[ Hesitation can cost a man, whether that's in the middle of an assassination or an attempt at brushing a partner's hair. Felix doesn't give Locus time to change his mind. The second he's given the go ahead he moves over to the side of the bed and then slips easily into the space Locus has left for him. It's tempting to plaster himself against Locus' back and just... he's not sure. Wrap around him and refuse to let go maybe. It's a stupid impulse, one he immediately suppresses, but it lingers there like an itch he can't scratch. ]

Hair's weird. [ He says it casually, a normal conversational tone as he separates Locus' hair into sections and startz working the comb through the bottom of the first. ] It feels really good to have someone brush it when it's short and really good when it's long, but that in the middle shit? It's just not the same.

[ Locus' hair isn't a huge tangle. A few gentle strokes of the comb loosens the first section and Felix spends half a minute just pulling it through the wet strands, from Locus' scalp to the very tips. ]

Your hair's a good length for it. [ It's normal, boring conversation that Locus can ignore if he doesn't want to listen. It's normal, and Felix thinks maybe he wants normal after what they've done. Maybe also because of what they're doing now. ] I like your hair.

[ He doesn't pause as he moves onto the second section, though he does look up and fix the back of Locus' head with a curious stare. ]

I'm not hurting you, am I?