be so smart if he has a dad like you.” Seokjin grabbed his spray bottle and began wetting the boy’s hair. “I see he inherited your thick hair as well.”
Jungkook was a dear and let him flop his bangs all over the place, and Seokjin was rewarded with a small giggle. He made a silly face at the boy in the mirror, which made the giggles grow, and he wondered why Dr. Kim would hide such a darling from him.
“You’ve been seeing me for how long now?” he called back the professor. “Where have you been going for his hair? Kids deserve cute haircuts, too!” He started cutting the boy’s hair, and he heard Dr. Kim sigh behind him.
“Ah, his mother usually has his hair cut.” Seokjin watched him adjust his tie in the mirror. “We’re, uh, not together anymore and haven’t been for awhile. He spends most of his time with her.”
“Eomma is on a business trip, so I get to stay with Appa every day!” Jungkook wiggled with excitement, and Seokjin had to ask him quietly to hold still so he didn’t mess up. The boy’s excitement didn’t dim too much though, even as he stilled, and Seokjin could tell how much he loved his father.
It reassured him more than he wanted to admit that Dr. Kim and Jungkook’s mother were no longer together and that Jungkook liked his father a lot. People often thought kids were too simple to do anything but worship their parents, but children were often the best indicator of their parents’ personalities.
“Ah, so when you were staying with your appa, you cut your hair? I bet your eomma will be very surprised when she sees your hair.” Seokjin turned to Dr. Kim. “Unfortunately, I’ll have to cut all of it short to disguise the shorter bangs, but I’ll add some layers to it so it still looks good. After all, you two are a handsome set; I can’t have you leaving my chair looking anything less than perfect.”
“Thank you, Seokjin-ssi. I really appreciate it.” The professor seemed tense, rubbing his jaw and neck in the silence that fell over the three of them. He was staring at Seokjin a lot in the mirror, sometimes even biting his lip before going back to rubbing his neck.
“Does your neck hurt, Dr. Kim? You’re rubbing it a lot! I could get you an ice pack!” Ah, so Jimin had noticed, too. However, instead of the mischievous smirk Seokjin was expecting the receptionist to have, he genuinely looked concerned. Of course, it was partially to make Dr. Kim flustered, and the professor turned bright red.
“No, I’m just worried over what his mother will say when she finds out I let him cut his hair.” He laughed a little, either due to his obvious anxiety or despite it. “But, Jungkook, remember that, now that we have Seokjin-ssi to cut your hair when you’re with Appa, you have to wait until we can see him to do anything.”
“Besides brushing it, of course,” Seokjin added with a little wink. He was almost done with the cut, running his razor tool through different parts to lighten up the ends. “But, I would love to see you when you need a haircut with your appa! Dr. Kim, please start bringing him even if it’s not to cut his hair. He’s too cute!”
“Can you dye my hair like you did Appa’s?” Jungkook suddenly asked, vibrating in place in an obvious attempt to hold himself still for Seokjin while still getting fired up in the way kids do.
“Maybe! Would you like pink, too?”
Jungkook didn’t immediately frown and look disgusted at the idea, which gave Seokjin a lot of hope about the next generation of boys. Instead, he thoughtfully paused before chirping, “Nope! I want red! I like red!”
“Ah, red, gotcha.” He shared a look in the mirror with Dr. Kim, who just smiled and shook his head. What can you do? “Well, we can’t do it today, unfortunately, because our time is almost over, but talk to your eomma and appa about it some more. They can help you figure out a good time to make your hair red.”
“We have to leave soon?” Jungkook sounded distraught, but Seokjin gave him a reassuring smile. “Why?”
“Ah, well, I’m almost done! You can’t stay here forever! And it’s starting to get late. What will you eat if you don’t leave?” Jungkook slumped, looking stumped, but straightened up when it was time to blow-dry his hair.
Still, he brightened up real quick when Jimin offered him a piece of candy at the cash register. Seokjin followed them over after he had swept the hair up a little from Taehyung’s side.
“So, Dr. Kim, how have your students been reacting to the pink hair?” Jimin was asking when Seokjin made it to the group. “Do they like it?”
“A lot. They think it’s very stylish.” He glanced over his shoulder, and Seokjin saw another man standing outside the salon, smoking a cigarette. “Ah, Kookie, Uncle Yoongi is here to pick us up! Why don’t you go say hi to him while I pay?”
“Okay, bye!” Seokjin watched, bemused, as the boy took off like a bullet, racing outside and into the man’s arms. The boy collided with him so hard that the other man dropped the cigarette, and they both almost hit the ground.
“Aish, that kid.” Dr. Kim looked back at them sheepishly. “Thank you for being so polite, Seokjin-ssi.”
“About what? You being a father?” Dr. Kim winced, but it was answer enough. “It’s fine with me. Not everyone who has a child has to be married. We’re very modern here, Dr. Kim.”
“Namjoon.” As Seokjin’s puzzled expression, he blushed even harder. “You were right. I have been going here for awhile. And not even my students call me Dr. Kim.” The professor smiled, his dimples appearing in full force, and the sight took Seokjin’s breath away. “Please, call me Namjoon.”
That’s it. I’m toast. Killed by dimples.
“Then you should call me hyung, if we’re being informal with each other.” That made Dr. Kim- no, Namjoon- duck his head, but the other man nodded.
“Of course, hyung.”
“Now, pay Jimin-ah here and go outside to your little boy. His uncle can only distract him so long.”
But, when they turned back to Jimin, the receptionist had his eyes glued to the two figures outside. Jimin didn’t realise they were talking to him until Seokjin nudged him with an elbow and snapped him out of whatever daze he was in.
Still, even though all three of them were flustered, Namjoon was able to pay and get out the door quickly enough. And while Seokjin thought the professor’s smile was beautiful a moment ago, the smile he gave his son as the boy jumped around in excitement was enough to make him weak in the knees. He sat down in the spot next to Jimin with a huff and stared at the retreating figures. Thankfully, Jimin was in the same boat as he was, so anyone who walked into the salon at that moment would have been greeted by the two of them blinking and staring off into space.
As fate would have it, he ran into Namjoon again only a couple weeks later. He wouldn’t have noticed the other man except for his hair, since Seokjin was so distracted. But he was always able to spot his handiwork no matter his condition. So, when he hurried past the bread aisle and saw a flash of muted pink, he stopped in his tracks. All thoughts of noodles and where the supermarket had moved them- again, because god forbid anything just stay in the same spot week after week- vanished as he took in the professor crouching to compare prices of two brands.
He started to steer his cart into the aisle but stopped himself before he could get the first wheel in. Don’t be creepy. He’s your client, he chastised himself, banishing the desire to go up to the other man and greet him. He still wasn’t sure how close they were, even after agreeing to address each other informally, and he didn’t want to come across as weird.
However, he couldn’t have felt more awkward walking up to Namjoon than how he felt when Namjoon happened to look up and see him frozen in place at the beginning of the aisle. He was polite enough to smile at the stylist, straightening out. He made his way over to Seokjin, still smiling, and the other man forced his brain to reconnect with his face long enough to smile back.
“Seokjin-ssi.” Namjoon winced. “Ah, sorry, hyung. Force of habit. Hi.”
“Hello.” Seokjin glanced back at the other man’s cart. “Do you live around here, then?” If he did, they must be on opposite schedules completely because he’d never seen the other man anywhere near there.
“No, my friend does. I’m shopping for him.” He gestured to the bread. “I’m looking into doing some meal prep for him to just put in the fridge and then warm up later. He doesn’t eat much because he’s busier than I am.”
“Is this the same friend that joined you at the salon? Yoongi-ssi?”
Namjoon grinned. “Yes. We met in undergrad and have stuck together this long. He helps me take care of Jungkook sometimes.”
“And how is Jungkook? Did his mother like his hair?” Seokjin laughed. “Of course she did, what am I saying? But what was her reaction? Was it a gasp of delight? Or just silent awe?”
The professor laughed and nodded. “She was very impressed. She cried a little, but they were good tears." Seokjin nodded. They couldn’t be anything but good tears “I showed her that evening on Facetime, and she took about ten screenshots of him during the call.” He pulled out his phone, and Seokjin noted the cracked screen with a little smile. “These are some photos she took of him the other day. He was trying to style his hair by himself.”
Namjoon clicked on a video amongst all the photos, and Seokjin immediately cooed at the sight of the child with a comb in front of the mirror. He was trying to coif his bangs the same way Namjoon wore them, and whoever was recording kept giggling as Jungkook stared at his reflection seriously. His bangs were still very short, but the boy didn’t look deterred.
“Eomma, how do I look? Do I look like Appa?” he called, and when he turned to look at the camera, Seokjin noticed the little bunny stool the boy stood on. “Eomma, stop recording me!”
“I’m sending this to Appa! Don’t you wanna show him how cute you look, Kookie?”
“Eommaaa!”
“Okay, okay, I’ll turn it off.”
Seokjin chuckled, as the video ended on with the boy pouting at his mother. “He’s so cute. I wish I could have met him earlier.” He glared at Namjoon playfully. “Kim Namjoon, how could you keep such a sweet boy from me? After how long I’ve taken care of you, this is the thanks I get?”
“H-Hyung, come on,” the professor whined. “It wasn’t like I hid him from you. I just never had him on the days I came to get my haircut. I usually don’t get to see him until the weekend, and our appointments are usually during the week.”
Seokjin nodded and glanced back at the phone. Jungkook was really cute. When Seokjin had realised he was gay all those years ago, he had convinced himself that having a child around wasn’t possible. Most of the men he’d dated over the years didn’t want children or hadn’t stopped to think about the future long enough to decide if they did or not. But, maybe, with Namjoon-
No it wasn’t appropriate. It was one thing when Hoseok had walked into the saloon and fell in love with Taehyung at first sight, flirting with the younger stylist like it was his job. It was a whole other thing when Seokjin knew that Namjoon had been in a male-female relationship which had resulted in a child. They’d never actually discussed sexuality when Namjoon had been in his chair, just gender norms and how absurd they were, so there was no telling if the professor was actually gay or just an ally.
He forced a smile on his face and forced the feelings that he had for Namjoon- that, yes, Jimin and Taehyung, were there and alive and sometimes kept him up at night- back down into the corner of his brain where they usually lived. “It’s okay, Namjoon-ah. I understand. Hyung was just messing with you.”
Namjoon relaxed but a text alert on his phone had him frowning a little. “Ah, it’s Yoongi-hyung. He’s starting to get hungry and texted to ask where I am.” He locked his phone and put it back in his pocket. “It was nice seeing you, Seokjin-hyung. Thank you again for helping Jungkook.”
Seokjin nodded and pointed at his hair. “Remember to book an appointment soon to freshen your colour up. It’s not as bright as it was, and I won’t have you walking around with exposed roots.”
The professor nodded. “Of course, hyung. I’ll call in the morning to schedule soon. I forgot how much upkeep colour is.”
They said their goodbyes, and Seokjin struggled to remember what he’d been looking for as he watched that flash of pink disappear down the aisle.
When he returned home with his groceries, Taehyung and Jimin were already there, fighting over what to watch on television. However, after one glance at the elder’s face, they popped up from the couch and rushed over.
“Hyung, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
Oh, was he? He touched his fingers to his face and was shocked when he noticed his cheeks were indeed wet. Seokjin sighed and went to the kitchen to set his bags down. He wasn’t sure when it had started, but he guessed it was probably on the bus home when he’d started daydreaming about waking up in the morning to style Namjoon and Jungkook’s hair and send them both to school before going to work. Or when he’d thought about how sad he would be if Namjoon decided colouring his hair was too much of an upkeep and stopped, which would then lead to him eventually going back to a barber rather than sitting in Seokjin’s chair because if colouring his hair was too much upkeep then styling it was next.
Or when he told himself over and over to stop falling in love with a man who probably would never feel the same about him. And that not everyone got the cute barbershop love story that Taehyung and Hoseok had.
“Hyung, I’m worried what’s wrong?” Jimin asked, standing in the doorway of the kitchen with Taehyung hovering behind him. “Did something happen at the store?”
“I’m fine, Jiminie,” he lied. “Just tired.”
The younger two looked at each other, and Seokjin could have laughed at the twin expressions on their faces. They really were soulmates. Still, he continued to unpack and put away the groceries, leaving out the ingredients he needed for dinner.
In his mind’s eye, he could see Namjoon leaning against the counter beside him, going into a long spiel about whatever topic they were covering in his class that day and how the students had reacted to it. If he let himself concentrate more, he could almost hear a soft voice in the living room giggling along to a children’s show.
Maybe I’m too old for love, he mused, scoffing at himself.
“Hyung, you’re not too old!” Taehyung whined, and Seokjin dropped the box of noodles he was holding. He hadn’t realised he had said that out loud. “Is that why you’re crying?”
“Did you run into someone at the store, hyung?”
Seokjin nodded, knowing they would just continue to ask him questions until he answered. “I saw Dr. Kim at the store. He was visiting a friend that lives nearby and helping him with shopping.” He picked up the box and placed it in the cabinet. “We looked at pictures of his son on his phone, and he thanked me for cutting his hair. He said that he would call tomorrow to get his colour touched up, so make sure to let me know, Jimin-ah, when he does.”
“You are in love with him, hyung!” Taehyung gasped, sounding really pleased with himself, despite Jimin’s hissed Taehyung-ah. “I knew it!”
“I’m not sure if it’s love, but I know that it can’t happen.”
Taehyung's smile dropped “What? What do you mean, hyung? Of course it could happen! Look at Hoseok-hyung and I! We started with just a normal stylist/customer relationship, and now we’re going on our third date on Friday! Why couldn’t it happen for you and Dr. Dimples?”
“Stop calling him that.” Seokjin did his best to keep the bite out of his voice. “This is hard enough without thinking of his dimples on top of everything.” And how nice it would be to wake up to a dimpled smile on the pillow next to him. And across the dinner table while Jungkook chattered away about his week beside them. And-
“You’re making it hard for yourself, hyung.” Jimin had moved closer, and Seokjin sighed when he felt the man’s hand wrap around his. “I mean, if you like him, what’s the harm in just asking him? The worst he could say is no.”
“No, the worst he could say is that he’s disgusted with it or that he regrets letting his son near me or-”
“Come on, hyung, don’t be silly. I’ve been listening to the things he talks about when he’s in your chair, and I really doubt that Mr. ‘Gender is a social construct’ and ‘I’m looking for gay authors for my one-credit hour class this semester’ will be disgusted by you asking him out. And I especially doubt he would regret letting Jungkook around you.”
“You don’t know that. Sometimes, men are fine with gay people until the moment another man hits on them.” His hands were shaking, and the edges of his vision darkened. “I’ve been through this before, Jimin. Sweet, liberal boys who wax poetic about free sex and not being defined by society suddenly turning nasty the moment they smell someone is gay around them. Not to mention what he could do if he left a review that I came onto him. I could ruin the shop!”
“So what, hyung?” Taehyung stepped closer, an uncharacteristic frown on his face. “So what about the shop? You think all the women who come in there don’t know we’re gay already? You think the few men who come in aren’t gay themselves? Or are fine with being around potentially gay people?”
“We could all lose our jobs!”
“We could have lost our jobs when I asked Hoseok-hyung out, too,” Taehyung argued. “You didn’t keep me from pursuing him. You didn’t get worried about bad reviews then. What’s so different about this situation?”
Seokjin laughed, but he was too high-strung to sound anything but sarcastic. “Taehyungie, that man looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky. We knew from day one he would say yes if you asked him out. There was no way he wouldn’t.”
“And you think Dr. Kim doesn’t look at you like that, hyung?” Jimin demanded, and Seokjin froze. He what? The receptionist just scoffed at his hyung’s flabbergasted expression, throwing his hands up in the air and walking away from his hyung just to turn and stare at him. He then turned to Taehyung. “Get my phone for the living room, would you, Tae-Tae? We have to show Hyung how caught up in his head he is.” When the younger rushed to get it, Jimin turned back to Seokjin and said, “You know, between Dr. Kim being stuck in his head about his theories and stories and you being stuck in your own head too long to notice him trying to impress you, I worry about that little boy when the two of you decide to zone out at the same time.”
“Got it!” Taehyung returned with the phone, and Jimin immediately unlocked it, swiping through screens until he found what he was looking for. Taehyung looked over his friend’s shoulder and giggled. “I didn’t know you took pictures of them, Jiminie. He looks so obvious there!”
Seokjin’s stomach dropped. “Who? Me? Can you tell when I’m working?” He rushed over to Jimin’s side as well and looked at the screen. However, what he saw instead made him wheeze.
It was a screenshot from SnapChat. Namjoon was smiling at Seokjin through the mirror as the stylist frowned at the professor’s hair, apparently so caught up in what he was doing to look at the mirror, too. However, the smile was almost identical to the fond, loving smile the man had given his son. The definition of heart eyes. The caption below just said, “Get you a man that looks at you like this.”
Jimin swiped to the side again, and this time there was a video. He allowed Seokjin to take the phone from him to get a better look. The caption this time was just the monkey emoji covering his eyes, and it was obvious why when he watched Namjoon’s expression blink between obviously in love to polite joy when Seokjin looked up to meet eyes with him in the mirror. As soon as the stylist looked back down again, however, Namjoon went back to making heart eyes, and Jimin recording the video giggled quietly behind the camera.
Taehyung in the video whispered quietly, “Do you think Hyung will catch him one of these days?” before the video stopped.
And Seokjin just stared at the screen until it turned black. He could hear Jimin and Taehyung trying not to laugh beside him, but he was honestly too shocked to scold them. Jimin carefully took the phone from his hands and put it back in his pocket, whispering to Taehyung about their hyung being broken.
“How old is that video?” he asked finally, even though he knew that it was at least a year old based on the tee shirt the professor had been wearing. When Namjoon had visited him to get his hair coloured pink, he’d been wearing a dark sweater. Before that, to bleach it, it had been a blazer over a shirt from the college. Before that-
“It’s from last April. Do you believe us now, hyung?” Taehyung hugged him from behind, chin digging into Seokjin’s shoulder, and it was grounding enough that Seokjin remembered he should nod. Jimin giggled again.
“Ah, hyung, so what do you want to do now? He’ll be back soon to get his hair touched up, you said, so maybe you could test the waters then?”
At Seokjin’s shaky exhale, Taehyung squeezed him a little harder. “Don’t worry, hyung, we’ll help you out. Jimin and I are great at this. We’ll help you bag Dr. Dimples in no time!” The younger stylist let go but started to shake Seokjin. “Now, c’mon, hyung! I’m hungry!”
Aish, this kid. “Of course, my bottomless pit. Let Hyung feed you so you don’t waste away. Grab the kimchi from the fridge. Jimin, set the table.”
He watched fondly as they rushed to follow his directions, chanting about food and nudging each other out of the way to get to their destination. Seokjin shook his head and glanced back to the counter he’d imagined Namjoon leaning against wistfully, wondering what the professor would be like in the kitchen or little Jungkook.
Well, Seokjinnie, only one way to find out, huh?
It was another three weeks before Namjoon could make it back to the salon, and it was enough time for Seokjin to convince himself not to tell Namjoon and then convince himself again to tell him. Three weeks of Taehyung and Jimin searching through his closet and then ultimately deciding that Seokjin needed to go shopping for the perfect outfit in order to ask. Three weeks of Hoseok slowly cementing himself more and more into Taehyung’s- and thus Seokjin’s- life and joining the younger two in teasing him about the professor.
Hoseok was in the salon getting his hair coloured red the day Namjoon was supposed to come, and Seokjin could hear him whispering with Taehyung about something while they watched Seokjin prepare everything for Namjoon’s session. There were a few regulars who were glancing at Seokjin a lot while murmuring to their respective stylists. And while he understood why, it didn’t help his anxiety at all as he rushed around.
Because his ever-so-helpful dongsaengs had bought him a shirt that was better suited for clubbing than for work, even if he was trying to seduce a client. It was a black button up, except part of the upper half was made of glossy, translucent material that showed off his shoulders and pecs. When he tried it on in the store, it hadn’t seemed so transparent, but once he stepped outside his apartment this morning, he quickly realised that he was flashing everyone. Taehyung and Jimin had been beyond pleased, little smirks on their face as they rubbed the fabric and complimented him. The real embarrassment had been when he realised that, if he bent over too much, his nipples were almost on display.
He paused in front of the laundry room and looked down at his shirt again. “Maybe I should just change or something. I should have a spare apron in the back.”
“No, hyung, don’t!” Jimin whined, jumping up from the desk. “You look fine!”
“Jimin, I’m trying to ask him out,” he hissed, trying to keep his voice low so the clients that were watching didn’t hear, “not shave a couple years off his life.”
“The only thing you’re gonna do is make him cream his pants, hyung, and you know it.” Jimin stroked the material again, and Seokjin let him, albeit while he seethed. “Listen, if you’re really worried about flashing him, just tuck it in or something. It’ll help keep the shirt in place, right? Hyung, it would really be a shame if you didn’t show off these shoulders and your pecs. I mean, really, think about the expression he made in the video. Don’t you want his eyes to bug out of his head?”
“I don’t know, I just-” They both froze as the bell above the door chimed, and Seokjin felt his soul leave his body when he realised Namjoon had walked in and was looking right at him. He had obviously just come from work because he was still wearing his glasses and a soft grey cardigan over a plain white shirt. He’d obviously had a rough day because his hair was all ruffled like he’d run his fingers through it a lot. But the smile he gave Seokjin when he realised the stylist could see him was so bright.
“Dr. Kim, hello!” Jimin greeted, a shit-eating grin on his face when he looked back at Seokjin.
Still, he was a professional first, so he called to the professor, “I’ll be with you in a moment! I just have to grab a few things. Jimin will sign you in, and then you can just come on back.”
Namjoon nodded, and that was all Seokjin needed to duck into the supplies room to hide. After taking just a moment to breathe, he started to tuck in the shirt like Jimin had said, but that almost seemed to make the problem worse, pulling the shirt down even further. He panicked and started searching for an apron to wear over it, but either the younger two had anticipated his meltdown or the aprons were all dirty because he couldn’t find one anywhere. There wasn’t even a colour-stained shirt to change into. He groaned.
I can’t just hide in here, thought. Namjoon’s waiting for me. He untucked the shirt and pulled it down from the back a little, which made things a little better. No matter what happens today, I’m going to skin those two alive.
Namjoon was relaxing in his chair when Seokjin came out with the colour he’d mixed, and he visibly perked up when he saw the stylist in the mirror again. However, Namjoon’s smile slowly slipped into a more blank expression while his cheeks turned bright red the more he looked at Seokjin’s reflection. He couldn’t interpret the man’s expression, and that made him even more anxious.
“Hi,” he greeted as Seokjin set everything down on the table, his voice surprisingly tiny. “How are you, hyung?”
“Okay. Today has been a little busy. How are you today, Namjoon-ah?” He did his best to put his normal confidence in his voice, but he wasn’t sure if the breathy quality to it was actually there or just in his head.
“I’m, uh, good as well, hyung.” He rubbed the back of his neck, but his eyes still never left Seokjin, either from the mirror or whenever the stylist stepped in front of him. “Happy to see you.”
“Of course you are.” Seokjin ran his fingers through Namjoon’s hair to begin detangling the locks. His hair was still so soft, and it was enough to calm him down just a little. “Just the touch up today, right? You’re fine with the length?” The front was getting a little long, and Seokjin knew the professor hated when his hair was in his face too much.
“Um, if you have time, I wouldn’t mind a trim.” Seokjin nodded, but he could hear Taehyung and Hoseok snickering beside him. Glancing over, he saw them staring at the two of them in obvious amusement. Taehyung winked, and heat rose from Seokjin’s neck to his ears. “Hyung?”
“I can do that, Namjoon-ah. That’s fine.” He draped the bib over Namjoon and grabbed a fresh set of gloves from the box, snapping them on. “It’s definitely been long enough that you need a trim. You’re my last appointment today, anyway, so I’m fine with giving you all the time you need.” You’re what, Seokjin? What type of cheesy nonsense was that?
As he combed through the professor’s hair, he asked, “So how’s Jungkookie? Still wanting his hair coloured red?”
“Now he wants it to be blonde.” Namjoon’s smile was sweet, and Seokjin was glad to see it back on his face, even if the blush hadn’t disappeared. “His mom is worried about bleaching his head, though, so I’m not sure how far that will go.”
Seokjin nodded. “He’s pretty young, so he shouldn’t be using bleach. I don’t know about lightening his hair, but you could always go with hair chalk and things to colour his hair red or something else. Since he likes to style it, they even have gel that is safe for children that colours it. We can always find some gentle, temporary dyes that come out in a few washes.”
“It’s fine. We have to wait until the summer anyway so his school doesn’t get angry. They’re pretty strict about hair colours and styles.”
Seokjin started applying some of the solution to the professor’s roots, massaging it into the hair, and Namjoon made a small noise that sounded a bit too much like a moan. They both froze, but Seokjin continued what he was doing, still wanting to be professional despite the blush that had returned to a vengeance to both of their faces. He could hear Jimin cackling from the desk and was tempted to shoot him a glare, but that would give the receptionist too much attention.
Thankfully, the rest of the process went without a hitch, and he grabbed a chair while they waited for the solution to take hold. It would take at least thirty minutes, which was way too long for Seokjin to stand while not doing anything. “How has work been?” he ventured as Namjoon settled into the chair.
“Not bad. I’m teaching an intro class this semester, so my evenings are full of grading short quizzes and bullshit essays. Still, most of these kids are doing okay, so it’s not too frustrating.” Namjoon’s hand twitched on his lap, and Seokjin guessed it was probably because he wanted to rub the back of his neck. The professor tended to do that when he was stressed, it seemed.
“You say that like you’re so much older than them,” Seokjin teased, and he was rewarded with a little chuckle from Namjoon. “Are you sure you’re twenty-seven? Should I be calling you hyung instead?”
“No! I’m still twenty-seven! But I swear it feels like the people starting university these days are so much younger than twenty.”
“It’s generational,” Taehyung piped up from where he was blow-drying Hoseok’s hair. So they were listening in on Seokjin and Namjoon's conversation. Nosy brats. “Even four years’ difference can feel like ten these days. I have a younger cousin, and I have no idea what she’s talking about half the time.”
Namjoon nodded, but he still hadn’t taken his eyes off of Seokjin. His hand twitched on his lap again, and he mumbled something under his breath. At the stylist’s questioning look, he blushed somehow even darker. “I’m just feeling a little, uh, thirsty, hyung, sorry.”
“Oh! Would you like some water? I’m sorry, Namjoon-ah.” He stood up, trying to think of what they had in the back. “I have water or some coffee if you’re feeling tired?”
“Ah, just the water is fine, hyung. Thank you.” He smiled wide enough that his dimples popped up, and Seokjin had to clench his hands into fists to keep from reaching out and pinching them. He hurried into the small kitchen they had before he did anything ridiculous.
And apparently Jimin decided it was the perfect time to trap him. “So, I don’t know if you noticed, but he was checking you out, hyung!” the receptionist squealed, closing the door behind him. Seokjin shot him an exasperated look over his shoulder, and he pouted. “What? Our plan worked, hyung! Now, once you’re done, you just have to reel him in. Why do you look so grumpy?”
“Jimin, he’s obviously stressed and uncomfortable. I’m not sure if the shirt is helping or hurting at this point.” He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, feeling the anxiety starting to creep up again now that he didn’t have to put up a front. “Maybe I should just wait a little longer?”
“Hyung, no! He’s into you! It’s all over his face!” At Seokjin’s expression, the younger immediately dove in to give his hyung cuddles. “Listen, I know you’re worried, but Tae and I wouldn’t be pushing you this hard unless we were certain. I promise.” He rubbed his face against Seokjin’s shoulder, like a cute kitten, and Seokjin sighed.
“I know, but I still don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”
“You are making him uncomfortable, hyung, just not in the way you think you are.” Jimin winked, and Seokjin pushed him away, laughing.
“Yah, you brat, get out of here before I smack you.” Knowing the stylist was only half-joking, Jimin darted out the door, and Seokjin stared after him in fond amusement. Leave it to him to help Seokjin feel less anxious. He grabbed another water for himself and headed back into the other room.
Only to see Taehyung and Hoseok laughing as they stood around Seokjin’s chair, where Namjoon sat with his face as pink as his hair. He shot the elder a pitiful Help me look, and that was enough to have Seokjin rushing over to whack Taehyung on the shoulder.
“Hyung!” The younger stylist pouted. “What was that for?”
“Go back to your station and stop harassing my favourite client,” Seokjin snapped. Taehyung continued to pout, but he allowed his boyfriend to pull him back to their side. “Did they give you too much trouble, Namjoon-ah?”
“I’m fine, hyung.” The blush still hadn’t gone away. “Thank you for getting me water.”
They spent the remaining time that the colour needed looking at pictures of Jungkook on Namjoon’s phone. They were cooing at a picture of him posing for his first day of school when the timer went off, and Seokjin could see, if things went well, himself filling his own phone up with photos of the cute child. He just had to be brave enough to ask.
As Seokjin rinsed the solution out of Namjoon’s hair, however, the professor started to get anxious again, rubbing his hands on his pants and stammering whenever Seokjin asked him if the water was too cold. He put a little more effort in massaging Namjoon’s scalp, trying to calm him down again. It worked for a bit, but as soon as they stood back up to head back to the chair, Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck and started staring at his lap- as much as he could with his head tilted so Seokjin could cut it. He was practically silent while Seokjin trimmed his hair, not saying anything in response to Seokjin’s questions beyond an occasional hum. Which was fine. Sometimes he seemed to just got lost in his own head, and the stylist was fine with him taking his time on the way out.
However, he really wasn’t expecting Namjoon to suddenly ask, “Would you like to get dinner together with Kookie and I this weekend?”
Seokjin flinched so much that the razor he was using to gently clean up the back of Namjoon’s neck moved up and shaved off some of his hair on the side. The stylist gasped and quickly turned off the razor. “Ah, sorry, Namjoon-ah. Oh no! I’m so sorry.” Panic welled up in him, and he gently turned Namjoon’s head to see the extent of the damage. He hadn’t shaved too much, but it was enough to be noticeable. “I’m going to have to shave more of the sides to fix this. You can get the cut for free. Don’t worry.”
“Hyung.” Seokjin looked at the professor’s face in the mirror, expecting to see him angry or at least horrified at the mistake. However, Namjoon’s expression was surprisingly fond. “I don’t mind, hyung. Do what you need to do. I should have waited before asking you.” Namjoon blushed and looked down at his lap before turning in the chair to look Seokjin directly in the eye. “But I still want to know the answer. Do you want to get dinner this weekend, hyung?”
“I-” Seokjin could feel the eyes of everyone in the salon on him. However, he was surprised to find that the hopeful emotion he could see in Namjoon’s eyes eased a lot of the anxiety he was feeling. So when he just sighed a relieved, “Yes,” he felt more giddy than anything else. And it was that giddiness that bolstered his confidence enough to stoop down and press a quick peck to Namjoon’s lips. The professor’s mouth dropped open in shock, but he looked about as happy as Seokjin felt.
However, the moment was interrupted by Taehyung letting out a squeal and launching himself at Seokjin. It wasn’t too long after that that Jimin jumped onto the stylist as well, shaking him, and Seokjin was distantly aware of the rest of the salon cheering or cooing. Each time Jimin paused in jostling him around and he could see Namjoon again, the professor looked amused and a little embarrassed. Still, his dimples were on full display with the wide smile on his face.
“Okay! Okay! I still have to fix his hair!” He gently pried himself from the younger two’s grips. But he couldn’t be too stern with the big grin on his own face.
Namjoon was playing with the shaved sides of his hair up front when Seokjin was finished cleaning. He looked good, and he’d assured the stylist a couple times that he was very pleased with the adjustment. He’d only joked that his students would lose their minds the next time they saw him.
His smile was all Seokjin could see as he stood beside Jimin at the counter and told the receptionist the sale amount. And Namjoon obviously couldn’t look anywhere but Seokjin as he fumbled to get his wallet out of his pocket without taking his eyes off the stylist. Jimin was tutting the two of them, mumbling under his breath about how he was tired of couples and heart-eyes.
“Can I get your number, hyung?” Namjoon finally asked after he was handed back his card. Seokjin nodded but waved away the other man’s phone when he offered it, instead grabbing the receipt as it finished printing from the machine. He wrote his phone number and a little heart on the back before handing it over.
“I better have a text from you by the time I leave the salon today, or you can forget about dinner,” he threatened, though the blush and small smile that was still on his face didn’t help his attempt at intimidation at all if the way Namjoon just smiled wider was any indication.
“We’ll see, hyung,” the professor teased back, giving Seokjin and Jimin a bashful nod before heading out of the shop.
Seokjin had about five seconds to panic that he had gone too far already before his phone vibrated in his pocket. Jimin squealed, and Seokjin didn’t even try to fight his smile when he saw a text from a new number that was just pink hearts.
He unlocked his phone and sent hearts back before saving the number in his phone as Dr. Dimples. And he ignored Jimin’s smug smile as he went back to his chair to clean up.