Wash

Lucien Pike says his secretary needs a haircut.

600w, Lucien Pike/Gellert Osgodby. Just a short vignette with some intimacy between the two of them.

“You need a haircut,” said Pike.

“I hardly see how that’s any of my concern,” Gellert retorted, not looking up from his tablet where he was going through one of the ledgers with a stylus. “I’m not the one that cuts it.”

When Pike came up behind him, he gripped Gellert not by the shoulder but by the hair, and Gellert let out an irritable noise, but let himself be pulled up from the desk and into the bathroom.

Pike not irregularly declared that Gellert was in need of a haircut. Perhaps, now and then, it was even true — Gellert always got his hair cut very sporadically, normally once it started growing past his ears and he noticed it; as a child, it would be his mother who decided he needed it cut.

When he’d been sleeping with Courageous King, Courageous would normally make a double appointment at his barber — he knew that Gellert didn’t much like making small talk at the barber, and as an act of chivalry (Courageous was, suitably, very adept at such things) would engage both his own barber and Gellert’s in chat at once.

That wasn’t a problem that Gellert had anymore, of course, since coming to work for Mr Pike.

Pike already had a bath almost run when they got into the bathroom — evidently, he’d poured salts into it and got it running before coming to get him. Pike cut his own hair, and although he didn’t cut his coworkers’ hair on a regular basis, he occasionally cut someone’s hair if they were in a bind — or, occasionally, would shave Yves’ head for him if he’d been staying at the hospital a few days and hadn’t had the time.

He didn’t ordinarily cut his children’s hair, even, those that regularly worked in close quarters with them — though Gellert had heard, from time to time, Cosmo very sweetly asking if Pike would please cut his hair for him, which he typically then did, and once he cut Cosmo’s hair, he would ordinarily cut Damien’s as well. They were twins, after all, Cosmo would insist, and they had to match, although they wore their hair differently in any case — Cosmo’s hair was down to his shoulders, more like his father’s, and Damien’s cut just a little longer than his ears.

The bath came first: Pike enjoyed washing Gellert’s hair, appeared to like the ritual of it, which Gellert had always found rather amusing. Pike had two fetishes that he set his stars by: firstly, his desire to impregnate anybody and, indeed, anything he laid eyes on, and secondly, this preoccupation with bathing and grooming others, washing their hair, cutting it.

He’d all but nutted in his trousers when Gellert had come into work having not shaved after being ill for a few days with a cold, and Gellert had agreed to let Pike shave his face for him. Pike had used a straight razor, of course, one no doubt a few centuries old, if straight razors had been invented back then.

“Mmm,” hummed Gellert.

“Good?” Pike asked. He’d been in a pensive mood all day. Gellert didn’t know why precisely, but he had his suspicions — Pike had mentioned a few months ago, in his casual way, that his mother’s birthday had been in December, and it was December now.

“Good,” Gellert answered, letting his eyes shut as Pike massaged his scalp, working the shampoo into his hair before he tipped Gellert’s head back, rinsing his hair with more hot water. “Pike.”

Pike didn’t say anything, and Gellert felt an uncharacteristic twinge of something he didn’t particularly want to name in his gut. Reaching back, he slid his hand over the back of Pike’s hand, feeling how cool, unyielding, and hard the flesh was.

He knew better than to try to say it out loud, to ask about Pike’s mother, ask about his mood.

He decided to say instead, “Thank you, Lucien.”

“Looks bad on me if you look like shit,” muttered Pike.

“If you like,” said Gellert softly, feeling his lips twitch, and relaxed further into his hands.