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Seokmin touches his hair for probably the hundredth time in the past hour. He has checked out his reflection on every mirror he owns, and every time the red dye coloring his hair strands feeds into this feeling of self-consciousness he’s felt since the visit to the salon. Is it too red? Too orange-y? Is this a mistake?
The hairdresser didn’t think so. The colorist and hairstylist, a man in his forties sporting a hair in five different shades of purple, had eloquently said very flattery words as he ran two hands through Seokmin’s freshly colored, blow-dried hair. “I’m telling you, you so rock the ‘ginger’ look, pretty boy. Hm! Too handsome.”
And Seokmin did believe him. He felt confident. At least until he stepped outside the salon and into the crowd of people in Hongdae’s busy street. Many people gave him strange looks (strange to Seokmin) as he passed by them, and Seokmin’s not used to having random strangers’ attention on him. But why? It’s not like his new hair is some crazy color, right? It’s just red. Orange-y red. Ginger, as the hairdresser put it. What’s with some passersby not so subtly flashing him curious looks? He even caught a few girls in high school uniform giggled as he felt them stealing glances at him as they waited for the crosswalk light to turn green.
(Seokmin decidedly took out the cap he wore earlier before the hair transformation and put it on the rest of his way home)
“It’s just,” Seokmin sighs into his phone; Jeonghan and Seungkwan are both on the other ends of the line. “It’s been years since I dyed my hair ever, and..,” he fidgets with his hair in front of the standing floor mirror in the living room. “Maybe I should’ve done, like, brown.”
“Seokminnie what are you talking about? The selfies you sent us were so cute! You’re gorgeous in red,” Jeonghan says assuringly. His tone is gentle, like he knows Seokmin is mildly stressed out over the new hair. And Seokmin doesn’t know why, but at this moment the reflection he sees in the mirror makes him feel like he’s not as attractive as when he had his dark hair. Perhaps it’s his skin tone. He’s got slightly darker complexion than his friends; his skin is never near milky white as Jeonghan or Jihoon. Doesn’t red hair suit lighter skin better?
“Hyung, please,” Seungkwan is less gentle, huffing but he’s complimenting him nevertheless, “I don’t believe you don’t know how good looking you are. Whatever color your hair may be.”
Seokmin feels warmth spreading in his chest. He’s so lucky to have these two as his besties. The fuzzy feeling translates to a small smile that starts to form on his lips, and it’s weird, because the reflection he’s staring at now looks just a little less.. worrying. He’s about to say a word of gratitude and wrap up their phone call so they all can get ready for Chan’s birthday party this evening, but Jeonghan and Seungkwan speak at the same time.
“What did Mingyu say?”
“You show the new look to Mingyu hyung yet?”
Their voices overlapped but somehow Seokmin could hear both questions as clear as day. Oh. Maybe this is why he’s felt so self-conscious over his new hair. He hasn’t told his boyfriend! Not yet; this was supposed to be a surprise. Kind of. Not that Seokmin chose to color his hair for Mingyu. He had wanted this for himself, of course. Surprising Mingyu is just a nice little bonus, except now Seokmin’s not sure if Mingyu would actually like the new hair.. what if he prefers black hair, much darker shade more? Mingyu himself wears his black hair most his life; the dark hair only emphasizes how devastatingly handsome, unfairly attractive the man looks.
Seokmin groans inwardly. He can’t help feeling worried again when he really shouldn’t. “Um, he doesn’t know.. yet.” And he’ll find out when he gets home from his part-time job at the university gym which is in about.. Seokmin can’t believe the time. When did it get past six already?
“I’m positive he’ll like it, the new hair,” Jeonghan’s voice gathers Seokmin’s attention back on the phone.
“Like it?” Seungkwan chirps in, and Seokmin notes the knowing giggle behind his voice as he continues, “You’re going to blow Mingyu hyung’s mind, hyung.”
Seokmin’s not sure about whatever Seungkwan meant by that, but he doesn’t get the chance to demand clarification when he hears beeping from the front door to his and Mingyu’s shared apartment. Oh no, he’s not ready. He’s fussed over his new hair so much that he should’ve run a brush through it and perhaps restyled it before Mingyu’s home.
Hurriedly, and just as the door swings open from the outside, Seokmin ends his call with, “Gotta go. See you at the party!”
(Heavy Black Heart ≊ Red Heart)
The phone call disconnects and Seokmin struggles to look directly at Mingyu as he pretends to appear composed, greeting his boyfriend with a show of tentative fingers fixing his bangs, smoothing the ends that fall just right above his eyebrows.
“S-surprise! I dyed my hair,” Seokmin says as cheerfully as he can despite the nerve. Why is he suddenly nervous; it’s not like he’s looking for an approval from his boyfriend when this is his own hair. Right, whatever Mingyu’s opinion on his orange-y red hair doesn’t matter. Shouldn’t.
But then he dares to glance up and actually takes a second to read Mingyu’s expression, and it.. certainly isn’t what he thought he was going to see. But to be fair, Seokmin thought nothing. He didn’t think the expression Mingyu’s wearing upon seeing Seokmin’s new, orange-red hair would make him feel butterflies in his stomach. He can feel his ears tingling with heat, his cheeks getting warmer and warmer. Mingyu’s still staring, his gaze dark, his lips parted.
“You..,” Mingyu clears his throat, finally breaks out of his trance and takes a slow step towards Seokmin. “You dyed it red,” he continues, never once does he tear his sharp gaze off of him as he closes their distance. “Ginger.”
The hairdresser also used the word ‘ginger’, but when it rolls off Mingyu’s tongue and in his slightly raspy, low voice, it sounds a hundred times better. He kinda wants to hear it again.
Mingyu’s only within a few feet now, and Seokmin opens his mouth to ask how he looks in his new, ginger, hair, but he barely lets out a syllable when Mingyu’s hand cups the side of his neck expertly and pulls him into a crushing kiss. A possessive arm wraps around his back and waist, gripping Seokmin hard as Mingyu’s aggressive mouth demands an opening, which Seokmin grants almost immediately. Mingyu’s kisses are always intense, always passionate, always so.. good. The way he sucks on his tongue, tangling it with his own, letting him taste the mint from the gum he probably chewed on the way home. The way his fingers stroke his hair, dragging his blunt nails in his scalps, across the hot skin of his neck. Mingyu’s touches send shivers down Seokmin’s spine every time.
It leaves him breathless.
When they break for air, it is for Mingyu to go for Seokmin’s neck. It’s not unexpected, but also Seokmin wonders what’s gotten Mingyu so fired up for a full on making out session. His thought gets interrupted though, as he feels the hot-and-wet sensation of Mingyu’s mouth on sensitive skin, a scrape of teeth making him the most dizzy.
Oh no. They have a party to attend in a few hours. Seokmin struggles as he tries to slow Mingyu down. It’s when Mingyu drags hot lips up his jaw and licks his earlobe does Seokmin finally reaches a hand to fist his shoulder-length hair and pull (yank) him back. Unfortunately for Mingyu, Seokmin is known to have quite a strong grip on people’s hair.
“Ouch, can’t you be gentle,” is his whine, to which Seokmin quickly apologizes. Although, not without chiding the taller on how he could be more gentle himself.
“Chan’s birthday party is in less than two hours,” Seokmin tries to grumble, but they’re back to staring at each other and Mingyu’s looking at him like he’s.. entranced by him. How can he scold his boyfriend when his eyes, half-lidded and starry, are gazing at him like that.
“So?” Mingyu replies, raising a hand to stroke Seokmin’s hair ever so gently.
Seokmin’s blushing returns like it never goes away, but he manages to huff, “So, you don’t get to leave marks or bruises on my neck, you silly.”
“Just wear a turtleneck,” Mingyu offers an unoriginal suggestion, one that Seokmin has heard many times. He sighs as Mingyu switches to twirling a strand of his hair. His eyes are not on Seokmin’s now that he’s actually taking a good, close look at the new hair.
For a second Seokmin feels self-conscious about his hair again, but it’s quickly replaced by warm, even more fuzzy feelings than when he talked with Jeonghan and Seungkwan, as he remembers quite vividly how Mingyu had reacted so positively, so.. eagerly. It makes him feel good. Feel attractive.
“You make such a pretty ginger, Seokmin-ah. The prettiest in my eyes,” Mingyu answers his unspoken question softly. Their eyes meet again and Seokmin feels his heart rate quickens. His words sound so sincere. Mingyu leans down to capture his lips, but the kiss is chaste this time. “So.. fucking.. beautiful.” He kisses the corner of his mouth, the moles on his left cheek, and on his temple for each word.
Seokmin’s sure his face is going to stay pink and hot if Mingyu doesn’t stop showering him with kisses and compliments. But who’s he to say no to such tender reassurance? That someone likes him. Likes this hair.
“So it’s not bad?”
“Of course not,” Mingyu runs a hand through his hair slowly, and Seokmin closes his eyes momentarily in pleasure. He decides he likes his hair touched like that. Especially by Mingyu. “It suits you perfectly,” he says sweetly.
Seokmin mumbles a thank you against Mingyu’s neck as he is pulled into an embrace, feeling all the butterflies and the fuzziness of being in Mingyu’s arms, being held so affectionately.
Why was Seokmin so worried over a new hair, he doesn’t know.
(Heavy Black Heart ≊ Red Heart)
(Epilogue..ish)
They make out again, on the couch this time, and Seokmin thinks he deserves a medal for being able to stop things from going more than innocent touchings under layers of clothings. Mingyu’s not too happy but Seokmin quite literally smacks some sense [to his head] as he points out the fact that they have to leave in forty minutes if they want to make it to the party on time. Plus Mingyu still needs to shower from a full day of going to multiple classes and working at the gym.
“Are you sure you don’t wanna join me in the showers?”
Seokmin chuckles in between brushing his teeth. He spits before he shouts over running water. “I’m sure. Don’t wanna wash off the red that you like so much.”
Mingyu laughs. Then he shouts back just as Seokmin wipes a towel over his mouth, “Yah, I only like red hair if it’s on you.”
Seokmin watches the reflection of his pink face on the mirror and sighs. Mingyu is a confident flirt and a smooth talker and it seems like Seokmin still hasn’t gotten used to it. Whatever. He’s still not going in the showers with him. He’s serious. It would be ashamed if the red dye washes off too soon. Seokmin’s liking the color so much now that he’d be disappointed. Mingyu would be disappointed. Wouldn’t he?
“Seokmin-ah?” Mingyu calls again from the showers. Seokmin decides he should probably put away the dishes while he waits for Mingyu. Yep, he needs not to be in the bathroom anymore.
“Seokmin-ah? I said I only like red hair when it’s on you. Just on your pretty little—”
Seokmin closes the bathroom door with the widest smile.