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cakesunflower · 5 years

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Quiet Hours [College!Luke AU] Ch. 7

Chapter 7

INSTEAD OF FINISHING up her homework like she was meant to, Ophelia was leaning back in her wooden chair, scrolling through every social media she was a part of instead of writing her paper for her women and gender studies class. It wasn’t due until Friday night, and it being only six o’clock on a Wednesday gave her enough of an excuse to procrastinate. She had posted a selfie on her Snapchat, complaining about being bored despite having homework to do before busying herself by scrolling through Twitter.

It wasn’t long until she got a notification from Snapchat, telling her she had a message from Calum. They all had exchanged numbers, Snapchats, and Instagrams after going to the movies together the week before, though this is the one time there’s been any sort of communication between either group through them other than just liking pictures and viewing their Snapchat stories. Ophelia’s brows rose when she read Calum’s message of the guys and I are gonna be chilling later tonight with some wine and food and video games. You girls wanna come?

She blinked at the message before smiling fondly and looking at her friends. “Calum’s inviting us to hang out with him and the boys later. You guys down?”

The three other girls looked up at her before exchanging looks, shrugging and nodding as Laurel grinned, “wine Wednesday with cute boys? Hell yes.”

Ophelia snorted at her friend’s words, responding to Calum that they’d be there and bring a bottle as well. As she put her phone down, she felt a buzz of excitement at the prospect of spending time with Luke once again. Ophelia told herself to relax, reminding herself of the kind of guy Luke was—he wasn’t a bad person, not at all. It was just his continuous, suggestive comments that made Ophelia’s heart jump in her throat and thrilling tingles to arise in her skin. Truthfully, Ophelia couldn’t tell if he was joking or what whenever he made comments about the two of them, and as embarrassed and flustered as she got every time he brought it up, she found herself yearning for something to actually happen. Yet, she wasn’t sure if she actually liked the boy, or if she was merely attracted to him.

College boys were an enigma all on their own.

By the time the girls were done with their homework, it was seven-thirty, so on their way back to their dorm they stopped by the campus deli to eat dinner before going to their apartment to drop off their stuff. Ophelia swiped the unopened bottle of Pink Moscato from their kitchen before knocking on the door to the right of their apartment, being happily greeted by a smiling Ashton.

“Come on in,” he greeted, stepping aside to let the four girls inside. Seated on the couch in the living room opposite of the door were Crystal, Michael and Calum, controllers in both of the boys’ hands as they played a soccer video game on the TV and Xbox that was just a few feet away from the door. Crystal greeted the girls with a smile, but when neither boys’ attention strayed from the TV, Ashton shut the door and called, “hey, dickheads, we’ve got guests. Be social.”

The girls laughed lightly as Michael and Calum finally looked up, pausing the game to greet the girls by standing up and giving each of them a hug. Crystal got the boys to scoot over so at least one of the girls could sit with them, and once Tanya settled on the end, Isabelle and Laurel sat on the two chairs on either side of the couch facing the wooden coffee table.

Ophelia, who was still standing, looked at Ashton and held up the bottle as she quirked a brow, “we drinking?”

The hazel eyed boy grinned, dimples in view as he nodded his head towards the kitchen. “Cups are in the kitchen.”

She followed him into the joint kitchen, catching sight of the other Pinot Noir and Merlot bottles on the counter, as well as the couple of bottles and cans of beer. As Ashton pulled out the red solo cups and Ophelia uncapped her bottle, she saw Luke emerge from the hallway, dressed in grey sweatpants and a black hoodie that read FUCK OFF in an intricate font. The blonde stopped at the end of the hall as he took notice of how the room doubled in people the last time he was in there, brows raising in both confusion and mild surprise.

“Hey, bro,” Ashton greeted as he came to stand next to Ophelia, with plastic cups in either hand. Luke looked over at his friend, giving him that typical sup nod that guys do, before doing a slight double take at the girl standing next to him, eyes ever so slightly widening. “You want wine or beer?”

Luke wandered over, standing on the other side of the counter opposite of Ophelia with his hands splayed out on top of the marble top. He kept his blue eyed gaze on the brunette, answering his friend’s question with, “beer.”

Ashton reached over and handed his friend the can of Corona, which Luke took without straying his stare from Ophelia. The girl, however, dropped her gaze as she got the bottle open and took a cup, pouring some of the pink liquid into it. Requests from the others in the living room sounded as Crystal came by to help, the two girls and Ashton getting the drinks for the other lazy bums.

As Crystal and Ashton walked into the living room to hand Michael, Calum, Laurel and Tanya their drinks, Ophelia stayed back to pour Isabelle’s wine. Unfortunately, Luke stayed put on the other side while lifting the can and chin tilting back as he sipped his beer, gaze still on Ophelia which only caused the girl’s hand to shake as she poured the wine.

He was making her nervous and Luke knew it, smirking into the small rim of the can as he watched the way Ophelia bit her lower lip as she willed her hand to stop shaking like she was having a seizure. Please stop looking at me, she silently begged, her gaze on the liquid she was pouring while swallowing inaudibly.

Luke found it endearingly amusing, and the knowledge of him seemingly having such an effect on Ophelia only served to swell his ego and make his heart do stupid leaps in his chest. When Ophelia finished pouring, she mentally thanked God for the finished act as she picked up the two cups and walked around the counter, ignoring the heat of Luke’s gaze as she handed Isabelle one of the cups before taking a sip of her own. The sweet taste danced on her tongue nicely as she took a big gulp, despite knowing that unlike vodka, she got drunk off of wine surprisingly fast.

Calum had been nice enough to bring out two floor pillows he apparently had in his room, and Ophelia sat down on one in front the coffee table and felt her back go slightly rigid as Luke sat down right to her left. Ophelia silently sipped her wine as Michael and Calum’s game ended as there was a unanimous agreement to find something to watch on Netflix, and from the corner of her eye saw Luke lean against the table with his right knee brought up and left leg folded, arm propped up on his knee as he took sips from his can.

Truthfully, they were all having a nice time; they had decided to watch Stranger Things since Laurel and Isabelle hadn’t seen it it, prompting Michael to choke on his wine before quickly playing the show. The bottles were brought to put on the coffee table for refills, and Ophelia was on her third glass while Luke had changed from beer to his own cup of wine. He was on his second cup, while the warm and fuzzy feeling Ophelia got from drinking wine took its effect rather quickly.

She sank down slightly where she sat on the floor, the nearly empty cup in her hand as the light feeling overcame her. Honestly, Ophelia loved being wine-drunk; it made her feel calm and want to cuddle with anyone willing, whereas any other alcohol got her dizzy and nauseated. After she finished off the drink, she twisted around to put her cup on the coffee table before almost forcefully leaning back with her head lolling to rest on the wooden table instead of keeping her gaze on the television right in front of her. She felt goosebumps rising on her skin, the apartment colder than what the girls keep their own.

“You tired?” came Luke’s quiet, deep voice that startled Ophelia to straighten her head. She turned her head to look at Luke at her left, who was comfortably leaning back on the table with his gaze on her. Even when he sat he was taller, his eyes lowered to lock with hers.

Ophelia smiled a grin that Luke found utterly adorable, peering up at him with green eyes that were ever so slightly glazed over. She was a bit drunk off the wine, both of them knew, so all of her previously existing shyness around Luke was out of the window for the night. “No, just cold,” she answered, legs splayed out in front of her and arms crossed. She was only wearing black leggings and a simple purple V-neck.

“Yeah?” Luke quirked a brow, mindful to keep his voice low since everyone was watching the show. He then sat up slightly, right hand reaching to his upper back to grab his sweatshirt from behind before proceeding to lift it off his head. His blonde curls became even more tousled then they already were as the material came off and he held his sweatshirt out to her with a small smile. “Here.”

She felt her heart thud in her chest at his sweet offer, her smile widening and cheekbones rising at the action. Luke, a bit inhibited as well from the beers and wine he consumed, was extremely tempted to just lightly pinch her cheeks between his pointer finger and thumb. Ophelia took the clothing piece and pulled it on, oblivious to the others sitting behind them and probably watching them as she pulled her hair out from under the sweatshirt and was suddenly intoxicated by the familiar scent of Luke, as well as some nice laundry detergent.

Luke ran both of his hands through his hair to push it back, taking in a breath at the sight of the brunette practically swimming in his sweatshirt. He leaned back against the table and tried to focus his gaze back on the show, but he kept glancing at the girl to his right in his sweatshirt, looking so fucking adorable yet, somehow, unmistakably desirable. The fact that she could appear like both of those things simultaneously was driving Luke’s already tipsy mind slightly more crazy.

It didn’t help that at one point, while they were halfway through the first season of the show, Ophelia’s head began resting against Luke’s upper right arm since his height didn’t make it easy for her to reach his shoulder. As she did so, Luke tensed up at the unexpected contact as the familiar strawberry scent became stronger with Ophelia’s head right there, yet he found himself relaxing almost immediately after. Glancing down at the girl, he saw her watching the show, a content expression on her face, while his eyes then flickered to her lips; pink, pouty lips that he always found himself looking at whenever she came into view.

By the time the group of them finished the first season, it was nearly two in the morning and everyone decided to call it a night. It was Wednesday, after all, and they all had classes in the morning—although, the boys’ had afternoon classes. The girls began standing up, Tanya slightly stumbling because of the alcohol coursing through her system, while Crystal bid them goodnight and followed Michael into his bedroom.

Everyone was getting up to either go into their rooms or apartment, yet Luke and Ophelia remained on the floor. She was still leaning her head against Luke’s arm, swimming in Luke’s sweatshirt and, God, the position was so comfortable, she didn’t want to get up. Conveniently, the rest of the boys had gone back into their rooms after cleaning up the living room and bidding goodbye to the girls, most of whom had left. Isabelle stood in the doorway, quirking a brow down at the still seated people.

“Lia? You coming?” she asked, light amusement dancing in her tone as she kept the door open.

The green eyed girl, for the first time since she laid her head against Luke’s arm, finally lifted it to look at her friend. Luke’s eyebrows furrowed lightly at the loss of contact, his gaze going to Ophelia as she hummed. “Yeah, I guess so,” she said lightly, the warmth still in the pit of her belly from the wine. It felt so nice.

“Or you could stay,” Luke blurted, clamping his mouth shut right as the words slipped past his mouth. Ophelia’s gaze snapped over to him as their eyes locked, with him ignoring the knowing quirk in Isabelle’s eyebrow. Fucking hell, did I just say that? Luke took in the surprised expression Ophelia wore, clearly displaying what he was feeling. Had he really just asked her to stay?

Ophelia didn’t know what that meant. Did he want her to stay just to stay, or did he want to do something? Either way, the airy feeling in her chest and the lack of shyness had her smiling that lazy smile she did whenever wine was involved. “Okay,” she agreed, her tone soft yet loud enough for both Isabelle and Luke to hear.

The black haired girl then took it as her cue to leave, bidding them goodnight that she doubted they heard as the door shut behind her. Now it was just Luke and Ophelia in the living room, on the couch as they stared at each other in silence and wondered where the hell did they go from here, after Luke told her to stay. Truthfully, he didn’t think she would say yes; the words had just slipped past his mouth without the normal filter in his brain, taken down by the alcohol he had consumed. It was the same reason why Ophelia had agreed so easily.

Luke’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, Ophelia’s gaze flickering to it as she thought what it would be like to kiss him there. “D’you. . . You wanna head to bed?”

Her heart lurched in her throat excitedly before she nodded, watching as Luke got to his feet and offered his hand to her. Rolling her lower lip into her mouth, Ophelia took his left hand in her right, feeling the cool metal of his rings against her warm skin as he effortlessly pulled her to her feet, before leading her down the hall to his bedroom after shutting off the living room lights, yet never letting go of her hand. All the while, Ophelia was trying her best to stop the smile on her lips from growing, stemming from both the wine and the fact that she was about to go into Luke’s room for the second time.

Luke asked if she wanted to use the bathroom before going to bed, and she nodded before quickly walking into it across his room, shutting the door behind her and quickly emptying her alcohol heavy bladder. As she washed her hands, Ophelia looked at herself in the mirror, letting out a slow breath. Luke’s sweatshirt was taking up her entire frame, ending a little past her mid-thigh, but it smelled just like him that she was reveling in the scent and the feel of the soft material.

Before leaving the bathroom, she caught sight of the bottle of the mint flavored Listerine, pouting her lips in thought as she wondered if she should use it. Going to bed with wine breath, no matter how good it tasted, wasn’t something she wanted to do. And going to her apartment where her toothbrush is isn’t something she was up for, either, because it meant leaving Luke’s apartment. It’d be awkward if she just came back after brushing her teeth, wouldn’t it?

So with a huff, she poured some of the liquid into her mouth without touching the rim, gargling and rinsing her mouth before drying her face and going back to Luke’s room. The very thought of entering his room thrilled her because even though she doubted anything would happen except them going to sleep, merely sleeping in the same bed as Luke was exciting. Briefly, Ophelia hoped he wouldn’t end up sleeping on the couch—it would just defeat the whole purpose of this.

Entering the familiar bedroom, she offered Luke an easy smile, something she wouldn’t have been able to do if it weren’t for the alcohol still mixed in with her bloodstream, and shut the door behind her. Luke had replaced his sweatpants with a pair of red and blue plaid pajama bottoms, his fingers ringless yet looking just as enticing. Pulling the covers back of his bed, he nodded towards it with a quirked brow and light smirk, “bed time?”

She ignored the pleasant tightness in her stomach as she heard his thick accent, nodding as she toed off her socks since her shoes were somewhere in the living room. Ophelia didn’t mind sleeping in her leggings, though as she neared the bed, she pulled her arms from out of the sleeves of the sweatshirt before pulling the material off altogether.

As she draped it on the chair by Luke’s desk, he questioned, “you’re not gonna get cold?”

Ophelia bit her lower lip, the action lighting a fire in the pit of Luke’s stomach as she walked over with a playful grin. “Why need a sweatshirt to keep me warm when I’ve got you?” she rebuked easily, the words flowing from her mouth so effortlessly that she didn’t have a moment to think about them. Not that she would—inhibited-Ophelia meant shy-Ophelia was nowhere to be seen.

Luke’s mouth dried at her words, inhaling a sharp breath as her grin widened and she crawled onto his bed, getting onto the side against the wall as the boy who was older than her by a mere year stared down at her in mild disbelief. He wasn’t sure if he was stunned that Ophelia had just said that, or because of the fact that she sitting on her bed, ready to go to sleep with him. And by sleep, it was meant to be the most innocent of things, no matter how badly Luke’s own inhibited self wanted to climb right on top of her.

Running his fingers through his curly hair, Luke turned off the light, enveloping the room in darkness save for the light streaming from the window. The streetlamp down below was quite bright, thin streams of light filtering through the blinds since Luke hadn’t gotten around to getting a curtain. Luke got under the covers, however, he didn’t lay down just yet. Ophelia was still sitting up, legs crossed and back against the cold wall as Luke leaned against the frame of the bed, curious as to why she wasn’t laying down.

The streams of the light from outside were laying across her face, green eyes glinting against them and pouty lips standing out. Luke found himself swallowing a newly formed lump in his throat, silently wondering to himself why in the world this girl had such an effect on him. She was just sitting there in pure silence, absolutely no sounds coming from anyone or anything, until Ophelia’s hand reached out and grasped one of the chains around Luke’s neck. He stayed still as her light fingers twirled the pendant between her fingers, the metal cool against her skin, as she leaned forward slightly to examine it.

It was a key, she noticed, and with a giggly smile she inquired, “what does the key unlock?” Before Luke could answer, she let out an excited gasp, eyes widening against the now one stream of light across her eye since she leaned forward. “Oh, my God—is it the key to your heart?”

Luke had to press his lips together to prevent the laugh from bubbling past, which was difficult because all he wanted to do was giggle right alongside the pretty girl. Her question was so sincere and innocent, making Luke’s heart do all kinds of weird shit before he murmured thickly, “yeah, sweetheart, it is.”

His answer brought the smile back on Ophelia’s face and Luke, feeling just as fuzzy in the stomach and chest and maybe head as Ophelia, wanted nothing more than to see her keep smiling forever. He watched as she kept her leaned forward position, left hand in her lap as her fingers of the other played with the key pendant. Ophelia tilted her head to the side, gaze still on the necklace as she mused thoughtfully, “I had a journal once, and I had to use a key to unlock it so I could write. It had all my secrets and thoughts and feelings.”

Luke realized that when Ophelia spoke with any type or amount of alcohol running through her system, she had the tendency of rambling ever so slightly, speaking without pause. He thought it was real fucking adorable. Luke’s head tilted back just a little, hooded-eyed gaze on the brunette as he inquired quietly, “yeah? What kind of thoughts and feelings would you write?”

Ophelia paused in her playing of the pendant ever so slightly, before the alluring smile grew on her pouty lips as she bit her lower one. Luke let out a soft breath at the sight because, holy shit, it was a sight. “Thoughts like. . .” she trailed off, her smile widening as she pressed the tip of her tongue to the roof of her mouth. God knows Ophelia knew how risky her next few words were about to be, but the rational and logical part of her wasn’t really present in the moment, so she couldn’t give a shit. Besides, if she embarrassed herself then, well, she could blame the alcohol. Her hazel eyes flickered up to meet Luke’s blue, the two of them taking that moment to realize how close they were. She was leaning forward and so was Luke, their actions slight yet enough to gradually close their distance. “How stupidly handsome you are,” Ophelia finished, her heart stuttering as she said this despite the somewhat nervous laugh that fell along with her words.

Luke’s own was at the risk of short circuiting as his mind registered her words, full lips parting as Ophelia’s gaze dropped to them. Her skin was warming because of how he was suddenly looking at her, gaze focused on her and only her as Luke shifted ever so slightly where he sat. Both of their hearts had picked up their paces, while both Luke and Ophelia wondered if the other could hear the way their hearts threatened to burst out of their chests. Both of them also knew what could potentially be coming next, which only enlivened them all the more. Luke found himself being unable to breathe; was it getting hot in here?

Honestly, the way his mind and body reacted to Ophelia was unfamiliar. He couldn’t remember the last time a girl made him feel the way Ophelia did.

She opened her mouth and Luke desperately realized she wasn’t done, practically twitching to hear what else she had to say as the anticipation and eagerness built up in him heavily. “And. . .” she began once more, her tongue briefly rolling over her lower lip and Luke practically choked as he suppressed the groan from sounding through his throat. Seriously. The power she had over him was ridiculous. Ophelia’s eyes were on him once more, her head tilting to the side before she finished effortlessly suggestively, “feelings of how badly I want you to kiss me.”

It was like he was finally being given permission for something he’d been craving for, for so long.

Because Ophelia was sitting on top of the covers, Luke’s hands grabbed her thighs and forced her legs to spread to bring her onto his lap, causing her to straddle him in one swift motion. She didn’t even have the chance to gasp at the sudden action when her lips were claimed by Luke’s, eyes immediately shutting at the feel of the soft skin against her own. Ophelia’s stomach was lurching excitedly and Luke’s mind was racing, but both of them found themselves melting into the feel of the other’s lips.

Luke’s fingers dug into the material of her leggings on her thighs, their bodies pressed up against each other’s as Ophelia’s hands reached up to cup his jaw, loving the way his facial hair tickled her palms. Luke’s tongue swiped across her lower lip, causing her to part her lips almost immediately for their tongues to meet in the middle. The kiss wasn’t too fast or too slow, paced just right as Ophelia tasted the wine on his lips and he tasted the minty mouthwash on hers, yet both of them reveling in them.

Her lips were just as soft as Luke had imagined, moving against his own in a way that easily hardened his dick right under Ophelia. She, on the other hand, could feel exactly what was going on, her skin lighting up with a rousing fire as her hands went from Luke’s face to his hair, threading her fingers through the curly locks the way she had wanted to for so long. She pressed herself into him, her chest pressing against his own as Luke’s hands went from her thighs to around her butt, tightening his grip to pull her even closer.

Neither could get enough, wanting to feel as close as they could as Luke softly bit at her lower lip, pulling it towards him as both watched the arousing sight through hooded eyes and heavy breaths. Luke felt his stomach clenching as he released Ophelia’s lip and the way her lips were parted so she could take some breaths, but he wasn’t done. Leaning forward one more, Luke’s lips attached to her jaw, trailing kisses down to where it met her neck before leaving even more down the length of it.

He left a fire in their wake on Ophelia’s skin, both from the kisses and the way his beard scratched at her skin, left hand at the back of his head and hands threading through his curls while her other hand lightly pressed against chest. Ophelia tilted her head back, eyes closed in utmost pleasure as her heart beat wildly in her chest to accompany Luke’s mouth working wonders. She felt him bite lightly at her sweet spot, the area just above where her neck and shoulder met, and her eyes squeezed shut as a shuddering breath expelled from her lungs.

Her body felt hot in the most glorious of ways as Luke bit a little more harshly, eliciting a quiet moan from Ophelia as his tongue soothed the spot he just marked, prompting the Australian to smirk against her skin. It felt just as soft as it looked, just like Luke had imagined.

His welcomed assault on her neck continued, biting and sucking down her neck and the column of her throat, even across her exposed collarbones as a whimper passed her lips when Luke bit down once again. The way he was working his mouth and the sensation left behind by his beard was enough for Ophelia’s grip on his hair to tighten, only making Luke smirk smugly against her skin.

He was aware things couldn’t go further than this, seeing as both of them were kind of drunk, and Luke honestly didn’t want to do anything other than this unless Ophelia was sure without the alcohol in their system. So he reveled in the way her ass felt through her leggings and the softness of her skin as he left her a countless amount of hickeys, coloring her flushed skin all the more. Ophelia tugged on his hair as he bit into her skin for the last time, eliciting a throaty groan from the blonde against her skin.

After that one last mark, Luke lifted his head to reconnect their lips, both of them easily melting into the softness and taste of the other while their erratic hearts ran wild inside of them. But neither of them could focus on anything but the fact that they were finally kissing after weeks of flirty looks and suggestive comments, and that it felt so fucking good.

tags: @crownedbyluke @irwinkitten @glitterprincelu @softforcal @mgcvocals @hotmessmichael @meetashthere @astroashtonio @hereforlukescruff @c-sainthood @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @babygirlcashton @calntynes @invisiblexcth @soulmatecashton @calumsmermaid @kchillout @thewackywriter @akacalciumhood @calumculture @ohhmuke @empathycth @flannelpunkcalum @poppedpins @novacanecalum @walkedhomealone @calistheloml @gettingjillywithit @hearts-to-the-sky @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-stan4lyfe @all-i-want-is2b-loved-by-you @calumthoodsyonce @xhaileyreneex @rosecoloredash @asht0ns-world @cxddlyash @mysteriouslycali @lmao5sosimagines @monsteramongmikey @calteahood @5secondssofssummer @sublimehood @biwriting @findingliam-o @isabella-mae13

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scarletraven1001 · 6 years

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Faint

38 - “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

A fluffy Vegebul one-shot for prompt #38 on this post, requested by @saraelee. I hope you like it!

Also on Ao3.

All Fics in this Series: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9

Faint

8-8-8-8-8

He was hotter than the desert sun.

Bulma stared, barely able to keep her drool under control as the most delectable member of the male species to have ever walked the planet strode calmly into her small electronic repair shop.

She was quite convinced that he was a god in disguise.

Piercing eyes in the darkest shade of ebony sat above a thin nose and plump lips. His face, punctuated by high, deeply-defined cheekbones, was edged by a sinfully sharp jawline. His riotous black hair held slightly reddish undertones, making the strands seem like flames rising above his head.

His body was narrow but absolutely jacked, and she nearly keened as she watched the thick muscles of his arms flex beneath his tight sleeves.

His thick brows were furrowed, as was seemingly usual for him, and he walked with measured, light-footed steps towards the counter where she stood. She held her breath, hardly daring to move as the man’s eyes roved the shop, a hand in one pocket as the other clutched another broken mobile phone.

He seemed to go through those phones awfully quickly.

He had been in the store more than a few times, bringing phones usually ruined by strong blunt force impact.

By the light sheen of sweat that typically covered him, making his already tight shirts stick deliciously to his well-formed chest, she surmised that he must be in a rather physical line of work that was more than a little harmful to small electronics in his pockets.

She smiled as he approached, pushing her chin-length blue hair away from her face as she willed her stupid heart to stop pounding so hard.

“Hello again, how may we be of service?” she asked, blue eyes wide and bright, and entirely unsurprised by how he refused to meet her gaze.

He seemed to basically ignore her whenever he came in, after all.

“Kakarot. Is he here?”

He was truly, very predictable.

“In the back. Let me just call him,” she said, before she turned, walking into the stock room where she knew that her assistant, Goku, also known as Kakarot, was doing inventory.

“Goku,” she called softly, laughing slightly at the confounded look on his face as he compared stock numbers. “Your friend is here.”

“Oh, Vegeta?” he asked, carefully placing the items down before standing up. He shook his head, drawing the shaggy strands of his dark hair away from his face. “Lemme just go see what he wants.”

“I am pretty sure he broke another phone,” she chuckled.

Goku shook his head. “I’ve known Vegeta since High School. He was never this clumsy.”

“Well, accidents happen,” she answered, watching as Goku headed out to the main store to speak to the handsome man who was not-so-patiently waiting to be served.

Bulma hung back, snickering as she heard Goku give the man a bit of scolding on how bad he was with phones.

However, her interest was piqued when Vegeta answered Goku in a very low, urgent whisper.

Goku’s brows scrunched together, and he answered in a whisper that was not quite as soft and urgent.

“I told you *murmur* just ask her *murmur* coffee shop *murmur*…”

The rest of Goku’s sentence turned inaudible as the phone beside him started ringing, and Bulma walked out to the shop to pick it up.

The two men stopped talking as she spoke to another customer on the line, and as she ended the call, she realized that Goku was watching her, and the flame-haired hunk was, as always, looking anywhere but at her.

The silence was making Bulma uncomfortable, so she forced out a laugh, looking at both men in turn.

“This climate here is something else, isn’t it? It’s so hot! When I moved here from West City, I didn’t realize that the heat was gonna be so bad,” she said.

“Gee, Bulma. The weather? Really? That’s your big ice breaker?” she thought to herself, mentally whacking her head against a wall.

“Bulma, it’s a desert. Of course it’s hot,” Goku answered.

Vegeta just glared at Goku.

Goku looked up at the other man, a bright smile on his face. “Hey Vegeta. I’m totally stumped about what to do with your phone. But Bulma here, she’s a genius, she can probably help you.”

Bulma stared at Goku in surprise, before she glanced at the shorter man who was glaring icy daggers at her employee.

Also… was it her imagination, or had Mr. Hotness Incarnate gone pale?

“Tch,” he spat out, and with neither a glance nor word to her, he spun on his heel, and stomped angrily out of the store, ruined phone still in hand.

She was shocked, but not shocked enough not to take notice of his perfectly rounded bum as he stormed away.

“What was that about?” Bulma blinked.

Goku just laughed. “Oh, he’s just shy, Bulma. He’s a nice guy.”

Bulma watched as Vegeta got into his car that was parked up front, his defined features more than nice even from a distance.

She snickered. “I guess you’re right.”

8-8-8-8-8

When she moved to South City six months ago to start her small electronics business, she had known that it was a desert city, and that it was going to be hot.

Bulma had underestimated just how sweltering it actually would be.

It was aggravated even more by the fact that the shop’s air-conditioning seemed to be stuttering.

At the moment, she was double-checking the items they had on display, and she reached out to grab a stool when she realized that the heat was making her nauseated.

Goku would not be coming in for his shift for two more hours, and Bulma felt her light-headedness worsen as she realized that she was in no condition to work that day.

She tried to stand again, thinking of reaching for her phone that she had placed on the counter, so she could ask him to come in earlier.

She had just made it to her feet, when she heard the store door swing open.

She turned to face the newcomer, but a surge of pure vertigo seized her, making her feel like her head had swollen to twice its size, and she stared in horror as everything seemingly tilted to the right, and rapidly rushed out of focus.

“Are you alright?” a familiar, deep voice asked from right beside her, and she caught a glimpse of plump lips and dark, narrowed eyes as she felt the world slip from beneath her feet.

“Ve- geta…” she managed to whisper right before everything faded to black.

8-8-8-8-8

Consciousness came back to her very slowly, and the first things she felt were the hard appendages wrapped around her torso in an iron-like grip.

She was too dizzy to struggle, not even as she felt the said things tighten, pulling her flush against an unyielding surface lined by firm warmth.

She blinked tired eyes, looking around her slowly as things gradually began to make sense...

She was on the floor, in her shop.

It was hot, but she had a small desk fan beside her, fanning cooler air onto her face.

The cage that surrounded her was of flesh, and she looked up in surprise as she realized that the warmth belonged to a man with thickly-defined muscles on his arms and chest, and a very striking face topped by rebellious flame-like hair.

“Vegeta?” she asked hoarsely, and she watched as his brows furrowed, before he let one of his arms fall away from her.

He had been holding her up, nestled against his chest, and he lifted his hand again, now holding an open bottle of water to her lips.

“Drink,” he said, his voice soft but authoritative, and Bulma gladly took a few gulps of the cold liquid before she closed her eyes against the remaining nausea.

“What… what happened?” she asked.

She felt a rumble shake his chest, and she glanced back at him to see his dark eyes narrow.

“You fainted. I pulled up that fan, then I got water from my car fridge to cool you down. I called Kakarot, he is on his way to pick up your shift.”

“Oh… thank you,” she said, smiling gratefully up at him.

She watched as his lips lifted up into a smirk.

“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, woman… If you wanted my attention so much, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, indignation pouring out of every pore as she hissed, “Excuse me? I did not faint to get your attention! I can’t believe you, you’re such an asshole! Ow…” she cut herself off as a headache began to pound at the side of her head.

He was still smirking as she continued.

“Asshole. And here I thought you were cute-”

“I think you’re cute, too.”

All of Bulma’s thoughts ran into a screeching halt as she stared dumbly up at him. “Huh?”

She noted with mild amusement that his deeply reddened cheeks and wide eyes made it look like he was even more surprised by his words than she was.

He flushed, stuttering. “I… I… What I meant was-”

“Bulma! Are you ok?” Goku’s voice cut into the moment, and Vegeta looked nearly constipated as they both watched the other man jog up to them.

“Jeez,” he said, kneeling beside Vegeta to look down at her. “You’re so pale! Good thing Vegeta dropped by.”

“Yeah,” she said meekly as she felt some of the dizziness fade away.

It did not escape her notice that she was still in Vegeta’s incredible arms.

“And I guess you finally spoke to each other, then!”

Vegeta suddenly straightened, pulling slightly away from her. “Kakarot, I shall take her home. Woman, you will give me directions.”

She just nodded as he helped her stand up, and she swayed slightly, holding on to the side of her heavy head as Vegeta wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her.

She held onto him as well, and she nearly fainted again at the feel of the amazing muscles around his abdomen.

He helped her take small steps forward, and they were almost at the door when Goku spoke up again.

“Vegeta! This is great! You can finally stop breaking your phones on purpose just to come see her!”

She heard Vegeta choke, before he turned around to face Goku with a snarl on his lips.

“Kakarot would you shut the hell up?!” he yelled.

Bulma just gaped.

He… broke his phones… so he could see her?

Goku was grinning from ear to ear. “Bulma, I told you he was just shy. But don’t worry, he’s an engineer who owns a contracting firm, he can afford the phones.”

Bulma hid her grin behind a hand as she tightened her arm around Vegeta.

She could barely believe it.

The guy she had been crushing on, for weeks, seemed to like her, too.

They made their way to his car, where Vegeta strapped her into the front passenger seat.

He was still completely red in the face, and Bulma smiled as he walked into the driver’s side, and tensely asked for directions to her house.

She began to feel better in the cool air-conditioning of his – rather expensive – car, and she sat back as she pointed him to the right direction.

As they drove, she thought back to the conversation that she had almost overheard between Goku and Vegeta.

“I told you *murmur* her out *murmur* coffee shop *murmur*…”

And she imaginatively filled in the blanks as they approached her place.

“I told you, just ask her out. Take her to the coffee shop nearby.”

By the time they reached the small bungalow that she called home, Bulma had made up her mind.

He got out of the car, helping her down as well, and slowly walked her to her front door.

She fumbled for the keys in her pocket, and as she stuck the key in the lock, she turned to face him again.

“Are you going to be alright?” he asked, brows furrowed in concern.

“Yes. Thank you so much for your help,” she said, smiling up at him as brightly as she can.

He flushed, nodded, then reached into his pocket, pulling out a small card.

He handed the card to her. “My number. Call me if you need anything.”

She held the calling card to her chest as she watched him turn to walk away.

“Hey, Vegeta?”

He paused.

“Would you…” she began, feeling heat rush into her cheeks. “Would you like to get coffee sometime?”

He turned back to her, a small grin lifting the sides of his lips even as the deep blush remained on his cheeks.

He nodded. “Just make sure not to faint on me again.”

She grinned back. “Deal.”

8-8-8-8-8

End :)

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