52. Hair Lullaby (Mileven)

A/N: Hey, guys. I'm back! Did you see the trailer yet?! I can't wait for July 4th, omg. So, this isn't anyone's Prompt (or a prompt at all). It's a deleted scene from my other story. Check it out if you haven't yet.

"Just, fyi, I have access to parts of you that I know make you weak on the knees if you burn me."

She chuckles softly, closing her fingers over the strand of long hair. "I'm not going to burn you. I've been doing this for years."

"You've been doing other boys' hairs for years?" He teases quietly as he feels the heat on his head. His hands are gripping her hips, fingers toying with the unused belt loop in her jeans as she stands between his legs.

"Yes." El leans back a little bit as she passes the straightener down the strand, flattening the curls. "I'm a secret hair dresser."

"Must be why your hair's so nice."

He smirks as he watches her smile in the mirror, her eyes focused on the task at hand. The little bench of the vanity is soft underneath his backside, the pillow-y cushion hiding the hardness of the seat as he observes her work.

He'd arrived about an hour ago, greeting her Dad at the door and feeling relieved when he confirmed Terry wasn't home yet. El had tugged him upstairs into her room, and after a few minutes of quiet chatter while they laid on her bed, she had come to the abrupt conclusion that his hair had to be flat ironed.

"I need to do it." El had said very seriously.

So, here he was: sitting in front of her vanity table, eying the various bottles of perfumes and creams in front of him while his girlfriend straightened his hair. Was it out of boredom? Yes. Was he enjoying it? Not really. He'd rather be back in bed with her, with his scalp at a normal temperature and his back on the mattress.

"Will this give me points with your mom?"

"I don't know." El murmurs without much commitment as she takes another bundle of curls between her fingers. "We'll have to wait for the finished look, I guess."

"I want to look hot." He peers up at her, grinning as she giggles.

He was trying to look at ease, getting lost in her soft touches and the warmth of her body against his palms, and it seems to be working, otherwise his leg would be shooting up and down in nerves.

A couple of more minutes passed in silence, El taking more and more curls and taming them into silky strands of raven hair as Mike was lulled into drowsiness, his head falling against her chest and his hands hanging limply from the belt loops.

"Mike, I can't finish if your hair is all smashed between us." El tuts softly, moving the flat iron out of the way to press a kiss to his warm head. Inhaling his scent, and smiling at the way his shoulders move gently, she stays there for a second. "Mike."

"Leave it." He mutters without opening his eyes.

"It'll look weird."

Mike slowly separates from her, blinking owlishly at his reflection before he turns back to face her. "I look ridiculous, Hopper."

El barks out a laugh at his disgruntled face. "No, you don't! You're just not used to it."

"Hurry up and finish so I can sleep a bit more before dinner." He nearly whines, gripping her hips to sway her into action.

"Okay," she nods as she keeps on laughing, taking another piece of hair and closing the straightener around it. "I'll try to be fast."

"Try not to laugh either." That only prompts her into a fit of more giggles, which she tries to suppress.

She carries on with the straightener, using her free hand to grip the roots of his hair to put tension in it. It was something she had been wanting to do.

Her father didn't have a lot of hair, although he did let them do his makeup when she and Sara were younger. Still, she never got the chance to do a boy's hair before. Mike's hair had a mind of its own. Every curl pointed in a different direction, and the smooth exterior of them always felt soft and nice through her fingers.

"I'm done." She whispers after a while, putting the flat iron on her vanity.

"Am I a stud yet?" He stands up from his seat, stretching his hands towards the ceiling as his back gives a satisfactory crack. He frowns at his reflection once he turns towards the mirror. "This is not me."

"Shut up, who else would it be?" El smacks his lower back, leaning against his side to join him while he stares at himself. He lifts a hand to touch his newly tamed hair, experiencing the new sensation of having no curls.

"I feel weird."

"You look good, though." His girlfriend chuckles, touching the back of his head. "Your natural volume prevents it from being limp. It gives it a lot of body."

"I suppose." He looks down at her, scowling briefly at the laugh she gives him, before he takes her hand. "I was promised a nap."

El nods, a smile still on her lips, and she nudges him to her bed.

"Will you sing to me?" Mike asks as he slips against her pillows, face down.

"What do you want me to sing for you?"

"Anything."

"I'll think about it." She says as she snuggles up against him, placing a hand on his back. She begins to touch the tips of his hair, moving slowly up the longs strands until she reaches the roots. She slips her fingertips trough them, massaging his scalp as his breathing turns deeper.

She has learned this is the most effective way to put him to sleep. Her hands on his hair relaxes him to the point of slumber, and the sight of his fluttering eyelashes never fails to put a smile on her face.

A song makes its way to the very tip of her tongue, and she decides to sing it while his eyes are closing up.

"It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside," she begins, her voice a touch away from a whisper. "I'm not one of those who can easily hide..."

His eyes spring apart to watch her, a sleepy smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and she traces the shape of his eyebrow to lull him back to sleep. She continues singing, breathing slowly as Mike shuts his eyes again.

"Don't have much money, but boy if I did, I'd buy a big house where we both could live..."