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[It is late, later than Cor usually lets Regis sleep in but it's also been an incredibly stressful couple of days. But Noctis is awake, emotionally battered as he is, he's awake. And hopefully here he can have some time to heal.

Which also means making sure Regis recuperates from the stress of the last few days, especially after what happened with Ardyn as well. Which means a little sleeping in, though that is harder for his King now than it was before his sleep. It also means finally sitting him down to tackle the mess that is his hair after these spring rains.

Regis sleeps like a rock, like all Lucis Caelums do. Cor can only hope he manages to be gentle enough not to wake him, scooping the other man up and carefully carrying him downstairs. The main bathroom is nice but the master bath in Cor's room is nothing short of extravagant. If at all possible he'd like to let Regis sleep until they're in his room, until he can cozy him into an armchair and carefully peel away his pajamas. Drowsy and unbothered is probably too much to ask for but he can hope.]

[For once Cor gets what he is hoping for--drowsy and unbothered. Regis stirs just enough to realize who is carrying him and then turns his head into Cor's chest and starts to doze again. Regis knows that there is no way Cor will do anything to harm him, so if he is not expected to use his own two feet to get somewhere, he will literally leave himself in his lion's very capable hands. It's only once he is settled into the chair and his friend begins to remove his pajamas that he starts to slowly blink himself awake.]

Cor?

[Cor's fingers pause on the last button of Regis' top for a moment, hesitating at the sound of his name. But there's no real protest or attempt to stop him so Cor just gently shushes his King. One last button and he can slide the top off, warm hands gliding over his shoulders. His hands hesitate briefly over the scarring the ring has left, covering a much larger area now than it had last time he had Regis shirtless.]

Let me take care of you.

[A gentle rumble, soft and soothing. For a moment he considers how best to deal with Regis' pants without waking him up too much... ah- of course... hopefully he's too sleepy to notice the blush that tints Cor's cheeks as he scoops his King back up, nudging the bathroom door open with his foot. And banishes his pants straight into the armiger.

It's warm and dim and smells strongly of mint and herbs. The tub already full of warm water and Cor's newest salt soak mix.]

[How can he refuse that gentle request? Especially, when all he would like to do now is go back to sleep? Regis hasn't felt this weary since he woke up after holding the barrier during the attack. That was magic exhaustion; this he knows is mental exhaustion. Sleeping is not the best escape, but it is an escape. Until he saw Noctis' panicked reaction after waking up, Regis had thought he had started to deal with the pain of Aulea's death. He was wrong. Very wrong and once Noctis was back home and recovering, everything had rushed back over him again with the additional guilt of not having been there when Noctis obviously needed him.

Unconsciously, Regis curls closer to Cor as if his presence will drive away the thoughts trying to once more overwhelm him. He's so caught up in the struggle that he doesn't really even notice Cor taking care of the rest of his clothes or where he's being carried to. He just wants his brain to go back to being quiet for a little while. Is that too much to ask?]

[He presses a gentle kiss to Regis' hair as his King curls into him, pausing for a moment to simply hold him near, to savor the warmth of him. Then Cor leans down, gently settling Regis down into the water, just this side of being too hot. His fingers linger on the other man's shoulders as he shifts to settle himself on a small stool at the head of the tub. A rolled hand towel gets tucked behind Regis' head to protect his neck from any discomfort from the edge of the tub.

For a few moments all Cor does is sit there idly dragging his fingers through Regis' hair, fanning the thick dark locks out, just appraising the absurd length and weight of it after so much of last month left everyone a bit shaggier than the norm. He wants to keep Regis relaxed and pliant like this, to keep the stressors of his life and, more importantly, those of the last few days. There's a quip there on the tip of his tongue about how his hair is even more magnificent now than it had been when they'd met, Regis still a teenager and playing so fully into the stereotypical fop.

But words would make Regis feel the need for more words in response so he just hums, a faint chuckle on his breath, finally trading his fingers for a long toothed comb.]

[The temperature of the water is a pleasant shock, enough to pull Regis out of his thoughts, but not enough to bring him to full awareness. It's warmth is likely the only thing that keeps him from complaining about Cor moving away. Instead, he lets himself sink into it, sighing contently moments later when Cor begins fanning his hair out. Oh, it's heavy at this length. He honestly doesn't know how Aulea had dealt with hers. It was nowhere near this length of course, but it was definitely longer than he ever kept his own.

Perhaps it's because of the warm water, or Cor's gentle attentions, but that thought of his lost wife actually doesn't pull Regis back into the spiral he had been fighting to stay out of not that long ago. Instead, a small half smile crosses his face.

It's movement in the right direction.]

[Being able to cherish those memories without the taint of so much pain is most certainly a positive step. There will always be some bitter sweetness, he doesn't doubt that, but it does not need to be this overwhelming agony forever.

Cor scoots forward a little, gently pressing up behind Regis so his head rests a little more firmly on Cor's shoulder than the rim of the tub. A gentle nuzzle, lips gentle against his temple, then the Marshal's hands are dipping down into the water, trailing it up to let fine trickles of it drip into Regis' hair. His t-shirt is going to end up soaked but that's hardly a concern.]

[The state of his shirt is not going to be helped by the fact that Regis leans into the nuzzle while it is there and into Cor himself when it moves away. There is a faint nudge at the back of his mind that says he should wake himself up and stop Cor from having to do this, but he pushes it away. He's safe here and Cor very obviously wants him to be this way. What is the harm? Especially when it feels so good to have his mind freed of the things that have been weighing him down for so long?]

[The way Regis nuzzles into him makes his breath catch slightly, tilting his head a little, brushing a kiss to the corner of the other's mouth. For a moment he considers derailing his plans, just staying here, touching and holding him, maybe sneaking in a few more kisses before Regis is too wakeful to allow him such indulgences.

Perhaps a little more time here is alright though, even if he's not quite ready to press his advantage that much. The point is for Regis to be safe and calm for a little while. Cor lets his hands alternate, trailing light touches over his King's shoulders and chest, dipping into the water to bring it up to dampen his hair further with each stroke. As he works he dips in to drop a kiss to the other's brow, his cheek, once a proper kiss to his lips, warm and loving but short lived.

It's only once Regis' hair is fully wet that Cor finally has to coax him into sitting up properly, leaning him forward just enough that the Marshal and take a substantial amount of soap into his hands and begin to work the lather into those dark waves. ]

[Were he allowing himself to think more, Regis would find it sad how Cor assumes he has to keeping him drowsy in order for his affection to accepted. It's good that he isn't thinking, though, because that might lead to a tense conversation, if nothing else a serious one, and that is the opposite of what Cor is striving for.

Regis sighs softly as the kisses come and the water drips over him. It seems as if each trail of water drags stress and tension away with it, so much so that it really does take some coaxing to get him to change positions. At least the calming smell of the shampoo and the feel of Cor's hands in his hair are wonderful rewards for the effort.]

[Cor had learned, eventually, to accept just how far those boundaries Regis set stretched. They'd had months to learn how they fit together. Things were... different now. More painful, possibly. The last thing Cor wanted to do was push for some of that affection once more and only have it bring Regis pain, reminders of Aulea's absence.

He's tried to keep his hands in check over the last few weeks, reminded himself over and over again that it was up to Regis to decide how the time had changed his feelings. So this was a little bit of an indulgence. One that, perhaps, Regis would feel Cor had taken advantage of. If that was the case he would apologize but... part of him desperately hoped it wasn't.]

That's it...

[Cor is careful to keep one hand at least partially supporting his King's head, letting him still relax into his hands as he worked the lather through long dark strands. Even if, for a moment, he found himself simply watching Regis, a faint smile on his lips, appreciating the line of his jaw, the curve of his ear, the fan of dark lashes... Sometimes it struck him how devastatingly handsome the other man was and he forgot to breathe for a moment, forgot everything else.

Silly as he felt afterward, it was something that had always happened... he just didn't have to hide it as much here.

Once his hair was thoroughly shampooed Cor coaxed Regis back once more. Not quite all the way to the edge of the tub, though. Instead he braced his arm across the tub, let Regis lay back with Cor's arm tucked up against the back of his neck. Then he began scooping water up to rinse his hair clean, a little bit quicker than he'd wet it but not enough to splash overly much or make Regis feel rushed.

At least he hoped.]

You're fine...

[The words probably seem out of place considering they are in answer to thoughts Cor has not expressed. Will is the one who can read minds, not Regis, but Regis does have years of watching Cor grow up under his belt, and he remembers full well just how easy it is for his friend to worry. No matter what particular worry he might be chewing on right now, hopefully the words will help put his mind at ease. It is only fair, after all the care Cor is giving him at the moment.

Another contented sigh slips from his mouth as Regis allows Cor to do whatever he needs to. Speed hardly registers in his mind. This is all a wonderful break from everything that has been going on and he's not about to waste any of the time worrying about how much time he might have left.

Worries are not welcome here, no matter who they may be trying to bother.]

[Cor huffs a soft breath, simultaneously annoyed at being called out and also knowing damn well Regis was right to do it. He gradually leans Regis back to the edge of the tub once more, this time leaning over him to drop a light kiss to his forehead. Then he settles in to begin combing out his King's hair, first with his fingers, then a comb.]

So are you.

[He takes his time smoothing out all that dark hair, fingers slipping into the water periodically to offer a little surge of heat, making certain it stays nice and warm. Eventually, when he's certain Regis has melted back into that hazy space between sleeping and waking, he finally draws his hands away. A slight rustle and then a gentle tug on the bottom most part of his hair, the sharp metallic grind of blade against blade, and then, abruptly, the weight of all that wet hair lightened slightly.]

Be still, mea vita.

[A small, pleased smile turns up Regis' lips at those words, almost as if he knows just how much Cor is appraising him and can't help but be extremely appreciative of the attention. Between that satisfaction and the continued warmth of the water, it doesn't take him long to slip back into that hazy mindset that Cor is looking for. In fact, he slides back so far that the only acknowledgement the warning gets is a soft hum. Later there will be bad jokes about cutting enough hair to make a small dog--or quite frankly a large one--later, but for now it will just have to wait.]

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