Work Text:
He had been sitting in that hairdresser’s chair for about an hour, maybe more, maybe less, his feet bouncing up and down and up and down and up and down as his mother happily chatted with the man dyeing her hair in a honey-ish tone.
He had stopped listening ages ago.
Now his gaze was wandering around the room, searching for nothing in particular and for a minute or two he watched the colourful fish swim in the ginormous tank placed in the middle of the room (it had some sort of Baz Luhrmann vibe to it, really).
He saw two Nemos chasing some Gobie – poor buddy - and he only stopped looking when his mother’s voice made him come back to reality.
“Even, honey, could you bring me my phone? I need to show Matias the video of that little girl trying to count to five.”
His mom was obsessed with that clip, kept cracking up every time she saw it.
A small girl proudly counting to five but leaving out the four.
One, two, three, five.
Her father trying to convince her that she kept forgetting the number, but the girl was determined that she’s doing right.
One, two, three, five.
He eventually got up with a sigh, a small nod and “sure, mamma”, before he walked over to the coatrack.
Flopping down after he handed her the phone, he came back to spinning circles in the chair, leaning back to test how far the backrest would move with him as he heard the girl in the video counting. One, two, three, five.
He lipsynced the video – One, two, three, five -, his head thrown back as he stared at the ceiling of the shop.
Time didn’t want to pass.
(What’s it with time, he asked himself, it ran when you didn’t want it to and became viscous when you were waiting for it to fly by.
Maybe time itself had a different understanding of the numbers and measurements.)
So in the end he started playing games on his phone. 2048, Candy Crush, Cooking Fever, but even that became boring at some point.
Some pop song was faintly playing in the background and he tapped his fingers on the material of the seat, following the rhythm (if he was muttering a few words of the lyrics under his breath, then no one had to know).
He wasn’t sure how many (or how little) minutes had passed when the jingle of the bell above the door filled the room.
Bright sounds that reminded him of his childhood, when they had a wind chime in their garden, painted in the colours of the rainbow. Maybe he should ask his mother to buy one of those things again.
A short glance towards the entrance of the salon and Even immediately sat up from his slouched position in the chair.
Because he had walked in.
The boy he had been watching in school for quite some time now.
The boy who always sat with the same group of guys during lunch, his eyes mostly casted downwards when he wasn’t laughing with his friends (and damn, his laugh almost seemed like a freaking compliment to his ears, so free and clear and open).
The boy who made a run for the tram every Thursday after his last lesson, probably trying to get to the stop in time.
The boy who spent most five-minute-breaks fighting with his locker that didn’t want to open up one bit.
The boy. The boy. The boy.
He blinked at him as Matias turned to look over his shoulder: “Oh, Isak, hei!”
Isak. His name was Isak.
Even knew he was staring at him, but he couldn’t help it, not really. Because he was here. Isak was here.
And how big were the chances that he walked into the same hair salon as him, when there were so many in Oslo?
How big were the chances that he decided to come here right now, that exact day at that exact time?
How big were the chances? He had never been good at probability calculation but it wasn’t necessary for him to understand binomial distributions to get that they approached zero.
“Halla”, he heard Isak (not the boy, but Isak, Isak, Isak) say, who shot Matias and his mom a quick smile before looking over in his direction and… and he was looking over in his direction.
Catching him stare.
He had always been so good at hiding. At shooting him quick peeks, smiling at the way Isaks mouth twitched when his friends said something funny, a certain warmth spreading in his chest, before looking away again, making sure that nobody knew.
This time though? This time he failed. He failed big time.
“Lilli’s break is almost over, you can take the seat next to Even and wait”, Matias said and Isak nodded, shooting him another look (Even was sure that he was blushing by the heat of his cheeks, so very sure that he didn’t dare to look in the mirror right in front of him, because what if he was? How embarrassing would that be to know that he was making an even bigger fool of himself just that second?).
He pulled out his phone, checking his messages to keep him from glancing towards Isak – who sat right there to his left, which really made him want to let out a high pitched scream.
There was no way this was all happening. Except that it was.
It shouldn’t be that hard to try not to explode from excitement and tenseness and so many other emotions at the same time.
When he eventually dared to look up he saw Isak scrolling through his Instagram feed out of the corner of his eyes. Meme after meme after meme. Just a few pictures of people in between, probably his friends. How was that guy even real?
He seemed rather caught up in his doing, so Even figured it was safe to watch him through the mirrors.
Isak’s face was slightly illuminated by his phone screen and in that light his cheekbones appeared to be even higher, his long eyelashes even darker (and really, it was unfair; he quietly cursed coincidence, fate, destiny, all at the very same time).
A few of his golden curls fell into Isak’s vision. He kept brushing them out of his face with the back of his hand, just to let them fall into the same place a few seconds later all over again.
And that’s when Even realized: Isak wasn’t here to just chill. He was here to cut his hair.
Isak would cut. his. hair. Well… actually, the hairdresser – Lilli – would do that. But nevertheless: He would let her cut his locks off.
If this were to be a movie there would be a loud alert signal playing in his head right now, sort of like the kill-bill-sirens. MISSION ABORT, MISSION ABORT. MISSION ABORT. But it wasn’t.
So he just stared at Isak for one, two, three seconds.
“You can’t do it”, he blurted out. He quite much felt like hiding behind his hands as soon as the words left his mouth and Isak looked up to meet his eyes.
“What?” he asked and his voice sounded a little unsure.
Fuck, that boy was going to be the death of him.
“Cutting your hair. You can’t do that. At least not here”, Even clarified. He knew that both his mother and Matias were probably looking at him, but for now he just focused on Isak (it wasn’t like he wanted this to get even more embarrassing with them involved in this entire situation).
“Uh…”, Isak started, locking his phone. “Isn’t that what hair salons are for? So you can get you hair cut?”
Even was aware of how stupid he must sound. But it wasn’t like he could let Isak just… do that. Not when he was sitting next to him. The risk of him starting to cry out when the scissors met his hair were simply too high.
He wasn’t ready to let go of those soft, golden curls. And Isak shouldn’t be either.
“Yeah, I mean… Technically you could. But you really shouldn’t”, he then said, which made Isak frown. His eyebrows slightly drawn together. Even just wanted to hold onto that sight forever.
“Okay… and… why?”, Isak asked, sounding a bit hesitant.
“Because”, Even started, leaving the word hanging in the air between them, desperately searching for a reason that didn’t sound as weird, creepy and/or stalker-ish as it sort of really was. He didn’t find one.
Isak looked at him. Waiting for him to answer. When he didn’t, he made a little movement with his hand, gesturing Even to continue. “Yes?” he asked, when it didn’t work right away.
Fy faen, he was cute. Why was he that cute? Was it even allowed to be that cute? Was there some rule against it? A ‘you can only be this cute before it becomes illegal’?
“Because I like your hair as it is, why would you want to cut it when it brings out your eyes just right?” he said and Isak blinked at him in surprise, before he looked down at his phone, unlocking and locking it again shortly after.
He knew he had fucked up when Isak gave a small “Oh.. uh…” from him, but didn’t continue. However, in his defences, it did bring out his eyes really well. The green seemed to shine so very bright.
Even cleared his throat. “I mean, the length suits you and… yeah.” He didn’t make it any better. Not at all. It was awkward and a bit clumsy (plus he felt a blush creeping onto his cheeks).
He hated this. He did. It was the first time he talked to his “I like to admire you from afar”-crush and he had totally ruined it.
And then Lilli came into the room, putting her long fox-red hair into a ponytail as she smiled her kind smile. She’s only been here for about a year, but Even liked her. He always fell into easy conversations with her when his mother took way too long (just as today, what a surprise – which meant that it actually was his mother’s fault that all of this happened).
“Hei”, she greeted the two boys, while stepping behind Isak.
She put her slender hands on his shoulders and beamed at him through the mirror.
“So, what can I do for you?” she eventually asked as she started to play with Isak’s curls, running her fingers through his hair.
Even really wanted to change places with her. Being able to touch him like that without it being inappropriate.
“Uh… I want to… cut my hair, I guess”, Isak slowly explained, shooting Even a short look, before he continued: „But I am not sure how short I want it yet.“
Even stared at him. He knew he did. And he knew that everyone around him noticed. Because Lilli looked at him with raised eyebrows and he could feel his mother’s gaze boring into his back.
“Hm, okay, do you have any ideas in mind of what you’d like?” Lilli tried, cocking her head a tiny bit as she continued to examine his hair.
“I kind of thought of something like this”, Isak started, pulling out his phone once again and opening a picture shortly after.
“My hair has just started to get… kind of in the way when I read or do whatever, really. And I think I look too young like this”, he explained, looking at Even for a second. Almost as he wanted to give a reason for his decision.
Even tried to catch a glimpse of the photo without being too obvious. Which he definitely failed at.
Lilli showed it to him with a low chuckle before she handed the phone back to Isak.
“I think this could really suit you. But let’s hear what your boyfriend thinks. It’s his opinion that matters most, right?”
With that she eyed Even once again, a small grin on her thin lips.
Even who – in return – stared at her with a uncomfortable (and maybe also a little bit flustered) expression painted onto his face.
“Uh, I am not… we’re not…”, he started and when she finally understood (which felt like it took years) she blinked at the two of them.
“Oh, really? I am so sorry, I just figured, since you seemed so invested in all of this.”
“Nah, I am here with my.. uh with my mother.” He pointed into her direction without looking at her, because he was sure - by the way Matias and her had gone all silent - they were listening to the conversation attentively.
“Oh, right. I should have noticed. I am really sorry”, Lilli repeated, her face slightly flushed. In the end though, it was nothing compared to the colour visible on Isak’s cheeks.
The boy stared at his hands and when Even turned to look at him, he scratched his neck, not quite sure what to do or what to say.
“So… should we just cut it?” she then asked and that was when Isak met his eyes in the mirror. Just a short glance.
“I still think I could use that opinion, though”, Isak eventually brought out. Maybe Even was imagining it, but he could have sworn he saw a tiny smile play around his lips.
So he started to somewhat smirk, before he nodded eventually. “I think it could look good. Even though you know that I do like your hair as it is, so I wouldn’t exactly mind if you chose not to cut it.”
Isak smiled at that, the corners of his lips slightly twitching and although it wasn’t huge, it was still there.
Lilli’s eyes wandered in between the two of them. “So, cut it or leave it?” she then asked and he saw Isak taking a big breath.
“I am… I think I’m going to cut it anyway.”
“Are you sure?” She went back to running her fingers through his hair.
It took a few seconds but he nodded eventually.
“Alright, there goes nothing”, Lilli then exclaimed with a smile and just a bit later she put the hairdressing cape on him.
It wasn’t like he particularly enjoyed seeing the curls fall onto the ground, spreading on the fabric of the cape, but in the end he didn’t mind as much as he thought he would.
Because yes, he still loved that hair (and a part of him mourned a bit because he never came to burying his fingers in those soft, golden locks), but from minute to minute he became more used to Isak’s new look.
It also was quite a bonus that he was one of the first people to see him like that. Almost as he was privileged, chosen.
Isak’s hair began to dry, as Lilli moved the razor at the back of his neck, the look on her face concentrated, focused, while Isak played with the hem of the cape (and really, Even was so fucking gone for the boy, especially when the first strands started to curl on his forehead).
It was quite a view.
When Lilli turned to grab a round hand-mirror, showing Isak his finished hair from every angle, Even eventually got up from his chair, looking at his mother who had started chatting animatedly with Matias again.
“I’ll go and get some air, mamma”, he said and his mother nodded with a small, knowing smile on her lips. “Sure, love.”
“I think we’ll be done here in a bit as well”, Matias threw in and Even buried his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.
“Yeah, okay.” Another nod and he went to leave the salon, staring at the bright blue sky above him.
He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to say something to Isak when he came out here after paying for his haircut.
He wasn’t sure if it would feel weird, creepy and/or stalker-ish.
He wasn’t sure if that’s what someone did after being assumed to be a boyfriend of someone he really wasn’t the boyfriend of (not that he minded…).
He wasn’t sure.
But before he could really dive into his thoughts, get lost in the depths of his head, the door opened. He could hear the jingle of the bell. The sound was now not only connected to his childhood, but also to golden hair.
Then Isak stepped into the spot beside him.
He almost expected him to just walk away, but instead he stayed, looking around the area. Even followed him by doing so, too.
A non-trafficked street. A crosswalk. A few trees and bushes. A gym just a few hundred meters away from them.
“So”, he heard Isak start and Even turned to look at the other boy.
“So”, he echoed. A smile spread on his lips.
“I don’t think I’ve ever met a guy so passionate about hair”, Isak said after a few seconds and Even? Even laughed, shrugging.
“Yeah, I mean, I’m not either.”
“No?” Isak asked, his eyebrows playfully raised (and it definitely was a look Even wanted to see more often on his face, it fit him so well, even if he couldn’t quite name why).
He shook his head with a smile. “No.”
“Then why do you look like you care a lot about yours?”
He wanted to answer, wanted to say that he was simply gifted with an amazing hair structure, but Isak continued before the words could leave his mouth.
“And why do you tell random people at a salon not to get theirs cut?”
He opened his lips, searched for a good come back but when he couldn’t think of one, he just grinned and said: “I don’t usually do that. I guess I am just… passionate about your hair.” The truth. A bit lame, but the truth.
“Oh, so my hair is special then?” Isak continued to ask and Evens grin stretched even more before he broke into a quiet laugh.
“It sure is”, he approved. For a moment there was just silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable or weird. For some reason it felt like it was just… them. The way they interacted. It felt natural.
“And now? Is it still special when it’s short?” The question was a tad quieter than the others and when Even turned to look at Isak, he saw him staring down at his feet, a faint blush on his cheeks.
“Yeah. I think it’s everything about you that’s special somehow.”
Isak glanced up at him and eventually began smirking: “So that’s your way then? Flirting with guys you meet at the hair dresser, so the employees think you’re their boyfriend and you can end up telling them that they are special?”
“Fuck, you’ve totally figured me out.”
The door opened again. The jingle. Then his mother looked at the two of them, her eyes scanning the situation in a matter of seconds. “I’ll wait for you in the car, honey”, she said with a small smile, barely visible as she turned to walk away.
“So… uh… I should get going. I don’t want to stop you or anything”, Isak then said and Even shook his head immediately.
“You’re not. I mean… yes, you are, but I don’t think she minds and…” He licked his lips, took a deep breath and: “CanImaybepossiblyhaveyournumber?”
Isak blinked at him.
“So I can continue to be passionate about your hair. And tell you that I like the new look as well”, he explained short after and Isak started to smile before he nodded.
“Yeah. Sure.”
He opened the door of the car and sat down in the passenger seat, staring out of the windscreen. He knew that his mother was looking at him. Of course she was. But she didn’t ask.
Instead she started the car and turned on the radio. The weather guy talked about how it was a beautiful day. Indeed.
They had only driven for about three, maybe four minutes, when Even took out his phone, typing a quick message.
Even, 17:36:
Oh btw I like the new look as well