Work Text:
Jake was sitting on one of the barstools at the kitchen island, part of his hair held up with plastic hair clips. He was twirling around in his seat, looking at Thatcher expectantly. Thatcher grabbed Jake on the shoulders, holding him firmly in place.
“For the record, I don’t even want to cut your hair,” Thatcher said, squeezing Jake’s shoulders. “I don’t even know why you ‘need’ one.” Thatcher made air quotes around ‘need’ wanting to emphasize his point that this was unnecessary.
Jake smiled, chuckling weakly.
“I’ve literally only cut hair three times before and you want me to give you a fade,” Thatcher said, raking a hand down his face. “Is that really a good idea?”
Jake assumed a boxing posture, leaning forward and punching the air in front of him. “You’ll catch that fade just fine, babe.”
Thatcher took his hand and pushed Jake’s head forward as he scoffed. All Jake could do was chuckle and look over his shoulder at Thatcher, giving his boyfriend a wide grin.
Grabbing the clippers, Thatcher motioned Jake to lean over on the barstool. Jake did as instructed, positioning himself in a way that gave Thatcher easy access to his head.
“I probably won’t be able to give you anything other than what you want,” Thatcher said, switching the clippers on. “So, I hope you haven’t changed your mind.”
Shaking his head, Jake smiled. “Nah. If I had changed my mind, I would’ve used Nair as shampoo.”
Rolling his eyes, Thatcher started buzzing the back of Jake’s hair. Jake jolted a little which caused Thatcher to jerk the clippers awkwardly on Jake’s hair. Thatcher cursed when he saw an uneven line going from one ear to the other across the back of Jake’s head. Trying his best to not let that affect his focus, Thatcher returned to buzzing Jake’s hair.
After a moment, Jake suddenly leaned down which made Thatcher swipe the clippers completely up the back of Jake’s head. Luckily, Thatcher didn’t catch too much of Jake’s hair in the process, meaning the damage was minimal.
“Jake, what–” Thatcher started.
Jake formed his right hand into the Spider-Man web-slinger shape, pointing it at Thatcher and making a pew-pew sound before pulling his hand toward his body. Thatcher had a look of confusion on his face while Jake was all smiles and giggles.
“I wanted to be Spider-Man,” Jake said, repeating the previous action.
Thatcher rolled his eyes and lifted Jake’s head with the hand that wasn’t holding the clippers. Jake frowned but didn’t resist what Thatcher was trying to do. As soon as Jake’s head was in a suitable position, Thatcher went back to buzzing Jake’s hair.
The first thing Thatcher did was fix the accidental mess he had made when Jake had jerked his head down. It took longer than Thatcher would’ve liked but he managed to fix everything to look half decent. Grabbing the soft-bristled brush from the hair kit, Thatcher brushed off some of the hair that was sticking to Jake’s head. Thatcher saw Jake shiver as he ran the brush along Jake’s neck.
Putting the brush back into the kit, Thatcher went back to buzzing Jake’s hair. It took a few more minutes but Thatcher was finally satisfied with the way Jake’s hair looked. Thatcher switched the clippers off and placed them on the island. Jake turned around on the barstool, leaning on the island.
“Is it done,” Jake asked, running a hand down the back of his head. Jake hummed happily. “It feels good. Can you take a picture so I can see what it looks like?”
Nodding, Thatcher pulled out his phone and pointed it at the back of Jake’s head. Thatcher snapped a quick picture before he handed his phone to Jake. Jake smiled as he examined what was on the screen.
“Do you take constructive criticism,” Jake asked.
Thatcher felt his heart sink into his stomach. Before he could respond, Jake continued talking.
“Construction criticism? Criticism from a construction worker? Construction paper–”
Thatcher pushed Jake’s shoulder and snatched his phone back from Jake.
“Harhar.”
Jake chuckled and leaned over to kiss Thatcher. Thatcher smiled into the kiss, appreciating that Jake enjoyed the haircut enough to thank him like this.
When Jake pulled back, he ruffled Thatcher’s hair. Thatcher looked at Jake quizzically, raising an eyebrow. All Jake did was smile and grab the clippers.
“I think you deserve a fade to match mine, eh?”