Thranduil sat on the plush carpet with his back leaning against the sofa. Bard's legs dangled either side of the elf's shoulders but his fingers fiddled with the long strands of white-blond hair. Every few minutes, Thranduil will make the human equivalent of a purr and Bard knows that he will never be allowed to stop.
The tv plays across the room but neither men focus on it. It was only a series about a pie-maker anyway.
After sometime, Bard's fiddling takes up more of a purpose; he manipulates the strands carefully and pulls them tight to ensure they're neat. He weaves them together with great care and with gentle fingers.
"Bard? What are you doing?" Thranduil asks his partner after a few minutes of work. He tries to angle his head to see but Bard tugs slightly to scold him.
The bowman smiles but continues pulling loose strands into his fingers to join the forming group, "Just wait and see."
It was only a few minutes later when Bard declares himself finished and ties the end of his masterpiece. Thranduil stands, feeling the long strand of hair fall along his back. He swishes it back and forth.
"What did you do?" He asks excitedly and hurries over to the mirror. He gasps in surprise. A long, thick plait drapes down the length of his back and moves with the movement of his head. His grin reaches from pointy ear to pointy ear, "Where did you learn to plait?!"
The other man chuckles before walking over to inspect the hair style, "After two daughters, you learn a thing or two here and there." He mirrors his partner's beaming.
The elf King pulls his partner into his chest and leans his head down to place a soft kiss to the man's lips. Bard instantly kisses back.
"Thank you." Thranduil murmurs against his lover's lips.
"I love you."
A pink flush covered his cheeks, "I love you too."