*** Berwick is 19, Duke is 28.
Just a typical day off for a certain sorcerer and his boyfriend. Normally, they would be journeying right now with their comrades, but even warriors needed days to rest.
“Morning, Duke,” waved Berwick. Coming out into the garden with a spell book in hand, Berwick decided to plant himself in Duke’s lap. He let out a yawn, shortly before opening his book to page fifty-five.
“Is that my shirt you’re wearing, Berwick?” Duke questioned with a grimace on his face. “That’s not your colour,” chuckled Duke. “I never see you wear anything purple.”
“Mmm…but it smells of you,” replied Berwick with a smirk. “Would you like to do my hair?” Berwick changed the subject.
“Sure, why not?”
Placing a pile of bows and ribbons onto the bench beside Duke, the younger lad pulled out the hairband that he was currently wearing in his hair. It was a black band that tied his long strands together, and when untied, Berwick’s long back hair trailed down his back like a river.
“I love cuddles with you in the morning,” remarked Berwick. His gaze was glued to the page he was reading, and all he could feel behind him were gentle strokes on his hair.
These strokes felt nice.
He felt so cosy in Duke’s lap. Berwick loved wearing Duke’s shirt. It was an oversized shirt that extended to his knees, and the sleeves were so baggy on Berwick’s skinny arms. Berwick was shorter, smaller than Duke.
“Hmph,” huffed Berwick. “I can never understand this spell. Rosetta explained it to me but still, I can never understand it. Every time I try to practice this spell; it just goes wrong.”
“Don’t try burning the house down,” joked Duke. “You have to remember that you and Rosetta are different elements – different magics.”
“But still,” he let out another huff. Berwick continued to read this one spell over and over again, just mumbling it under his breath. Of course, he wasn’t planning on casting any spells inside or around the house.
Brushing a comb through Berwick’s long black locks, Duke was too busy playing with his boyfriend’s hair. It was like a river of black that fell down his back. Duke picked out a scarlet bow and used it to clip back Berwick’s fringe.
“I just wonder how you can cast so much fire magic with hair like this,” commented Duke with a soft chuckle in his deep voice. He brushed those long black locks, shortly before he tied those silky long tresses with a coloured hairband. “Huh, Berwick? Don’t you ever struggle to see with that long fringe of yours? It practically covers your face.”
Laughing at Duke’s remark, Berwick’s face reddened in embarrassment. “That’s quite hypocritical of you, Duke. I mean, you have long hair, too,” he smirked. “And you never tie it up before battle.”
Duke shot back, “Big difference: your hair is longer.”
“But still,” replied Berwick. He didn’t really know what else to say to Duke’s statement. “I’m a sorcerer, and you…well…you just break enemies…with a sword. I thought you would tie your hair up for that.”
“Is that all you can say about me?” Duke questioned with a snicker, still playing with the lad’s long hair.
“I wonder how Vox can fight with those earrings,” mentioned Berwick. “I mean, he wears hooped earrings in sword fights. They’re really noticeable.”
“Bringing Vox into this I see,” cackled Duke as he shook his head. “It’s just typical of you to change the subject, hm?”
“Well, I…um,” Berwick just pursed his lips shut. He mumbled, now keeping his full attention locked on the spell book he was reading.
Duke really knew how to make Berwick blush.
Wrapping a ribbon around that hairband, Duke tied this red ribbon into a bow. It was quite a struggle for his large hands to loop this ribbon, but Duke tried his best to make Berwick’s hair look pretty.
It was a day off for them.
No battles and no teamwork for them to worry about.
So, Berwick could wear his hair how he wanted on his days off, even if it meant decorating his hair in ribbons; bows, and girly hairstyles.
Pulling Berwick closer to his chest, Duke cuddled the younger lad from behind. He planted a peck onto Berwick’s cheek. “Hm, you’re so pretty,” snickered Duke. “Why don’t you look at yourself in the mirror, Berwick?”
“Sure, I’ll have a look.”
“Red is definitely your colour, don’t you think? Not purple,” mentioned Duke.