AN: Hairstylist!AU deserves more fics and so does KibaNeji pair!
- for the purposes of this fic the boys are close to 30, but not quite there yet;
- Kiba looks more like himself from Boruto because mid-length hair with a beard is just hot.
SUMMARY: Neji's hair is too long and Naruto drags him to a hair salon, where he gets more than a haircut. OR Kiba is a hairstylist and Neji wants to marry his hands. | KibaNeji |Hairstylist!AU
The way to a man's heart is through his—hair
"It's even worse than that time I tried to make you go on a date." Little clouds escaped Naruto's lips as he huffed, tugging Neji by the hand through snowy streets.
"Yes, so much worse." Neji agreed, still struggling to break free without slipping on sleet under his boots. "This time you actually got me out of the house" Persistent idiot of a friend.
"I still can't believe you stood him up! The guy was so nice, too, waiting for a jerk like you for two hours!"
"Not my fault as I never agreed to it. Would you let go of me already?"
"Not a chance" Naruto growled back and tugged with twice the strength as before, as if a second wave of power shot through his veins. Neji wished he didn't skip on his workout for the last month.
They wrestled for two more blocks and suddenly Naruto stopped near a store entrance, without ever letting go of his hand, and grinned maniacally. Neji's eyes followed the direction of his gaze and widened at the sight of giant scissors beside a glowing red sign saying 'Twin Fang'.
"Over my dead body!" he all but screamed and begun struggling more fiercely than before.
"He is the best one in the whole damn town!" shouted Naruto while forcibly pushing him through the doors of the hair salon.
Panic overtook his body, how did Naruto manage to get him this far? Though, that didn't matter. Neji firmly placed both of his palms on the opposite sides of the doorframe, ignoring the frostbite it was obviously giving him—there was no freaking way he was going inside. "I'm sure he is! That's not the point!"
Unfortunately, with one more very skillfully timed shove in the back he found himself all but falling through the door, warm air instantly setting his cold cheeks aflame.
Everything looked quite cozy inside, actually: simple mirrors, wall decorations depicting wolves and dogs of different breeds, and soft music filled the space with relaxing sounds. Though Neji was far from relaxed, eyes transfixed on a man's (probably the hairstylist) hand caught mid-air holding cold sharp scissors over some poor lad's head.
Neji wanted to flee.
Naruto stumbled behind, pushing deeper inside and effectively blocking the exit with his whole body, then greeted the man with scissors:
"Kiba! I got a walk-in for ya!"
"I am just finishing up here," Neji heard a smile in the voice but didn't move his eyes from the sharp object to see. "Will be done in 10 min. Mirai, help them out."
A young woman, maybe still a teen, came out from the back of the room, drying her hands with a towel, gesturing for both Naruto and Neji to dispose of their coats. He didn't want to sit down, didn't want to be here at all but the next time he opened his mouth to complain about the whole thing Naruto stopped him mid-word:
"I swear to everything good in this fucking world, Neji. If you don't go through with it now, I will shave your whole head bare. In. Your. Bloody sleep!"
He didn't have to shout this loud—So what if his hair grew long? It wasn't at all too bad. Neji really didn't see a problem but then remembered the blond coming over to his house to work on a project and screaming 'They are everywhere, Neji! Fucking everywhere!' It wasn't like his hair were falling off, it was the normal amount that every single person loses in a day, but just because they were this long, it looked like a lot. Naruto really needn't to make such a big deal out of this.
As they sat on a couch by the window with mugs of hot chocolate that was kindly offered by Mirai, Neji plotted different ways of escape, or at least an excuse to get out of the whole ordeal. He was also wondering if it was frown upon to kill one's friend and colleague for forcing him to come to a hair salon. Surely not in this town, right?
"Hi, I'm Kiba and you're my next client, I guess?"
Pulled out of his thoughts by the hairstylist's voice, Neji promptly disposed of the cup and stood up from the couch. The man was about his height with sharp dark eyes and mid-length brown hair that were neatly brushed back. He sported a handsome goatee but the most impressive feature was two matching red fang tattoos on both cheeks – perhaps the name of the place was somehow related to that.
Neji took the stretched out hand, noticing how pale his was in comparison, and quickly introduced himself. It was a warm and firm handshake that spoke of confidence, kindness, and skill. For a moment, Neji forgot about all his plans to flee (somehow, being in the company of this man didn't sound like such a bad idea at all) but then his gaze moved past the hands and stopped on the apron, to which at least three different kinds of scissors were attached.
"I'm sorry, this is a mistake. I'm out of here" he blurted out and turned around swiftly, letting go of the hand and trying to squeeze between the coach and coffee table to the coatrack. On the background he could hear Naruto cursing, which wasn't helping at all. Didn't he realize that?
"Naruto, out. Now"
He could swear the man growled at his friend, who, surprisingly, immediately grabbed his coat and left without another word. Then, that warm voice addressed him again "Neji, please wait"
Somehow, without Naruto here it was easier to breathe. Neji watched the man come closer and clasp both of his hands at once.
"I will do it slowly, you can stop me and leave at any time, ok? If you let me do this, I promise, I will make it worthwhile"
Caught in place by those kind eyes and warmth spreading to his fingertips, Neji could only nod in response.
He was guided towards one of the chairs and with every step Neji wanted to take at least seven back but the hand on his lower back was a reassuring weight and he was soon standing right in front of it. He expected to be sat down immediately and could already hear scissors chopping behind his back, but instead Kiba smiled at him and reached up to undo the bun on his head.
"Let's see what we have here" Instinctively, Neji's hands flew up but were stopped mid-air "You're in my care now, just trust me" for some reason, he did and let both hands drop.
He didn't trust the guy completely, of course, a person who operated with scissors on daily basis could never ever be fully trusted in his opinion, but the gentleness in the voice was so apparent that Neji decided to allow this simple thing. It was also strangely comforting to stand within this man's personal space: all sounds faded away to unrecognizable background noise; there were faint but alluring scents in the air, soothing, though he couldn't quite grasp what they were. Man's eyes were transfixed just above his head, giving Neji a perfect opportunity to study his face. It was all sharp defined lines with a few barely noticeable crinkles around eyes – the man probably loved to laugh wholeheartedly. He was—attractive.
Far too quickly the hair tie was undone and he winced as the follicles tingled from being tied up for too long.
His dark hair fell down in tangled and partially wet heaps around his face down the back, past the waist, all the way to his thighs. Kiba asked him to turn around to face the mirror and Neji complied. Blush dusted his cheeks when the man brushed through the locks with his fingers to straighten them out; the previous thought refused to leave his head.
Suddenly, Neji felt bare.
Not many people ever touched or even seen him with his hair down, for that matter. It was from embarrassment at first – there weren't that many boys with long hair in his school. Then, it was more of an inconvenience – they kept getting into his eyes or get stuck in a zipper of his coat. Later, it was more of a habit. Even with lovers he made sure to gather it safely in a bun or a braid, worrying that it would get in a way or tickle his partner. Though, every now and then, when brushing his hair before going to sleep, he wondered what would it be like to let them loose in such intimate moments.
Kiba locked gaze with him through the mirror and smiled that warm smile again that made Neji feel warm inside.
"What do you want?" Many things at that moment, actually but nothing that even remotely related to his hair. Ok, maybe a couple did, but none that could be voiced out loud. He let a shallow breath out.
"Naruto said I need to cut it." As he talked, the man grabbed a simple brush and begun softly untangling dark strands—from the ends up—occasionally looking back at him through the mirror "because they are too long and get in the way."
The movements were so gentle that Neji barely felt anything aside from the man's knuckles brushing his spine, which was soothing.
"What do you want, Neji?" The man repeated the question, making sure to emphasize his name "Not Naruto or anyone else. This is your hair, your choice"
No one really asked him that before. He never truly thought about it himself either.
"Well, they have been getting in the way," admitted he. "But I don't think I want them all gone. I kind of got used to them being long and wouldn't it be weird to suddenly go to short hair?"
"Agree. When was the last time you got a haircut?"
"Does it matter?" he really didn't like when people asked him that.
"Not really," thankfully, the stylist didn't pry further. "Let's get this cape over you"
Neji could only stand there and watch his body disappear under the cloth, leaving only his head and hair out. Then he sat down in that same chair that scared him before but found it very comfortable, which allowed his shoulders to release some tension. Kiba didn't talk while bringing the chair up as far as it could possibly go, probably because the hair were too long—the thought was embarrassing and Neji found himself tensing up again but then the stylist clicked some button that almost drew a purr out of him. It was a heated chair and Neji all but melted into it.
At the back of his mind sirens flashed, warning him that all these little details like soft music, cute dog art pieces, and heated chairs were all part of a trap masterfully set up by an evil scissor-man behind his back—but he ignored it all.
He was too comfortable to move by then.
When the man took a bottle from the desk in front of him, Neji noticed just how many of them were up there. To his question, Kiba said that those were treatment oils and promised to name them in order of use. It was implied that he was planning to use several.
First was a scalp treatment oil that had palm oil as base. Neji almost moaned as Kiba run the pads of strong fingers and whole palms through his scalp from the front of the head to the back of the neck. Then repeated the motion for a few minutes at least—enough for him to roll eyes back and surrender completely to the comfort of the heated chair.
Second, a creamy mask was painted onto hair using a brush as another revitalizing treatment—all the way from the lower ends to the roots. It amazed him just how careful Kiba was while holding his hair. Not once did he feel a single tug.
Another fragrant oil that smelled different than the first two was applied on top of that, followed by another intense all-over head massage that made his toes curl. The massage might have lasted only a few minutes but it felt like half an hour at least. Kiba's careful movements along the meridians of his scalp made Neji feel like he was being sent to heaven. And what a fantastic way to go it was... He began to lose track of all the steps, even though Kiba, true to his word, continued talking through each and every one of them with that soft deep voice of his. Neji drifted off to an almost sleep at some point, lulled by all the gentle touches.
Kiba wrapped a cotton headband around his head and stuck him under a heat lamp for several minutes. It was the best sleep Neji got in years, even though it lasted no more than ten minutes... He woke up to the sounds of running water.
As if it was a delicate cashmere garment, the stylist lovingly and gently washed his head, and Neji relished the attention. Not once in his life he washed hair this way, as if it was the most important thing to do in the entire world. He was so used to being done with the shower in under ten minutes that didn't leave much to washing the hair, only because it took him more than twenty to blow-dry them afterwards. Not once did he consider to soak the locks, take time applying shampoo and conditioner, before rinsing them for what felt like ages.
"When was the last time you had a haircut?" Kiba repeated the uncomfortable question again but somehow Neji didn't give a damn anymore.
"Five"
The man blinked. "Five—months ago?" Neji shook his head. "—years?" he laughed and shook his head again; it was actually amusing.
"No, I was five. And it was a terrifying experience" All movement stopped but then continued, intensified.
"I'm honoured"
Once again, Kiba ran pads of the fingers and whole palms through his scalp, this time under running lukewarm water. He didn't stop at the back of his neck. Instead, his big palms moved lower and pushed at shoulders, releasing the tension there. When they came back to pull at his hair, Neji couldn't stop the moan from escaping his parted lips.
"Is it wrong to want to marry someone's hands?" He asked in a daze not really expecting to hear a response. The guy probably gets proposed to on daily basis.
"Is it wrong to want to marry someone's hair?"
When they got back to the mirror and the seat, the short exchange still echoed through his brain, and Neji couldn't rid of the thought of other things Kiba's hands could do to his hair and other parts of him.
Completely unaware of the images flying though his brain, the hairstylist simply brushed his hair (with no scissors in sight, thankfully). There were different kinds of brushes that Neji's never seen before, sometimes interchanged with a blow-drier. Occasionally, the man's warm fingers would brush over his earlobes and nape and send shivers down his spine, which afterwards would be soothed over with another touch of knuckles to his back.
There was another scented oil being massaged into his hair all the way from the roots to the ends that smelled a lot like jasmine green tea that he secretly loved. He kept looking after the sure movements not noticing the time go by but subconsciously waiting for scissors to appear behind his back.
None came.
"I will give you another hair tie, the one you had will ruin your hair eventually," heard he and then felt a light tug at his hair somewhere mid-back. "Your hair won't get in a way too much, this way."
The man looked at him through the mirror and straightened a few long locks at the front— fingertips brushing his jaw sent tingles straight under the tongue—and some more at the back.
"We're done" the man all but breathed the sentence into his ear, causing Neji's blush to deepen and spread all the way to his neck. The embarrassment was quickly replaced by confusion and he simply stood there, stupefied. Wasn't there supposed to be a scissor dominated cutting part of getting a haircut?
Kiba turned him around by the shoulders and put a mirror in his hand to look at the final result. Neji couldn't believe that it was his hair he was seeing – they were glossy, soft, absolutely glorious, and (he could swear) sparkling. Though, this wasn't all, they were—
"How?" he asked, eyes wide and searching for answers in Kiba's.
—just a couple of inches, but shorter.
Kiba shrugged and grinned with that charming wolfish grin of his.
"I didn't do much, only trimmed some worn out split ends. I kind of noticed that you're afraid of scissors, probably because of that first haircut, so did it carefully and quietly"
Neji had to put in a real effort into stoping himself from giving the man a hug, but preventing a smile was not humanely possible, so that's what he did. Suddenly, the man's cheeks dusted with colour and an awkward laugh escaped the stylist.
"So—um," he cleared his throat as Neji looked at him "Will you show to our date next time?"
The new piece of information caused something to click inside Neji's head and he laughed. No wonder, Naruto was so insistent on him getting a haircut.
"Sure"
"That's not all—" the stylist continued "Can I count this as our first date? 'Cause the next time I see you, no way I will be able to hold back from kissing you."
Neji huffed out an amused breath.
"Well, it was very impolite of me to stand you up the last time, but as you waited—" he took a sure step inside Kiba's personal space and lowered his voice an octave "—I don't mind calling this one as our second date."
Half a breath later, warm lips met his.
AN: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked it ❤️