Written for a friend. Also apparently I ship this now.


"Kevin," Sam whined as he was pushed down into a straight backed chair. "You're being ridiculous."

"It needs to go, Sam," Kevin said evenly. That was something new about him, the evenness of his tone.

In Sam's memory Kevin Tran was a wide-eyed hysterical teenager who was constantly on the edge of a mental breakdown, but no longer. This new Kevin had been hardened by a year of hiding from the Leviathans, by watching his mother die, by living in a hovel doing nothing but learning to hunt and building weapons with his own hands. He was no longer Kevin Tran from advanced placement, he was now Kevin Tran: The Prophet of the Lord.

Sam liked the new Kevin.

He liked him a lot less, however, when he had a pair of shears in his hands and was looking at Sam's hair with a critical eye.

"I like my hair," Sam insisted. "Just because you felt the need to butcher your mane doesn't mean I do."

"My mane?" Kevin asked, amusement in his voice. "Sam, you're going to be hunting. This is going to get in the way. It's inefficient."

Well, that was part of it. Dean had also offered to let Kevin drive the Impala if he could force Sam into a haircut, but Sam didn't need to know that bit.

"I'll put it in a ponytail."

"You'll do no such thing," Kevin said. He grabbed Sam's shoulders and pulled him back sharply so he was sitting up straight. Voice lowered to a growl, he bent down close to speak in Sam's ear.

"Now sit still and behave, or I might accidentally cut you."

Sam swallowed hard but obediently stilled himself. When Kevin's hands started feeling their way through his hair, it became harder to protest. Sam was a very tactile person, always had been. Part of the motivation for keeping his hair so long was that it encouraged people to touch it affectionately, and if it also gave them something to hold onto in more intimate moments, well, that was an added bonus. As Kevin dragged his hands slowly through Sam's shoulder-length locks, Sam was inclined to count this moment as intimate. His eyes slid closed as he enjoyed the slow drag of fingers against his scalp, and the light tug of hair being pulled back and examined for length. The tension slowly drifted from his shoulders and he couldn't remember why this had ever been a bad idea to begin with.

Then there was the sound: the crisp snip of scissors being tested on the open air, and Sam's stomach dropped.

"Are we really doing this?" Sam asked, the whine returning to his voice. Kevin smiled and smoothed Sam's hair back from his face soothingly.

"Do you trust me?" Sam nodded grimly. "Okay, close your eyes. It will be over soon."

The shears made their first cut into his hair, and Sam winced. When Kevin commented on the fact his hair was going to come out uneven if he kept doing that, he concentrated harder on staying still. Every snip seemed louder and more damning than the last, and as the familiar weight fell from Sam's head he thought he might actually cry at the loss.

Then Kevin's hands were there again, brushing stray hairs off Sam's neck, measuring the evenness of the cut through his fingers, and perhaps running his hands along Sam's scalp just a bit more than the task required in an effort to comfort him. A few more snips for symmetry – Sam flinched every time at this stage, but Kevin seemed able to compensate – and it was over.

"You were an excellent patient," Kevin said as he gave Sam's shoulders an affectionate squeeze. "Do you want to see it?"

Begrudgingly, Sam nodded, and a mirror was enthusiastically shoved into his hands. He couldn't help but nod a bit at his reflection. Kevin had done a good job. His hair wasn't military short by any means, but it was off his neck and out of his eyes. It reminded Sam of the haircut he'd gotten right before college – which in turn reminded Sam it had taken him the better part of a decade to grow it out. It took everything he had to suppress a groan at the thought.

"Almost painless," Sam said with a small smile, and that was the closest thing he was getting to approval, so Kevin would take it. He bent down close to Sam's face and ran his fingers back through his bangs again.

"Just checking the length one more time," he explained quietly. "Have to make sure we've got you at your prettiest."

Sam chuckled and brought his hands up to go through Kevin's hair in return.

"Sorry about the butchering crack. I like your haircut. And mine."

"Well, thank you," Kevin replied with a smile before Sam pulled him down for a kiss, planning to show him just how much he appreciated his barber.