"Your hair is getting long, mage." Lyrium-lined fingers tangled in the honey-blonde strands, mussing the already haphazard bun that Anders had recently taken to wearing, before pulling the leather tie loose that held the mage's hair up. Ander's hair spilled down past his shoulders in a wave to tickle his collarbone. The mage stirred from his sprawled position by the fire to lift his head from his hand, amber eyes sliding up to meet Fenris' green.
"You woke me up to tell me that? I was just starting to doze." Fenris huffed and slid his fingers back into Anders' hair, threading through it and untangling the little knots that had formed throughout the day.
"You should know that I often wake with your hair in my face. Sometimes quite literally in my mouth, in fact."
"Maybe you'd like to wake up with something else in your mouth," Anders quipped, waggling his eyebrows at the elf. Fenris scoffed and tugged on the hair curled around his fingers.
"If you feel like fulfilling your death wish, mage, I would be happy to oblige you." Anders just chuckled and let his eyes drop, contented by the warmth of the fire and the calming tug and release of Fenris' fingers in his hair.
"If it bothers you that much, I can get it cut."
"No." Fenris' response was immediate and firm. Perhaps a little too much. He cleared his throat. "It is only a mild irritant. I am used to those, having you around all the time." He added a scrape of nail against Anders' scalp, and the man practically began to purr.
"Admit it, you like my hair long. Gives you something to grab onto when you're pounding my ass like a drum." Fenris wasn't about to admit that he also enjoyed seeing the mage's hair fanned out on the pillow during their tumbles, Anders sweaty and breathless beneath him. He let his silence speak for him, and Anders grinned. "I knew it. You can be pretty easy to read sometimes." Fenris tugged sharper on the mage's hair.
"Fool mage. The only one here who is easy is you." Anders laughed and leaned his head into Fenris' hand.
"Only with you."