Chapter Text
Haircuts were a chore for James Herondale. Ever since he was a child, his hair has grown massively and uncontrollably curly. Unfortunately for his parents, he abhorred having his locks chopped off like the the other boys his age. His mum compromised with hair ties, barrettes, headbands the like when he was a toddler but when it was time for him to enter primary school, he quickly realized that there was an expectation for boys to have shorter hair than girls. His tantrums soon became pouts and small sniffles into his mum’s embrace after his dad had put away the scissors. James couldn’t fault his parents for trying to help him, and held no bitterness against them for not respecting his wishes as a five year old. He was able to look back and chuckle a bit, especially at the memory of his dad sitting down for his mum and attempting to model what a haircut should have been like and getting immediately itchy and chasing James whilst flicking his itchy hairs at his son.
That was a period of time before his father had become the renowned author, Will Herondale. In later years he was constantly locked in his office drafting new works, while his mother tended to his little sister Lucie, and James. He still respected his father, and his mother, Tessa, never complained, and it was not like there weren’t other male figures in his life. His Uncle Jem, for example, would visit their household and was equally, if not differently, an influence in his life like his parents.
Maybe, James thought, he was projecting his disdain for haircuts on remembering his father because his hair was basically a more shaggy version of Will’s seemingly flawless, unruly and handsome hair. Also, because he was currently heading towards a salon, with the money his sister forced upon his wallet, and business card of an apparently excellent hairdresser. He also couldn’t get out of it, because Lucie threaten to call the establishment to make sure he went and even went as far to book an appointment for him. Not, James smirked slightly, that Lucie would have time to call till closing because of her busy schedule as a publishing intern for TIME Inc.
Blinking as he arrived to his destination, a salon in Soho on Great Marlborough Street, he immediately was caught off guard by the pastel green floral decor lining the window and the door, which was also green. He briefly wondered if this was an Irish theme of some sort and meandered around the people still walking while he had paused, and opened the door. An overbearing wave of heat overcame him, he assumed from the sound of a handheld dryer, and the rows of hair dryers while a few women waited reading magazines and the like as ambient classical music played.
James instantly regretted stepping inside what he should have known was a space for the opposite gender, since he received some confused and some appraising looks from the various patrons. Before he could turn tail and leave, coming up with an excuse like “I agreed I would go not actually get a cut” for his sister, a voice rang over the noise and music and James turned to see a man with rosy blonde hair brandishing a comb in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other.
“Hullo sir, I’ll be right with you!” He smiled radiantly, and James squinted at him suspiciously, recalling the name on the card, Matthew.
“Very well,” James settled with saying as Matthew turned his attention to his current client seated in front of him. This entire establishment was beyond James comfort zone, but he was here, Matthew had seen him, and now he sat on a couch which seemed ancient and Edwardian, but well preserved despite that. To avoid the continuing stares of some women that had nothing better to do with their time while their hair dried, James produced his book from his messenger bag. He could hear Matthew the hairdresser talking animatedly with some woman on the chair. James mind drifted away from the environment and into the book, becoming lost in the fantasy and ignoring the reality of his discomfort and impending appointment.
“James Herondale, correct?” James jumped in his seat and adjusted his glasses to look up at Matthew who appeared before him with a winning smile. James had the urge to scowl at him, but held his tongue and nodded, clearing his throat as he put away his book.
“Yes.”
“Didn’t mean to startle you!” Matthew apologized and bit his lip before it formed back into that irritatingly fitty smile. “Lucie did mention you like books too.”
Great, James drawled within his thoughts as he stood. This man would have expectations of him due to Lucie’s inability to respect his privacy. “Yes, hard to avoid books in my family.”
Matthew nodded in agreement. “Of course, how’s your father?”
“Um,” James faltered, it was natural for people to assume his dad was the reason his children loved to read, despite the fact that his mum was also an avid reader, and pushed his dad to pursuing his dream of being an author. There would be no Will Herondale without Tessa, and it didn’t help that over the years his uncle Jem Carstairs rose to fame as a violinist and known friend of the famous author, adding fuel to the fame flames. “He is well, writing, signing books, the like.”
“Sounds glamourous.” Matthew gestured to the now empty seat in front of a massive mirror. “Care to have a seat?”
James could not tell if Matthew was being sarcastic or earnest, but if Lucie felt this man was the right one to tackle the task of his outrageous hair, who was he to argue? Maybe later, if this ordeal turned out with his hair being buzzed off entirely. He made his way to the seat, relaxing a bit as aria from one of his favorite pieces began. He concentrated on that, even when he could see Matthew stanitizing the scissors and switching out the recently used combs and brushes for new ones.
“What were you thinking of doing today?” Matthew spoke easily during his task.
“I’m told that I need a haircut,” James told him bluntly, and flushed at how brash he must’ve sounded. Of course he needed a haircut, his curls were covering his eyes, only his glasses were keeping it slightly out of his line of vision.
Matthew laughed, his eyes twinkling. “Do you now? You have magnificent hair, and with a little styling and some accessories you could definitely pull it off.”
“Really?” James asked, skeptical and blushing. Was this man encouraging him to not get a haircut with flattery?
“Really,” Matthew repeated with a chuckle, placing his instruments down. “But I swore a solemn oath to your sister that I would cut your hair today.”
Of course, James thought bitterly, recovering from Matthew’s earlier comment, damn Lucie.
“We’ll start with removing your glasses...” Matthew reached out for them, but on instinct James grabbed the man’s wrist. It went slack at the grab, and with a gasp James released the startled hairdresser’s hand.
“Sorry…” James eyes darted to his lap and he put his shaky fingers to his rims.
“No it’s alright!” Matthew waved his hands in front of him. “They would be in the way but I shouldn’t have grabbed them without asking or explaining myself.”
James nodded and took his glasses, handing them to Matthew’s outstretched hand, now lowered and not so near his eyes. Matthew placed them gingerly on the vanity and produced a black smock to wrap around James neck.
“Would you like a shampoo and condition?” Matthew inquired, James could see Matthew staring at his curls thoughtfully.
“Sure.” James said reluctantly, knowing it was part of the process. Matthew raised his eyebrows but helped him up and guided him to the tubs with chairs in front of them. James lowered himself against the chilly edge of the tub, and Matthew ran the water just above his forehead.
“Let me know if it’s too hot or too cold,” Matthew informed James, as the water trickled within his thick hair. James took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Matthew’s fingers were careful, and they kneaded against his scalp as the chill of the shampoo was mixed in. James could feel himself drift away as the sensation of a stranger washing his hair lulled him to a foreign sense of security, something that was sort of lacking in his life lately. Before James’ mind could wander off to a memory he repressed, he heard Matthew’s voice in his ears. “Time to get back to my chair.”
James opened his eyes and stared up at Matthew, who was looking at him expectantly. He was holding a towel and seemed to be about to do something with it, but hesitated. James raised his eyebrows as sat up from the low chair. “That’s for me correct?”
“Oh, yes.” Matthew nodded distractedly and covered James’ soaked hair, ruffling the towel a little to dry it up.
James put his hand on the towel, brushing against Matthew’s for a moment, and held the ends so it wouldn’t slip off as he crossed the salon back to the chair he had first seen Matthew at. Matthew followed him hurriedly, apologizing about the towel, or the hands, or something. James honestly wasn’t paying attention, still lost in the blissful haze he experienced during the wash.
“Do your best and I’m sure it won’t be so bad.” James decided to say, as he sat down and pulled the towel off. Matthew stopped in front of James, his face flushed like he’d been running a mile at full sprint only to stop halfway through.
“You… mean the haircut? That you're definitely sure you still want? I was sort of joking when I mentioned a promise to your sister.” Matthew waved his hands dismissively at the mention of Lucie, and James rolled his eyes.
“Well I’m hardly going to walk out of here with my hair dripping over the sidewalk.” He chuckled and noticed how Matthew’s lips crinkled upwards from his dry tone, and whatever sudden nervous energy that he had seemingly disappeared.
“Your a piece of work Mr. Herondale,” Matthew put a hand on his hip, the other gliding over several pairs of scissors.
“Already? Wait till you have to keep sweeping my hair bunches long after I’m gone.” James retorted. “Besides, Lucie probably had some choice words about me, isn’t gossiping apart of your job?”
Matthew gasped in mock offense and put a hand to chest. “Et tu, Brute?”
“What?” James laughed, knowing the phrase but clueless to why Matthew had said it.
“Lucie accused me of the same thing at her first appointment, reducing my profession to nothing but being a collector of gossip.” Matthew explained, placing a dramatic hand to his forehead. “I finally see the family resemblance.”
“Seeing as you’ve done nothing but chatter instead of cutting I’ll say that’s a pretty accurate description.” James teased.
“So eager now?” Matthew flashed a grin and James let out a resigned sigh.
“Just get it out of my eyes.” James told him.
“Will do,” Matthew finally picked up a pair of scissors and a comb and went to work.
James wasn’t used to so many questions during the process; he was asked if he still wanted bangs, whether it was alright to cut over the ears, how far down his neck he still wanted it, where did his part normally fall? It wasn’t as though he didn’t know what he wanted in the past, it was simply he never felt more relaxed, instead of sitting terse and silent he was engaged with Matthew.
“So why a salon and not a barbershop?” James wondered.
“I love working with different styles, and long hair is easier for me to work with.” Matthew explained as he clipped another piece of hair to trim the one underneath. “I would ask you the same, but Lucie probably had much more to do with your decision than yourself, right?” He chuckled lightly as he worked.
“Hm, yeah. Lucie likes to meddle where she’s not needed. Though… if it wasn't for her I probably wouldn’t leave the house...” James realized he was exposing his life story to this stranger and went silent.
“Family can be tough, but we look out for each other.” Matthew nodded and continued snipping. “Growing up I looked after my father, he’s a genius but extremely clumsy and prone to have accidents.”
“Accidents?” James inquired.
“Well,” Matthew paused, concentrating on cutting the hair while holding it together with a comb. “He uses a wheelchair, from an accident he had before I was born, but he still does what he loves most, inventing. He’s always moving around his laboratory to do something, with science and engineering though sometimes things don’t go as planned. I once had put out a fire that was blazing on top of his head.”
“Wow,” James hadn’t expected Matthew to say so much, and the details made him feel a bit guilty, he never remembered ever helping his own father with his craft. He wondered if it was normal to go through such lengths for one’s parent.
“It’s finished.” Matthew announced after some silence, and James opened his eyes to face the mirror before him. He blinked a little and Matthew handed back his glasses. James hadn’t mentioned to Matthew that he was farsighted, and could see himself relatively clearly. He couldn’t help the slight smile curving his lips, his hair was still messy, but somehow Matthew managed to make it look stylish. James brought his glasses to his face and glanced up at Matthew, who was wiping his hands with a towel.
“It’s good.” James nodded. “Though, I’ve never used anything in my hair before.”
“Never?” Matthew echoed with awe and removed the smock. “I should have asked!”
“It’s alright,” James nodded standing up. “I never cared either way. It looks good.”
“Do you want to care?” Matthew folded the smock and placed it on the vanity.
“I wouldn’t know how,” he admitted with a shrug and reached up tugging on one of his locks. “The most important task is done though, I can finally tell Lucie I survived a haircut.”
“Survive you did.” Matthew chuckled and clapped his hands. “Congratulations Mr. Herondale.”
“James,” He amended to Matthew’s surprise. “Call me James.”
Lucie was delighted to hear from Matthew after her brother paid and left his establishment. Matthew was busying himself by scrawling over his appointment pad while Lucie gushed over the line about this milestone. Matthew initially agreed to this appointment as a joke, thinking Lucie was exaggerating her brother’s plight against getting a haircut. It was almost jarring to be reminded that some men strolled through London without even touching their hair, but when James had entered the door Matthew mistook him for a walk-in. His hair, what James had referred to as a mess, was windswept and lustrous, covering half his face with glasses peeking on his free side. If James hadn’t immediately sat on his couch and pulled out a book Matthew wouldn’t have suspected he was Lucie’s brother.
“He wasn’t terribly rude was he?” Lucie asked after she was finished squealing and cheering.
“Not at all,” Matthew laughed. “We bantered but nothing I haven’t already experienced with you.”
“Now you know where I get it from,” Lucie giggled. “Although Jamie tends to be more passive aggressive when he dislikes someone, so clearly you passed!”
“Was this a test?” Matthew drawled, “I wouldn’t have guessed.”
“Is it drastic? Or- I swear if you only cut a piece and let him leave I’ll…!”
“No no, I trimmed it quite a bit, and got it out of his eyes as requested and even touched it up with mousse.” Matthew explained, leaning against the counter stationed towards the door.
“MOUSSE?!” Lucie cackled and was muffled, Matthew suspected she was still at the office and covering her mouth with her hand.
“Yes, is that a problem?” Matthew inquired with a chuckle.
“I cannot believe he let you put product!” Lucie took a breath to calm her laughter. Matthew put his pen down and glanced back to check on his colleagues. Only one familiar person was left for her appointment, she gave Matthew a knowing look as her hair was being styled. Matthew rolled his eyes at her, she winked back at him, and then he turned his attention back to his pad to look occupied.
“Well you’re the one that recommended a salon, we have dozens of products at our disposal.” Matthew informed her.
“Oh I’m aware, and if I had referred a barbershop they would have chopped it all off and he wouldn’t speak to me for years!” Lucie countered.
“Are men truly that barbaric?” Matthew gasped.
“Indeed they are, lord knows why you are attracted to them.” Lucie teased.
“Men nor women cannot resist my charms, or my hair, not sure which is more effective.” Matthew shot back and they both laughed.
“Matthew if you don’t mind I need the counter space so Anna can pay me.” A clipped voice interrupted, and Matthew cast a coy smile at his oldest assistant, Barbara Lightwood.
“You really going to make your cousin pay?” Matthew quirked an eyebrow Barbara and then at the woman who smirked at him, Anna Lightwood. She was what those in the modern world considered androgynous, wearing a fine suit fitted for a man but still fashion forward. Her hair was slicked back on the sides, with a quaf of longer hair on top. Anna stood regally, basking in the attention as if it were her god given right, yet still humble enough to meet his eyes and smile.
“I am willing to help Barbara provide for her family.” Anna explained.
“Of course,” Matthew nodded, and winced when the voice of Lucie interrupted.
“Is that Anna? Matthew why didn’t you say something?”
Barbara casually brushed against Matthew to access the touchpad to process the payment. Matthew busied himself with telling Lucie that he would definitely let her know when Anna was free next time. He could feel Anna’s eyes on him, and his neck heated up a bit when Lucie went back to the topic at hand.
“Thank you Matthew, you don’t know how much it means to me that you helped Jamie.” she admitted.
“Helped? All I did was a trim,” Matthew rubbed his neck, his eyes going to his feet bashfully.
“I know.” Lucie sighed. “But every little thing helps you know?”
“Lucie…” Matthew could sense there was more to this than what she had told him but Lucie clicked her tongue.
“And my dinners up! Back to work!” She hung up before Matthew could reprimand her for calling him during her meal breaks.
“That woman, I have half a mind to order her food for tonight.” Matthew lamented for a moment, placing their old fashioned phone back with a clack!
“You should buy some for reclusive James as well.” Anna chimed in. Matthew’s eyes darted up to Anna, his face flushed even more, and Barbara laughed at the statement.
“So it’s not just me who noticed your obvious crush.” she teased as Matthew shook his head vehemently. “Don’t deny it!”
“He is… attractive.” Matthew admitted with a sigh. “But my finding a male attractive doesn’t mean I have a crush!”
“Was he hideous after the cut?” Anna inquired as she swiped her card.
“Excuse me?!” Matthew was scandalized that Anna would even suggest such a thing of his work. “He was beautiful!”
Anna and Barbara exchanged a look. Matthew realized belatedly what they were trying to do; the saying goes if you find someone unattractive after a haircut it was merely an aesthetic that appealed to you, but if you continued find them flawless after a do... it was more.
“Conspiracy!” Matthew accused. “I was the one to cut it, of course I’d make sure it would appeal to me!”
“What happened to the Matthew that is always critical of his work and strives to be better?” Barbara demanded to know.
“I never admit my flaws in front of customers,” Matthew pointed out.
“Ha! I am hardly a mere customer,” Anna, who was as close to him as family, reminded him. Matthew pouted and turned away from the patronizing women. He stared at the spot James had sat in waiting for his appointment and could feel the nervous flutters of his heart beating at the memory. He placed a hand over his eyes and let out a long, drawn out breath before turning back to face the two women still staring at him.
“Fine.” Matthew relented. “Still, it’s not like he’ll ever come back, and is probably straight. End of discussion!”
“But he’s-” Barbara began to say something that Matthew should have heard but was embarrassed enough as it is.
“Fin.” Matthew held his fingers together and zipped it across his face for emphasis before heading to the back room to take care of closing business.
Later that evening Matthew was locking up for the night, his eyes wandering up to stare at his decorative green carnations. He reached out and touched one, letting out a deep sigh before turning away and striding into street towards his home. He twirled his jangling keys in his hand as he weaved through the bustle of the end of the work day. His residence was a couple of rail stops away, so he stared wistfully out the window, with one thing on his mind, James Herondale.
It had been ages since he’d felt compelled to go out of his way to please a client, but seeing James and realizing he was the one Lucie had spoken to him about, he couldn’t help it. He wanted the man to have a positive experience with a haircut, but Matthew could also understand completely why James would be self conscious. A personality like that, one that seemed to shrink at being the center of attention and couldn't fathom being pampered, would probably be completely unaware of how gorgeous he really was. If his hair, with waves like black wool wasn’t enough, his eyes were a striking orchiroid, which were hidden by his wide dark glasses. When Matthew had trimmed his hair he made sure James’ face was framed just enough to continue being a shield, but with the option to be styled back in case James considered opening his face to the world. Though Matthew suspected the glasses also had a role in this, but he wasn't an optometrist.
Shaking his head, Matthew followed the crowd off of the rail and made his way up the stairs back to the streets. His stomach grumbled as he passed by the pub wafting the aroma of food from its windows on the way to his flat. He swiftly turned the corner and arrived at the entrance, and could hear the barks of an excited dog upstairs. He grinned and bounded up, hearing the scratches on his door as he worked to unlock that one too. The door swung open and a small, pudgy French Bulldog greeted Matthew with slobbery kisses. Matthew laughed and scooped up his darling, kissing her on the head as he entered the flat.
“Evening Adele,” He greeted and was rewarded with more licks. “You wouldn't believe the day I’ve had.” Adele blinked slowly at him, not minding being cradled in his arms as he made his way to the kitchen. “I met Lucie’s brother, James…. And he is something…” After feeding and walking Adele, Matthew finally sat down to relax, sipping tea with his dog on his lap and rereading one of his favorite novels. He drowned out the noises of the streets as he became engrossed within the world on the pages...
The apartment was still and dark, the only illumination was peeking through the shades from the street lights. Low rumbling snores between Adele and Matthew echoed through the place, until an instistant buzzing coming from the coffee table woke Matthew out of his slumber. He rubbed his eyes, carefully sliding his precious pet off his lap, her limp body sank into the couch cushion comfortably. Matthew picked up his phone, scrolling through his various notifications.
“Thomas and Chris are back…” He mumbled to himself upon seeing a text and rubbed his eyes as he thumbed through his apps. His voicemail declared the number one, with a message waiting for him to listen to. He pressed it, and was surprised to see a awfully familiar number. “Bloody hell what does he want?”
“Matthew? It’s your brother, Charles. Look, I know its out of blue for me to call but it’s an emergency. You see… Father… He tried to do something ridiculous and wound up in the hospital again. Except this time… well it’s his head you see… Mum told me to call, she a bit distraught at the moment. You know how much she cherishes family... I’ve just called the girls as well-“
The phone slipped from Matthew’s grip as he put his head in his hands. He had to make arrangements right away he knew, but all Matthew wanted to do was scream. Tears were streaming down his cheeks as he took deep labored breaths to attempt to calm himself. Father is in good hands it’s just another …. incident ... nothing major … His nails dug into his scalp, the pain alerting him to the voice of his brother still droning on, but with the details of which hospital he was located at. Matthew wiped his eyes with his sleeves, as his shaky hand grasped his phone to listen again. He tuned out the beginning and with a pen and pad wrote down every important detail, and made note that at the moment his father was unconscious as the doctors tried to determine if he was concussed.
Matthew stood up, shoving his papers into his pocket, and running a hand through his hair, deflated as it was. He didn’t care and strode to his room to gather a overnight bag, toiletries, and his jacket. He immediately texted Thomas, Barbara Lightwood’s younger brother and good friend who just returned from a semester abroad with his other cousin, Christopher. The Lightwoods were in no way related to Matthew, but their parents had been close friends, and raised their families together like relatives would. He would understand Matthew’s situation the best out of anyone in the world, but he also needed a willing dog sitter.
“Adele!” Matthew called, whistling. Adele awoke and jumped, trotting over to Matthew and wiggling her butt since she did not have a tail. Matthew smiled shakily at her, scooping her up. “I have to go my darling… I’m sorry I can’t take you with me…” Adele licked the salt of his tears away, her round eyes boring into his with a knowing expression unfit for a canine. Matthew nodded and kissed the top of her head, before placing her down. His phone buzzed yet again, and Matthew sighed as he glanced at the response to his S.O.S.
I heard, but figured you were asleep. I’ll stay for Adele np. Call when you’re ready.
I’m heading out now, I’ll ttyl. Matthew texted back.
He slung his duffle bag over his shoulder, and after a thought, snatched a snapbill cap to cover his mess. Adele followed him dutifully, and when he reached the door he ruffled her head. “So long Adele.” She yipped and licked his hand reassuringly, and after one last look at his flat, Matthew turned away and shut the door behind him.