The nightmare by Baldbearded

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The Nightmare

Dean had a recurring nightmare, ever since he could remember. In the nightmare, it was always the same scenario: his hair would fall out, and he would be bald. Not completely bald, but the kind of baldness that comes with male pattern baldness (MPB), leaving him with just a fringe of hair. There was no real reason for Dean to fear going bald. His father had a full head of hair, as did his uncles and both grandfathers.

Dean wore his hair on the longer side, and his parents didn’t care how he dressed or styled it. They believed that raising a happy child was the most important thing. Despite having lots of freedom, he was disciplined and did well in school. Dean excelled in high school and was accepted to UCLA on a full scholarship, which made his friends and family happy, as it meant he’d stay close to home.

Dean moved into the dorms, and his roommate was Stan. Stan was from New York, and he had the accent to back it up. Tall, handsome, with a dark short beard and a shaved head, Stan immediately fascinated Dean. He found himself staring at Stan’s smooth scalp.

"Hey, I’m Stan. How you doin’?" Stan said, extending a huge hand for a firm handshake.

As they unpacked, they chatted. It turned out Stan was from Brooklyn and was the first in his family to go to college. Dean was caught off guard when he saw the posters Stan put up on his side of the room—large black-and-white images of muscular men. Stan noticed Dean staring at the posters and smiled.

"You know you signed up for a gay roommate, right?" Stan said.

Dean remembered when he filled out the roommate form, he had left the section on sexuality blank and chose "doesn’t matter" for room preference. UCLA liked to match LGBTQ+ students with compatible roommates to make it easier for them to adjust, especially for incoming freshmen.

"Oh, yeah, it’s fine. But I’m not gay," Dean replied.

"I didn’t request a gay roommate, just put down that I’m gay. All I ask is that you don’t bring girls back to the room, and I won’t bring guys back either."

Dean agreed. To be honest, he wasn’t into girls or boys much; he had spent so much of his time in junior high and high school studying that he didn’t really date. His friends were the same, and his parents never pushed him.

After unpacking, Dean went off to explore the campus.

That evening, Dean and Stan talked about home and their families, comparing experiences before going to sleep. That night, Dean had the same nightmare, but this time, instead of seeing himself, he saw Stan. Stan had a full head of black hair, but as the nightmare progressed, it followed the same disturbing pattern: hair in the comb, on the pillow, in the shower, and then facing yourself in the mirror, bald.

Dean woke with a start to the sound of buzzing. Stan was standing half-naked in front of the mirror, running an electric razor around the back of his head.

"Sorry I woke you, but I need to be smooth for the first day of class," Stan said. Dean wasn’t sure what startled him more—the head shaving or Stan’s muscular body that matched the posters on the wall.

"Do you do that every day?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, just the back and sides. Nothing grows on top. If I don’t, I look like my dad."

Dean was surprised. Someone his age was completely bald on top, just like in his nightmares.

"Wow, bald at 18," Dean remarked.

Stan laughed. "Well, the same genetics gave me this," he said, tugging at his thick beard and then lifting one of his muscular, hairy legs.

Dean showered and dressed before joining Stan for breakfast. Over the following weeks, the two became good friends. Dean found himself increasingly fascinated by Stan—his thick beard, his smooth, bald head. On the nights when Dean didn’t have the recurring nightmare (now featuring Stan going bald), he would dream about Stan.

Eventually, Dean started growing a beard of his own, and he joined Stan at the gym for daily workouts after class. By midterms, Dean had a short beard and was starting to develop some definition. By finals, he had a thick beard like Stan’s and was almost as muscular.

Dean knew he was falling for Stan but was afraid to say anything and risk ruining their friendship.

One thing Dean started to notice was that his hair was thinning. It wasn’t much—just a little more hair in his brush and a few strands in the shower drain. He thought nothing of it, assuming it was because his hair was longer and needed a cut.

Over winter break, Stan flew back to New York, and Dean went home to celebrate the holidays with his family. His mom, who normally didn’t comment on his appearance, mentioned his hair. "Sweetie, the beard is very masculine, but you need a trim. You’re looking a bit unkempt." Dean agreed and made an appointment at the barbershop he’d gone to once or twice a year for a trim.

The barber, Brent, was about the same age as his dad. After Dean was seated and caped, Brent combed through Dean’s now shoulder-length hair. He was startled to see so many strands in the comb.

"Dean, are you taking care of your diet?" Brent asked.

Dean stared at the comb, shocked to see so much hair in it. "Well, I mean, I eat well. I’ve started working out."

Brent continued combing. "You need to change your diet. Your body’s not getting proper nutrition, and it’s making your hair fall out."

After the trim, Dean told his parents what the barber had said. His dad made an appointment for Dean to see a dermatologist before returning to school.

The nightmares continued, but now it was Dean’s face he saw, not Stan’s. Every night, he’d lose massive clumps of hair in the nightmare, waking up in a cold sweat.

The dermatologist ran some tests, and when the results came back, everything was normal. The doctor explained that the increase in androgens from working out had likely triggered Androgenetic Alopecia—male pattern baldness. He discussed treatment options and their side effects, but it was all too much for Dean to handle. His nightmare was becoming a reality.

The holidays were tough for Dean. Normally cheerful, he was now withdrawn. His family, unable to relate, couldn’t offer much comfort. He just wanted to go back to school. More than anything, he missed Stan.

The spring semester began, and Dean was thrilled to see Stan again. Stan returned with his bald head shiny and his black beard even longer. As they resumed their routine, Dean’s nightmares didn’t stop, nor did his growing attraction to Stan.

One evening after working out, they were showering when Stan noticed the drain backing up.

"Dean, something’s clogging the drain," Stan said, pulling out a massive clump of hair. "Is this yours?"

Dean was in shock and couldn’t respond.

"Dude, are you losing your hair?" Stan turned Dean around, inspecting the back of his head. Sure enough, there was a bald spot the size of a golf ball.

"Dry off, get dressed, and let’s go back to the dorm. I know how to handle this," Stan said.

Dean, almost in a state of shock, let Stan lead him back to the dorm. Stan grabbed a chair and told Dean to sit. He took out a small black kit.

"What are you doing?" Dean finally asked.

"I’m going to take care of you, like my dad took care of me," Stan replied.

Dean knew what was about to happen—his nightmare was coming true. Stan took out a comb and began running it through Dean’s thinning hair. More hair came out with every stroke. There was not only a bald spot at the crown but also noticeable recession at the front.

Next, Stan pulled out his unused beard trimmer. Removing the guard, he placed the clippers at Dean’s forehead.

"Are you ready? Do you trust me?" Stan asked.

"Yes. Go ahead," Dean said.

Dean jumped as the clippers buzzed to life. Stan moved the clippers through Dean’s hair, sending light-brown strands falling to the floor. To Dean’s surprise, dread gave way to excitement—he was going to look like Stan. He wanted to look like Stan.

As Stan continued shaving, Dean started shaking. Stan didn’t seem to notice and focused on removing the rest of Dean’s hair. When the buzzing finally stopped, Stan took out an electric razor.

It was really happening—Stan was going to shave his head bald.

Without asking, Stan began removing the remaining stubble from Dean’s head. Dean, overwhelmed with arousal, felt like he was going to explode. After the razor clicked off, Stan applied lotion to Dean’s smooth scalp, rubbing it in. It was too much for Dean. He stood up, grabbed Stan, and kissed him deeply.

Stan didn’t resist. Instead, he kissed back, passionately. That was it—Dean couldn’t hold back any longer. Years of fear, pent-up sexuality, and his nightmare-turned-reality all came to a head.

"What’s so funny?" Dean asked after catching his breath.

"You, babe. I was wondering how long it would take you. I was going to wait until spring break before I made a move, but now it’s my turn."

From then on, they stayed roommates, with their two single beds pushed together. Every morning, the sound of buzzing filled the room as they shaved each other’s heads smooth.

Dean no longer has nightmares, now they are sweet dreams.

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