"Stop fussing." Paul's eyebrows shot up at the quiet command, letting a quiet questioning hum leave his lips. He was sitting on the floor with his back to the couch, his head between his girlfriend's legs, as his hand was reaching up behind him to draw absentminded circles over her knee, eyes glued to the TV. He was so caught in the words of the journalist that he couldn't help but flinch when he felt a gentle tug on his hair.

Paul leaned back and arched his neck in an attempt to look at the woman behind him. She shushed him, even tho he hadn't spoken a word yet. "Stop fussing," she repeated quietly, her voice barely audible over the TV, "I'm braiding your hair."

A soft smile made its way on the singer's face and he stretched his arms, yet he tried his best not to move his head from its place. "Are you now? Am I compensating for your lack of Barbie dolls in your childhood?" He teased. If he had to be honest, now that he wasn't startled anymore, he loved the affection. The feeling of her fingers sliding through the blue-black curls, the occasional soft tugs when her fingers tangled through a knot he couldn't quite comb through in the morning, it send a shiver down his spine every now and then.

"You used to wear bigger heels onstage than any Barbie doll out there. They wouldn't stand a chance."

A laugh escaped his lips and he moved the hand that was on her knee to give her leg a light, playful slap, his answer to her tease. She laughed back, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. Paul was an absolute goner then, his eyes closing as he leaned back to her touch, a silent invitation to keep going.

"You know," she started, her fingers running through his hair again, brushing through the strands and starting another small braid. Paul had to force himself not to moan. "If Gene sees us like that, he won't stop messing with us."

Paul grumbled in response, not even bothering to open his eyes. "Like he doesn't turn into someone else when he's around Shannon." He said, a smirk blooming on his face. "The lady knows how to tame the Demon."

"Hmm." Paul felt her undo the braid, probably not happy with the result. "Good to know, I could ruin his life." Paul couldn't help but giggle at that. His lady was just as capable at answering his bandmate's teasing remarks as anyone, maybe even better. He could only be happy about the friendship that bloomed between two of the most important people in his life.

The laughter died in his throat when he felt a sharp tug on his hair and he yelped quietly, in surprise rather than in pain. He could already feel the excitement growing in his body, biting his lower lip when he heard:

"Does the Starchild need taming too?"

His lips parted and his voice was already breathy when he answered. "From you? Always."

A/N: Oh, to be putting rockstars in vulnerable positions and give them fluff.