Title:           Washing /R9K/ Moondancer's Hair
Author:          rikka_tan
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/uq58zxLw
First Edit:      Wednesday 3rd of February 2016 02:18:18 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Last edit on: Sunday 13th of March 2016 02:20:03 PM CDT

>You plunk yourself down by Moondancer as she browses /r9k/.
>She gives you a brief sidelong glance then returns her eyes to her computer.
>You can smell that she hasn’t bathed in days, her old sweater doing little to contain the odour.
>You slide a little closer and slip an arm around her.
>”Hmph,” she mumbles under her breath.
>Despite this display of distaste, you feel her shift into your embrace.
>”N-Normie…!” she says meekly.
“Uh-huh,” you reply, resting your head on her shoulder.
>You notice that all she’s wearing is her sweater and panties, too lazy to fully clothe herself.
>Despite her unwashed smell, she’s still the sexy, nerdy girl you had fallen in love with all those years ago.
>You two sit like this for a few minutes, then you hear her stomach grumble.
>Her typing stops and she looks to you expectantly.
>You sigh a little, the semi-tender moment gone.
“Hungry?”
>Wh-what do you think?” she retorts.
“Alright.”
>You give her a quick hug and start to stand up.
>You duck in to plant a kiss on her head, like you always used to, but are repelled by the stink of her hair.
“Dinner will have to wait,” you say.
>”What are you talking about Normi-“
>You grab her under her arms and pull her to her feet.
>She crinkles her brow at you but you pay it no mind, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her to your shared bedroom.
>The bed is perfectly made, the room a small bastion of cleanliness in your otherwise filthy apartment.
>This is due, in part, to the fact that Moondancer has been sleeping in the living room near her computer for the past few months.
>You had been doing the same, unable to stomach the thought of her sleeping all alone.
>In a flash you pull off her sweater, revealing her bare breasts.
>You blush a little at the sight – Moondancer stood before you wearing nothing but a pair of unwashed panties.
>She quickly covers her chest with her hands and looks down at her feet, ashamed.
>You kneel down and slowly slide her panties down her legs.
>There. She’s completely bare.
>And beautiful.
>You kiss her just above her pubic hair as you stand up.
>You strip as well and gently guide her to the bathroom.
>You enter and start the water, moving the dial to make it a little hotter than necessary.
>It’s a small bathroom, to match your small apartment, and you feel her skin rub against yours as the two of you move about its cramped quarters.
>She sees you retrieve the stronger shampoo from the cupboard.
>”in b4 sh-shitstorm,” she mumbles.
>You pat her head as you place the strawberry scented shampoo on the floor of the shower.
>Your hand feels a little greasy just from the brief touch and you examine it under the light of the bathroom.
>You see a slight shine on your skin.
>Jesus, has it been that long?
>Steam begins to fill the room and you guide her under the water.
>She sighs a little as the hot water hits her back.
>You step forward and slide your hands around her hips, pulling her body against yours.
>”F-filthy casual,” she says.
>You press your forehead against hers and close your eyes.
“I love you, Moondancer.”
>”Fu-fucking normalfag.”
>You say it again.
“I love you.”
>”S-stop!”
>You say it one more time.
“I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
>She stops her protests and leans against you.
>It feels like she’ll collapse if you let go so you hold her even tighter.
>She tucks her head against your neck as the steamy water washes over you two.
>You feel her tears rolling down your shoulder and pat her back.
>You gently whisper in her ear as you rub your hand along the small of her back.
>After a while she pipes up:
>”These things, these everyday things… they’re so hard,” she whispers in a voice so tiny you can barely hear.
“Shhh, it’s okay. I’ll do them for you.”
>You gently break the embrace and grab the shampoo off the floor.
>Giving the bottle a huge squeeze, you fill your hand with the silky liquid and begin to lather her hair.
>Her hair is so oily that it takes a while for any suds to form.
>You continue to massage her scalp with your fingers, working out the knots, watching as the dirt and oil flows down the drain.
>She places a hand against your chest as you wash her dirty hair.
>You place one of your sudsy hands against hers and look in her eyes.
>She leans against you again, and you hold her quivering body.
>Slowly you inch your way beneath the running water, and allow it to wash away the suds and dirt from her hair.
>The two of you stand like that under the water until her hair seems relatively clean.
>Even after all the soap is gone, you remain there, hugging each other.
>There’s no need for words.
>You gently switch off the water and retrieve a towel.
>She protests as you begin to dry her hair for her, but only half-heartedly.
>You intentionally muss it up a bit and open the towel, and smile at her.
>Her face falters for a moment, but eventually she begins to laugh.
>It’s infectious.
>Before long the two of you are laughing up a storm in the tiny room.
>Finally when her hair is mostly dry, you lead her back to the bedroom and sit down with her on the bed.
>You grab a hairbrush from the side table and start to work it through her tangles.
>”I-I’m sorry I’m like this, Anon,” she offers.
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” you reply, pleased with how much better her hair looks.
“You know what you could do to thank me?”
>She looks at you expectantly.
“Read to me.”
>She looks a little nervous, but says:
>”What do you want to hear?”
“Anything,” you reply, longing only to hear her reading voice again, that voice you fell in love with.
>She scans the room for a book.
>You stop brushing and hand her a book of poetry you had near your side of the bed.
>She stares at the book nervously.
>You give her a quick kiss on the cheek as encouragement and resume your work.
>She blushes deeply, clears her throat, and then begins to read.
>Your heart flutters at the sound of her voice and your stomach feels like it’s full of butterflies.
>All these years, all this heartache… and she can still make you feel this way.
>You look at her as you brush and are filled with a bittersweet feeling.
>You know that after this you’ll fix dinner, and she’ll go back to her computer, and things will return to the way they were.
>But for now, for these few precious hours… things are as they used to be… and that’s enough.
FIN