Chapter Text
“Gerard.”
“Don’t ask.”
“What did,” Mikey stopped mid-sentence to let out a laugh that quickly evolved into a wheeze. “What the fuck did you do?”
“I said don’t ask,” Gerard huffed and rolled his eyes.
Gerard and Mikey stood in the small, windowless bathroom in the apartment they shared. It was fitted with outdated Pepto-pink tiles that were now splattered with blue dye. The brothers stared at each other in the mirror above the sink—Mikey’s poor attempt at hiding a grin a contrast to Gerard’s death glare.
Gerard sighed, resigned. “I tried to dye my hair blue.”
“Right. So, the teal roots?”
“I don’t fucking know, Mikey. Okay? You’re not helping so fuck off.”
Mikey combed through the hair at the crown of Gerard’s head with his fingers, making his older brother flinch and bat his hand away.
“Kristin’s friend works at a hair salon,” Mikey said. He pulled out his phone and texted Gerard a link to the salon’s Instagram account. “Make an appointment, dude.”
“I tried to do my hair at home so I didn’t have to go to a salon, dude.” Gerard mocked condescendingly.
“Well,” Mikey smirked. “We see how that worked out for you. Don’t tell me I didn’t try to help.”
Gerard huffed and Mikey turned on his heel to leave, muffling one last laugh with his hand.
Gerard stared in the mirror for another moment, defeated. Against his pride, he dialed the number of the salon Mikey referred him to.
The kind receptionist on the other end listened to Gerard’s woes about the current state of his hair and managed to book him an appointment for the next day.
“Alright, Mr. Way. I have you booked with Frankie at noon tomorrow. We’ll see you then!”
Gerard muttered a quick ‘thanks’ and heard a click on the other end of the line.
Frankie. That’s definitely a cool girl name, Gerard thought. Or, maybe Frankie is a guy. Gerard always avoided barber shops due to the macho-type men that typically worked there. Then again, a macho guy probably wouldn’t work in a regular hair salon, right? Gerard was overthinking this, as he did most things, so he told his brain to shut the fuck up and avoided every mirror in his apartment for the rest of the day.
***
Gerard arrived to the salon about 15 minutes early. He sat in his beat-up sedan, nursing a watered-down iced latte, and counting the bills in his wallet. He had friends who regularly got their hair professionally bleached and dyed so he knew this wouldn’t be cheap. He debated turning the car around and booking it out of there but he really didn’t want to be the kind of asshole to no-show or cancel last minute, especially since the recommendation came from a friend of his brother’s girlfriend.
Begrudgingly, he stuffed his wallet into his jeans, his favorite ratty black ones with the holes in the knees. A bell dinged above him as he entered the doorway and a pretty girl with long blonde waves called him over to the front desk. Gerard peeked at her name tag, which read Brittany. She looked like a Brittany, he thought.
“Welcome,” she greeted, glancing down at the screen in front of her. “You must be Gerard!”
“That’s me,” he said awkwardly. “Uh, I have an appointment with um, Frankie, I think.”
“Great! First time here, right?” Her eyes flickered to Gerard’s botched hair job.
“Mhm.”
“Well, we’re happy to have you,” She turned her chair to glance behind her at the empty stations, and then at the clock. “Frankie should be out here shortly. Probably just cleaning up tools in the back. Have a seat, Gerard.”
“Thank you, Miss.” Gerard replied politely and sat down.
Gerard’s eyes scanned over the magazine options on the coffee table in the waiting area. Cosmopolitan, Better Homes & Gardens, something with Oprah’s face on it. He decided to pickup the haircut look-book that appeared to have been published in the 1980s, based on the dramatic perms, hair teasing, and heavy layers gracing the pages. He was a child of the 80s, so the models reminded him of his mom and her friends, chain smoking and spreading gossip around their kitchen table.
Gerard was so engrossed in an entire page dedicated to mullets that he didn’t hear the footsteps approaching him.
“Ah, checking out the Patrick Swayze special, I see.”
“I was thinking more Bowie, actually,” Gerard countered, glancing up at the source of the voice. “Y’know—“
Gerard’s train of thought derailed and he was left sitting there, mouth agape, as he looked at the tattooed hand extended towards him.
“Hi! I’m Frankie. Or Frank, either works. You must be Gerard.” Frank smiled brightly, and god, did the guy have a million dollar smile. Perfect teeth, full lips, smile stretched wide enough to reach his eyes.
Gerard swallowed nervously and took an uncomfortably long amount of time to stand up and return Frank’s handshake.
“Um, yep! I mean—yeah, Gerard. That would be me.”
Gerard briefly thought about tossing his previous concerns about being a shitty client aside and bolting out the door. Maybe change his name. He couldn’t seem to remember his actual name anyway.
“Nice to meet you.” Gerard meekly extended his hand, performing a pathetic imitation of a handshake that his father would probably disown him for.
Frank returned the handshake much more firmly and beckoned Gerard to his station. Gerard sat down in the salon chair and Frank effortlessly draped a black cape over his shoulders, snapping it closed in the back. Gerard watched Frank in the mirror as he assessed the disaster that was Gerard’s hair.
Frank was objectively beautiful. He had warm, hazel eyes with perfectly arched eyebrows to complement them. He had a radiant smile, the kind you can’t help but return. He had a light tanned complexion with a patchwork of ink covering every visible surface of his skin. All types—traditional, portraits, some band logos and lyrics. He had perfectly styled hair, as expected. Dark brown, with short sides and more length on top. Gerard thought Frank looked like he belonged on a motorcycle. He wouldn’t hesitate to hop on, if Frank asked.
Frank planted both of his hands firmly on Gerard’s shoulders and they locked eyes in the mirror.
“So,” Frank spoke confidently. “Teal roots.”
“Teal roots.” Gerard deadpanned, making Frank giggle. A stupidly adorable stoner giggle that Gerard immediately wanted to hear again. Yeah, Gerard was not making it out of this appointment alive.
Frank carded his fingers gently over Gerard’s scalp, parting the hair occasionally as he mentally prepared follow up questions. Gerard shivered immediately at the contact and hoped Frank didn’t notice. His smirk suggested otherwise. Gerard glanced at the front door again. It still wasn’t too late to make a run for it.
“What was the goal?” Frank asked, not unkindly.
“Was I that far off my goal that you can’t even tell?” Gerard asked sheepishly, eliciting a beautiful laugh from Frank that even had Brittany turning around curiously in her chair.
“Gerard, I’m not even sure you were on the field, much less about to make a goal.”
“I never was good at sports,” Gerard quipped, but continued more seriously. “I was trying to dye my hair blue.”
Frank’s brows were furrowed as he examined the roots more closely. He quirked an eyebrow at Gerard in the mirror, as if to ask so how did we end up here?
“I don’t know what happened, to be honest,” Gerard sighed. “It was a reckless decision made at 2am while mildly intoxicated. Combined with some very expired developer and box dye. Not my best work.”
Frank nodded non-judgementally and continued carding his fingers through Gerard’s hair that he was suddenly thankful wasn’t greasy for once. Frank toyed with the scraggly ends of Gerard’s hair where it framed his face.
“Hm, so is everything below the teal black box dye?”
“Correct.”
“Okay.” Frank stated simply. He had dealt with many a box-dye disaster before and this was no different.
Frank continued to run his fingers through Gerard’s hair absentmindedly as they spoke and Gerard’s eyes nearly fluttered shut. Between Frank’s calm voice and his deft fingers, Gerard felt like he was being put under a spell.
“Alright, I have some ideas, but I’d like your input as color corrections can be quite the process.”
Gerard traced the outline of his wallet through his jeans as he spoke. “Yeah, um, I was hoping to not spend a ton of money on this, y’know. But uh—I still want it to look good I guess. So yeah, whatever you think.”
“Yeah, we can definitely cook something up here. I understand your natural color is brown, kind of similar to mine,” Frank reached up and touched his own hair for emphasis. “But, do you ever keep it that way or is black kind of your default color?”
“Default color. Never left my goth phase.”
Frank laughed, full of amusement. “Oh, believe me, I get it. My hair was black for like, the entirety of my 20s. My mom hated it. Said I already tortured her enough with my tattoos and pierc—“
“Piercings?” Gerard interrupted, his eyes sweeping over Frank’s body before Frank had even finished speaking. Now, why the fuck would he ask that? Piercings can be anywh— “Fuck, I’m sorry. That might have been inappropriate.”
Frank chuckled. “Nah, man. You’re good. All of ‘em were above the neck. Nothing too risqué,” Frank said, grinning. “Took them all out over the years. You can still see the holes though.” Frank touched his lip where the ghost of a lip ring was.
Gerard smiled, not really knowing where he planned to go with that interjection since he had nothing to contribute of his own accord. For fuck’s sake, Gerard, let the hot man do his job.
Frank met Gerard’s gaze again in the mirror and ruffled up his hair a little. “Alright, well the first thing I’d like to do is strip out this box dye. It’s frying your hair and if you plan to keep coloring your hair in the future, it’s only going to keep causing problems. It’s going to look worse before it looks better though, I want to warn you.”
The more Frank spoke, the more nervous Gerard started to get. It already sounded like he would need to come back for follow-up services. But God, he’d do almost anything to see Frank again. Including draining his already bleak savings account, apparently.
Frank must have sensed Gerard’s hesitancy, so he followed up with “Don’t worry though, I won’t ever let you walk out of here looking like a mess. That shouldn’t be too difficult though since you were already handsome when you walked in here.”
Gerard’s brain short-circuited. Frank had the audacity to wink before gathering the tools and products he would need with a methodical ease as if he hadn’t just declared he found Gerard attractive.
Great, now Gerard had to figure out if Frank was a naturally flirty person or if he actually meant it. He was working for tips, after all. He didn’t even know if Frank was single, or even into men. Shit.
As Frank worked, the pair fell into relatively easy conversation. Frank carried the conversation at first until Gerard felt more comfortable opening up, and eventually he was doing his usual yapping about music and comics. Gerard really enjoyed talking to Frank. He was a great listener and seemed genuinely interested in Gerard’s ramblings, or at least he was great at acting.
Eventually, it was time for Frank to rinse the products out of Gerard’s hair. Frank wrapped a towel around Gerard’s neck and guided him to lay back in the chair in front of the sink. Gerard sank down until his neck was resting on the sink bowl.
“Comfortable?” Frank asked.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
Gerard was not good. He was incredibly uncomfortable and knew he’d have a sore neck for at least three business days.
“Fantastic,” Frank replied, testing the water with his hand before using the nozzle to work the product off Gerard’s scalp. “How’s the water temperature, is it okay?”
“Yep, it’s fine!”
It was not fine. The water was freezing and Gerard had to clench his jaw to prevent his teeth from chattering.
Gerard tried to focus on the positives. A very attractive man straight out of his wet dreams was currently massaging his fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp with blunt nails and perfectly calloused fingers (Gerard learned Frank played guitar in his spare time! Guitar!). Frank worked the shampoo and conditioner through Gerard’s hair with care, completely unhurried as if he had all the time in the world to dedicate to this task. Gerard was melting under his touch as the act of rinsing essentially turned into a scalp massage. Okay, he could definitely get used to this.
Frank finished up at the sink and wrapped the towel around Gerard’s head. He guided him back to his chair and began to gently comb is fingers through Gerard’s hair to loosen any tangles before going in with a wide-tooth comb.
“So, were we thinking about a haircut today?”
“Uh, I dunno,” Gerard began, eloquently. “Maybe a trim? I’d like to keep the length I think.”
“Good. The length suits you.” Frank complimented, flashing a smile.
Gerard gave an awkward smile that hopefully conveyed thank you, I just don’t know how to accept compliments. Thankfully, before he was able to embarrass himself any further, Frank began snipping away.
Gerard got goosebumps when he felt Frank trimming the hair at the back of his neck. Frank’s fingers continually brushed against Gerard’s skin and ears as he worked and each touch made Gerard acutely aware of his own heartbeat. Just when Gerard thought he was in the clear, Frank stood in between his legs and leaned in, hovering above him. Their faces were level with one another as Frank trimmed the hair around Gerard’s jaw, ensuring it was even on both sides. Gerard stared pointedly at the hole below Frank’s lip that apparently used to hold a lip ring. Gerard imagined Frank sucking on it and toying with it with his tongue. He imagined what the metal would taste like, how it would feel against his lips…
Gerard snapped out of it when he noticed Frank’s lips had curled into a smirk. He swallowed nervously and tried to look past Frank into the mirror to see if he was as beet red as he felt. He daringly glanced up and locked eyes with Frank. God, his eyes were even prettier up close. Long, dark lashes and little crinkles at the corners of his eyes.
“Sorry,” Gerard coughed. “I—uh, just found the hole. I mean, fuck, that sounds wrong. The lip ring hole.”
Frank ducked his head to giggle and Gerard could now see his own reflection. Yep, beet red.
“All good, Gerard, you’re pretty funny, you know that?”
‘Funny’ was a generous term for whatever the fuck Gerard was doing right now but he had no other choice but to accept it.
“Gee.”
“Hm?” Frank asked, tilting his head.
“I mean Gee, as in Gerard. You can call me Gee. Everyone does. Sorry, should have said that.”
“Gee,” Frank said, testing the word on his tongue. “I like it.”
Frank stood up then, circling back behind Gerard and admiring his work in the mirror. Before any further small talk was able to commence, Frank turned on the hair dryer which drowned out any chance of conversation. Gerard thanked his lucky stars.
“Alright!” Frank announced ten minutes later, spinning the chair so Gerard was facing the mirror directly. He had a huge smile on his face that Gerard couldn’t help but match. “Here’s where we’re at for today.”
Gerard scooted closer to the mirror, turning his head left and right to see his hair from all angles. Frank held up a mirror so Gerard could see the back as well. His hair was now a flat, grayish-blonde color.
“I know it’s maybe not what you imagined you’d walk out of here with, but I promise, trust the process.”
Gerard would. He’d trust Frank if he looked in the mirror and saw he was completely bald. Frank would know what was best.
“Before we can go in with the blue, I needed to remove the black dye and even everything out so we could have a flat, uniform base color to work with. I toned your hair too, to remove the brassiness. When the hair is more yellow than white blonde, and you put a color like blue on top of it, it can turn green-ish. Hence, the teal.”
“Frankie, it’s perfect.” Gerard beamed.
Frank returned his grin and unsnapped the cape from Gerard’s shoulders. “I’m glad you like it! Like I said, work in progress. Next time we can go in with the color, but I’d like to give your hair a rest for a week or two. It’s not too damaged and the trim helped too, but it can’t hurt and I figured you’re probably sick of me after these past couple of hours.”
Gerard was not sick of Frank. At all.
Gerard waved a hand dismissively. “No way. I had a blast! I owe my brother, or well, his girlfriend for recommending this place. Seriously, it’s great. Thank you.”
“My pleasure. You can pay and book the follow-up with Brittany up front,” Frank handed Gerard a business card with writing on the back. “I wrote down some maintenance instructions for you. There’s a great toning shampoo Brittany can show you that I recommend picking up. My number’s on the front too, if you need anything.”
Frank smiled and fist-bumped Gerard. It definitely did not go unnoticed by Gerard that they had moved from handshake to fist-bump territory in the span of a few hours. And now he had Frank’s number too. Sure, it was printed on a professional business card, but just let him have this, okay.
“Bring some inspiration pics when you come back, so I have an idea of what shade of blue you’re going for. I’d avoid pastel for now though or we’ll have to bleach your again. I’ll see you soon, Gee!”
“Yeah! Soon—I’ll see you soon!”
Frank walked to the back room, presumably to clean up his tools for the next client as he had been doing when Gerard arrived. Gerard greeted Brittany again and she complimented his hair. “Frankie’s great, isn’t he?”
Gerard agreed. “Absolutely.”
Brittany booked Gerard for another appointment two weeks away and grabbed the bottle of shampoo that Frank recommended. She punched in a few numbers, her long nails clacking against the keyboard rhythmically.
“Alright, that will be $225 for the service today, plus $18 for the shampoo. If you’d like to tip, you can either do that up here, or leave cash for him, totally up to you. How will you be paying today?”
Gerard nearly choked when he heard the price. His eyes bugged out and he was grateful Frank wasn’t around to see the five stages of grief that surely flashed across his face in the ten seconds it took to gather himself and retrieve his cash and credit card. He politely asked Brittany for a post-it note and left Frank’s tip at his station along with a note: Thanks again! - Gerard Gee.
Gerard left the salon $243 poorer with an another appointment to see a gorgeous, tattooed man on his calendar.