Work Text:
"Hey, hey, It looks marvelous on you, Doffy," Trebol cooed. He leaned down, his thin, clever hands carefully adjusting the hems of the new coat on Doffy's shoulders. He licked his thumb and straightened the feathers.
"You're only saying that because you're a fiend for big coats," Doffy teased. He preened in the mirror, watching the feathers rustle and shine, giving him the look of some enormous tropical bird. "But you're right, it does."
"I'm wounded, Doffy! Accusing me of mere flattery." But Trebol was smiling too, and as he straightened the feathers again, his arm lingered on Doffy's shoulders.