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Johnny opens the door to the beauty salon and is bombarded with the scent of lavender and sandalwood. Inside he’s greeted with hardwood flooring, white walls and indoor plants, shelves upon shelves of bottles containing various beauty creams and skin care items, and a smiling face behind the counter.
It’s a little overwhelming, partially because he’s never stepped foot inside a salon before and partially because he has no idea how he ended up here, of all places.
“Good afternoon! How can I help you?” the man behind the counter says. His name tag reads Jungwoo.
“Uh, hi, I’m here for a facial?” He repeats what Taeyong told him to say. He pushes his glasses a little higher up on his nose, a nervous habit.
“Okay, did you schedule an appointment?” Jungwoo asks politely while pulling something up on the computer next to him.
“Uh...No.” It still comes out unsure, much like Johnny’s entire presence in the salon.
Jungwoo briefly glances at him from over the computer as he continues to search for something, probably the salon’s scheduled appointments of the day. After a few clicks, his expression lights up with the satisfaction of having found what he was looking for. “Well, it looks like we have one specialist available right now.”
“That’s great, I’ll take the slot.” This is working out better than Johnny expected.
“Okay, we have around 12 different types of facials, did you have something in mind? Firming, cleansing, sculpting?”
Johnny freezes up. Taeyong only told him so much. Luckily, Jungwoo picks up on Johnny’s bewilderment and chuckles, handing him a pen and a clipboard he pulled out from under the counter. “Okay, if you are unsure of what you need, you can fill out these questions and the specialist can determine what treatment is right for you.”
“Thank you,” Johnny says gratefully. Jungwoo can probably hear the sigh of relief in his voice at not having to make this decision.
The questions ask him stuff like if he gets any types of acne frequently, if his face is saggy, and if he is unsatisfied with his wrinkles. All things Johnny has literally never considered before. As Johnny enters all of the information, he feels more than sees Jungwoo glance at his secondhand leather jacket and combat boots, all out of place in the pristine white shop. When he looks back up, passing the clipboard back, Jungwoo’s expression is slightly more confused, slightly warier of Johnny, but still welcoming.
Jungwoo looks over the survey quickly to ensure it’s filled out properly before turning up to Johnny, saying, “Right this way.” He steps out from behind the counter to lead Johnny down the hall. They stop in front of the last door, which Jungwoo knocks on gently before opening.
“Hi Ten,” he says quietly, stepping inside and handing over the clipboard as the man finishes wiping down a counter. Johnny hovers on the threshold of the room. “This is a walk-in, he filled out a survey.”
The specialist, Ten, skims the clipboard before looking up to Johnny, waving him inside. Jungwoo smiles at Johnny as he exits, closing the door behind him, leaving him alone in the dimly lit room with Ten. A part of him feels like he was just consigned to an uncertain fate. He pushes his glasses up.
But then Ten smiles at him. Not only is Ten’s skin glowing, but his smile is beaming. Even if Johnny is hopelessly clueless about salons and beauty, and even if a part of him wants to turn tail and run, Johnny’s willing to stick it out for that smile.
“Hi, I’m Ten, I’ll be your specialist for the day, and you are?”
“I’m Johnny.”
“Johnny.” Ten’s smile grows a little wider.
“Well then, I want to examine your face before we begin today, but first I’ll give you an opportunity to change into a towel if you want,” Ten says, reading his answers to the survey as he pulls out a towel from a cabinet.
Johnny startles. Taeyong said nothing about being naked. “You mean, nothing but the towel?” Yeah, Ten is cute, but that doesn’t mean Johnny plans to do anything about it.
Suddenly it all clicks for Ten. He tries to hold back a laugh. “Sorry, is this your first time getting a facial?”
Johnny nods hesitantly.
“I’m so sorry. I’m honored to be giving you your first facial.” He’s not doing a very good job of holding back his laugh, much to Johnny’s chagrin. “That explains a lot though. You looked ready to piss yourself. Just so you know, it’s common for people getting facials to wear just towels.”
“Why?” The more Johnny learns about the salon, the warier he gets.
“I don’t know, I think some people find it relaxing.”
“Can I pass on that?” He knows he sounds a little like a kid trying to get out of eating his vegetables, but the idea of sitting almost naked on a table while Ten pokes his face reminds him eerily of a morgue.
“Please,” he tacks on belatedly, desperately.
Ten laughs, and drapes the towel he’s holding over the cushioned table. “Yeah, you can pass. Go ahead and lay down.”
Johnny takes his place on the table, trying not to think of morgues and how exposed he feels, even though he’s fully clothed. Ten directs a bright light in his face that Johnny has to squint against and takes a seat beside his head. Ten slowly removes his glasses from his face before folding them up and tucking them into Johnny’s jacket pocket for him, patting the pocket lightly. He then gently directs Johnny to tilt his head from side to side, examining it. After a minute, he sits back and hums, surprised.
“You have pretty good skin, despite not doing anything for it. I’m assuming you don’t do anything for it?” Ten peers at him.
Johnny can’t help but grin. “You guessed correctly.”
“I know my stuff,” Ten snorts. “Okay, the major thing I’m seeing is blackheads, so the treatment I’ll give you will target that. Your skin type is oily, so it’ll help with that, too.” Ten throws out a price that Johnny agrees to because it’s not as expensive as he was expecting, and Ten whisks about the room setting stuff up.
He turns off the light, leaving the room dim again, and asks him if he prefers music or not. It’s only now that Johnny registers the music, something generic that sounds like it would play at the back of an instructional yoga youtube video. He tells Ten he doesn’t mind, but Ten must pick up on his distaste and turns the volume down a little anyway.
Ten washes his hands thoroughly and returns to the seat by Johnny’s head, a bottle of cleanser and a headband in hand.
“Normally guys don’t need the headband, but we’ve already established you’re a special case,” he smiles, friendly in a way that puts Johnny at ease despite being teased a little bit. Johnny takes the headband and pushes his admittedly overgrown hair out of the way.
“Your hair is pretty, by the way.” Ten adds, matter-of-fact. “Looks silky.”
“Oh, thanks,” Johnny manages to stutter out after he overcomes the initial shock of being given a sincere compliment from a playful stranger.
Ten claps his hands together. “Alright, we’re going to get started. Do you prefer silence or conversation?”
Conversation, he thinks. Why would anyone want to sit in silence while vulnerable on a table? That only adds to the whole morgue thing they got going on here. He doesn’t realize he’s said it out loud until Ten launches into a fit of laughter. Johnny’s kind of an idiot.
“If it makes you feel any better, I’m the one who has to work here and be here every day, not you. Conversation it is.”
And that’s that. Johnny is lucky Ten is Ten, because maybe no one else would have let an insult to their establishment like that slide.
Ten begins to rub the cleanser into Johnny’s face, making gentle but firm circles. “So Johnny, to what do I owe the pleasure of giving you a facial today?”
It takes a second for Johnny to process the words because he is still getting accustomed to the feeling of having someone else touch his face. “Oh, my friend Taeyong is a photography major? He told me I’d make a good model and that he’d even take headshots for me, but he said I had to get a facial first. Something about good skin.”
“Well he’s right,” Ten snorts, again. “Photoshop can only do so much.” He pauses as Johnny laughs, face twisting under Ten’s stilled hands, before he resumes.
“So, is modeling the only thing you do?” The judgment in Ten’s tone is masked, but Johnny can still detect it.
“God, no. I don’t even model yet. If I were to actually get a gig, it would just be to rake in a little extra cash on the side. I’m actually a student at SMU.”
Ten breathes a sigh of relief. “Good. It’s kinda delusional to think you could live off a model’s pay without even trying it once. Was worried for you for a second.” He smiles at Johnny, warm.
“Yeah, I know.” Johnny chuckles.
“So what do you do at SM?” Ten asks. He’s stopped cleansing and started using this machine that blows steam in Johnny’s face, which is a little concerning, but at least talking to Ten is nice.
“I’m in my last year as a Lit major. I’m actually interning for an editing and publishing firm right now, and I’m pretty sure they’re going to offer me a job once I graduate. But as of right now I’m just an RA in a freshman hall.”
Ten looks at him with pity and tuts, smiling. “Poor thing.” Something in Johnny’s stomach curls at Ten’s tone. “RA, huh? No wonder you need a facial.”
“What do you mean?” Johnny asks. He knows he’s missing something obvious here.
Ten gives him a weird look. “You play mom to a bunch of teenage boys. That has to be stressful, right?”
“Oh yeah, it really fucking is. But what does that have to do with a facial?”
Ten just stares at him for a minute. He’s not analyzing his face this time, but his expression. “Wow, you really walked in here knowing absolutely nothing about facials, I’m impressed.” He gives Johnny a slight nod of approval. “Again, just so you know, along with cleaning your skin, facials are also supposed to act kind of like a massage, in a way? That’s why people like it naked, too. It’s supposed to leave you relaxed, or…” He pauses, thinking of the right word. “Refreshed, maybe?”
Johnny offers him some. “Revitalized? Renewed?”
“Ugh, you really are a Lit major,” Ten says, rolling his eyes before breaking out into a full smile. “But yes. You’re supposed to feel like a brand new person when you walk out.”
Johnny is left to mull over those words as Ten whirls about the room preparing for something called “extractions.”
(“It’s not as morgue-y as it sounds, promise.”)
As he lays there, Johnny has nothing better to do but watch Ten. Ten is elegant in a way Johnny can’t quite place. There’s a particular sureness in his movements as he performs any task. It’s graceful, and Johnny is left in awe. Johnny could easily watch him all day, even if it means his face is being touched constantly. Actually, that might even be a plus. That same certainty in movement carries to Ten’s fingers, and their touch on Johnny’s face is soft and soothing. He could get used to this, he thinks.
Johnny can’t talk during the extraction. It’s a bit painful, but Johnny calls it a victory when he only flinches away sharply twice throughout the entire process. Ten even commends him on it. Ten then begins to massage his face, all sure motions.
“So tell me more about being an RA. It’s stressful right?”
“Yeah. It’s stressful, but it’s rewarding in a way. Kind of like having brothers. I really like the kids.”
“I’d think so. But what’s the worst part of your job? You have to have at least one great story to tell me. I want all the gossip.” Ten’s eyes are glinting as he pauses the massage.
“Let me think.” Ten resumes massaging his face as Johnny recalls the perfect story. “So the kids in the room right next to me, Mark and Donghyuck, bicker all the time, so often I can hardly sleep because I hear them yelling through the walls…”
Johnny’s voice comes out distorted as Ten rubs and squishes his face. It takes a minute for Johnny to realize that Ten is purposefully squeezing and pinching his cheeks in a manner that probably isn’t an official massage technique. Johnny pauses his story as he looks up Ten, one eyebrow raised.
Unfortunately for Johnny’s heart, Ten has the audacity to throw his head back and giggle at being caught. And then, even worse, he looks down to Johnny and gives him the same smile he gave him when he first walked in, welcoming, but this time so much more real. This time, up close, Johnny is able to recognize what makes that smile so special. It holds all the same easy gracefulness Ten does, enthralling.
“I’m sorry,” Ten says without sounding all that apologetic. “Continue. I want to hear about these kids.” Ten’s eyes sparkle even in the dimly lit room. How could Johnny say no to that?
He continues.
❖
By the end of the session, after about a million different creams and serums have been rubbed into Johnny’s face, Ten hands him a mirror to check his skin out.
Johnny sits up, surprised. “Wow!” He looks to Ten in awe, and then back to the mirror. Ten laughs.
Johnny tilts his head back and forth, examining his skin in the mirror. He then turns to Ten in earnest. “Thank you, you did a great job.”
Ten titters. He then proceeds to explain to Johnny what exactly the treatment did, and how Johnny should take care of his skin in the future, recommending a few products.
“And that’s it?” Johnny asks Ten.
Ten nods in confirmation. “That’s it. You survived your first facial, how was it?”
“Scary, but better than expected, thanks to you.”
“I’m flattered.” Ten is smiling that same graceful, authentic smile.
Johnny moves to stand up, and has Ten takes a step back. He has to look up a bit to see Johnny’s face.
“Shit, you really are tall. No wonder your friend told you to model.”
“Maybe you’re just short.”
Ten sends him a half-hearted glare, one so natural he must have practiced it, but still slides Johnny’s glasses out of his jacket pocket and wipes them down before gently reaching up to place them back on Johnny’s nose. “There we go,” he smiles. He then leads him out of the room and back down the hall so he can ring Johnny up. Johnny pays with his card, but still fishes a twenty out of his wallet.
“Here’s a tip. Thanks again, you were great.”
Ten takes the bill. Johnny thinks he might have seen Ten’s cheeks turn just one shade pinker.
“Anytime. I’m surprised you even know to tip.” It’s a little teasing, just like almost everything about Ten.
“I know I gave off the impression of being an idiot, but I swear I’m not.”
“Okay, sure.” Ten’s expression then softens slightly. “I hope you come back for another facial soon.”
“I might. I’m starting to think it’s not that bad,” Johnny says, slowing walking towards the door, eyes still on Ten.
This time Ten’s smile is small but sure. “Bye, Johnny.”
“Bye, Ten. See you around.” Johnny smiles to himself as he opens the door and steps out into the cool air.
❖
When Johnny meets up with Taeyong the next day, Taeyong is shocked.
He’s waiting for Taeyong at some weird secluded corner of the campus where a mural is hidden, tucked away behind a patio. It’s desolate, not a person in sight. Taeyong said it’s good for pictures. Johnny was told to dress nice, so he hopes his blazer, slightly unironed white dress shirt, and black slacks are enough, or at least better than his usual jeans, tee, and beanie. He even put in his contacts for this.
When Taeyong rounds the corner and sees Johnny, dressed up with glowing skin, he almost drops his camera. “Wow, Johnny, you look great.”
“Thanks.” Johnny smiles, pleased.
Taeyong continues to look him up and down. “No, seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look this good.”
Ouch. “Thanks?”
Taeyong rolls his eyes at him. “Shut up, you know what I meant.”
Taeyong sets up his camera and lights, along with some other assorted equipment. He begins shooting pictures of Johnny posed against the mural, but between shots he asks Johnny about the facial.
“So how was the facial? I’m a little surprised you survived without me.”
Johnny smirks, and Taeyong captures it, camera clicking. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Taeyong smiles, looking intently at his camera’s screen. “Anytime,” he retorts.
“It was fine,” Johnny starts, shifting his weight on his feet. “The facial itself was a bit painful at parts but it was fine.”
“Move your arm higher, good, okay hold it—,” the camera clicks again, and then Taeyong moves it away from his face to examine the shot. “So it was painful, anything else?” Taeyong asks only half interested, his focus more trained on the camera.
“Well, I guess the guy giving the facial was nice.”
Taeyong’s ears perk up at that as he angles the camera for another shot. “Oh, really? Just nice?” he asks, smirking from behind his camera, the lens staring Johnny down.
Johnny has to will himself to not blush. Of course, Taeyong would want to hear more about Johnny’s love life; he’s like a mother playing matchmaker. Johnny rolls his eyes. Unfortunately, the eye roll coincides with Taeyong’s shot, and immediately Taeyong is scolding him.
“Ugh, Johnny, c’mon. You ruined this shot.”
Johnny just glares at him.
“Just try not to mess up any more pictures, okay?” he starts, conceding. “Instead of me behind the camera, pretend it’s your facial guy,” he teases Johnny, his tone turned cheeky.
Johnny flips him off, and the camera captures that, too.
❖
Over the course of the next few weeks, Johnny is absolutely battered with coursework and work for his internship. The facial and the cute guy he almost flirted with completely slip his mind. It isn’t until Taeyong approaches him around 3 weeks later that Johnny remembers he even had a facial.
He gets a text from Taeyong after he leaves his 3rd course of the day asking him to meet him at Neo Coffee Tech, the quietest café on campus. Johnny resents having to lug his books across campus to get there, but Taeyong says he has a surprise in store for him, and Johnny would do literally anything for free coffee.
It turns out the surprise is not free coffee. When Johnny dumps himself in the seat opposite of Taeyong, Taeyong pulls out a folder and hands it to him. He’s holding back a smile, so Johnny is already bouncing in anticipation, even if there’s no coffee in sight.
Johnny gasps.
The first thing inside the folder is a final shot of Johnny from the day of the photoshoot. Taeyong is a great photographer, coming up with interesting angles and fantastic lighting. But the more surprising thing about the shots is that Johnny genuinely thinks he looks handsome. He doesn’t appear to be posed or stiff. His face looks sharp and soft at the same time, his eyes are deep and dark, his expressions mesmerizing. Johnny actually can’t believe he ever looked like that.
Taeyong is overjoyed with Johnny’s reaction, and he leans forward over the table, eager for praise. “Didn’t I do a good job? I know they’re a bit late, the editing took a lot more time than expected because I had to work on a few other projects at the same time. But they came out awesome, didn’t they?” Taeyong plucks the folder out of Johnny’s hands despite Johnny’s protests to flip through the photos, his face lighting up when he finds the two he wants.
“This one is my personal favorite.” He hands one of the photos to Johnny. It’s a headshot of Johnny facing the camera directly. He looks serious, eyes challenging those that look upon the photo. His skin looks positively luminous, and the nicer outfit against the mural all compliment Johnny and his features very nicely. Johnny loves it.
Taeyong is holding back his giggles. “Do you want to know why it’s my favorite?” Before Johnny even gets a chance to respond, Taeyong hands him the second picture he picked out. It’s the full length, unedited version of the previous photo. It turns out the headshot was just a cropped version of the shot where Johnny gave Taeyong the middle finger.
Johnny laughs too loudly for a quiet campus study spot, and he gets a few dirty glares from tired students.
Johnny can’t believe Taeyong turned a picture of him being a dick into a quality headshot. His voice drops to a whisper. “These are amazing, Taeyong. Thank you so much. You’re so good.”
Taeyong’s chest puffs out with pride, but he still remains humble. “I actually didn’t have to do a lot of work. You really are a natural model, your poses and expressions are great. And I don’t know what that facial did, but I literally didn’t have to touch up your skin at all.”
“Facial?” Johnny asks.
Taeyong quirks an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, facial, you got one a few weeks ago before the shoot?”
The memory of a graceful figure hits Johnny like a ton of bricks.
“Oh, yeah, right.” He swallows down the sudden urge to get a facial this instant and tries to keep paying attention to Taeyong’s conversation. He pushes his glasses up and adjusts his beanie, fidgeting.
“I’m serious, Johnny. You really could model. You should submit these photos to an agency or something. Also, would you be my model for an upcoming project I have in one of my courses, pretty please? Coffee’ll be on me.” Taeyong smiles a sweet, conniving smile, and before Johnny knows it he’s saying yes.
He says yes for two reasons. One is that there’s free coffee. More importantly, two is that he has an excuse to get another facial.
❖
Unfortunately, Johnny leaves the café too late to head to the salon that night, but Johnny has only one class the next day and plans on stopping by the salon immediately after before RA duties can sink their claws into him.
The salon looks the exactly like it looked last time, except the general foreign feel of the place has dissipated. Jungwoo is still behind the counter and recognizes Johnny when he walks in.
“Hello again! Johnny, right?” This time, Jungwoo doesn’t look at Johnny and his leather jacket like a bull in a china shop. “Thanks for coming back to BeU Beauty. Did you make an appointment this time around?” Jungwoo is pulling the schedule up on the computer again regardless.
“No, sorry.” So that’s what Johnny forgot.
“It’s okay, there’s an opening in 10 minutes, if that’s alright.” Johnny nods and takes a seat in the waiting area amid the potted plants.
Only a couple minutes later, some client walks out from the hallway, waving goodbye to Jungwoo before leaving the salon. Jungwoo nods at Johnny, slipping out from behind the counter yet again to lead Johnny all the way down the hall. However, instead of turning to the door on the right like last time, Jungwoo turns to the door on the left.
“It says here on your survey from last time that you had Ten and he gave you a facial for your blackheads? Ten isn’t in today, but Kun can give you the same treatment as last time.”
Johnny tries not to feel let down as Jungwoo opens the door to reveal Kun, not Ten. In a moment of weakness, he considers just denying the slot, but that’s rude and it’s a little too late and as scared as Johnny may be of the stupid salon that feels like a morgue, Johnny is not a quitter. How else could he continue to put up with Mark and Donghyuck?
So Johnny sucks it up and sits through the facial Kun gives him. It’s okay, but something about it is slightly off-putting.
Kun is fine, really, but Johnny can’t help comparing him to Ten. Kun is gentle and friendly, and Johnny’s skin still looks great when all is said and done, but Kun lacks the confidence in motion that Ten does, or the ease in conversation. He’s not as graceful, or as playful, and Johnny doesn’t quite feel renewed at the end of the facial.
He feels a bit unsatisfied. He’s upset with himself for feeling unsatisfied.
He pays Kun and tips him twenty, but his smile is tight-lipped when he thanks him and waves goodbye.
When Johnny walks out of the salon, he feels exhausted.
❖
Johnny has been staring at the phone on his desk for the better portion of his shift at the publishing firm. It’s staring back at him. You really think you’re going to use me? it says. He hasn’t worked up the gall to use it yet.
The number for BeU Beauty is already pulled up on the computer, hidden under a tab that’s open to Johnny’s emails. All it really takes is for Johnny to punch in a few numbers, but the task seems a bit too daunting in the quiet office Johnny does his internship in. Doyoung, his back stick straight, is still typing away methodically at the desk across from him, pencil occasionally scratching out notes. Johnny doesn’t dare challenge the relative silence of the publishing firm.
He spends the next 15 minutes staring mindlessly at the manuscript in front of him without actually marking it up. Suddenly a small beeping alarm goes off.
Doyoung immediately stops his work and clicks off the alarm coming from his watch, standing up. “Hey, Yuta from upstairs and I are going to go get a coffee, do you want to come with?”
Doyoung starts moving his eyebrows in a weird way, so Johnny says no. He checks the time, it’s 4:20 p.m. Nice.
Once Doyoung is gone, the office is empty. Johnny strikes.
He dials the phone number and after a few rings is greeted by a voice that thankfully isn’t Jungwoo’s. It would be hard to explain to Jungwoo why it has to be Ten and not Kun giving him his next facial.
Whoever is manning the desk today sounds bored out of his mind. “Hi, this is BeU Beauty, I’m Lucas, how can I help you?”
“Hi, Lucas, my name is Johnny, I want to schedule an appointment.”
“Uh, okay, when?” The sound of lethargic typing resonates over the line.
Johnny doesn’t really know how to approach his request because everything about the call was founded on impulse. He guesses this is why he needs Taeyong. “I guess, um...when is the specialist named Ten available?”
Lucas doesn’t even react, and the line is dead silent for at least 30 seconds before he finally responds. “He has a spot for 6:30 today.”
“Great, I’ll take it.”
“Cool, bye Johnny.” Lucas hangs up on him after that.
“Bye?” Johnny doesn’t have time to celebrate because Doyoung walks in a second later, no coffee in sight. Doyoung takes a seat in his chair with his perfect posture, but his eyes are bloodshot; somehow he’s able to resume typing without an issue, like he didn’t just smoke up in the back alley by the firm’s dumpster.
The next hour and a half fly by, Johnny’s leg impatiently bouncing the entire time, and immediately upon the clock striking six Johnny leaves the office, barely waving goodbye to Doyoung.
He’s standing in front of the salon at 6:25, pushing up his glasses as he opens the door and walks in.
The guy playing on his phone behind the counter must be Lucas. He doesn’t look up from his phone, just jutting his thumb in the direction of the hall. Johnny doesn’t need any more prompting and walks right down to Ten’s door.
He pauses before knocking on it, facing the glossy white finish. He hopes the facial trip is worth it. He hopes he didn’t misinterpret his last experience with Ten. He knocks on the door.
Ten opens it, looking up in surprise at Johnny. He gasps before breaking out into a smile. “Johnny! Welcome back to the morgue!” He gracefully steps aside to let Johnny in.
Johnny sure as hell was not expecting that response, but no other response could have assuaged all of his fears as easily. He knows that everything he remembered about Ten was true. He smiles.
“I was starting to think we scared you off. I’m glad to see you back.” Ten’s smile is elegant and playful all at once. It’s even better than Johnny remembered.
“Me too.” Johnny already knows that he’s going to be making another appointment with Ten. And another. And maybe one more after that, too. No excuses.
“So, it’s been a while! Tell me, have you had any modeling escapades?”
“Yeah, want to see an HD photo of me flipping someone off?” he asks, pulling out his phone.
“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” Ten is already laughing. Johnny is reinvigorated. He feels great.
❖
Over the course of the next few appointments, Johnny learns much more about Ten, like the fact that alongside his position in the salon, he sometimes is a choreographer and dance instructor at a local studio.
(“Oh, so that’s why you’re so graceful!” Johnny blurts out before he can stop himself, a hand coming up to cover his mouth as an afterthought. Shit. His eyes screw shut in shame as Ten moves back to stand beside Johnny, a tub of green paste in hand.
“Thanks,” Ten says, mirthful. Johnny can’t see his face with his eyes squeezed closed, but he can hear Ten’s bubbly laugh, painted with...is that affection?
Johnny’s face heats up despite the cool paste Ten is gently spreading over his cheeks with deft fingers.)
He also learns that Ten likes to draw in his free time, all elegant twisting figures and shapes Johnny’s own brain would never be able to think of, much less actualize.
(“So with that and the dancing, is it safe to assume that you’re more of a free, artistic spirit?” Johnny asks after Ten finishes an extraction. The question didn’t sound nearly as flirty inside his head.
“Oh Johnny, You’re such a bad Lit major.” Ten says, a mischievous grin in place, not batting an eye at Johnny’s question. “You study this stuff. Doesn’t it go against the whole premise of a free spirit to be able to assume something about them? Aren’t they supposed to be unpredictable?” His eyes are twinkling as he wipes his hands on a towel.
Johnny’s a little awestruck because Ten’s points do have a certain validity and intelligence to them. He stands by Ten being a free spirit, though, because in no way was Johnny able to predict that Ten’s mind would be just as nimble as his hands and feet.
“You got me there.” Johnny returns the smile.)
He even learns that the proper term for Ten’s job is an esthetician.
(“Yeah, it’s technically the proper term,” Ten starts, tentative.
“But what?” Johnny asks. He smiles, coaxing Ten to finish the thought.
“I hate it.” Ten looks from where his fingers are smoothing down a face mask on Johnny’s skin to his eyes. The way he smiles reveals that he knows it’s ironic. “It’s just so hard for me to pronounce!” he exclaims. He tries saying it again, slowly and sound by sound, but messes up, his tongue flipping the sounds around anyway. He huffs, laughing to himself. “This is so embarrassing.”
So maybe Ten’s tongue is the one thing about Ten that isn’t graceful. Johnny didn’t expect that. He still doesn’t think he would mind, though.)
But most importantly, he learns that Ten lacks a certain professionalism most clients would expect. But instead of throwing Johnny off, it’s relaxing. Ten is playful, enticing. Their conversation flows naturally, never venturing into awkward small talk. And any lack of professionalism in speech is made up for with Ten’s incredible grace. Even when snarky, his voice is steady and lilting; his footsteps hardly make a sound as he whirls about the room; his hands never slip, going through fluid motions so practiced Johnny could believe he had been doing them for over a hundred years, despite Ten being around his age. Johnny can’t help but be a little captivated by him.
The more Johnny learns about Ten, the more he dreads the end of the session where Ten holds up a mirror for him so he can see his skin looking brand new.
Johnny knows he’s being ridiculous, because it shouldn’t mean anything, but now Johnny is weirdly attached to both Ten and the facials and it’s too late to stop. He keeps going back. Taeyong catches him moping about all of it after his fifth facial.
Johnny is sitting on his bed, tired, hands wrapped around a cup of instant ramen. He also has a half-eaten Family Size bag of Takis next to him, which will definitely make him break out despite the facial he had earlier that day. He’s on his 5th episode of Queer Eye for the night, but even with his headphones on he can hear Mark and Donghyuck arguing about laundry through the wall. Gratefully, they have yet to barge into his room demanding he do something about it, so Johnny will count that as the one blessing in his life right now.
They’re about to do the big reveal for the episode when Taeyong opens the door to Johnny’s room. Johnny freezes, chopsticks pausing halfway between his mouth and the cup.
Taeyong is only partially in the room, but his shoulders still slump dramatically as he gestures to Johnny’s living situation. “Really?”
Johnny lets the ramen fall back into the cup.
“Why are you even here?” He tries not to sound too peeved, because as nagging as Taeyong can be, he really is a good friend.
“I was on this side of campus. I was going to ask if you wanted to go out tonight, but it looks like I’ll have to cross that one off the list,” Taeyong says, glancing at the disastrous state his dorm room is in. “What’s gotten you into this funk?” he sighs, exasperated.
Johnny takes off his headphones and sighs. “Ten.”
“You mean the facial guy?” Taeyong looks at him dubiously.
“Yeah, I mean the facial guy.” He glares at Taeyong over the top of his glasses. He’s definitely not pouting.
“What about him? Is he a dick? Just go to another salon,” Taeyong says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He’s clearly tired of dealing with Johnny.
“No, he’s not a dick at all. That’s the problem.”
Realization dawns on Taeyong, mouth opening a little bit in shock, and he moves further into Johnny’s room, sitting poised at the foot of his bed amongst a small pile of dirty laundry.
“Do you like him?” Taeyong searches Johnny’s face, trying to gauge his response.
“I don’t know.” It comes out sounding hopeless. Johnny had really been hoping to avoid deliberating it. It was why he was watching Queer Eye with his hand deep in the bag of Takis.
“Okay, well, is it just because the facial is soothing? Because if so, it shouldn’t be that big of a deal. You probably just associate Ten with the calming aspect of the facial.”
Johnny doesn’t know how to explain it to Taeyong, because it’s not that Ten’s presence is calming. It’s anything but. It makes Johnny burn with adrenaline, his heart race. But even if it’s not soothing in the physical sense, being with Ten does put Johnny at ease in a different way. He doesn’t worry about the Lit papers he has accumulating, or the fact that the salon still reminds him distantly of a morgue. He just feels reassured, like everything will work out. He’s content to just smile at Ten and just enjoy being with him. Something about Ten makes the tight knot of worry hidden deep in his stomach melt. Maybe it’s Ten’s grace. Maybe it’s just Ten.
So Johnny just shrugs. “Yes, the facial’s soothing, but it’s not because he’s rubbing my face or anything. It’s soothing because it’s Ten.” He’s surprised at his own straightforwardness and poignancy, and he thanks the secret Lit major side of him that’s good with words.
There’s a pregnant pause where Taeyong stares right through him, eyes determined. “Then ask him out,” he says bluntly.
He gets up and walks away without another word, leaving Johnny to figure out how he’ll do just that.
❖
Johnny calls the salon. When Jungwoo answers, he sets up his next facial appointment (specifically requesting Ten, no shame) to be the slot just before closing time. He has a plan. Hopefully he has the guts to execute it.
Jungwoo is manning the counter of the salon on D-Day. Instead of leading him down the hall like normal, he rests his elbows on the countertop, looking peculiarly at Johnny. “You know what to do, don’t you?” His head is tilted to the side, inquisitive.
Johnny gulps, straightening out his glasses. He does know what to do. He walks down the hall and knocks on Ten’s door, determined.
Ten opens the door and Johnny just melts upon looking at him. Every muscle in his body releases its tension the second Ten smiles.
This appointment is like every other one with Ten. They talk the entire time, they share stories, they laugh at the other’s expense, always light and playful. And Ten still commands Johnny’s attention with fluid movements and assured smiles, all just as alluring as they were the first time. Johnny can’t look away.
It’s so perfectly normal Johnny almost forgets what he came here to do. Almost.
Ten hands Johnny a mirror before beginning to clean up the room, putting products away and wiping down machines.
“Thank you Ten. Great as always. But before you go putting everything away—,” Johnny looks over his shoulder at Ten, who has momentarily paused wiping something down, eyes on Johnny. Johnny puts his glasses back on, pushing them as high up on his nose they can go. “I was wondering if I can repay you in some way?”
Ten looks puzzled. He puts the cloth he’s holding down. “What did you have in mind? You’re already going to pay me, right?” He chuckles a little, unsure.
“I was thinking, I could, y’know,” he gestures around the room. “Give you a facial.” Ten’s face turns slightly pink. “If you want, of course,” Johnny adds.
Ten stands there perfectly still for a split second, and Johnny thinks that maybe he’s crossed a line, or that maybe Ten has misinterpreted his request badly. In hindsight, Johnny could’ve phrased that better.
But then Ten is walking out the door, a smile on his face, and Johnny knows Ten understood him perfectly. “Let me tell Jungwoo that I’ll close up tonight.” Ten slinks out, leaving Johnny alone in the room. He breathes a sigh of relief.
Then he sets himself in motion, searching in cabinets for all the supplies he needs. He’s going to do this right.
When Ten walks back in, Johnny stops him and tells him his plan for the facial. “So I was thinking I would just use the products and stuff. All the actual professional stuff I’m going to skip because I don’t think either of us would be happy if I tried to do extractions on you.”
Ten’s hand is still on the doorknob, and he’s looking up at Johnny with something akin to affection. He looks so small standing in the doorway that Johnny’s heart skips a beat.
Then Ten steps inside, closing the door behind him, leaving them alone in the tiny, half-lit room.
“Okay,” Ten says, trying to restrain a laugh, but his eyes hold pure, unbridled trust in Johnny as he takes a seat on the table.
Johnny’s knees feel weak, but for the first time he thinks that he might actually be able to do this. He’s not scared at all.
❖
Johnny has been absolutely silent for most of the facial. He can’t multitask to save his life, and he has to direct all his focus on trying not to fuck the treatments up because he’s clumsy and uncertain and not nearly as skilled as Ten. Ten doesn’t seem to mind though, content to just lie there on the table with closed eyes and bask in the gentle silence.
Johnny is on the last step of the treatment, smearing some white cream on Ten’s face, and he’s trying not to think about how weird that sounds or how badly he almost messed up earlier when not specifying what type of facial he would give Ten. He’s intently hovering over Ten’s face trying to spread the product in smooth motions when Ten cracks an eye open and giggles up at him.
Johnny pauses. “What?”
Ten giggles again, pushing up Johnny’s glasses for him after they had slipped down his nose. “You’re cute when you focus.”
“Oh.” Johnny knows that he’s blushing, and he relishes his last touches of Ten’s face before turning away to hide his burning cheeks. “You’re all done now.”
Ten sits up when Johnny hands him the mirror, cheeks finally returning to their normal hue. Ten’s skin doesn’t necessarily look better than it did before, but it’s still dazzling.
Ten begins gushing. “Johnny, wow, not to be rude, but I totally didn’t expect you to do this well. Thank you, it’s great.” He’s giving Johnny this heart-wrenchingly sincere smile as Johnny takes a seat next to him on the table.
There’s a beat where they just sit there on the table staring at each other, only about a foot of space between them.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Johnny asks.
Ten’s eyebrows jump up on his face slightly, but he’s still smiling as he nods at Johnny to continue. The atmosphere grows serious as Johnny builds up the courage to say what he wants to say next.
“I don’t like facials.”
Ten’s face falls. It’s hard for Johnny to watch. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Um, I don’t like facials.”
“That’s what I thought you said.” Ten goes stiff, features twisting into a frown. It looks unnatural on Ten. “Then why are you still here?” he challenges Johnny, defensive.
Johnny’s an idiot. He knows he’s an idiot, even if he’s less than a year away from holding a degree in Literature. Throughout Johnny’s meticulous confession planning, it never once occurred to him that Ten would think he was synonymous with a facial to Johnny. In Johnny’s eyes, he’d always been so much more.
Out of all the idiotic things Johnny has said, most of which Ten was surprisingly able to deduce, this was the one thing Ten didn’t get. Johnny can’t even blame him; Johnny had never made an attempt to let Ten know how he felt. Prior to this everything with Ten had been unabashed, playful, fun. Right now, this is sobering.
Johnny still hasn’t responded to Ten, so Ten assumes Johnny has had enough and moves to get off the table. Johnny reaches out to grab his waist before he can get off, anchoring him to the table with strong, unmoving arms. Ten looks away from Johnny pointedly.
“Ten, please, listen to me. I don’t like facials. From the very beginning it felt like being examined in a morgue, I told you this remember? But I’m still here, because, well,” Johnny pauses, thinking of the right words. “Remember when you told me that a facial was supposed to make me feel revitalized or renewed or something?” Ten still won’t look at him, but he nods, a small gesture. “The facials never did that for me. You did. I really like you, Ten. I don’t have the words to say how much I like you. Please hear me.” His words are desperate but true. He hopes Ten knows that as well.
Ten finally turns back to him, scowl still intact. “You stupid fucking Lit major,” he sneers; Johnny wasn’t expecting that as a response to his confession either. But then the frown bleeds off Ten’s face and a smile takes its place, the same brilliant, radiant, graceful smile Ten gave him at the very beginning that had Johnny coming back to the stupid beauty salon he never belonged in anyway. Ten glows like a beacon in the dim lighting.
“I like you, too.” Ten’s laugh is buoyant, feather-light, soothing.
Suddenly, the foot of space is just too much for Johnny. He surges forward, eager to put his lips on Ten. Ten meets him halfway, smiling into the kiss.
Ten’s lips are as soft and as sure as his hands on Johnny’s face. He tastes like green tea, crisp and light and refreshing. It’s unexpected, but it feels right.
❖
Ten leads Johnny out of the dark salon, locking up after him. The street is unusually quiet and the sun is setting peacefully behind the buildings. Johnny and Ten stare at each other for a moment, sporting matching small smiles.
Ten is silent as he slips his hand into Johnny’s, his fingers warm and smooth and certain, and all Johnny can think about is how Ten makes him feel. A little less worried, a little more courageous. A little more willing to step outside of his comfort zone, to embrace the unexpected, even if it’s just a beauty salon. Confident, like him.
Ten eagerly sets off down the street with graceful steps, pulling Johnny after him. And then Ten throws his perfect smile back over his shoulder, his eyes surprisingly bright against the dusk. Johnny’s heart soars, dancing on the breeze.
Johnny feels at ease. He thinks he could be a brand new person with Ten.