Work Text:
Nathaniel and Marc were laying in bed together, the writer slowly brushing through his boyfriend’s hair tenderly with an adoring smile. The artist laughed, leaning more into the touch.
“Hey, babe, you always do it to me. Can I do it back?”
“Huh? Sure.”
Nathaniel reached up and ran his fingers through Marc’s hair, although he paused when his hand got caught on some knots.
Marc blushed, looking away, a little embarrassed, “Sorry, I just kinda don’t. Brush my hair? Like I still wash it and stuff, I just skip that part.”
“Really?”
“I mean, not like anyone’s noticed so far, right?”
Nathaniel sat up, hopping off the head and heading to the restroom, “Go sit on the edge of the bed for me, thanks!”
The writer blinked, confused, although still complying with the request. His boyfriend walked back into the room, settling behind him. He yelped as he felt something touch his head without warning.
”Calm down,” Nathaniel said, continuing the motion, “I’m just brushing your hair.”
Marc shifted his gaze downwards, embarrassed. Nathaniel placed a quick kiss on his cheek, making him blush for a different reason.
As time went on, Marc started enjoying the process. It actually turned out to be really relaxing. Just letting someone comb through his hair felt nice. Marc thought he could drift off at any moment…
---
When Marc woke up, he was staring at the ceiling. He blinked, confused. Wasn't he...?
Marc sat up, noticing how the blankets on the bed were tucked over him.
Nathaniel looked over at him from his desk, smiling, "Oh hey, you're awake! You kinda fell asleep on me." He didn't seem mad though, considering the (cute, very cute) giggle that followed soon after. The artist stood up, rushing over to Marc and getting him up on his feet to drag him into the bathroom, “Come look!”
“We kinda have the same hair length now,” Nathaniel grinned, suddenly perking up “Oh, hey, you should let me braid your hair!”
Marc fiddled with the bottom of his locks, “Would it look good?”
“Won’t know unless we try,” Nathaniel smiled at him, grabbing a hair-tie off the counter.
---
Marc had almost fallen asleep again as Nathaniel braided his hair. Maybe because being around him made Marc feel safe, who knows.
“I’m done,” Nathaniel said, snapping Marc out of his drowsy state. He handed his phone over to Marc, having taken a picture at some point.
The writer ran a hand over the braid on his head as he stared down at the image, “It looks nice.”
“Right? You should braid your hair more often.”
Marc turned back with a smile, “Only if you do it for me.”