Prompt: Starry said – "Headcanon: …At one point the two of them discover totally by accident that Wheatley likes to have his hair stroked."
Chell loved Wheatley's hair. The curls and color were something she found attractive on him. Honestly, whoever designed him certainly did their best to make him look… well, attractive. There really wasn't another word for it.
And she was getting a very nice view of him as she lay on top of him on the sofa. The TV was buzzing in the background about someone's form while dancing, and the chemistry between the two partners was clear. Wheatley was watching intently, but was still clearly focused on making Chell comfortable.
Chell, on the other hand, was still staring at Wheatley's hair. It always looked so smooth, and she felt mildly jealous at the fact he never needed to shower (or could shower, for that matter).
What did it feel like? Did it feel like real hair? It did when he leaned on her and it tickled her cheek, and reacted like real hair, because knots did form… So she wondered if it would feel just as nice when she stroked it.
Pulling a hand up to his hair, Chell ran her fingers through, and Wheatley's eyes were diverted from the television set to her. It felt as nice as it looked, honestly.
Then, a noise began to come from Wheatley, almost the same as a cat's purr.
The two stared at each other, and while Chell couldn't help but giggle, Wheatley seemed utterly confused.
"What's causing this?" he asked Chell, as if she would know the answer. She shrugged in response, having absolutely no idea what could create this sort of sound. "Are you doing it?"
"No, I have absolutely no idea!" Wheatley persisted as the sound continued. "This has never happened before, I don't know why or how it's happening, but something is going on!"
Chell rolled her eyes and laid on his chest, trying to listen, while Wheatley wrung his hands and gave up trying to figure it out.
"It just sounds like it's coming from you," she began, but then the sound began to die. Something had stopped. Or quieted down.
"How'd you make it stop?" Wheatley propped himself up on his elbows to look at her, wondering if she'd done something to him. Chell was still just as confused as he was. "I've done nothing but-"
Then it clicked together. She looked back to Wheatley with a small smile, and ran her fingers through his hair again.
"Luv, what are you-" he began to protest, but as she stroked his hair, the sound came on again and Wheatley quieted down instantly. Wheatley sat there for a few moments, and then opened his mouth to protest he wasn't doing anything, before shutting it again as Chell started to stroke it rhythmically.
"…That feels nice, luv," he commented, laying back down and lacing his fingers together atop his chest.
"I couldn't tell," Chell said back, unable to hold back another laugh.
"Could you do this every once and a while, luv, y'know, this thing? It just feels nice. You don't have to do it every night we cuddle, 'course not, but just… sometimes? Please, sweetheart?" he added with a grin.
Chell smiled back and kissed his nose. "Of course, dear."
