Her Lullaby (PakuMachi fluff)
Hewwo @bijoutsu tis I, your Secret Santa! Thanks so much to @hxhgiftexchange for hosting this great event!!!
You asked for Machi/Pakunoda fluff, and so I hope you enjoy this fic of these gals being pals. ;3
Pakunoda felt the steam leaking out from the adjacent bathroom to settle upon her skin. She sat with her legs bent and ankles crossed, her back against the cinder blocks, a book held firmly in one hand. The light in the barracks, as she so fondly referred to their living space, was abominable, and she squinted just to make out the text. When it came time to flip the page, she found the pages damp from condensation, and with a reflexive roll of her eyes, she leaned down to rest the book on the ground, spine exposed, to mark her place.
Leaning her head back against the cool wall, Pakunoda sighed, almost allowing herself to slip into an illusion of comfort. She had never longed for it, not really, but there were moments when she was pleased to imagine the luxury of lying spread-eagle on a bed whose edges she couldn’t simultaneously reach. With her eyes closed, she pictured a deep red comforter, decorated at the corners with frivolous tassels, an unnecessary number of pillows adorned near the headboard.
“You don’t have to dream about me, you know,” Machi said, wringing the water from her hair as she emerged from the bathroom. “I’m right here.”
“Don’t be too disappointed, but my fantasy didn’t involve you,” Pakunoda said, beckoning. “I suppose it could have, if you’d only let me finish.”
Wrapped in a robe that concealed her form, Machi perched on the bottom bunk, discarding the damp towel before lying on her back, her head nesting in the open space Pakunoda had provided. She fished a cell phone from the pocket of her robe and raised it to conceal her face. “Sorry to disturb you. Feel free to continue.”
Pakunoda instead trailed her fingers through Machi’s hair, combing through the smooth tresses and gently detangling the few knots she encountered. “I’ll save it for later.”
Shutting her eyes, Machi lowered her phone to her lips, relaxing into the gesture. With eyes as still as steel, Machi’s soft, contented exhale served as Pakunoda’s only affirmation. When she fingers grazed Machi’s scalp, she found her skin to be hot to the touch and flushed, and she frowned.
“You shouldn’t take such hot showers,” Pakunoda scolded, pressing the tip of her finger to Machi’s nose.
Without looking, Machi swatted the finger away. “What, are you worried about the water bill? I don’t think the boss is gonna chew me out for that.”
“I’m a bit more concerned about your health.”
Machi pinched her brows before peering up at Pakunoda. “What for?”
Pakunoda exhaled through her teeth and seized either side of Machi’s face to ensure her attention. “You were shot. You’re injured. Remember?”
“Oh, yeah.”
At this, Pakunoda rolled her eyes before reaching for a small case off the nightstand. After lighting a cigarette and taking a drag, she shook her head. “Can’t you stitch yourself up?”
“Hmm…” Machi laid her phone on the mattress beside her, folding her hands atop her chest like a mockery of prayer. “Dunno. Never had to try.”
“Might be something worth considering, don’t you think?”
Machi shrugged, her shoulders pressing against Pakunoda’s shins. “Nah,” she said. “I think I’ll just let it go, see what happens. I’d like to get a taste of how it feels to really heal.”
“Masochist.” The comment earned Pakunoda a sharp jab to her stomach, delivered by Machi’s quick fist. It didn’t faze her, just made her scowl.
“No, just curious.”
Pakunoda caught Machi’s hand before it could return to her side, and though Machi initially resisted out of instinct, she relaxed in Pakunoda’s warm and tender hold. When Machi closed her eyes, Pakunoda found herself soothed by the sight, and she began to hum a soft, simple tune as she wound her fingers around Machi’s, pressing the pads of her fingers against her knuckles.
Machi turned her head so that her cheek lay against Pakunoda’s calf. With her phone now resting flat against her chest, she raised her free hand to trace idle paths along the exposed skin, following the melody until it faded into silence. “That sounds familiar.”
“It’s a lullaby,” Pakunoda said, releasing Machi’s hand in favor of combing through her hair once more. “I can’t remember the words.”
“Ms. Perfect Memory can’t remember something?” Peeking out from under damp bangs, Machi flashed a wry smile, small enough to go unnoticed by anyone but Pakunoda. “That’s surprising.”
The fingers in her hair hesitated, pausing near enough to her ears to make her shiver. Pakunoda raised her eyes to the metal bars of the bunk above as though searching for a memory. “We must have heard it in Meteor City. Those days are a bit hazy for me.”
Machi shifted so she could raise her hand to cup Pakunoda’s cheek, fingertips spanning from the corner of her lips to just below her eye. “Me, too,” she said, idly tracing the ridge of bone that curved along Pakunoda’s face. “Probably for the best. Not much good came from that place.”
With a quirk of a smile, Pakunoda tilted her head so she could align her lips against Machi’s palm. “It wasn’t all bad,” she said tenderly, lowering her lids so her lashes were like curtains. “Though your hair was really terrible.”
Machi pouted. “It wasn’t as bad as Uvogin’s.”
“I should have shaved that mess off myself,” Pakunoda said. “We really were too lenient.”
They laughed, the sound of it echoing off the cold stone walls, and once it subsided, Machi sat up to face Pakunoda. Her hair hung in damp strands against her face and neck, and small droplets fell from the ends onto Pakunoda’s legs and the sheets below. She brushed some of it behind her ear. “It’s almost long enough to braid now.”
“Want me to cut it again?”
“After the last time?” Machi grimaced. “No thanks, babe. You might be a good shot, but you sure as hell can’t cut straight.”
Frowning, Pakunoda flicked her nose. “Don’t be rude. I know you liked it.”
“I did not,” Machi insisted. “It was awful.”
“Mmm.” Pakunoda leaned forward, guiding both hands on either side of her head to hold her still, nails grazing her scalp. “You liked this part, though. My hands in your hair, being so close to me…”
With flushed cheeks, Machi tried to turn away, but she was restricted and settled for averting her eyes. “You’re not supposed to pry…”
The flash in Pakunoda’s eyes betrayed her mischief. “I didn’t.”
Machi’s swift backhanded blow was not meant to harm, just to stun. Pakunoda laughed it off, drawing her close enough to brush noses. So close their eyelashes nearly overlapped, they lingered in each other’s warmth, Machi’s hands falling to rest on Pakunoda’s shoulders. Pakunoda placed a lazy kiss on her cheek and remained there, at peace for a moment.
When Pakunoda realized Machi’s weight had shifted and her breathing had slowed, she nudged her. “You shouldn’t fall asleep like this,” she said softly. “You’ll get sick.”
Machi didn’t answer, just exhaled and settled against her, and though her exhaustion seemed genuine, Pakunoda had her doubts.
Rolling her eyes, Pakunoda leaned her body against Machi to support her so that she could swing her legs over the edge of the bed. She drew Machi close to herself before reclining, guiding her head to rest atop her chest as she lay down. Like a child, Machi curled into Pakunoda’s side, one hand curled into a limp fist against her stomach, her lips parted as she breathed.
Pakunoda brushed a hand down the length of Machi’s side, rising above where she knew the wound to be, before returning to stroke her hair, easing it away from her face. She had already given in before she’d protested. There was softness in her yet.
“Fine, you can stay like this for now,” Pakunoda said, inclining her head to press a kiss to Machi’s forehead. She sighed and closed her eyes, listening to Machi’s heartbeat like a lullaby. “Just for a little while.”
