Work Text:
"Aww, look at little you!" Alisson pointed to the first page of the photo album, stroking the photo as if it would take him back in time. "I just want to pick you up and cuddle you."
"When did you ever not?" Van Dijk chuckled at the photo of his smiling younger self, adjusting the tapes so the Polaroid was held more securely. "You literally hugged me the first day we met, after the Romaine game. Before we were even on the same team."
Alisson ignored the remark, his hand reaching over to touch Van Dijk's hair. "Those braids looked great on you back then! I mean, the man bun is your look right now, but..."
Van Dijk stared at Alisson as if he'd just suggested signing Jordan Pickford for the squad. "You can't be serious."
"I am! You'd look amazing."
"Little me was cute, that's why those braids worked for me. But I can't pull those off now! I don't even know how to do anything other than a simple braid."
"What about the time you went to visit your family last summer and you did those fancy-looking braids on Jennifer?"
"I did those on her! Braiding your own hair is a different level of complicated."
Well, that was entirely understandable and true. "In that case...maybe I could do it for you?"
"You don't have any sisters, and Muriel doesn't strike me as the kind who ever grew out his hair. Where did you learn how to braid?"
"That's what you said when the boss assigned me to start conducting the youth choir, and look at us now." Alisson closed the book and set it aside, turning back to Van Dijk. "Please? I promise I'll be careful. You can even take them out after I'm done and pull back your hair again."
Van Dijk rolled his eyes but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips. He hadn't worn his hair out of his usual style for years. But he knew Alisson meant well, and he did miss the days when he could rock a different hairstyle without worrying about what others would think. "Alright, but no hair glitter. Only Darwin can pull that off."
Alisson laughed and stood up, pulling Van Dijk with him. "Oh, don't worry. I've got other plans for you.”
*
Van Dijk sat at the bar counter in the kitchen as Alisson brushed out his hair. Van Dijk had already detangled and moisturised his hair like he did every morning, but Alisson had insisted on giving him the full experience.
“Hold still for the next part," Alisson chuckled, setting the hairbrush down and reaching for a pointed comb. "Darwin told me that when Lexi parted his hair, he moved so much that he almost took his eye out instead."
Van Dijk rolled his eyes, shaking the hair out of his face. "Darwin always moves when he's not supposed to move. And speaking of Darwin and his lookalikes, did you know the boss used to braid Buvac's hair?"
Alisson's eyes widened in surprise, and he almost dropped the comb. "Really?"
"Yeah, back when they were playing. The boss used to braid flowers into it, and then he would take out the braids before going back to visit his family--ouch, watch it!" Van Dijk winced as the comb hit a snarl in the back of his head. "You're going to make the back of my neck bald like Flaco."
"Oh, sorry!" Alisson pulled the comb back from Van Dijk's scalp, stroking the afflicted spot as if it would undo the pain. “I never imagined Buvac with braided hair. I never even imagined him in the same building as us.”
If Van Dijk could nod in agreement, he would. Sunday had been one heck of a day for everybody on the team. First, they got eliminated in the FA Cup to their greatest rivals in extra time. Then after the match, Lijnders drove the bus back to the hotel after revealing that he'd sent Klopp to take a walk. Then, after a group movie night in the hotel auditorium that became more of an eat-ice-cream-and-loudly-air-the-grievances party, Klopp walked into the room looking like he'd just been beaten up by a swamp monster. And if that wasn't already confusing enough, Buvac walked through the door, dragging a huge blue suitcase behind him. The aftermath, to put it shortly, had been chaos, with Buvac joining them on the bus back to Kirkby.
"It's funny, you know. All this time, none of us talked about Buvac except when we plotted how to get revenge on him. And now he's in the same building with us." Van Dijk looked down at the counter, tracing the lines in the marble. “What do you think of him? I know you came here after he left.”
“He’s…okay, I guess?” Alisson started to weave his fingers through Van Dijk’s hair, starting the base of the first braid. “I don’t know. I know the boss and him were best friends, but then he went and ignored him for six years. He’s been a villain for so long in my head, that seeing him be friendly with the boss feels like an alternate universe. I know it sounds kind of weird…”
“It doesn’t,” Van Dijk interjected. He reached upwards and behind him to brush his hand against Alisson’s wrist. “Right now most of us were bought after he left. I don’t even know what to call him anymore now that Lijnders is the vice-boss.”
“I didn’t even think about that.” Alisson finished the first braid, tying an elastic to hold the ends in place. “Caoimh told me Harvey’s calling him Masterius Phi.”
Van Dijk fondly rolled his eyes. If there was one thing that wouldn’t change over the summer, it was Elliott’s continuous antics. “How’d he even come up with that?”
“Harvey’s brain works in mysterious ways.” Alisson dipped his left hand into the tub of moisturising cream, grabbing a comb with the other. “Now hold still, Virg.”
As Alisson deftly wove his hair into a complex pattern of braids, Van Dijk couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious. It had been so long since he had worn his hair like this, and he couldn't help but wonder what the others would think. He knew his teammates weren’t judgmental by any means and would be very positive about it, but he still didn’t want to show up to training looking like he’d just rolled out of bed.
“Stop thinking like that.” As if he could read his thoughts, Alisson stopped what he was doing and hugged Van Dijk from behind, careful not to get any hair product on the towel he’d wrapped around him. “You’re going to look great with these.”
Van Dijk chuckled as he leaned into Alisson’s embrace. “Because you’re the one braiding?”
Alisson shook his head, releasing Van Dijk to continue braiding. “Because you’re the one wearing them.”
“I still think it’s because you’re braiding them.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not! Can you imagine if Domi tried to braid my hair?”
“ Ai, that would be a disaster!”
“And yet, if Trentski decided to grow out his hair again, Domi would still manage to get his braids down to a science.”
“The power of love, I guess.” Finally, Alisson dried his hands on a smaller towel and stepped back, handing Van Dijk a mirror. “ Está feito! What do you think?”
Van Dijk opened his eyes and looked in the mirror. Instead of the sleek man bun that he’d grown so used to, there were seven intricate, swirling cornrow braids, whose ends stopped just above his shoulders. “Oh… oh, I love it. I know it sounds cliche, but it’s amazing. You couldn’t have done it any better than you did.”
“Seven braids.” Alisson blushed a rosy pink from the praise, which he tried to hide by quickly rearranging the hair products back in their basket. “For good luck, minha estrela.”