He’s lying down sideways on the bed, breadthwise so his legs are sticking out, one hand supporting his head and the other placed in front of him on the mattress. He eyes you with one of his signature looks, one of those I dare you to bring it up expressions. Attractive as he may be, as he always seems to be, nothing can detract from the thing atop his head.
Single eyebrow cocked, he eyes you as you drop your bag near the table and make your way towards him. His phone is next to his splayed out hand on the bed, and he moves it away, making space for you as you wordlessly lie down next to him, mirroring his position.
“Hello,” he says, nodding.
“Hello,” you reply, nodding as well.
This up close, the monstrosity is even more jarring, but he’s still looking at you with challenge in his eyes and you let your gaze roam over every thing else except his…hair.
“How are you?” he asks, politely contrite, obviously trying to avoid the exceedingly large, shockingly blond elephant in the room.
“I’m good, thank you for asking. And you?”
He narrows his eyes at your teasing tone, knowing that you’re just playing along and that your eventual bullying is inescapable.
“Peachy,” he perfunctorily replies, half-scowling half-grinning.
Distantly, you realise why Haechan had been more of a little shit than usual when he had let you into the dorm and told you where Jaehyun was.
“Something seems a little…different today. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
Rolling his eyes, he drily says, “Oh, really?”
Nodding in faux thoughtfulness, you continue, “Yeah, something about your just room feels kinda weird. Did you get a new humidifier? The air seems…frosty.”
He hums in acknowledgment, looking at you with unimpressed eyes, now resigned to the conversation.
Hardly able to keep yourself from giggling, you finally ask, “Did you do something to your hair?”
It’s the last straw. With a strangled sound of anguish, he falls backwards so he’s lying face up on the bed, one forearm thrown over his eyes dramatically, lips stuck in a pout.
“Stop teasing,” he whines, his other hand blindly swatting in your direction, catching your abdomen as he pushes you away and makes you fall backwards too.
But now you’re laughing in earnest as you scramble back up, undeterred, and shuffle on the bed on your knees over to the side of his head, dodging his wildly swiping arm.
Jaehyun huffs as you let your fingers trace through his spikey, blond locks.
“What on earth were they thinking, and more importantly, why haven’t you washed it off yet?” you ask, still hiccupping as you examine the cold, clumped strands.
He groans in annoyance as he lets you have your fun. “I don’t know, and Johnny’s been in the shower for the last half hour trying to fix his own hair disaster.”
“Oh, please tell me you have pictures.”
“It was a photoshoot, I’m fairly sure pictures were taken.”
“Shut up, snarky pants, your hair looks like solid vanilla ice cream that’s been set in a sea urchin mould,” you reply with an amused huff, now fascinated by how much product is holding the tips together.
With a grunt, he tugs your wrist away from his hair and insistently pulls at your arm until you’re yelping and falling onto his body, face squished into his neck, twisting so your legs are stretched in the same direction as his. He winds an arm around your waist and places the other at the back of your head, letting you fidget around until you’re comfortably stuck in the groove between his neck and shoulder, but more out of reluctance to let you see and laugh at his hair again than any real affection at the moment.
It doesn’t stop you from wriggling in place though, repeatedly trying to pop your head back up to get another glimpse of the sticky, white mop on top of his head and reach your arm out to touch it, only for Jaehyun to dodge you.
“I just – No, I just want to touch – Jaehyun, come on, I just wanna see if the roots are softer – Stop swatting me, asshole, I’m not a bloody mosquito, just give me a sec – AAARGH!“
“You’re a damn menace, you are,” he says, panting as he has both your wrists firmly placed on his chest. “How you have so much strength in your five foot body, I’ll never know.”
“Five foot two,” you tell to his beadily staring eyes, having managed to shift to a straddling position above him in your enthusiastic efforts, and letting yourself go limp with momentary tiredness from the rush.
“Does your size really count if half of it is your head?” he asks cheekily, dimples coming out in full force, once he’s warily let your wrists go after ensuring that you aren’t going to fly into a mad blur of flapping arms and unhinged energy again.
Crossing your arms, you fix him with a haughty look. “Does the size of your dick really count if half of it is your personality?”
He snorts at your smug grin, palms settling on your hips as he looks up at you. In the distance, you can hear a door open and then muffled shouting and bodies hitting walls before a loud cry of victory and a door slamming shut. A voice that sounds distinctly like Mark’s lets out a scream of anguish and then there’s pounding on wood and unclear cackling.
Johnny walks into the room towelling his damp hair dry, moving straight to his bed looking completely unbothered.
Another scream from outside.
“Hey, Y/N,” he cheerily says, seeming mighty pleased with all the chaos.
You wave your hand in greeting.
Sighing, fingers worriedly tracing patterns on your hips over your jeans, Jaehyun asks, “Who got the shower, then?”
“Haechan.”
Confused, you ask, “But I just saw him! His hair looked fine.”
“I think he just did it to stir up some trouble, to be honest.”
A loud ‘FUCK YOU!’.
Grinning, Johnny continues to your startled face, “Mark’s a little…aggrieved.”
Nodding solemnly, Jaehyun says, “Understandable. His hair is probably the worst.”
“Worse than yours?” you ask, dubiously looking at the blond tips.
Sighing, he tiredly answers, “Yes, worse than mine.”
Johnny walks towards the door, phone in hand. With a significant expression at Jaehyun, he says, “You should probably go wait outside the door if you want to get in anytime soon. Although, I should probably warn you that Doyoung looks ready to maim somebody, so maybe let him go before you.” Looking pleased as anything at another hellish scream, he practically skips out of the room.
You climb off Jaehyun and sit cross-legged on the bed as he moves away to get a towel. With a snort, you realise that the hair looks even worse from the back.
“You’re staying for dinner?” he asks, walking towards you, fluffy white cloth slung over his shoulder.
“That’s why I’m here,” you reply with a grin, leaning up as he bends and catching his lips in a kiss.
In the distance, you can hear a door being slowly unlocked and a rumble of multiple heavy footsteps.
“Go,” you softly mutter against his lips, pushing him away. He gives you one last quick peck, ignoring your whines about how you can smell how ugly his hair looks, responds to your ‘Give Haechan a high five from me, bless his trouble making soul’ with an eye roll, and high tails it out of the room.