It didn’t take Jensen long to realize certain things about Misha Collins—the guy is very smart, a little quirky, and absolutely, one hundred percent incapable of styling his own hair. It was bad enough that the show’s stylists always made the guy look so like he just danced on a train’s third rail, but Jensen soon discovered that Misha wasn’t any better with it, and it’s little things like that that tend to drive Jensen crazy.
He loves his friends and he wants them to be happy, and he knows that people feel happier when they look sharp. So Jensen will often lend a helping hand. It’s why he’s given Richard certain scarves—so that all his outfits can pop; and it’s why Jared started wearing beanies all the time—because Jensen knew how well they framed his face. And it’s not like Jensen thinks any of his buddies look bad without these little adjustments, but why not help them spice things up a bit? Why not make sure that they’re always putting their best foot forward? Appearances certainly aren’t everything but they do count for something, and that’s why Jensen wants to ensure that all his buddies look their best.
So after the third week in a row where Misha showed up to set looking like a cow had just treated his head as an ice cream cone, Jensen became determined to do something about it.
“We’re friends, right?” he asks suddenly, catching Misha by surprise.
Misha cracks a wary smile but then nods. “I would like to think we are.”
“Okay good” Jensen sighs, finally grabbing Misha by the arm and yanking him in the direction of his trailer, “because we need to do something about all—” he makes a floppy gesture towards the top of the other man’s head, “this.”
Misha’s hand shoots up to touch is own hair, and then he squints at Jensen. “What?”
“Your hair, dude. This …” he gestures again, “this is not a look.”
Misha eventually drops his hand and shrugs. “I don’t really have a look. It’s not worth my time.”
“Looking your best isn’t worth your time?” Jensen counters, stopping in his tracks while sounding slightly offended by that idea.
Misha shrugs once more. “Who am I trying to impress?”
“You’re a public figure! You’re trying to impress practically everyone!”
After the third shrug, Jensen gives up on the speeches and continues to drag Misha up the steps to his trailer. “Well, if you don’t care then you won’t care if I try to make that mess on your head look a little better.”
“Go for it” Misha laughs, still sounding completely unimpressed by any of this.
Once inside, Jensen sits Misha down onto one of the stools by the kitchen peninsula and tells him to wait there, and then he goes to the back to grab all of his combs and hair products from his bathroom. By the time he returns, Misha’s eyes are wide as he looks at all the things filling Jensen’s arms.
“I don’t think I have enough hair for all of that” the man mutters, obviously second guessing his agreement to let Jensen style him. “Come to think of it—how do you have enough hair for all of that?”
Jensen rolls his eyes as he sets everything down on the counter. “I’m not going to use all of it, but I don’t know what I’ll need until I get in there.”
“It’s hair, not brain surgery, Jensen.”
“Hey—hair can be complicated. Just ask your poor scalp. You must torture that thing!”
Misha frowns and then scratches at his head with concern. “Does it really look that bad?”
Jensen frowns some too. “Nah, man – look, you just need to know how to handle it. It’s not horrible … just … messy.”
“Isn’t messy all the rage these days?”
“Not a good rage” Jensen grunts, lining up the mousses and gels in order of hold. Once everything is ready, he smiles and claps his hands together. “Alright—here we go!”
“You’re way too excited about this” Misha mutters, spinning back around on the stool as Jensen comes around the counter to stand in front of him.
“I’ve been wanting to do this for weeks” Jensen admits, already reaching out for Misha’s head to get started.
It’s only then that Jensen realizes what he’d said, and it makes him blush a little. “Heh—uh, yeah, well … I just had some ideas of how I could help, ya know? Make all this look better.”
Misha stares up at him curiously but Jensen continues to avoid direct eye contact, choosing instead to focus on running his hands through the man’s hair, seeing which way it naturally wants to go.
“Well …” he says after a minute, “at least it doesn’t feel too coarse. Do you condition it?”
Misha makes an unsure sound before shrugging again. “I just use whatever my wife uses.”
Jensen nods, thinking about how much that makes sense. A guy who doesn’t really care about his appearance, probably wouldn’t go spending money on extra products just for him. “Alright, well—whatever she gets is pretty good.” Jensen pushes his hands across Misha’s scalp one more time, just feeling and playing with the strands. “Okay—so it seems like your hair naturally wants to pull to the left, so that’s what we’ll go with.”
“Usually things on me want to pull to the right” Misha laughs while looking up to catch Jensen’s eye. He then gives him a slow wink, quickly flicking his gaze downwards to try and emphasize his point.
Jensen groans. “Stop movin’ your head and be quiet, will ya? I’m trying to work my magic.”
Misha corrects his posture and sits up straight. “Take it away, Magic Man. I’m in your hands.”
Jensen groans again, but he soon focuses all his attention on the top of his friend’s head, trying to figure out which mousse to start with. After a second more, he reaches for the one with medium hold and extra volume, thinking that some lift might just create the image that Jensen has in his mind. And as soon as he has a generous amount of foam in his hand, he begins to work it through the dark locks of Misha’s hair—massaging here and twisting there, trying to make the tendrils clump together just right.
“How’s it goin’ up there, boss?” Misha asks, peeking at Jensen from the tops of his eyes.
Jensen steps back a bit before answering, pivoting in the middle to try and see his masterpiece from every angle. “I’m … not sure yet.”
“That’s a good sign” Misha hums dryly.
Jensen glares at him and then scoots up close once more. “Shut up—I just started.”
“Well, please, take your time. After all, I’m just here to help you get through beauty school. Are we practicing highlights next? Doing my nails?” Misha brings up his hands to his face and begins picking at his fingers. “I know my cuticles have been a hot mess lately.”
“Jesus” Jensen moans, wondering why he expected Misha to be at all cooperative throughout this experience.
“We should get Jared in here too—you can braid his hair, or put it in a bun … no! Shave half of it.”
That makes Jensen finally crack a smile. “Dude, he won’t let me anywhere near his hair! He’s so protective.”
Misha grimaces as Jensen tugs some of the strands just a bit too hard. “Yeah—I’m starting to see why.”
“Oh shut it, ya wimp!”
After that, Misha smiles but he stays quiet, letting Jensen play hairdresser without any protest. So Jensen pulls the locks every which way, twisting and combing, running his fingers through it all and then starting over when it all refuses to work. And before he knows it, nearly twenty minutes have passed and Misha is starting to slump in his seat. “Are we—ya know, close to being done yet? It has been a long day.”
Jensen sighs before pulling over the other stool and sitting himself down as well, immediately going back to his work once he’s settled. “I just can’t … it’s not doing …” he bites his lip a moment. “It’s just not doing what I want it to.”
Misha laughs. “Now do you see why I never bother?”
Jensen grumbles but he doesn’t want to give up yet. With a determined breath, he runs his index finger across Misha’s hairline, tracing the edges of each strand—as if mapping it all out will help somehow. But just as he slips down over the man’s ear, Misha drops his chin a little, so Jensen moves his other hand over to lift it up again. He then sits back, finally taking in all of Misha’s face at eye level, thinking that it may help him figure out where he’s going wrong. While gazing at his hair, Jensen’s eyes drop down some—and he notes the man’s high cheek bones and strong jaw as well—and the way his large eyes tilt down slightly at the ends. He stares at the rough stubble covering Misha’s chin and upper lip, framing his mouth in a way that makes his lips seem impossibly pink. Jensen then looks at the man’s nose, realizing how it’s not the usual type of nose that would work on someone—but on Misha, it looks good. It fits his face—and his face overall, is a nice one to look at.
“Everything where it should be?” Misha asks, and Jensen suddenly realizes that he’s long since stopped playing with the man’s hair, and is now just staring at all his features while his fingers play lightly at the base of his neck.
Misha chuckles a little before quirking an eyebrow. “Do I look super sexy now?”
Jensen blushes again, finally glancing back at the man’s hair, which he has somehow—made worse. “Well, actually …”
He doesn’t let him finish, and with a wide grin, Misha stands up, eventually lifting his hands back to his hair and running them through with a few quick swipes. Then, with the tips of his fingers, he combs the strands over to the left, doing soft little twists once he gets to the ends. After his hair is parted just so, he flattens his palms and smooths down the sides behind his ears, giving his head a quick shake when it’s all said and done; and that makes everything bounce and lift—like the mousse was supposed to.
Jensen gawks up at him in shock, because after only a minute and a few blind, flicks of his wrist, Misha’s hair looks perfect, a beautiful example of “intentionally messy” and exactly what Jensen had been going for. “But … how?” he whispers, standing slowly to reach for Misha’s head.
But the man only smacks his hand away, wearing a smirk that would put the devil to shame. “I said it wasn’t worth the effort—I never said I didn’t know how to do it.” And with that, Misha grins, stepping around Jensen and smacking him on the ass before heading out the door. “Thanks for the head massage though!” he calls out, just as the door slams shut behind him; and Jensen would flip him off, but he’s still just too damned stunned to even try.