themargolem replied to your post “Fairy Tale Prompts”
queliot rapunzel ;)
"Quentin? Q? ... Rapunzel?"
"Fuck you, Eliot!"
Eliot chuckled when he saw Quentin's face appear in a window at the top of the tower. Someone thought it would be fun to play a prank on him and Quentin and had cast a spell on them, sending them into a fairy tale. Into Rapunzel to be exact.
"Let down your hair?" Eliot said.
"What, you want to climb up my hair? Fuck that, find another way up!" Quentin hollered.
"Q, there are no doors down here that I can see," Eliot said.
"So cast a spell," Quentin replied. "We're in a world with magic!"
Eliot rolled his eyes, but blasted a hole in the tower and located a pair of stairs. Cursing about the lack of elevators and pain in his thighs, calves and shins as he ascended umpteenine flights of stairs, Eliot was panting when he finally pushed his way into the only room at the top of the stairs, and promptly tripped over Quentin's hair.
"Welcome to my hell," Quentin muttered.
Eliot clambered to his feet, looked around the room and started laughing. Coils upon coils of hair wrapped around the room and Quentin laid on a bed near the window frowning at Eliot.
"Couldn't magic the hair away?" Eliot asked.
"I could conjure myself food, but no spell would undo this," Quentin said. "Apparently the magic will work if it furthers the story to a point. When I conjured food the spell didn't even give me a knife."
Eliot watched as Quentin tried to sit up, but the weight of his hair kept him from succeeding.
"Whatever spell sent us here happened to send me with both a dagger and a sword," Eliot said. "I could help you out."
"Please," Quentin begged. "Please. I've got the worst headache."
Eliot carefully picked his way through the room and pulled up a chair up to the bed near Quentin's head. The bed was the perfect height - when Eliot sat down, he gently moved Quentin's head so it was in his lap. Eliot pulled the small dagger out of the sheath in his boot and eyed Quentin's hair for a moment before taking a lock and slicing it so hit below his shoulders. He worked carefully, not wanting to cause Quentin any more pain. It was a slow process, but eventually Eliot finished.
"Try sitting up now," Eliot murmured.
Quentin slowly sat up and sighed softly. "Thank you," Quentin whispered.
Eliot blinked for a few minutes as he watched Quentin ... watched the hair move around his shoulders with the gentle breeze from outside the window. Without even realizing he was doing it, Eliot reached out and carded a hand through Quentin's hair.
"It's so soft," Eliot replied. Suddenly both his hands were in Quentin's hair, gently massaging Quentin's scalp, watching Quentin carefully.
"Fuck," Quentin whispered. "You have no idea how much my head has been killing me and fuck your hands feel fantastic."
"Yeah?" Eliot murmured.
"Fucking Rapunzel," Quentin muttered. "Why did it have to be Rapunzel. I mean, I've been growing my hair out, but seriously."
"Someone has a sense of humor," Eliot said. "And I like your hair."
"Yeah?" Quentin replied, leaning into Eliot's massaging fingers.
"Mmmhmm," Eliot replied. "The way it falls, the way you play with it when you're distracted, tucking it behind your ears."
"A wordsmith," Quentin murmured. "You never said anything."
Eliot shrugged. "What would I say? Quentin you have lovely hair and I'd love to see it spread across the pillows of my bed?"
"Would you?" Quentin asked.
"What?"
"Want to see my hair spread across the pillows of your bed?" Quentin pressed.
Eliot gave Quentin a small smile and a nod.
"There happens to be a bed right here," Quentin said, laying down and spreading his hair across the pillows.
"Fucking beautiful," Eliot said.
"Yeah? What are you going to do about it?"
***
"Genius," Julia said.
"I know," Margo replied.
"The sexual tension between those two was so thick," Julia said.
"And neither would make a move," Margo said. "So I made the move for them."
