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"Stiles, you’re going to be bald if you keep getting haircuts every other week," Lydia says, running a hand through his buzz-cut. There was once a time where Stiles probably would’ve fainted at her touch. Instead, he nuzzles his head into her touch and she yanks her hand away, with a disapproving gleam in her eyes.
"What do you want from me, Lyd? I like it short," Stiles says, trying not to laugh.
"Uh huh. You actually don’t. Who was the one who booked you a hair appointment in the first place, anyway?" Lydia asks, eyeing him down. "I believe, yep, mhm, that was me. You love your hair long. So why the regular haircuts, Stilinski?”
He slings his backpack over one shoulder and stands up. “Maybe I’ve seen the light, in which you’re always right, and I like short-hair better.”
Lydia raises on eyebrow and stands up, following him out of the college cafeteria. “Yeah, whatever makes you sleep at night. We both know it has everything to do with the cute hairdresser who’s been cutting your hair.”
"No fucking way," Stiles says, but he’s laughing because Lydia’s right as usual. She doesn’t even have the decency to keep the smug look off her face.
"I don’t have my next hair appointment for three weeks,” Stiles admits. “But that’s only because I’m afraid I might end up bald if I don’t let it grow out a little bit.”
Lydia laughs when she pushes the door open and lets him walk through it. She’d given him both a gift and a curse the day she’d forced him into the school’s hair school.
She starts telling him about Jackson’s party plans for the weekend, and Stiles may accidentally tune her out so he can daydream about hi sexy hairdresser. He’d been seeing him for about six months now, once every few weeks (two, okay? once every two weeks because Stiles has no self-control and he’s pretty sure that Derek didn’t actually touch his hair every other appointment but he took Stiles’ money anyway).
They’d started off on the wrong foot, just as Stiles does with everything in his life. He had made a rather rude remark about how Derek is far too pretty to be studying to be a hairdresser, and Derek had lectured him the entire time he did his hair about how wrong Stiles comment was. He defended the hell out of men cutting and styling hair, so much so that Stiles had developed an instant crush. What, Derek Hale was hot when he was angry.
When the receptionist, Erica, had asked if he’d like her to book another appointment, he’d said two weeks. She’d raised an eyebrow in a similar fashion to Lydia but hadn’t said a word.
They’d gotten close because of his frequent trips in to see Derek. He’d had an appointment three days before his late mother’s birthday, and he’d ended up close to tears talking about how amazing she was to Derek. The following appointment, Derek had wanted to even the playing field and told him all about his crazy ex-girlfriend, Kate. Apparently, the bitch had almost murdered his family.
He has the slightest suspicion that hairdressers aren’t supposed to get close to their clients, but Stiles is grateful that Derek hadn’t let that stop him.
Stiles runs a hand through his hair. At least this time he’d taken Scott’s begging seriously and put his appointment off for one more week.
Because Stiles needs hair in order to see Derek. If he goes bald…well, then he wouldn’t have a valid excuse to see the hottie. And that just won’t do for Stiles.
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"Your boyfriend hates me," Stiles mutters when Lydia opens the door to Jackson’s mansion. "Why am I here again?"
"Because you’re my best friend. Besides, Jackson will play nice because I told him he’s not getting sex if he’s mean to you," Lydia tells him with a laugh. She waves them in. "How are you tonight, Scott?"
"Great. Thanks for inviting us," Scott says, gracious as always. Stiles gives Lydia a quick hug. Scott adds, "Is, uh, is Allison here?"
"She is. She’s looking pretty damn good in the kitchen," Lydia says, with a smile. She hooks her arm in Stiles’ before shutting the door. "Stilinski, I have a surprise for you."
"Lydia, no. The last time you said that I ended up half-naked in the pool.”
She doesn’t respond, but leads him through the house to the backyard. He might lean into her to get away from the edge of the pool, but then she’s circling him around behind a potted plant. He glances up and then his gaze freezes.
"Boys, I believe you know each other," Lydia says, smug look and all.
"H—hi," Stiles stammers. Oh what a great impression to make.
Derek looks surprised. “Stiles, hi.”
Then Lydia’s abandoning Stiles like the witch she is, and Stiles is running a hand nervously through his hair. Derek tilts his head, studying his handiwork.
"I guess you won’t be coming in to see me anytime soon," Derek murmurs.
Stiles presses his lips together for a moment before he blurts, “I mean, I have a friend who needs to get a haircut. I could, uh, bring him in.”
Derek nods. “That would be great. More regular clients the better.”
Stiles smiles, and then glances around the party. He’d been trying to convince Scott to go into see Derek for a couple of months now. Somehow, he’s going to have to beg. Maybe he’ll even promise Scott he’ll never make another Star Wars reference around him again. That might get his ass into Derek’s chair.
"Or," Stiles says, summoning some courage. If this goes downhill, he’ll lie and say that Lydia had fed him six shots in ten minutes. No one would question it. "Um, well, maybe I could stop by sometime to visit."
Derek tilts his head, and waits.
"Sometime at the end of your shift and we could…" Stiles waves his hands in the air before he realizes he must look like an ass. Then he snaps them to his sides and shakes his head. "Never mind, I just…I’ll bring Scott in sometime. Or, I guess, I’ll just get him an appointment. I don’t really need to come in with him or—"
"I’d like it if you did," Derek interrupts. Stiles freezes. Derek shrugs. "Listen, Stiles, I’m not supposed to hit on my clients. It’s all about keeping the profession…professional. But during your last cut, I told you about things that I never tell anyone.”
Stiles kicks a rock with his shoe. What is his life? What is happening right now? He looks up at Derek. “I told you about my mom.”
"Yeah." Derek nods before he steps forward and puts a hand on Stiles’ arm. He hadn’t known that he’d been trembling before Derek’s touch calmed him. "I’d like it if you took me out after a shift sometime."
A smile tugs on Stiles’ face. Then he lets out a shaky breath. “Yeah, okay, that sounds good. I…I’d like that too.”
"It’s a date?" Derek confirms.
Stiles laughs, nerves jumping again. “Yeah, it’s a date.”
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"Dear god," Lydia says a few months later. Her fingers are in Stiles’ hair again, with her unimpressed expression on her face. "Stilinski, you have got to get your boyfriend to do something with your hair. It’s getting a little ridiculous."
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