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Yoongi had never been someone who followed fashions and trends that didn’t fit his personal taste, especially when it came to his hair. On most days, it was hidden under a beanie or a snapback anyway, so he didn’t see much sense in spending money, time, and effort on making it conform to fleeting “hot styles.” He usually washed it with some not-too-expensive shampoo, rubbed it dry and put it back under a hat of any sort. Done.
Everything changed shortly after Namjoon came into Yoongi’s store with a brand-new sidecut, avoiding Yoongi’s incredulous stare by shrinking deeper into his sunglasses. Were those razor lines in there?
“Seokjin suggested it!” Namjoon said, his hands raised in defense, as if that explained everything. “And I think it’s pretty epic. So shut up, hyung.”
“I didn’t even say anything. And who the hell is Seokjin?” Yoongi demanded.
“My new hairdresser,” Namjoon replied. Lowering his hands, he looked Yoongi over and gave a lofty sniff. “A change of style wouldn’t hurt you either.”
With Yoongi gaping after him, he stalked off to the shirt racks.
“He’s right, you know,” Hoseok commented breezily from where he was putting up new accessories.
“Shut up, dipshit!”
-
Namjoon, the asshole, had left a business card on Yoongi’s counter on his way out while Yoongi was busy sorting a new shipment of shorts and ignoring him indignantly. When he found it right next to the register, he was that close to setting it on fire as an act of vengeance. But the design caught his eye; a simple, black butterfly on white background and on the back the name Butterfly Dream, the address and a phone number.
He grappled with his pride for three days, then he caved and got up a little earlier to stop by the hairdresser’s before he had to open shop. Seokjin was a handsome, broad-shouldered guy Yoongi guessed to be in his early thirties—around his own age—who smiled prettily when Yoongi mentioned Namjoon. Yoongi walked away with an appointment for the next morning, which would required him to roll out of bed at what he considered an ungodly hour. “It better be worth it,” he grumbled to himself, stuffing the reminder slip into his pocket.
That was how Yoongi came to drag himself into the hair salon that one fateful morning. His eyes were barely open even after a healthy dose of caffeine and he felt about ready to kill anyone who even so much as thought about shaving off half his hair. The door had barely closed behind him when someone poked their head around the partition to the actual work space.
“Hello! Are you Min Yoongi-ssi?”
Yoongi looked up, peered past his swollen eyelids and froze. The guy was gorgeous, no question, but what really got Yoongi right in the gut was his smile; the way it pulled around his eyes and his mouth, how it crinkled up his nose and revealed a row of cute, white teeth. And when you suddenly found someone’s teeth cute, you knew you were in trouble.
Almost cringing at that particular thought, Yoongi pulled himself together and nodded. “Yeah, that’s me.”
“My name’s Jeongguk, I’m going to be doing your hair today,” the other said in a friendly-professional voice, flashing his teeth again in another smile.
Yoongi died a little inside, but managed to follow Jeongguk around the partition to a chair. He sunk down in it gratefully and pulled off his snapback, quickly raking a hand through his hair to make it less lank. It was a lost cause, though. Next to Jeongguk’s shining, thick dark hair, Yoongi’s looked like something the cat dragged in.
When Jeongguk’s fingers suddenly fluffed through the dull strands, his heart stopped for a moment before he remembered that it was part of Jeongguk’s job. He watched in the mirror how a frown appeared on Jeongguk’s handsome face and transformed it from vaguely youthful into intensely attractive.
Yoongi was very glad he was sitting down.
“Your hair’s a little dry,” Jeongguk told him, pulling his hands away, much to Yoongi’s disappointment. “I can recommend you a shampoo that might help with that. Do you use conditioner?”
Squashing down the irrational surge of embarrassment that rose within him, he curtly replied, “No.”
Jeongguk didn’t look the least bit surprised. “You might want to start,” he said neutrally, but it felt like he was a second away from rolling his eyes. “So. What style did you want today?”
“Um,” Yoongi stalled because he probably should have thought about that before he walked into the salon. “Something different, but not too flashy?”
Jeongguk’s intense, thoughtful scrutiny displayed very clearly in the mirror made a bone-deep shiver vibrate through Yoongi’s body. “How about a new color?”
Yoongi’s mind flashed to the lavender hue he’d seen one of his customers sporting a few days ago. Some of the horror must have shown on his face, because Jeongguk’s face relaxed into the cute smile again. “Don’t worry, nothing awful. Maybe a brown, that’s not too radical.”
“Okay, sure. I’ll leave it to you,” Yoongi’s mouth answered. When Jeongguk looked pleased and bounced away—presumably to prepare towels and dye and whatnot—Yoongi deflated into his chair and cursed himself for his weakness. If this turned out horrible, Namjoon’s teasing would be endless.
Surprisingly, it didn’t turn out horrible. The medium brown certainly wasn’t flashy, and after Jeongguk had expertly snipped away at the abused ends dangling into Yoongi’s eyes, his hair actually looked like hair again and not like a dead animal.
Sadly, however, that was just the beginning of Yoongi’s downward spiral.
He received an appointment for four weeks later, because apparently people with actual hairstyles needed to get a regular trim to keep them in shape. Jeongguk looked so adorably pleased with himself at saving Yoongi from hiding his hair under hats for all eternity that Yoongi didn’t have the heart to turn him down, so he just silently pocketed his appointment and went about his merry way.
Hoseok promptly broke out into deafening cackles as Yoongi set foot into his store. “Oh my god,” he screeched, holding onto the counter for support. “You actually did it!”
“Do you want to die?” Yoongi growled at him, tempted to go over and give him a good ass-kicking. Alas, he needed Hoseok to help around the store because he was actually good at dealing with customers.
By then, Hoseok was nearly on the floor with laughter, but he managed to stick his head around the corner to give Yoongi a thumbs-up. “It looks really good, hyung,” he gasped out.
Yoongi didn’t dignify that with an answer.
-
When Namjoon next strolled into his store, he gave Yoongi a smug smile at the dyed fringe poking out from under his beanie, but wisely chose not to comment.
-
Four weeks later, Yoongi let Jeongguk happily deep-condition his hair and cut off all the ends he deemed too long or too unhealthy, just silently watching him work. Usually, Yoongi hated going to the salon because all his previous hairdressers felt the need to constantly try and make conversation with him, even when they were blow-drying his hair and Yoongi couldn’t understand a word they said. Jeongguk, however, just quietly moved his scissors here and there, carding a hand or a comb through his hair, and the only words he spoke after he got started were an occasional instruction about moving his head. It was the most relaxing experience Yoongi had ever had with someone fussing about his hair. On the way to his shop, he caught himself right before he started whistling.
Hoseok hadn’t stopped sending him smug looks ever since the initial change of style and Yoongi had gotten extraordinarily good at ignoring him. When he came in the door actually smiling, however, Hoseok stopped in his tracks to stare and Yoongi found it hard to ignore that.
“What?” he demanded.
“Okay, seriously now,” Hoseok said, eyeing him closely. “Is that Seokjin guy’s place just a euphemism for a weed shop or something? You and Namjoon are starting to freak me out with how happy you always are after going there.”
Yoongi rolled his eyes, but his smile stayed. “Just go check it out yourself if you’re so curious.”
“Maybe I will.”
And he must have, since a few days later, he came to work with his hair freshly cut and dyed a dark red. Yoongi couldn’t tell if he was any happier than usual—Hoseok’s default state of being was happy, after all—but he couldn’t help but side-eye the new style and wonder whether Jeongguk was responsible for it.
Fortunately, he didn’t need to find an inconspicuous way to broach the topic as Hoseok brought it up himself when they were shelving new hoodies.
“I wasn’t really sure about the color at first, you know, but Jimin convinced me it’d look good,” he told Yoongi contentedly, diligently stacking clothes. Even as he was aware he was being ridiculous (Jeongguk had to have dozens of other customers beside him), Yoongi couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. Who was Jimin though? Was he slinking around the shop?
“Jimin?” Yoongi asked in his most casual voice. “Does he work for Seokjin?”
Hoseok paused to blink at him. “Yeah. Hasn’t he been the one doing your hair?”
“Nah, some kid named Jeongguk.” Yoongi silently asked forgiveness for the gross inaccuracy of describing Jeongguk as some kid.
“Huh.” Thoughtfully, Hoseok went back to folding. “I think I’ve seen him around the salon. Cute, tall kid with big eyes and bunny teeth?”
Cute as fuck. “Yep.”
“Ah. Jimin seems to like him a lot, always looks out for him and hangs around him. He must be a good kid,” Hoseok mused.
He didn’t seem to notice how Yoongi nearly sent the box in front of them flying with his horrified cringe.
-
Yoongi had never felt such burning desire for the day of a haircut appointment to finally come. When he walked into Butterfly Dream this time, he actually took in his surroundings instead of only staring longingly at Jeongguk and noticed that next to Seokjin, there were another guy and a woman working in the shop. The woman was middle-aged and could have been Seokjin’s mother or aunt for all he cared; she wasn’t who he was interested in.
The guy appeared more of his and Jeongguk’s age. It was hard to tell with his face, all angelic eye-smiles and chubby cheeks, which contrasted sharply with his lithe, muscular body and the stylishly mussed hair he was sporting. He seemed to be the bubbly, cheerful type of person. In the two minutes that Yoongi had been inside the salon, Jimin had smiled a total of eleven times and broken into a charming laugh twice.
Yoongi didn’t like him at all.
He was still hoping that his crush on Jeongguk would just fade over time because he was awful at dealing with cute, shy kids and he’d probably just make Jeongguk cry. However, in the face of potential competition, it was better to be safe than sorry, so Yoongi decided to at least lay on the charm a little more.
When Jeongguk caught his gaze in the mirror after finishing his trim, Yoongi gave him the Smile. The one he hated on average days because he thought it made him look like a kindergartener. Hoseok, however, insisted it made him look charming and handsome, so Yoongi figured it was worth a try.
Jeongguk ended up looking a little dazed and flustered, which might mean it worked. Seokjin, who had apparently caught sight of Yoongi’s face from a few feet off, broke into hysterical giggles. Yoongi scowled at him and marched to the register with his head held high.
(If asked, he would forever deny later checking what his face looked like smiling with his phone camera.)
-
As the days passed by, Yoongi’s roots were beginning to show—which didn’t bother him much since the ends were only partly visible under his hats on most days—but three months after his first trim, Jeongguk stared him down in the mirror. “These roots need to go.”
Yoongi’s insides turned to goo at the intensity of his gaze. He shrugged helplessly. “Alright. Do whatever you want.”
At that, Jeongguk perked up, all lightness and bunny teeth. “Really? Can I mix in a little bit of red?”
His eagerness was so infectious that Yoongi’s lips hiked up of their own accord, in spite of his last disastrous attempt at smiling at Jeongguk. “Sure, go for it. Why not?”
The small hitch in his professional behavior was endearing, so Yoongi found himself looking for signs of it as Jeongguk puttered about, mixing colors. He hadn’t even known he was still smiling until he happened to glance at himself in the mirror. Across the room, he could see Seokjin eyeing him again—with a thoughtful frown this time—but before he could think too deeply into that, Jeongguk was back at his chair.
Yoongi wasn’t entirely sure about the reddish brown he ended up with. Jeongguk, on the other hand, seemed happy, pushing the strands into place just so with nimble fingers, a tiny smile curling the corners of his mouth. He kept fluffing at Yoongi’s hair, brushing it this way or the other. “It goes well with your skin,” he said, almost absently—a statement a lot more personal than any of their previous interactions. Yoongi watched how the reddish strands flowed through Jeongguk’s hands and decided his favorite thing about this color was how it looked caught between Jeongguk’s long fingers.
-
Hoseok eyed him suspiciously when he came into the store. “You trying to copy me, hyung?”
“Is that a serious question? Is there even a brain left in your head, idiot?” Yoongi said, giving Hoseok and his completely different hair color a disbelieving look.
“Right,” Hoseok said, nodding to himself before he turned back to the boots he was setting up. “You’d never be able to compare to my awesomeness anyways.”
Yoongi rolled his eyes so hard he nearly gave himself a headache.
Namjoon actually looked shocked when he saw him next, which Yoongi ignored as skillfully as the previous smugness. His hair was red; so what? When Namjoon waltzed in a few weeks later with a slick, platinum blond style, Yoongi snickered at him over an accessory display, entertained at the way Namjoon’s cheeks turned pink.
-
The next time he entered the salon, Jeongguk was sporting red hair himself. Yoongi found it looked a hundred times better on Jeongguk than it had ever looked on him.
Jeongguk caught him staring and reached a hand up to nervously tug at the strands tickling his neck. “It’s new.”
“It looks goood,” Yoongi blurted out before he could stop himself.
A pretty smile spread across Jeongguk’s face. “Thank you. I like red,” he offered, like he was verbally stretching out a hand, only that Yoongi wasn’t sure what it was he was reaching for.
In his confusion, he said, “I like how red looks on you” before he had even processed that it might be construed as inept flirting. Which was actually rather accurate, he mused, as Jeongguk’s cheeks bloomed almost as red as his hair and his heart lurched in response.
A loud and vaguely horrified snort broke them out of their moment. Turning his head, Yoongi saw Seokjin staring at them with disbelieving amusement. Jimin was bent over in a mute case of the giggles right next to him. “Grade schoolers are more eloquent than you two. I refuse to listen to this any longer. Just go wash his hair, Jeongguk.”
If possible, Jeongguk’s cheeks flushed even darker. To his dismay, Yoongi found his own heating up a little under Seokjin’s judging gaze as he followed Jeongguk’s quick shuffle to the nearest basin. With a sense of mutinous resolve, Yoongi decided going back to brown would be the best revenge for Seokjin’s uncalled for interruption. The logic behind that he couldn’t even explain to himself, so maybe it was fortuitous that no one asked him about his motivations; not even Jeongguk, who looked like he mourned the loss of Yoongi’s reddish hair somewhere deep in his soul.
To cheer Jeongguk up a little, Yoongi let him hack off some of his bangs so that they ended straight underneath his eyebrows and would very probably blind him in two weeks’ time. It was such a boring, goody-goody look compared to the one he’d had before. Jeongguk seemed to think so as well, because he traipsed away and returned rubbing some wax between his fingertips that he used to tease out some pieces of Yoongi’s hair. His satisfied nod at the end was the cutest thing Yoongi had seen in days.
-
There was a kid who came into Yoongi’s store regularly—the previously lavender haired one –and who immediately stopped in his tracks as he spotted Yoongi’s hair, looking dismayed. “Aw, no, ahjusshi! Why’d you do that? You look like an accountant,” he pouted, “or a math teacher or something boring like that.”
(Hoseok promptly started cackling somewhere near the back of the store. “I told you so, hyung!”)
Yoongi didn’t know what offended him more; the fact that some kid thought he was old enough to be called ahjusshi, or the fact that someone with orange hair thought to offer him fashion advice.
“You looked so cool before,” the kid lamented, sadly shaking his head and disappearing in the direction of Hoseok’s howls of laughter before Yoongi could gather enough wit to respond.
-
That particular evaluation of his hair (confirmed a third time by a snickering Namjoon when carefully asked about his opinion), combined with Jeongguk’s sad puppy face at having had to dye over the previous color, led Yoongi to actively consider going back to red hair. Maybe a different red this time.
When he told Jeongguk at his next appointment, he received a megawatt smile in return. Brandishing a gazillion different options in Yoongi’s face, Jeongguk began to elaborate on which color held more brilliance and which was easier on the hair and which used more organic components. It was so much to take in that Yoongi’s brain just shut down and he spent the next minutes dazedly staring at Jeongguk’s moving lips. Pretty, kissable lips.
“So,” Jeongguk said. “Do you know which one you want?”
Yoongi blankly glanced down at the samples spread out in front of him, then back up at Jeongguk. “Honestly, I have no idea about all this. You choose.”
“Me?” Jeongguk said, sounding taken aback.
“Sure. I trust you,” Yoongi replied easily because this was a no-brainer for him.
Wide-eyed, Jeongguk just stared at him for a good few seconds, apparently thoroughly speechless. Then he bent his head to dig through the color samples and pull out a specific one. When Yoongi just gave a shrug and a ‘go ahead’-quirk of lips in response to his questioning glance, Jeongguk smiled bashfully and hurried off to mix the dye.
It didn’t take more than five seconds for Jimin to materialize at Jeongguk’s side, obviously curious at the look on his face. Yoongi couldn’t hear what was being said, but with the way the back of Jeongguk’s ears turned red, there had to be teasing involved. Jimin’s face was surprisingly hard to read thanks to the perpetual grin he was wearing, but Yoongi kept a close eye on how he was plastered to Jeongguk’s side, nudging him with a hip. Only a few moments later, Jeongguk was shoving him off, but he was also shaking with silent laughter; the cute, eye-crinkling sort. Yoongi wished he had been the one to set that off, but he basked in it all the same.
Later, however, as he was combing through Yoongi’s now wine red hair, Jeongguk frowned unhappily. “I need to cut off a bit more than usual. All the dyeing is affecting your hair.”
“Alright,” Yoongi said, not really caring because his brain was uselessly flopping around in his head under the melting intensity of those wrinkled eyebrows.
Jeongguk gave him a disapproving look. “You should start using a different shampoo—and using conditioner at all if you want to keep dyeing.”
Yoongi nodded automatically, too dazed to form words.
That was how Yoongi came to spend an exorbitant amount of money on hair care products. He was of the firm belief he’d let Jeongguk sweet-talk him into unnecessary purchases, backed by bunny smiles and dark eyes, until he used his new stuff for the first time. He felt ridiculously amazing afterwards, his hair so soft and pliable and shiny that he even started forgoing his hats on some days.
-
“You are copying me!” Hoseok accused him loudly, pointing rudely.
Yoongi hadn’t even realized Hoseok’s hair was a pretty similar color to his new red; he had been too preoccupied with Jeongguk. Of course, he wasn’t about to admit that out loud, so he just shrugged. “Change yours if you don’t like it or shut up and deal with it.”
He didn’t know how to feel about it when Hoseok came in with a light brown a while later, sticking out his tongue at him as if to rub it in. Did he consider Yoongi so uncool that having the same hair color as him automatically deleted points of his hotness scale or something?
Yoongi might or might not have moped around the store for the rest of the day, giving everyone who even as much as breathed loudly in his general vicinity the most deadly glare he could muster.
Obviously taking note of his behavior, Hoseok staged an intervention in the form of Namjoon, who showed up at closing time. With their combined strength, they dragged Yoongi away for a night of heavy drinking in the company of their sorry asses, which was probably what they considered to be a therapeutic and healing experience. It actually was fun for a while when Yoongi was completely plastered and laughing at the humiliation being spooned out during their drinking games.
It wasn’t so fun anymore when he woke up the next morning with an awful hangover and a convoluted reminder text on his phone from the previous night about how he’d lost a bet. The punishment: dye his hair pink.
“What the fuck?” Yoongi croaked hoarsely at his phone and almost puked at the stab his own voice sent through his head.
“What the actual fuck?” he repeated later, much louder and angrier, brandishing his phone accusingly in Hoseok’s face.
Hoseok squinted at the screen. “Ah. Right. Sorry, hyung, but rules are rules.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I can’t walk around with pink hair!”
“I might look nice,” Hoseok replied cheerfully, shrugging at him.
Yoongi glared. “I have a reputation to uphold, dammit!”
Hoseok had the audacity to laugh in his face. “Oh my god, nice one, hyung!” he gasped breathlessly, holding his sides. “Maybe pink hair will actually match your reputation for once. You’re just a big marshmallow, really.”
The ass-kicking he received really was Hoseok’s own fault.
When Yoongi griped at Namjoon later over the phone, Namjoon wouldn’t let him back down from the punishment either.
“My hair will fall out from all the dyeing,” Yoongi barked at him. “You will be responsible when I go bald, Kim Namjoon!”
“Aren’t you wearing a hat anyways?” Namjoon replied, not impressed.
After fifteen minutes of cursing back and forth, Namjoon agreed to at least give Yoongi until the end of the year to dye his hair. Even he wasn’t so heartless as to risk his friend’s hair falling out from the strain.
-
Yoongi put it off for as long as he could, but eventually Jeongguk started to give his roots disapproving looks again and then Namjoon sent him a text containing Seokjin’s latest fortune cookie wisdom about bleaching hair. Apparently, it would take a while if he wanted to still have hair and skin on his head afterwards, so Yoongi sighed and resolved to take the matter up with Jeongguk on his next appointment.
Jeongguk (then with ash-blond streaks in his hair) froze behind him, almost goggling. “Pink? Are you sure?”
Trying not to squirm in his seat, Yoongi awkwardly cleared his throat. “I… lost a bet.”
That seemed to be a satisfactory explanation since Jeongguk nodded solemnly in understanding. “I see.”
“Just please don’t make it hot pink,” Yoongi said and his tone might have been a little desperate.
At that, Jeongguk’s eyes turned into happy crescents. “Don’t worry, Yoongi-ssi, I’ll do my best to make it look cool.” And surprisingly, Yoongi suddenly felt calm about the whole issue
Jeongguk verbally walked him through the whole process of going from a natural black to pink hair and it really drove home why this was a punishment: next to the emotional humiliation of trying to get swag going with pink hair, it involved the physical component of multiple, painful bleaching sessions to arrive at a blonde base for the pink dye. Maybe it was better that way, but he couldn’t even remember what kind of bet it was he lost! Yoongi swore that the first thing he was going to do when he got home that night was to search up a storm online about even more awful punishments he could use on his so-called friends when they next lost.
Something of his vengeful thoughts or inner agony must have shown on his face, because Jeongguk reached out to tentatively pat him on the shoulder. “Colorful hair is in these days, it’ll be alright.”
“Thanks.” Yoongi gave him a smile that looked more like a grimace.
Jeongguk smiled back a lot more successfully. “Please wait here. I’ll go and confirm with Seokjin-hyung about the bleach and the toners I’m going to use.”
Yoongi watched him drag Seokjin over to their shelves of products for a quick discussion. It seemed Jeongguk was more knowledgeable about it than he let on, as Seokjin mostly just nodded at him and finally gave him an encouraging hair ruffle before returning to his customer. By then, Yoongi could have started a countdown to Jimin’s appearance at Jeongguk’s side. It had a clockwork regularity to it, as if Jeongguk was a giant magnet drawing Jimin to him. And surely enough, within seconds, Jimin abandoned his own customer to glue himself to Jeongguk.
He must have told Jimin why he was mixing bleach because Jimin glanced over at Yoongi and promptly started shaking with full-body laughter. Not for the first time, Yoongi was intensely thankful it wasn’t Jimin cutting his hair or he might have resorted to homicide already. Even Jimin’s natural cuteness wouldn’t have been enough to save him from Yoongi’s wrath.
Apparently, Jeongguk wasn’t too happy with Jimin’s giggles either since he turned away from his task for a second to sock Jimin in the shoulder, looking forbidding with his eyebrows drawn together like that. Jimin took the hint and slunk away, still cackling.
When Jeongguk returned to Yoongi’s side, their eyes met in the mirror and Jeongguk gave him a sheepish face. “Sorry about that. Jimin-hyung, um, laughs a lot.”
Either the words or Jeongguk’s mere presence immediately soothed the huffy part of Yoongi bristling over Jimin’s behavior and he smiled more easily this time. “Nah, it’s alright. It is kinda funny, I guess.”
The grateful look with the tiny smile Jeongguk gave him in return warmed Yoongi to the tips of his ears.
So Yoongi sat through the first session of a lot more aggressive bleaching than he had been through for his previous colors. His hair came out looking a weird orangey red he’d be glad to shove under a hat, but Jeongguk assured him that that was normal. Yoongi was then lectured about hair care in such a charming way he spent another exorbitant sum on salon-exclusive products to heighten his chances of not having to shave himself bald after this.
Hoseok wisely refrained from commenting on Yoongi’s hair this time around, fleeing to the back room instead to rid himself of his overflowing mirth. In a black mood, Yoongi spent five minutes in front of one of the many mirrors in his store, trying to hide every little strand of hair under a beanie before he gave up. There just wasn’t any way of hiding the short hairs in front of his ears without ending up looking even weirder.
It took two more bleaching sessions and careful toner application for Yoongi’s hair to turn into a light, almost white color. The ends looked horrible at that point, but Yoongi was astounded at how well the color worked for him. It brought out his eyes, which he thought could really use the help with how small they were, especially compared to Jeongguk’s big doe eyes smiling at him through the mirror.
“The blonde looks really good on you,” he told Yoongi, gently pushing a hand through his hair. “Pity we have to make it pink.”
Yoongi tried not to lean into Jeongguk’s touch too obviously. “Yeah, I’m not so wild for that either.”
Jeongguk’s fingers turned contemplative, experimentally pushing Yoongi’s frizzy hair around into different styles. When he wrinkled his eyebrows and bit his lip, Yoongi could practically watch his own cheeks flush pink in the mirror in response. Damn, he was being way too obvious.
Before he could do anything about that, Jeongguk spoke up again. “I’ll try not to make the coloring too pink and your ends need to be trimmed after, but can I also suggest an undercut? I think it would go well with the light color.”
For all the time he spent going to the salon lately, Yoongi still didn’t know shit about hair, so he shrugged and gave Jeongguk a grin through the mirror. “You know I trust you. Do it.”
Jeongguk froze for just a second and Yoongi thought he saw a blush spread across his cheeks, but he couldn’t tell for sure before Jeongguk turned away to prepare the color.
No matter what Jeongguk had promised about doing his best, when Yoongi came back to the chair in front of the mirror after washing the color out, he found he looked like a drowned radioactive rat with the strangely colored strands limply hanging from his head. He hoped Jeongguk was some kind of miracle worker and could actually save him from having every customer in his store stare or laugh at him for the foreseeable future. So he closed his eyes and let Jeongguk snip away at his hair and raze off big chunks of it all around his head, brushing the longer top part back over it once he was done. Yoongi kept his eyes closed even through the blow-drying, at this point a little apprehensive about how it was going to turn out because fucking pink.
The blow-dryer turned off.
He was still trying to gather enough courage to open his eyes when he felt Jeongguk’s hands on his head again, running gentle fingertips down the close-cropped hairs hidden under the top layer. Yoongi shivered at the feeling, inhaling sharply. The fingers paused for a long moment and Yoongi wondered what kind of expression was on Jeongguk’s face then, before they repeated the movement more deliberately.
Yoongi’s eyes shot open at that and he must have moved a little, because Jeongguk quickly pulled his fingers out of Yoongi’s now rather strangely colored hair. The flash of pink distracted Yoongi for a moment.
It looked… surprisingly good. The color was soft and rich, like crab meat, and the undercut gave his hair a leaner, but still thick shape.
Yoongi glanced up at Jeongguk through the mirror to gauge his reaction. He looked wide-eyed and a little flustered, not daring to meet his gaze for a long moment. Then he took a deep breath and looked up at Yoongi with a tremulous smile. “It didn’t turn out too bad, I hope.”
“No, you did a great job,” Yoongi reassured him quickly. “Thank you.” What the hell had that been just now though?
“Well, then you’re good to go,” Jeongguk replied a little too cheerfully, pulling the cape off Yoongi’s shoulders. He had a vaguely spooked air to him all through ringing Yoongi up and seemed glad to see him go. When Yoongi looked back on his way out, puzzled at the strange behavior, he saw a frowning Jimin appear to fuss over Jeongguk’s slump-shouldered figure.
-
Namjoon and Hoseok were already lying in wait for him. As soon as he stepped foot into the store, they pounced and pulled his snapback off.
“No!” Hoseok screeched, expression horrified. “Why do you look good? Nobody is supposed to look good with pink hair in real life!”
“Wow,” Namjoon said, dumbfounded. “I didn’t expect it to turn out so well. You’re lucky, hyung.”
Hoseok grabbed Yoongi’s shoulders and shook him. “Are you an anime character or what? It’s not fair!”
Yoongi pushed him off and scowled. “That’s what you get for trying to mess with me, brats. Just be glad it’s not too bad or you’d be in for another ass-kicking.”
He strode to the back room with an extra swagger to his step. If he stopped by a mirror to give his new hairstyle another assessing glance, nobody would ever know.
-
For all the compliments he got on his pink hair (even the kid calling him ahjusshi gave him a double thumbs-up when he saw it), Yoongi wasn’t a big fan of the color. It didn’t look horrible, but he had too many experiences with random people fawning over his apparent cuteness at random moments, for example when he was trying to buy a coffee or when shopping for groceries. There had been a terrifying incident with two giggling college girls following him for almost an hour, whispering behind their hands, before he managed to shake them off. Coming off as cute wasn’t all it was made out to be.
So Yoongi was glad when the color slowly washed out of his hair, making it return to the silvery blond tone Jeongguk had admired on him before. He let Jeongguk bleach over his roots when they started to grow out too far and even stopped wearing hats on most days because the color and style really were kind of nice. Jeongguk had good taste.
When Hoseok caught him taking a selca—hatless, smiling, and trying for the best angle—he gave Yoongi a weird look, but didn’t comment. And maybe it was warranted since Yoongi never took selcas, or if he did, they were scowling shots with half of his face hidden and the other half barely visible for bad lighting.
After that occasion, Hoseok seemed to watch him closely and started typing on his phone a lot more, but he never said anything. Yoongi was so used to sporadic behavior he didn’t even want to know about that he didn’t question it and just went about his life, merrily counting down the days to his next appointment with Jeongguk.
-
In hindsight, Yoongi could say that Hoseok’s strange behavior was actually the beginning of some conspiracy his best friends were cooking up. He found out about that when they abducted him to Namjoon’s apartment once again for a heavy night of drinking, a little more than a month after the selca incident. It was all planned out. They sat him down, plied him with alcohol while distracting him with funny anecdotes, and then it turned into an interrogation.
“Hyung,” Namjoon said, staring him down, a little bleary-eyed from alcohol himself by then. “When are you finally going to ask Jeongguk out?”
Yoongi froze. “Jeongguk?” he repeated, trying to buy time.
Hoseok glowered at him. “Jeongguk. The guy you’ve been pining after for months now.”
“I don’t pine!” Yoongi grumped, offended.
“But you want to ask him out!” Hoseok crowed triumphantly. “Just admit it!”
Namjoon nodded solemnly. “Even Seokjin-hyung and Jimin know you have a crush on Jeongguk by now.”
“What?” Yoongi yelped. If they knew, they might have told Jeongguk. Yoongi would never be able to leave his apartment again. Ever. It would be too mortifying.
“Don’t worry,” Namjoon replied, reaching over the couch table to pat his hand. “They won’t tell.”
Yoongi deflated bonelessly against the table in relief, almost knocking their soju stash over.
Exasperated, Hoseok poked him. “But you should really do something about it, hyung. Ask him out.”
With a pitiful noise, Yoongi swatted Hoseok’s hand away. He couldn’t ask Jeongguk out. He was a thirty-something guy who didn’t even own a car, just struggled by with his hip hop clothing store and wrote crappy rap lyrics in his downtime. He was lazy and boring and grumpy and sarcastic, not someone you wanted to spend extended time with. Jeongguk deserved much better than him, someone who could make him laugh and who could afford to spoil him, someone bright and cute and charming. Someone not Yoongi.
“Oh my God,” Hoseok’s voice said above him, sounding disgusted. “He’s pining.”
There was a sigh from Namjoon. “Hyung, I’m pretty sure Jeongguk would say yes in a heartbeat.”
Yoongi made a grunting sound that was both disbelieving and interested.
“He’s an attractive kid, he could probably have gotten himself a date with someone ages ago but for some reason he seems to be waiting on your sorry ass,” Namjoon explained patiently.
At that, Yoongi pulled himself upright again, squinting at Namjoon. “Are you saying he likes me?”
“God only knows why,” Namjoon muttered, reaching for his soju. “He friggin adores you. So can you please just end his suffering and ask him out already?”
Hoseok shoved the bottle at Yoongi. “His and our suffering.”
“How are you suffering?” Yoongi scoffed, pouring himself another shot, a lot more light-hearted than before.
“We have to pay for the alcohol,” Hoseok retorted sadly and, well, there was nothing Yoongi could say to that.
-
When Yoongi came back from a bathroom break, Namjoon and Hoseok were bent over one of their phones, whispering excitedly. At his entrance, they lifted their heads in unison and stared at him.
Yoongi stopped in his tracks. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Following Namjoon’s wild gestures, he sat back down suspiciously. “What?”
“Hyung,” Namjoon said in the most solemn tone he could manage in his drunken state. “We have a bet for you.”
Yoongi snorted and reached for his drink again. “Not doing it, dipishit.”
“But you haven’t even listened to us!” Hoseok complained.
“Last time you made me dye my hair pink. I’m not doing it.”
“That wasn’t even a punishment, it looked good on you,” Hoseok pouted at the same time as Namjoon declared, “This time it’s something totally different!”
Slowly taking another sip, Yoongi eyed the other two thoughtfully. What were they up to? “Alright. I’m not saying I’m going to bet, but what are you thinking of?”
Hoseok perked up at that and Namjoon cleared his throat importantly. “We bet you won’t be able to withstand Jeongguk’s aegyo.”
There was a beat of silence.
Yoongi was tempted to slam his head into the table. Was that what they came up with when he was gone for five minutes? They knew Yoongi was practically immune to any form of aegyo. And Jeongguk wasn’t even present. Were they that drunk already?
“What kind of bullshit bet is that?”
“It’s a scientific experiment,” Namjoon said cryptically.
Something about their smug faces should really have tipped Yoongi off, but at that point, alcohol was slowing down his thought process and making him reckless. So he just scoffed confidently at them and tossed back his cup of soju. “Alright, bring it. Sorry to inform you that Jeongguk isn’t here, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Oh, we know he isn’t,” Namjoon replied with a shit-eating grin, brandishing his phone again. “But Seokjin just sent us a very relevant video.”
At that point, a bit of Yoongi’s confidence waned, but he’d already agreed so he gestured for the phone. Namjoon passed it over eagerly and Hoseok leaned forward to intently peer at Yoongi’s face.
Yoongi pressed play.
On the tiny screen, Jeongguk was frowning at the camera. “What? Why do I have to do it?” he complained. Yoongi immediately recognized the answering giggle as Jimin’s. “It’s for science, Kookie,” Jimin crooned. Jeongguk’s scowl deepened. “Come one,” Jimin coaxed, “just once, for hyung. Because you love me and because I’ll buy you dinner after.” Jeongguk perked up at the mention of dinner. “Alright,” he agreed reluctantly. He glanced down for a second and then he looked back up at the camera with big, round eyes, puffing out his cheeks a little. “Hyuuuung,” he whined (and Yoongi could feel his ears heating up already), “I’m so hungryyy. Buy me food pleaseee!” Tilting his head like a lost puppy, he blinked at the camera with a shy smile. “Please, hyung?”
That was where the video cut off because Jimin couldn’t contain his adoring yells anymore, but it didn’t matter, because Yoongi was already burying his head in his arms, blushing a fire engine red and trembling with the urge to simultaneously smother Jeongguk in a bear hug and buy him all the food he asked for. His ears felt like they were on fire. Jeongguk was the most fucking adorable creature he’d ever seen in his entire life. The need to just give him everything he could ever want was overwhelming.
Yoongi was sure he’d start sobbing any minute to the continuous loop of Jeongguk’s hyuuuung playing in his brain, but Namjoon and Hoseok saved him from further embarrassment by laughing hysterically at his state, which quite effectively brought him back to earth. He wanted to curse at them, but he still felt a little numb after that intense experience.
“Oh my god,” Hoseok gasped, wiping away laughing tears. “That was pure gold. I wish we had filmed that.”
“Never thought I’d see the day,” Namjoon agreed, high-fiving Hoseok.
“Just shut up and tell me the punishment,” Yoongi groused at them, sulking into his soju.
-
“You want your hair green?” Jeongguk asked, voice and face carefully neutral.
Yoongi ignored Jimin’s cackles in the background and cleared his throat. “Mint green. Yeah.”
“…this is another lost bet, isn’t it?”
Yoongi tried to ignore the embarrassed flush to his cheeks. “Yeah.”
The mortification was worth it to see Jeongguk start laughing, his eyes shaped into cute crescents, his teeth on display and his nose scrunched up in amusement. “You should really stop betting, Yoongi-ssi!”
Grinning at Jeongguk’s laughing face, Yoongi shrugged. “Dunno. Gets you laughing, doesn’t it?”
Still huffing a little, Jeongguk found Yoongi’s eyes in the mirror. “I don’t think that’s a good exchange for green hair,” he said, shaking his head ruefully.
“I don’t know about that,” Yoongi wanted to say, but somehow Jeongguk’s smile gave him a warm boost of confidence, so before he could think too much about it, he turned his chair around to face Jeongguk, who took a step back in surprise. “Hey, listen. I might look awful after this, but do you maybe want to get a coffee with me sometime? As a date?” Yoongi got it all out without stuttering or choking on his heart beating somewhere in his throat, which had to be a small miracle.
Jeongguk looked shocked for a moment, but then he smiled a stunningly beautiful smile. “I’d like that.”
“Finally,” Seokjin groaned from the other side of the room, raising his arms to the heavens and effectively ruining the moment.
But Yoongi’s heart was bouncing around in his chest and his entire being felt light and floaty and ecstatic, so even that couldn’t keep the happy grin from spreading across his face. It got even broader when he noticed Jeongguk was staring at his mouth, dazed and a little flushed. So when Jimin crashed into their little bubble with a hug attack on Jeongguk, yelling “I told you so, Jeonggukie!” Yoongi just watched contentedly from his perch.
He would have to thank Namjoon later for pointing him to Butterfly Dream in the first place.
-
It was déjà-vu.
Namjoon and Hoseok were already lying in wait for him. As soon as he stepped foot into the store, they pounced and pulled his snapback off.
“No!” Hoseok wailed. “No no no no no! I hate you!”
Namjoon just stared, amazed. “How the fuck do you pull off green hair?”
Yoongi shrugged, smirking. “It’s a gift.”
They all turned as the door opened again, admitting the regular who liked to dole out fashion advice. Seeing them standing in the entrance, staring at him, he stopped short. But then he caught sight of Yoongi and beamed, bright and box-shaped. “Yo! Ahjusshi! Look, we match!” He pointed to his green-striped bangs, raising his hand for a high-five. “It’s all about the green, man!”
With a grin, Yoongi clapped their hands together.
“Okay,” Namjoon said. “That settles it. I’m doing pink next.”