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Published:
2018-12-02
Completed:
2018-12-10
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4,028
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3/3
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Cafuné

Summary:

Cafuné (v.): Running your fingers through your lover’s hair.

Steak wasn’t used to the sight of Red Wine’s untied hair.

Chapter 1: Started.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Cafuné | Steak x Red Wine.

Cafuné (v.): Running your fingers through your lover’s hair.

Steak wasn’t used to the sight of Red Wine’s untied hair.

That sounded a little bit silly – ridiculous even – because they’ve been with each other for more than some hundred years, a long, long time that both of them didn’t bother to count after the first three or four decades. You would think that at this rate, there’s nothing about the other that could make any of them feel surprised anymore.

Besides, it’s not like Steak was the kind of men to notice such trivial things about other men. He’s the epitome of traditional masculinity: handsome, muscled, with a strong head – both figuratively and literally, and driven by courage combined with assertiveness. He was a leader of a group of other men, who were all brave and hot-headed and willing to sacrifice their own lives for others’ sake just like him nonetheless. Saying all these things to emphasize the fact that men like Steak just never care about frivolous stuff like how another man looked like when he let his hair down.

Except for the fact that indeed he did.

And “another man” in this case, to be more specific, was Red Wine.

It was a plain fact that Red Wine cared a s**tton about his appearance. Always found wearing stylish, elegant clothing such as tailor-made tuxedos with matching gilets, silky white shirts, and shiny clean leather shoes – he was famous among both women and men. Ladies loved how his stunning scarlet eyes were highlighted by his porcelain white skin and his choices of clothes; men envied how he still managed to look striking and almost clean even after a violent fight. Unlike Steak and other men, who were never afraid of sweat and dirt and those kinds of stuff, Red Wine frowned even when the slightest stain of mud or a tiny amount of dust touched his clothes, like he couldn’t stand even just the smallest kind of uncleanness – which was true anyway, because he really couldn’t.

But it wasn’t like appearance was all Red Wine’s got. His swordsmanship was exceptional, even Steak begrudgingly admitted that after countless times they couldn’t decide who’s the winner of their training matches.

At first, some of Steak’s companions made fun of the red-eyed food soul because of his habit, said he’s like a nit-picking middle-aged spinster that was always unpleased with how the others didn’t clean as much as she did, or a little princess that lived inside a pristine castle and did nothing all day except looking into mirrors and fussing about how pretty she looked. But after some years it got boring, and most of them were beaten mercilessly by Red Wine’s excellent fighting skills so it effectively shut their mouths up, didn’t need to mention the fact that the wine food soul somehow made himself look graceful even when he pointed the sword at his opponent’s throat in a blink of an eye.

It was deadly graceful. And spectacular. Steak’s mind refused to forget that image, even though it was years ago and he already forgot all the other insignificant things. It was like the image imprinted a mark on his memory, so clear and detailed that he could recall it correctly whenever he closed his eyes.

Cursed Red Wine for looking elegant even when he’s beating his enemies’ sorry asses without mercy.

Another fact that Red Wine disliked being under the sunshine didn’t help to decrease his distaste for dirtiness – the only thing it did was making that worse. The lack of sunlight made Red Wine’s skin even whiter, his impressive scarlet orbs were more striking, and it added shades of mystery around him. The ladies went crazier about “handsome, enigmatic red-eyed man”; while some of the men were wary but opted to not voice their concern, and some others were plain stupid when they decided to challenge Red Wine for a fight. Some mere human stood no chance to win against a powerful food soul as Red Wine was, even if he didn’t use any of his spiritual powers, his outstanding swordsmanship was enough to make the men back out with their tails hid between their legs.

So, after all these years, nobody's bothered to say anything against Red Wine’s meticulousness anymore. Even Steak, who quite strongly disagreed with Red Wine’s long hair at first, didn’t raise his voice once after finding out that his long hair did nothing to prevent him from being deadly dangerous to his opponents.

It was still quite distracting sometimes though, how Red Wine kept his hair look silky all the time, and even when all he did was tied his hair in a loose ponytail, the girls still daydreamed about how would it be like to touch those deep purple locks.

Steak never understood them. He couldn’t care less about their gossips either.

Notes:

This is the first part of this oneshot. I hope I could get the other part done asap!

It's my first fanfic for Food Fantasy. I need to get some ideas out of my system so I could focus on studying later. Sue me and my hyperactive brain.

Chapter 2: Noticed.

Chapter Text

Things went on without a hitch until one day Red Wine decided to not tie up his hair as usual when they went out for a quick trip to run some errands.

At first, Steak of course didn’t notice any difference, but even with a thick skull as he had, the red-haired man still couldn’t ignore all the surprise-quickly-turn-into-admire (and some other things) glances and gazes that the women on their way made at his companion. Just what were they musing about honestly? It wasn’t like this was the first time Red Wine walked on the street under the sunshine, even though to be honest, today wasn’t as sunny as usual. Maybe that’s why the man next to Steak agreed to go out without covering his entire skin under a heavy coat and an umbrella to block all the sunlight that might come to him.

But still, these glances and gazes were hard to not notice, especially when Steak found out he might be the only one who was bothered by them. He made a side-glance at his companion and yeah, Red Wine remained totally unaffected. Sometimes Steak felt sorry for all these girls, always daydreaming about such an unobtainable man. He could never figure out what did Red Wine think clearly, and he had years of experience living with the other food soul as an advantage.

“Do you know what’s happening with all the ladies on our way today?” Steak decided to voice his opinion because being blunt was one of those things he’s good at.

“What do you mean by that? I see no difference,” Red Wine’s answer came rather quickly, but his voice was laced with boredom. It’s still better than those moments when he had to stand under the direct sunlight without anything to cover his skin – during those times he became really insufferable, even if you have the patience of a saint.

“That means you pay them no mind as usual,” Steak realized he’s gritting his teeth, so he took a deep breath before continuing, “you really couldn’t notice a thing at all?”

“It’s hardly the first time they look at me like they want to throw themselves into my arms at any moment, and you know that,” Red Wine sounded a little bit irritated now. “Walk faster, I want to get this last one done before noon so I could come back earlier and avoid the sunlight for the rest of the day.”

Steak rolled his eyes but opted to not argue further. He made no attempt to actually follow the other’s command though, so after some minutes they weren’t walking next to each other anymore, but Red Wine led the way and Steak was behind him with a short distance.

If Red Wine noticed that Steak was walking slower than him, he surely didn’t say a thing.

They walked in silence for about ten minutes, when realization started to dawn on Steak’s mind. Something was different about Red Wine today. It was subtle, such a trivial thing that it’s quite hard for the red-haired man to notice, but when he finally found out what it was, it’s hard to take his eyes off the other man.

Today Red Wine didn’t tie his hair up. He let them fall freely all over his shoulders, creating a dark halo around his head.

He did look different from his normal appearance with his hair was always made into a neat ponytail, giving him a clean and well-groomed look. It wasn’t unkempt like how Steak’s bedhead looked like when he forgot to brush them before rushing out of his room (which he did quite on a daily basis), it was slightly messy in a stylish way, even though Steak wasn’t sure how could that even work.

“Hey, what’re you waiting for? Hurry up!” Red Wine chose that moment to turn around and frown at Steak’s somewhat dumbstruck expression.

The horned man blinked. Once. Twice. The image was still there, breath-taking and eye-catching. Red Wine’s lustrous dark hair was long enough to reach past his shoulders, slightly wavy at the end of some longer strands. They looked as soft and silky as usual, and when the sunshine was dancing on Red Wine’s head, it made some sparkling bordeaux mixed with deep purple spots dazzle all over his hair.

It was truly mesmerizing. For a moment, Steak had to remind himself that he still needed to breathe.

“Right there!” Steak found the words were uttered out of his mouth by an instinctive reaction because he’s sure his brain was short-circuited right at that moment to form a proper answer.

Red Wine raised an eyebrow before turning back, starting to walk at a faster pace when he noticed the sunlight was brightening up. Steak let out a small sigh while forcing his legs to move quickly to match the other man’s steps, his eyes were still focusing on his partner’s head instead of watching where he set his own feet, which in hindsight probably wasn’t the wisest move to make when he stumbled at a rock and almost fell gracelessly to the ground, face-first.

Red Wine stopped when the incident happened, only to give Steak a questioning look before he turned away without any intention to help his companion. The brief moment was enough for Steak to have a good sight at how the other looked like with his hair untied again.

Cursed the fact that Red Wine looked absolutely gorgeous with his hair like that.

They finished the last work and went straight to their place just in time. Today has nice weather and Steak wouldn’t describe it as sunny, but Red Wine looked like he finally escaped the scorching heat of a desert. His tolerance for sunshine must be nearly zero.

“Next time I will do those things at night. Inconvenient or not, I couldn’t care less,” Red Wine sighed while running a hand through his hair, and Steak found himself was staring.

“We run those errands like, once or twice a month at most. Stop being that grumpy, you sourpuss,” Steak groused irritatedly. Looking gorgeous or not, deep down inside Red Wine was still that insufferable a**hole.

“Ten minutes under that sunlight were torturous enough,” Red Wine groaned, a glimpse of murderous glare flashed in his eyes.

Steak took that as a cue to not argue on that particular issue further. He had another thing in his mind right now, anyway.

“Since when you forget to tie your hair before going out?” Steak casually asked. Or at least, he hoped that his voice sounded casual enough so Red Wine couldn’t notice any difference.

“Since when I have to tie my hair all the time?” Red Wine replied with another question, his left eyebrow slightly raised. He managed to make a doubtful expression look attractive, which was certainly did nothing to those butterflies in Steak’s stomach, especially with his hair down like that.

“I didn’t mean it. I just wonder, since you always tie your hair up, saying you don’t want them to get in the way if we get ourselves into a street fight or run into fallen angels, something like that,” Steak shrugged nonchalantly.

“Well, my hair would never get in the way when I fight, doesn’t matter if I tie them up or not,” the wine food soul mimicked the shrug Steak just made, but somehow he did that way more elegant than the redhead.

Steak was more surprised than irritated that the fact didn’t bother him even just a little bit. If anything, it only made him feel more intrigued by Red Wine.

Strange, wasn’t it? When the wine food soul tied up his hair, Steak usually felt totally unaffected. How could just a small change in hairstyle affect him this much?

“Fine. May I touch your hair?” Steak decided to give up his inner battle with a question – more like a request, but he still had enough tact to make it sound as polite as a question.

“What’s wrong with your mind?” Despite always wearing extravagant clothing, Red Wine wasn’t a man of flowery language. With respect, we could say he’s straight-forward. To be frankly honest, he’s terribly blunt just as how good Steak was with words.

“I’m just curious,” This technically wasn’t a lie so it’s still acceptable.

“Did you wash your hands?”

“Sorry, what?” Now Steak was baffled. That was… totally an unpredictable question.

“I asked, did you wash your hands? Because I won’t let you touch even my clothes if you haven’t washed those hands. Touching so many things during our trip, I’m sure they’re not clean enough.”

Steak looked down to his own hands. To be honest, he didn’t see any dirt on them, but to satisfy the inner perfectionist in Red Wine, he shrugged, “You go to your room, I go wash my hand, and we have a deal.”

“… We’ll see,” the corner of Red Wine twitched into a ghostly smile. He was curious what happened to Steak today too, maybe they could finally find out what was it when they’re in Red Wine’s room.

Chapter 3: Cafuné.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Are they clean enough?” Steak held up both of his hands in front of Red Wine’s face, asking him to inspect them.

“Quite good,” Red Wine nodded after five seconds, waving a hand dismissively. Still, he managed to make that gesture look elegant. “So, you want to touch my hair?”

“I said it out loud before, didn’t I?”

“May I ask you why?” Red Wine shrugged. It’s not like he couldn’t realize the fascination Steak had with his hair today, but that’s quite strange. They’re companions for years and Steak never paid him such intense attention, left alone his hair. What’s got inside the redhead’s mind, actually?

“I’m asking myself that question too,” Steak said nonchalantly, a hand hovered up to the dark violet curls. “Maybe we’ll find out when I could satisfy my curiosity.”

“… Well, it’s not hurt letting you touch my hair after all, might as well just do it already,” Red Wine decided to shorten the waiting time. It’s not like he could read Steak that easily, even though the man was like an open book most of the time.

Steak didn’t need more permission. His hand gently moved forward, the glove was removed and when his bare skin touched the soft, silky curl, his breaths hitched a little bit.

It was way softer than he expected. And man, that felt good. Heavenly, even.

Who knew touching Red Wine’s hair could make Steak feel that crazy? But he sure did.

“Your hair is so soft,” Steak mumbled quietly like he’s afraid if he talked too loud he might break whichever was happening inside the room. It’s not even a magical moment or anything special, just the feeling of running his fingers through those dark violet locks was way more wonderful than he’s thought about before.

Why he didn’t think about that sooner?

Ah, yeah. The hairstyle. Today Red Wine let his hair down and that’s the beginning of it all. Might as well let him take all the blame, it’s fair.

Because it’s not fair at all when just touching Red Wine’s hair could make Steak feel that good. He has never considered himself as someone with weird fetishes, but he positively had at least one by now.

He didn’t bother to feel bad about it, anyway.

“Have you found your answer?” Red Wine asked after some moments of silence. The atmosphere inside the room was quite… strange, for the lack of better words. It’s not awkward, it’s not weird or embarrassing, and both of them took it as a good sign. At least their relationship couldn’t go weirder afterward.

“I like touching your hair,” Steak admitted, his voice was as low as a whisper. His hand was still tangled in the other’s long hair, gently caressing the silky curls, combing them by his fingers.

… Or maybe they just thought about the “couldn’t go weirder” part too soon.

The violet-haired man snorted, “Since when you developed such strange fetish?”

Steak didn’t need to think hard about the answer for that question, “Since the moment you let your hair down instead of tying them up.”

“Oh, the blame is on me now?” Red Wine raised an eyebrow, looking unimpressed.

“I guess so,” Steak chuckled slightly, reluctantly letting his hand go. But one moment later, he switched his position so he was standing in front of Red Wine, and his other hand reached forward to touch the wine food soul’s hair. Different posture brought different feelings toward the action, and honestly, Steak liked this one more when he could see Red Wine’s expression clearly while still touching his hair and enjoying the moment.

“You look like you’re enjoying this,” Red Wine commented, his eyes wandered to Steak’s abs, which were rarely covered by his usual clothes. They looked as great as usual, showing that the redhead’s never gone through a day without practicing his strong muscles.

“Indeed I am,” Steak shrugged, focusing on Red Wine’s facial expression. He still looked calm and collected, momentarily relaxed since he’s inside his room without any irritating sunshine to piss him off.

And slowly, Steak understood why women could go crazy about Red Wine’s appearance. The other food soul was truly a sight to behold. He has all the elegant facial features that could make both men and women envy with him: captivating scarlet eyes with the faintest shade of golden flickers tinted inside the irises, long and elegant eyelashes that were slightly curly, but somehow Red Wine didn’t look feminine with them even just a little bit. They fit him well, like how his well-sculptured nose and high cheekbones were eminent on his face, but couldn’t hide the others beautiful features. Bow-shaped lips, the color more likely fell into the pinkish-red tone, but still looked natural on him.

Steak recalled that some people said that Red Wine looked like a vampire. Well, he truly did, but a breath-taking vampiric food soul nonetheless. And that’s not a thing that Steak will complain about.

Why did it take him so long to realize how beautiful Red Wine was?

Steak lowered his head until his lips were right in front of Red Wine’s forehead, and he placed a chaste kiss on the top of the other man’s head.

A kiss on the forehead usually meant I will protect you. It was the type of kiss that parents would give their children, siblings to siblings, and well, lovers to their loved ones.

Steak tried to not think what kind of relationships they could fall into. It’s easy to categorize, but it’s easier to ignore all the hidden meanings behind that.

The whole room was quiet. The kiss lingered for two more seconds before Steak hesitantly let go, didn’t want to make things stranger than it already were. He held Red Wine’s head closer, making his face hide into his chest.

It should be awkward, but it wasn’t. The action came in naturally as a breath, like that was something they could certainly do, given the right circumstance.

“Care to tell me what the fuck you think you’re doing?”

Of course, someone had to ruin the moment. And judging by the irritation mixed with confusion in Red Wine’s voice, he’s ready to snap at any time if Steak couldn’t calm him down.

“Just… let me indulge myself for a little bit longer,” Steak almost begged. He didn’t want that moment come to an end, not that soon.

“You’re really strange today, you know that?”

“And you’re still the usual a**hole that I’ve known for all my life, so there’s at least something’s still normal,” Steak retorted.

“Didn’t realize that you have more than one active cell in that muscular head of yours,” Red Wine bit back by a sneaky comment. They usually had conversations like that for years after all, that’s just how they communicated.

“Just shut up and let me enjoy the feeling of your hair, you buzzkill.”

Red Wine was quiet for a moment before he hesitantly added with a sigh, “… That sounds eerier than it should be.”

“Agree,” Steak nodded lightly, still didn’t let go of the other man. “For the record, I really like your hair. Don’t let anyone else touch it without letting me know.”

“Are you jealous?” Red Wine asked, a hint of amusement in his tone.

“Maybe,” Steak shrugged, there’s no need to admit that he felt a surge of jealousy at the imaginary sight that someone else besides him touches Red Wine’s hair. Steak liked to think that’s a privilege, and he wasn’t ready to let it go anytime soon.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I have no idea that I’m attracted to your hair until today, so “ridiculous” is still a weak word to describe this whole situation.”

“If you say so,” Red Wine nodded, didn’t have enough energy to argue further. To be honest, it’s nice being held like this by Steak and having his hair caressed by the other man’s fingers gently. Red Wine couldn’t imagine how a man like Steak could be gentle until now. Still, it’s funny to think that the horned food soul only acted like that with his male companion, not some fragile ladies or maidens.

“Will you let your hair down tomorrow?” Steak asked, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and jealousy sprung inside his chest at the imaginary scene when they go out and Red Wine once again let the whole world look at him like that.

“Depends on my mood,” Red Wine shrugged. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I like looking at you with your hair down,” Steak mumbled. “But I don’t like the idea of letting anyone else see that.”

“I’m not your private property, you know?”

“Just sayin’,” Steak sighed heavily, pulled himself back a little bit to look straight into Red Wine’s eyes. “I couldn’t force you to do or not do anything. I just… I feel jealous, I guess.”

“You are really strange today,” Red Wine smiled, shaking his head fondly. “But for some weird reasons, I actually like this version of you.”

“I could let him out more to entertain you if you want,” Steak offered.

“Tsk tsk, I don’t really want you to,” Red Wine shook his head again. “Exclusive for only me occasionally, can you do that? So I could think of letting fewer people see me with my hair down.”

“Doesn’t sound like a fair deal to me.”

“Add any condition you want and we could re-evaluate that.”

“… Whenever you’re not going out, don’t tie your hair up,” Steak mused after a quiet moment. “And let me play with your hair when we both have some free time.”

“Well, they’re not hard conditions to fulfill. So do we have a deal?”

“We’ve got a deal.” Steak nodded in agreement.

Red Wine chuckled, “Still, I need some time to get used to this strange-with-weird-fetishes you.”

“Just shut up.” Steak felt his cheeks were hotter with that chuckle, but still, his hands didn’t let go of the other’s hair. At least they got a deal now and he could continue to touch Red Wine’s hair after that so he could bear a little bit of embarrassment.

END.

Notes:

Well, they didn't have any real kiss in this fiction, I might make up for that by another fiction if any of you guys want me to.

Have fun reading this, and thank all of you for stopping by and giving me your attention!