Pairings: Ulquiorra x Orihime
Timeline: AU, though Orihime is 17 if you want a rough approximation.
Warnings: Ridiculous situation, fluff and a sexy pizza boy. Slightly crackish.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.
Authors Note: Bored authoress equals ridiculous story.
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When do stories ever happen on a Tuesday? Tuesday's are good days. They're after the dreaded Monday's but before the hump day—not that hump days weren't great either. Typically, Friday's and Saturday's are used for partying and Sunday's for recovery. No one cares for Thursday. So why not Tuesday?
Today—which was a Tuesday in fact—was Orihime's lucky day. Usually, when Orihime thought 'lucky' it always had something to do with Ichigo. This time, it had nothing—not even remotely close—to do with Kurosaki Ichigo.
xxx
Orihime yawned, covering her mouth with the grey sleeve to her school uniform. School was out and she still wore the redundant uniform. For some reason Orihime had no intentions of cooking that evening. Typically, the red head loved cooking, so why was tonight different?
Perhaps she just wanted a change of pace—anything other than sandwiches and soup. So Orihime did what any other sane teenager girl with a credit card would do while her brother was out of town. She ordered a pizza.
Not just any pizza, a large one with every single topping on it—or was it two very large pizzas?—that set her back sixty dollars.
She waited eagerly for her pizza to arrive, having changed from the scratchy uniform into a rather liberating outfit. Tight pink tank top and short white shorts. She sat on the counter, swinging her long legs back and forth, humming.
At the knock on the door, she pushed herself off the counter and raced to the door. (Though she ran into the archway and cursed loudly.) Throwing open the door—an action which almost nailed the pizza boy in the face with the object in question—Orihime's mouth fell open.
There stood probably the hottest pizza boy in the history of pizza boy's. (He may have been deathly pale and had some pretty emo makeup, but nonetheless.) Orihime swallowed, controlling herself.
"You're not the usual guy," she said, "where's Fred?"
The pizza boy—devoid of any emotion—replied, "He quit. I got his job today."
She crossed her arms, tilting her head, "Why would he quit? Fred loved his job at Cifer Pizzeria." Admittedly, Orihime enjoyed talking up a storm with her pizza boy's. However they all had pimples and braces—unlike this clear skinned, straight toothed boy—which hadn't intimidated her in the least bit. The emotionless—albeit gorgeous— pizza boy before her did, though.
"I don't have time for this, woman," he snapped, "that'll be sixty dollars."
Orihime tapped her elbow with her finger, "I have a name." She raised her eyebrow defiantly, adding, "and it's not woman, Mr. Emo Pizza boy."
His eye twitched, giving off the most emotion she'd seen so far, "I am not emo, woman."
"Is there a reason for the black tear streaks then?" she asked, mockingly, putting on her ballsy mask.
He simply blinked, "It's a life style." Orihime couldn't help it, she laughed. Boisterously.
"Okay, okay, my name is Inoue Orihime," she said, wiping away her laughter tears with her finger. She smiled at him, feeling a little less threatened by him.
"Ulquiorra," he told her, shifting the boxes of pizza's to his other arm, "and as much as I'd love to chat—" he was being sardonic, "I have a job to do. Sixty dollars."
Orihime pouted, "I'll pay you if you stay and have a slice with me."
"No." Ulquiorra's flat out rejection elicited a giggle from her.
"Please…?" Orihime batted her eyelashes. This is how they do it in the movies, right? "I'll tip you however you want."
Before she added the last bit, he looked as if he was ready to rip off her head. That, however, garnered his attention, in a way she'd least expected.
"Oh?" Ulquiorra said, setting the pizza's down on a table next to the door. He reached out—in the process getting himself closer to her—and gently took a strand of her hair. He bent, bringing it to his nose, "However I want?"
Orihime smacked his hand away, flushing. She couldn't believe he'd go there so quickly. She attempted to find a way to make him seem less attractive, and even the damned hideous red Cifer Pizzeria uniform didn't take away from his appearance. It must have been the green eyes.
"Within reason," Orihime put in weakly, adjusting her previous statement.
Ulquiorra's lips tilted down, "I see." Something flickered through his eyes that gave Orihime hope he'd say yes. "That'll be sixty dollars then."
She sighed, giving up. She waved him off and went to retrieve her wallet. To be perfectly honest, Orihime wasn't even sure why she wanted him to stay with her. Glancing back at him, she froze, going red once again.
Orihime was on her knees, bent over, giving him the perfect view of her ass. She quickly got to her feet, shuffling back to him, her eyes glued to the floor.
"Do you take credit?" she implored, knowing the answer was already yes.
"The machine's broken," he answered, and her heart plummeted to her stomach. How would she pay then? "I can help with that, though, woman."
Before Orihime could rebut his 'woman' statement, Ulquiorra had forced her up against the wall, touching their bodies together. There were two things she was positive about at that moment. One, that uniform hid some really amazing chest muscles. Two, her heart was beating impossibly fast. And three—apparently, he disabled her counting ability—there was something really hard in his pants.
His hands were braced on either side of her head, and he was steadily getting closer. The brief Kurosaki-kun thought was smothered when the scent of pizza entered her nose and she closed her eyes. Ulquiorra was just too tempting to pass up.
His lips brushed against hers, and she went to press him for more until she heard him chuckle. Or similar to a chuckle and he pulled away.
Ulquiorra's green eyes sparkled with the rumbling laughter he now seemed unable to contain. "I was only joking, woman. The machine is fine." He held out his hand for her card.
Orihime was speechless, to say the least. How he managed to fool her, it was unimaginable. Dumbly, she handed him her card, unable to form a coherent sentence.
Once he swiped the card—and handed it back of course—his expression sobered, "Thank you for your patronage today. We do hope you'll choice Cifer Pizzeria as your future pizza seller," he couldn't have been more sarcastic than when he said those sentences, "woman." Ulquiorra just had to supply. He turned to leave.
"Wait," she heard herself say, "where do you get your makeup from?"
The green-eyed pizza boy halted in mid-stride, "What?"
Orihime giggled, ignoring whatever was eating at her insides.
With his back still facing her, he said, "Why did you ask me to stay, woman?"
"I guess I was feeling lonely. Anyways, thanks for making my Tuesday," Orihime replied, smiling softly.
"Maybe next time I'll stay," Ulquiorra said, making her heart swell, "only if you're wearing something more revealing than that." He ducked out the door before Orihime had time to throw something at him.
She snatched her pizzas off the stand, "Idiot."
From there—on every Tuesday like clockwork—Orihime ordered a pizza with all the fixings from Cifer Pizzeria. And Ulquiorra made certain he was the one to deliver them, each and every time. With his tip requests growing far more unexpected than the last.
.
.
.
"Woman, I expect you to be naked and covered in whipped cream the next time I come."
"ULQUIORRA!"
.X
*smiles* well that was fun! I hope you enjoyed my little random titbit and that neither Ulquiorra or Orihime were too OOC. Anyways, what would you do if Ulquiorra delivered your pizza? Review?
~Emerald~