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“Would you let me?”
Neuvillette is sitting on the bed, comfortable in his fluffiest sweater, while he smiles at the younger man tenderly. He’s brushing his long hair with a serene expression on his porcelain face, the wooden brush going through his slightly curlier locks with dedication and precision.
Wriothesley is mesmerized.
“Of course, my love.” says the judge eventually, and Wriothesley sits next to him, caressing his silvery hair before getting the brush from his lover.
“Your hair is majestic, I always wonder how you can keep it this long and healthy.” he murmurs, starting with methodic movements himself, letting the brush navigate through the sea of stars which is Neuvillette’s mane.
“I have my secrets.” the older man smirks at him, his cheeks rosy in a way that makes him look even more beautiful, and Wriothesley wonders how that’s even possible.
“Keep your secret, your Honour.” His hands are now going through his lover’s hair and with a little more effort he starts braiding it, remembering the times when he used to do it to his sisters in the ugly London suburbs. Now he’s with the most beautiful man he’s ever seen in a fancy flat in Paris, funny how life changes.
“Mh, you made me sleepy, dear.” Neuvillette mumbles, his arms circling Wriothesley’s torso and his head resting on his broad chest. The younger man kisses him on a temple and on his beautiful hair, murmuring sweet nothings while inhaling the scent of vanilla and sea salt Neuvillette always has.
They fall asleep in each other’s arms without even realising it.