Basically this fic wasn't my original idea. I saw a post with this prompt: "Someone please write me a fic where Thranduil and Lucius Malfoy run a hair salon together and instead of doing any actual work they bitch about their customers and interfere in their sons love lives"
And I simply HAD to write it. So all credit for the idea goes to tumblr user thetrueliesofafangirl

The hair salon was well known around the city, mostly famous due to the extremely high amount of female (and extensively male) clientele. A high percentage of this clientele (the 'prouder' percentage, I'd like to add) will claim at their reason for constantly visiting this particular hair salon is for the extreme quality of the outcome of their visit. Those who are not in denial of the fact, however, will express- with only a hint of shame- that their favourite reason for visiting the salon is for the two disturbingly attractive men who run it.

Thranduil Greenleaf and Lucius Malfoy were both utterly indecipherable amongst the male race. Long, blonde hair and sharp, handsome features graced the two, yet they were rather infamous due to their openly sharp tongues. Having both come from high-class families, a reluctance to communicate with those in the lower classes would seem almost obvious, but it also seems more obvious that they would overtly speak their mind towards those who opposed them.
Both very calm in their demeanour, they would happily take on the riff-raff who chose to come to their salon to disturb their customers.

The two men were also widely know for their tendency to, erm, 'grouse', for the better word of it, about the customers they were not fans of. You were very lucky if you went to the salon at the end of the day, because you would get the absolute best rants referring to another customer.
Obviously, the two men respected their clients' privacy, and never named anyone. It was their wives who would get the best of that.

The two salon owners' wives were, it could be said, resented by many. As you can guess, it wasn't just because of their marriage to the two men, but also because of their almost surreal beauty.
Both Narcissa Malfoy and Elerrian Greenleaf were both famous in their own right. Narcissa was one of the best and most ruthless divorce lawyers in the city, known for winning nearly every single case she took on.
Elerrian was a French artist, an immigrant who managed to make a living from painting people on the streets, before she caught Thranduil's eye.

However, the two men's families do not stop there.
Mental denial? Hoping I mean a dog? A Cat?
No, of course these two devastatingly attractive couples, both with equal wealth and fame, have to have handsome sons to boot.

Legolas Greenleaf was, there is no better word for it, an angel. Every teacher claimed he was perfect, never said a bad word against anyone unless it was necessary, not to mention he would often go out of his way to help those in need.
Draco Malfoy, the younger of the two, was quite the opposite. Cunning, sarcastic, judgemental, yet ever the charmer, it's true to say he wasn't popular with many. Yet, being a model, and a famous one at that, he was always very good at getting what he wanted, especially when it came to the bedroom.

Now, you may feel that families like these would get along almost perfectly, but you would be wrong.
So, very wrong.

A bell tinkled as the boy walked through the doors into the salon. He immediately noticed Thranduil, who nodded curtly over the head of an elderly lady with a perm. "You're looking for your father, I assume?" A hint of exasperation laced the man's voice.

"Of course. Is he here?"
"In the back. He's checking stock."

The boy did not thank him. Not that Thranduil expected the 18 year old to, the arrogant child. He watched as his co-worker's son made his way into the back room, absent-mindedly running a hand through his hair and winking at the receptionist, making her blush.

Lucius was slowly pacing the room, sighing as he wrote the numbers down on the clipboarded sheet of paper, noticing as his son walks into the room but deciding against telling him.
"Father. Father." A long pause followed.
Oh, good. He stopped.
"You're ignoring me again, aren't you?"
Dammit.
"Trying to. What do you want, Draco?"
"I need something."
"It's not a pony, is it?"
"Bugger off, don't treat me like a spoilt child."
Lucius held in his silent amusement, opting against replying. Narcissa would kill him if the boy tried to leave home again.
"Father, you didn't answer."
"I'm fully aware of that, Draco. Now, what is it you need?"
"Money"
"What a surprise," Lucius refrained from rolling his eyes. He knew being a model wouldn't bring the money in like the boy said it would.
"Don't act like that, at least I asked nicely."
"Did you now. Well, would you like to tell me what you need this money for?"
"Personal reasons."
Lucius once again raised his eyebrows. 'Personal reasons was never good when it came to his son. He was willing to help Draco out, but only when it suited him. He turned back to the younger blonde.

"Okay, Draco, I'll give you the money, but only if you can answer this question correctly." Draco frowned but his eyes lit up at the concept of getting his way.

"Did you or did you not attempt to flirt with our receptionist again?"
Draco opened his mouth, but it held slightly agape.
"E-erm... No?"
As if planned, much to Draco's dismay, Thranduil chose to make his way into the storeroom, picking up a box of hair colour solution. "Don't listen to him, Lucius. Jessica's be blushing bright red for the past ten minutes since your boy winked at her."

Draco glared daggers at the older man, only getting a smug smirk in reply as Thranduil walked out again.
The teenager turned back to his father, cheeks slightly flushed in frustration, and pouted.
"You're not giving me the money, are you?"
"Fluster her again and I'll tell your mother. And Jessica's 6 foot 3 body builder boyfriend, for that matter."

Groaning in frustration, Draco made his way out of the room, turning to look at his father once more before he left.
"The money was for a date, just so you know."

Before Lucius could look up to make a sarcastic comment aimed at the boy's sexuality, he was gone. Sighing and rolling his eyes, he wondered where he had gone wrong, and whether Thranduil had these sorts of frustrating conversations with his son.

Probably not.