Cafuné (Brazilian Portueguese): The act of tenderly running one’s fingers through someone’s hair.
Rated G. 872 Words. CW: mentions of being in the hospital, weight loss due to illness. Set in the morning after Gökotta
Delia woke to the smell of fresh coffee and dragged herself out of bed. Washing her face and running her fingers through her hair was enough to make her presentable enough to head for the living room. Quigley had said they’d come early, even though it wasn’t Wednesday, to celebrate Nathan being home. Nathan was sitting in the corner of the couch, Joel sprawled over the rest with his feet in Nathan’s lap, each with a book. She leaned down and kissed the top of Nathan’s head.
“Oh, hi!” Nathan tilted his head up and got another. “Our ghost is sneaking around again.”
She scoffed, petting his hair. “You were just distracted.”
“I heard her,” Joel said without looking up from his book. “Hi mom. Quigley’s going to make French toast if you want to tell them you’re up. They said they were starting the dusting.”
“You’re hungry then?”
“I’m a growing kid,” he said dispassionately.
“You can’t use that excuse that much longer.” She ruffled his hair on her way by and rolled her eyes at his fake grimace.
~ ~ ~
Delia couldn’t stop watching Nathan as they ate. It’d been almost three months since he’d been home. He’d lost weight and was even paler than normal. He’d tied his hair back like usual, but instead of it flowing down his back and shoulders like liquid gold, it lay lifeless where it didn’t stick out like dandelion fluff. He smoothed it unconsciously and irritation flickered over his face. She reached out and squeezed his hand. “Hey. Love you.”
He shrugged. “I’m a mess.”
“It’s fine.” He squeezed back before letting go to grab another piece of French toast before Joel ate it all. “I have to run into the office to take care of a couple of things that can’t wait. Anything you two want me to pick up while I’m out?”
“Can you stop at Action-Os for my comics?” Joel asked.
“If you give me the money for them.” He rolled his eyes and stole a piece of bacon from her plate.
“Yeah, there’s a couple of things,” Nathan said. “If you don’t mind.”
“Of course not.”
“Thanks Del.”
~ ~ ~
He was napping when she got back, splayed out on the bed with his arm over his eyes. She smiled and set down the bag from the pharmacy in the bathroom before sitting down next to him. He made a soft sound and rolled over.
“Hey,” he mumbled.
“Hey handsome.” She ran her fingers through his hair and he leaned his forehead against her leg with a happy sigh. “Can I wash your hair?”
“I did it last night.”
“Mm. I got some different conditioner. For dry hair.” He made a face – he’d always had the opposite problem. “I haven’t gotten to play with your hair in ages and a couple of the nurses definitely wanted to keep you, you flirt.”
He turned and smiled up at her. “I can’t help it.”
“In the hospital and still a heartbreaker.” She poked him, gently, in the side. “How are you going to make it up to me?”
He propped himself up. “Apparently by letting you wash my hair.” He rubbed his eyes. “Well, at least I get to see a beautiful body.”
Delia scoffed. “Come on. Let’s get our beautiful bodies off the bed.”
Delia had insisted on a big fancy tub when they moved in and once again was glad for it. Getting into the tub involved more than the usual amount of kissing and groping. Finally Nathan leaned against the side and side. “I’m getting really tired of being tired,” he grumbled.
“You’ve gotten through a lot.”
“Yeah…”
She grabbed the shampoo. “Come here.”
He rouched out and snagged her foot with his. “Nope. Too tired.” She splashed him gently and came over.
~ ~ ~
He sighed happily as she massaged the lather through his hair. “That’s nice.”
She leaned over and kissed a suds-free patch of skin. “Lean back.” She caught his smirk. “And not onto my chest.”
“But I’m tired. I need a pillow.” But he obligated and helped rinse out his hair. He wiped his eyes as she reached for the conditioner. “This is much nicer than at the hospital.”
“You weren’t tempted by the cute nurses?” she teased.
“I didn’t see any as cute as you.”
She shook her head with a smile. “Liar.” Conditioner and leave-in conditoner later, his hair was feeling less like straw and more like its usual silk.
He looked at her with puppy dog eyes. “Braid my hair?”
“Of course.”
He pulled out the seat at the counter and sat as she found a com and hair band, the both of them in just towels around their waist. She was careful as she ran her fingers through his hair to ease out the tangles before follwing with the comb.
“How long are you planning on spoiling me?” he asked as she started to braid.
“I don’t know. How long are we planning on being married?” She was a fast braider and soon she was tying it off. “There you go. Come on, I’m getting cold.”
He pulled it forward and ran his hands over it. “Thanks, love.”
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