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[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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