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When you first brought up the idea of washing Hastur’s hair, the demon was (unsurprisingly) resistant to the idea. It’s not that you want to change his demon image so to speak, but you can’t shake your desire to run your hands through the demon’s white blonde hair while you cuddle on the couch and you’re not doing that while it’s cake with hell-filth.
Having gotten to know Hastur pretty well at this point, it doesn’t take you long to figure out how to frame the idea in order to convince the demon to allow himself the experience.
“I could wash your hair for you and then we could relax on the couch while I tell you how handsome you are. That sounds like sloth and pride, to me,” You shrug.
It’s not that you’re trying to be manipulative and you know that Hastur wouldn’t let you do make him do anything that he truly didn’t want to, it’s just that the duke of hell is particularly stubborn about abstaining from doing anything that might make him seem soft or, god forbid, more like “one of those wank wings upstairs, rather than a proper demon.”
You watch as Hastur mulls the idea over for a moment before getting a little smirk on his face. “I do love myself a good sin.”
Actually having managed to get the demon into your shower and not wanting to waste such a rare achievement, you decide to take full advantage of the situation.
He strips down easily enough and gets into the shower without protest, but he gets a little apprehensive once the soap comes out. To his credit however, he allows you to wash his hair and even scrubs his body down when you squirt some body wash onto a scrubby and hand it to him.
“Alright, you’re too tall for me to reach very well. Can you turn around and tilt your head back?”
Hastur does as you ask, and you begin working the shampoo through his hair, really being thorough as you massage his scalp.
The demon makes a little humming noise and you laugh. “Are you purring?”
“You would be too, if you would climb in here with me,” he leers.
You snort. “Yeah, nice try. I know how skilled you are at derailing plans if I give you the opportunity.
He preens, pleased with your compliment of his skills.
“Alright,” you pat him on the shoulder. “Rinse all the soap off and I’ll grab you some clean clothes.”
On your way out of the bathroom you glance down at the pile of Hastur’s dirty clothes where he’d shed them onto the floor. After today he can put them back on if he so wishes, but you’re not cuddling on your clean couch with the grimey trench coat.
When you return with the pair of soft grey sweatpants and tshirt that you’d picked up with the vague thought of potential scenarios just like this, you find Hastur standing stark naked in the middle of your bathroom and dripping water onto the tile floor.
You roll your eyes. “You couldn’t have dried off?”
He shrugs, a little smirk on his face. “You didn’t tell me to. I was just following orders.”
“Uh huh. Here.” You toss him a towel and set the clean clothes down for him to grab when he’s ready. “I’m going to grab some blankets, come meet me in the living room when you’re dressed.”
Your place isn’t even cold, but you’re a sucker for soft things and you decide to use the excuse of sloth and indulgence that you’d used to sell your idea to Hastur. Armed with several blankets, you dump them all on the couch. You’re in the middle of arranging them into a comfy nest, when Hastur appears.
Most people probably wouldn’t refer to a demon as being ‘cute,’ but you can’t think of a more appropriate word to describe the man shaped being standing in your living room.
His hair is still damp and tousled, no doubt from the demon roughly swiping the towel over it, and you’re struck by how soft his hair looks. He almost looks downright approachable, clad in baggy sweatpants and a slightly too large red V-neck shirt.
Before meeting Hastur, you never would have expected to find a pair of black eyes comforting, but here you are.
Hastur is oddly agreeable in how he allows you to lead him over to the couch and arrange the two of you until you’re satisfied.
You settle on yourself lying horizontal across the couch with your head propped up by the arm and Hastur lying between your legs with his head resting on your chest.
“Do you want to watch something?”
Hastur just shrugs, so you grab the remote that is thankfully within reach on the coffee table, and start up an episode of the show that you’ve been rewatching lately. Good background noise, but not something that necessarily needs your full attention.
With one hand resting lightly on the demon’s chest, you begin carding through his hair with the other. It still isn’t completely dry, but you figure it probably will be before too long. One of the perks of having shorter hair is that it dries fast.
You relax into the blanket nest, half watching the show and half distracting yourself with the way the strands of Hastur’s hair slip through your fingers. You were right about it being soft, not that you would ever tell anyone. (You have to help protect your boyfriend’s reputation, after all.)
The demon sighs contentedly against your chest.
“Feeling slothful?” You tease.
“I believe I was promised you telling me how handsome I am?” He tips his head back to look up at you expectantly.
You can’t help your smile. Still petting his hair, you do as he wants. “You’re very handsome. And such a good boy for indulging me like this.” You test out the second half, curious to see how he’ll react to the notion of him being ‘good’.
Either the word doesn’t trip his moral alarms or he simply doesn’t care, because the only reaction you get is Hastur shutting his eyes and pushing his head into your hand.
You’re not sure if you’ve ever been as relaxed and content as you are right now. If this is the reaction you get, than maybe you’ll be able to convince Hastur to do this more often.