bakerstreet | Let's braid each other's hair

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[meme] shipping

Let's braid each other's hair

The Personal Hygiene Shipping Meme

Personal hygiene is just that - personal. By the time we've come to a point in our lives where we notice that the concept exists and we should be prudent about it, we can take care of ourselves. There are also many practical reasons why we don't involve other people in this process. We're not too keen on showing off parts to be cleaned that are private in most contexts, and there's definitely an ingrained aversion to showing so much soft, fleshy skin. Hot water or a sharp razor could spell dangerous with a capital D should they come into the hands of someone with a vendetta against you. No need to be extra vulnerable.

So, if you're involving another person in your cleansing routines, it must be someone you trust. Not only that, but it's most likely someone you're comfortable with and likely at least somewhat open to being intimate with. You may not be dropping all your clothing in front of them, but it's still you opening yourself up to touching and closeness unparalleled in more "usual" moments.

Established and burgeoning couples (or not-so-couples) can bond through this showing of care and good faith. Will you like being pampered and find the attention endearing? Or will things go terribly, terribly wrong?

...you never should have let them near that shaving cream.

Comment with your character and preferences.
Smut is not required. Mention if you want/don't want it.
Reply to others and use the RNG.

Comfort: You've decided to pitch in a helping hand to get your partner to unwind, and warm water or suds may do the trick.
Romantic: The sole purpose of this endeavor is to set a lovey-dovey mood. No shame here!
It Started Out Platonic...: What a good pal you are, volunteering to give your friend a good scrub. Of course, you didn't count on the cute way she squirms as you scrub her back or how he blushes when you shampoo his scalp.
No Choice: Currently, you're unable to clean yourself up. That means that you need assistance, and it might as well be the person you lov- tolerate the most.
Open: You have trust issues. Actually, you have backlogs of trust issues. Still, you want to show the person you love that you're willing and trying to change for them, and what better way than letting down your walls and having the assist in your grooming?
Shave: Whether it's your face, your legs, or...your other places you've decided to shave, there's a certain intimacy involved in letting your lover do it for you. Let's hope they won't leave you looking like you got into a battle with a book with the paper cuts to prove it.
Reluctant: They want to get you clean. You don't want to show off your body at all. It's injured, it looks weird, what if they don't like it...
Forced: You love them, you really do, but you won't kiss them if they continue to look like an unwashed hobo clown. You have to draw the line somewhere, and if they won't take action, you will.
Beat Up: You've been trampled in a fight. Your partner isn't about to let you wallow around in your own mud and blood.
Hair: Some find that there's nothing quite as soothing as getting their hair washed or brushed. Of course, those with more luxurious locks may find any hair care a burden, so the assistance is appreciated.
Make Up: They think you're beautiful already. See how they'll paint you up when they get the chance.
Unique: If you're not human, you probably have your own proceeders you have to do to keep all spiffied up. There are wings with stray feathers to pluck, horns on heads to polish, scales to shave down, all sorts of tasks! Introduce your ignorant (and most likely human) boyfriend or girlfriend to your world...and your pain.
Accommodations: Those with disabilities or prosthetics may also have their own routines, and anyone who wants to be with them should learn how to pitch in.
Sponge Bath: You don't have enough water to do this right or you just want to give them a nice rub and scrub with a gentle sponge or wash cloth.
Wound Care: In order for wounds to heal, proper care must be taken. Bandages have to be changed and cuts cleaned out. It's certainly easier when you don't have to do it all by yourself.
Together: You're both cleaning up, taking a bath, splish splash, in the same tub because there's no where else to go. This is the most likely smut option, even if, again, it starts off "platonic."
Clothing: Don't forget that clean clothes are an important part of personal hygiene. Always make sure your partner has a nice, fresh outfit, even if it's to your taste and not theirs.
I've Made a Terrible Mistake: Somehow, everything's now shit. This little experiment went haywire and you may be sporting anything from the worst hairdo of your life to a Columbian necktie.
FREE SPACE

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Nicky had taken the time to both sweep up the shards of glass that had fallen from Ganymede's hair, but also to make sure he wasn't sporting any, or any stray splinters. They would work themselves out eventually if he was, he knew that, but waiting for them to do so was always uncomfortable, because healing itched that was, ultimately, how a person knew it was happening, but healing as quickly as Nicky did made those small pieces being ejected all the more uncomfortable.

At the voice he glanced up from where he'd been sorting out clean clothes from his bag, brow creasing at the state of the bruise, because while it was obviously healing faster than it would in a regular human, it definitely didn't look comfortable, "Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"I've lived with worse," Ganymede answered, looking down at the bruise and gently prodding it with his fingertips. "Hurts less than being hanged. Slightly more than being unhorsed," he murmured lightly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I promise, it will heal just fine by morning. Tomorrow afternoon by the latest," he sighed. "Unfortunately my immortality was never designed to keep me from sustaining harm. Just enough to keep me from dying from it, and thus of being no further use. Broken toys aren't nearly as fun to play with."

He nodded once, willing to accept the answer, though he would likely be keeping track of the injury himself, just in case. If nothing else it would give him a better incentive in future to actually pay attention to when things were going to erupt and get them both out of the way before they did.

Another nod was given as he straightened, "Alright, I won't be long." A nod towards the backpack he used as a day-bag -versus the duffel he used for everything- as he said, "There's a bottle of ouzo if you think it will help."

True to his word, he didn't take long in the shower, really just long enough to make sure the water ran clear and there wasn't any dried blood left in his hair or anywhere unexpected. When he emerged it was with the other bath towel around his waist, rubbing one of he hand towels across his hair to dry it, sending it into the downy disarray of a baby bird's feathers.

When Nicky came out again, he'd find Ganymede in a slightly more dressed state; he'd pulled on sleep pants as he was reorganizing his bag, a two-foot length of something wrapped in leather laid on the bed beside him. The offered ouzo was still in the bag--though lessened by a swallow or two.

He had to laugh at the way Nicky's hair behaved after being toweled off, hands stilling as he watched. "You look like you stuck a fork in a live socket," he chuckled, unable to not find the look disarmingly cute. "Let me comb it for you before it sticks like that." It hadn't been intended as a question, but the lilted offer was genuine. "You could have taken longer if you wanted."

"Could have." He agreed with a nod, turning to sling the hand towel back into the bathroom, "No reason to though." His brow arched just a little at the offer, however, and at what he assumed to be a weapon on the bed, though for the time being he could leave that be.

"Alright, you may, but only if you'll allow me to plait yours before it all dries with a loop in it." The knot was fine for keeping it together and out of the way, but it would definitely leave an odd bend if it was allowed to fully dry that way.

"It's a sword," he answered that look, picking it up and showing the handle end before sticking it securely down the side of his bag, where it wouldn't take up much room and could still be accessed. "But it's easier to repack without it getting in the way."

Ganymede scooted back, making enough room for Nicky to sit in front of him. "You can plait it if you like," he said more quietly, picking up the comb to work out the little twists and tangles that would inevitably come from rubbing cotton terrycloth on one's head. He liked being able to take care of people, though, hands and motions gentle as he tilted Nicky's head back a bit. "Yours is rather adorable all fluffed up, though."

"Ah, I'd thought that or a bow, though it would be quite compact if it were the latter." Quynh had always managed to stash hers in smaller spaces than Nicky would have thought, so he wouldn't have been much surprised either way.

Lounge pants were pulled on and the towel tossed at least towards the bathroom before he settled, letting his head tilt easily into the other man's apparently talented fingers. Though he couldn't help the soft laugh at the statement, "Adorable, is it? I believe that may be the first time I've been called so."

"It's short, only seventeen inches or so cutting length. But it's fast and cuts deep when I need it to." He shrugged. "You can take it out if you'd like, but it's hardly all that impressive." That was the major reason why Ganymede liked it so much; it was easy to underestimate a weapon that was barely two feet long, and held by someone like him. Invariably that was a poor decision on his opponent's part.

"If someone hasn't called you adorable yet, I absolutely refuse to believe it's for anything other than lack of trying," Ganymede answered. "I like it, the fluff suits you. Like a baby chick." (He was firm on the notion that anyone who though chickens were cute birds had a mental defect.) "Though I would be delighted to be your first."

He had settled easily enough, one hand light on Ganymede's calf, comfortable, just resting there for the moment though given as how hands in his hair were a surefire way to make him melt a little, it wouldn't be long before he was petting in return, "Ah, that may be what Joe actually means when he says I look like a misplaced duckling."

He turned his head just far enough to actually meet the other man's yes, just for a moment, brow quirking before he settled again to let the combing continue, "You say that as if you've not been my first in other ways already." One way, at any rate, but an important one.

Ganymede smiled quietly as the attention to his hair made Nicky relax, happy to keep giving it even once the tangles were out; he didn't smooth it down too much with the comb, fingertips abently fluffing the ends still as he spoke. "Well, I'd bet on that or that he wants to take you home. Seems a fair conclusion," he murmured.

Both hands moved up to let him lean around Nicky's shoulder. "Oh, have I now?" he asked. "I'm not the first immortal you've met, hopefully not the first you've gotten into a barfight with...maybe I'll settle for something smaller?" Like a kiss to Nicky's cheek before he settles back.

His brow creased as if he were truly puzzled, glancing downward briefly before answering: "Not so small." Tone matter-of-fact as it had been before, and it was only the utter merriment behind his eyes that gave it away.

He had, apparently gone all the way through the innuendo and into the blatant, if more than just half-joking dick-measuring.

That got a little chuckle; in all honesty Ganymede had only meant to say he would content himself with a less demonstrative affection, but if Nicky was going to open the door like that, he would happily walk through it.

"Well, what is it they say? It's not the size of the wand but the skill of the wizard?" he teased, letting his chin rest on Nicky's shoulder with an impish smile still firmly in place. He hummed thoughtfully, dragging his fingertips through Nicky's short hair and brushing down the length of his neck lightly. "Perhaps I should ask for a demonstration."

"I don't believe that is one I have heard, but the sentiment is the same." He agreed with a broad smile, "And you could." He continued after a contented little hum in the back of his throat, the sound dangerously close to an actual purr, "But I believe I've a favor to return first, otherwise you won't simply have a loop, but risk an entire nest for rats."

It had been some time since he'd had the chance to braid anyone's hair, Andy had almost always kept hers short or dealt with it herself, and while Booker had kept his long for a while he only rarely let anyone else near it, and it had been decades since Joe had let his grow out to where it could actually be braided.

He liked that almost-purr, and Ganymede cocked his head at the comments about his hair. "I would beg your pardon, but I make a point of at least getting a proper kiss before we get to begging for anything," he said, scooting back and freeing his hair from the knot it was in, sending the still damp dark length of it down his back.

"Shall I turn my back for you, or do you want me on the floor?"

"However you are most comfortable." He replied, though the flash of a smile darted across his face before he added: "I'm flexible, one of my better qualities."

It truly didn't matter to him either way, and once Ganymede had settled, Nicky started in with just smoothing his hair out first, always with one hand to hold the hair he was working on so as not to yank at Ganymede's scalp any while the other manipulated the comb. Once he was able to run almost full-length sweeps of the comb through the other man's hair, he set the comb aside to section his hair off, fingers rubbing against his scalp as he did so.

He'd begun to relax when Nicky had started to untangle the knots; Ganymede had always liked people touching his hair, and to an extent gently tugging on it. He let out a shallow, soft hum of pleasure as his hair was sectioned into strands, tilting his head back to make it easier.

"You have lovely hands," he murmured. "Very gentle."

He hummed softly at the statement, debating just what he was going to do here and deciding on four strands, starting up high on the back of Ganymede's head instead of the straight-out three stranded plait he'd initially intended.

It had been a while since he'd been able to do this to anyone, and he wanted to know that he hadn't lost the skill for it, finding quite readily that he hadn't, muscle memory was with him as he worked, and he even maintained the four strands as he got to the longer end of the other man's hair, tying it off tidily and just admiring his handiwork for a moment before giving the trailing plait a gentle two-beat tug, "Finished."

While Nicky worked, Ganymede had purposefully let his mind wander, letting the Italian direct where his head lolled by the gentle motions of his hair. He was relaxed, head bent forward when Nicky had tugged on his hair, and that had certainly gotten a reaction.

It would have been easy given their encounter with the barfight earlier to mistake the sharp intake of breath and the shudder that crawled up Ganymede's spine for pain; but the way his wrists flexed, fingers curled into the bedcover, gave an entirely different message. His breath came deeper, back flexing into an elegant curve that left him resting on his arms, eyes half-shut. His throat worked for a handful of seconds silently until a reply seemed necessary.

"Keep doing that and you'll be starting something," he murmured, turning his head but making no effort to tug his braid away from Nicky's hands.

That wasn't the reaction he'd been expecting, not at all and he couldn't help but smile at the murmur of warning, his head tilting and both brows lifting as he asked: "Something you'd regret?" He didn't plan on regretting anything except maybe not getting out of the bar a few minutes sooner, but there wasn't anything he could do about that now, they'd both made it out in one piece and that was the important thing.

He hadn't given another tug on that braid, but he hadn't let go of it yet, either, debating doing so even before he got an answer, but deciding against it, at least for now.

He considered it only enough to be sure--it didn't take long--and shook his head slowly, giving Nicky a sloe-eyed look over his shoulder and a soft grin. "No," he answered, fingertips spreading enough to brush Nicky's thigh.

Sex was sex, friendship was friendship, and while the two often had a messy connecting edge Ganymede was well aware neither of them were star-crossed, at least not to each other. But that didn't mean they couldn't pursue something.

It would be a pleasant way to unwind from the evening's unexpected turn, that much was obvious, and if it ended up being something that happened with more regularity as they continued to travel together, all the better.

"Good." He replied, voice having dipped just a little, "Nor will I." He just wrapped his hand up once in a loop of the braid he'd just finished, applying a steady tension as he did so, slow and inexorable instead of a sudden sharp tug.

Ganymede sighed as the tension from Nicky's hand in his hair made him tilt back, slowly shifting to his elbows and looking up at the man with half-closed but alert eyes. His lips parted as he tilted his head back.

"And now that you have me here?" Ganymede asked, practically laid back in the man's lap.

He made a thoughtful sound, as if considering that question, finally bringing his free hand up to cradle the underside of Ganymede's chin, thumb stroking an easy back and forth along the line of his jaw before leaning in to claim a kiss, one that was at a bit of an awkward angle, given their respective positions, and giving his new companion every chance to move away if he was going to, though Nicky didn't think he was.

Some kind of lingering tension slid from his shoulders as the kiss connected, and held for a moment before he withdrew, smiling, and just far enough to say: "I'll have to do something like that, I suppose."

He certainly didn't move away. Ganymede smiled gently when he felt that hand under his jaw, going easily with the tilting motion to fit against Nicky's mouth. It was a good kiss, warm and sweet and unhurried: he brushed his fingers over Nicky's cheek and around the back of his neck to hold him there just a second longer.

"I suppose I'll have to reciprocate," Ganymede murmured, voice barely loud enough to carry to his friend. He moved up to steal another kiss, twisting just enough that they were both upright, more or less. "Your lips still taste like the bar."

He made a soft sound at that hand at his nape, surprise, but not discomfort of any kind, if anything it had him relaxing further, actually needing a moment to parse what Ganymede had said.

He flashed a smile even as he let go of the loop of braid wound around his hand, making it easier for Ganymede to sit upright, though what he said in response was: "Considering the number of times you stole my drink, I somehow don't believe you mind it." It had only been twice, and hadn't been the whole drink, just sips, but that was beside the point at the moment.

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