So when I started writing this back in September 2015, it was the first multi-chapter story I'd done in over a year. As of right now (June 2016) I have this plus two more on the go. This fic really helped rekindle my ability to write longer stories. And the entire reason it exists is because one day I went "you know Tien and Yamcha have a great relationship wait what if they were dating" and uh. Well. Here we are.

Also as a fair warning: this story will have adult content. There isn't much of it, and NSFW chapters are clearly marked at the start, but if that's not your thing you may want to sit this story out.

I hope you enjoy it! Thank you for reading! I'm always interested in feedback if you have any!

Yamcha sat in the chair across from Bulma's desk, looking anywhere but at her. She leaned on her desk, chin propped in her hand, looking at him with steel wariness in her eyes. He clasped and unclasped his hands in his lap, sucked in a deep breath, and finally managed to say something.

"So how are you?"

Bulma's face fell flat. "Really, Yamcha?" she said. "Really? You come all this way to my office to talk to me and that's what you lead with?"

"Cut me some slack," he sighed, slouching in his seat. "I'm a martial artist, not a conversationalist."

"And not even a very good martial artist at that," she retorted, leaning back and crossing her arms. "Why are you here?"

"First of all," Yamcha said, "I'm not that bad of a martial artist." To Bulma's credit, she did try to not smirk knowingly at him. "I'm just sort of outclassed by all these aliens running around."

"Hey, I'm married to one of those aliens, so watch your tone."

"I didn't-" He sighed. "I didn't mean anything by it, Bulma." He was starting to think this was a bad idea. "Alright, look, I'm here because I want to-and this is going to sound really stupid-I want to be friends again."

There was a brief, awkward silence. "You're right," Bulma finally said, "that does sound really stupid when you put it like that. You sound straight out of a bad rom com."

Yamcha stood up. "I knew this was a bad idea. You always get all huffy about everything."

Bulma was on her feet in seconds. "I do not get huffy! I get understandably upset. Besides, I was just agreeing with you." She pointed to his chair. "Sit down, you big dope, I'm just messing with you." To make her point, she sat behind her desk again, crossing her legs and looking up at Yamcha like she was going to just wait patiently for him to comply.

He sat.

"So do you want to tell me why you want to try being friends again all of a sudden?" Bulma asked. "I mean, we went several years not talking to each other and things seemed okay then."

Yamcha frowned and scratched his chin. "Sure, things have been 'okay' since you and Vegeta...well, you know." He still wasn't comfortable talking about his onetime girlfriend's relationship with his onetime enemy.

"Had a kid and got married?" Bulma supplied. "In that order?"

"That, yeah." Yamcha ran a hand through his hair. He'd been growing it out again, but it still wasn't quite as long as he liked it. "They've been 'okay,' but I don't see people a lot, you know? I mean, you have people over a lot, and Master Roshi has get-togethers all the time, but half the time I'm working and the other half all we do is fight."

Bulma nodded and rolled her eyes. "It's the Saiyans, I'm telling you. Damn testosterone-fuelled fighting machines, the lot of them. Except maybe Gohan."

"I just..." Yamcha sighed. "I miss you, Bulma. I know it can't be like it used to, you're married, but for the longest time you were one of my closest friends. We can't date anymore, and I know that, and I'm fine with that." He wasn't. But there was no way in Hell he was telling her that. "But we can still be friends, right?"

She propped her chin on her hand again and looked him over. "Yamcha...we were never going to work out. I think we both knew that."

He slumped. "Yeah."

"And who was the one who cheated on who, again? Oh right, you cheated on me."

Yamcha cringed. He was surprised that hadn't already come up in the conversation. "To be fair, I didn't actually cheat on you."

"No, but you sure made it seem like you had." Yamcha wanted to add that she was the one who blew a fan talking to him and him getting flustered about it out of proportion, but decided it wasn't a good time. Bulma stood up and came around the desk, leaning one hip against it and folding her arms. He looked up at her. Even all these years later, she was still gorgeous. "And now, after all this time, you want to repair what we had."

"To an extent."

"To an extent," she acknowledged. She studied his face, and he met her eyes, refusing to shrink away from her piercing blue gaze. "Why now? What made you decide to finally try and fix things?"

He stood up too. If nothing else, he could at least have the advantage of height, something Bulma was no doubt used to having since she was taller than everyone in her family. "To be honest, it wasn't my idea."

She snorted. "Great. Thanks."

"No, that's not-that's not what I mean!" Yamcha's fists clenched. "Look, I was talking to Tien and reminiscing about old times." About you was what he really meant, but he decided not to bring that up. "And he said he noticed we didn't get along when we met up. So I told him about our history, and he and Chiaotzu convinced me to come here and try and talk it out." He forced himself to slowly relax his hands. "So yeah, it wasn't really my idea, but if they hadn't pushed me, I don't think I would've had the balls to do it in the first place."

A knowing smirk settled on Bulma's face and she nodded. "Yeah, walking into the company where your ex is the CEO and chief engineer and trying to patch up a decade-old relationship failure is pretty ballsy, I'll give you that."

"To be honest, it's mostly because you're scary when you're mad that I was so hesitant," Yamcha admitted. "Even when we were teenagers you were definitely not someone to piss off."

"You're damn right I'm not." She nodded once, proud. "So you want to make it up to me, huh?" She tapped her chin. "Well...for old time's sake, I guess it wouldn't hurt to try starting over."

A huge grin spread across Yamcha's face. "Really?"

"Sure, why not?" Bulma shrugged, smiling. "You're a pretty good guy, Yamcha, all things considered." She leaned in conspiratorially. "Just make sure you don't get on Vegeta's radar too much. I think he thinks I still have latent feelings for you and I'm going to leave him one day. He doesn't say anything, but I know how he is."

Yamcha laughed awkwardly. "Right, yeah. Wouldn't want anyone thinking we still have feelings for each other or anything, right?"

She reached up and patted him on the shoulder. "Look, Yamcha, this is great, and I'm glad we're going to try being friends again, really I am. But I need to get back to work. Capsule Corp doesn't run itself, you know."

"Right. Yeah. Okay." Yamcha held out his hand. "I'll call you?"

She clasped his hand and shook it firmly. Her hand was so small in his, and he wasn't even a particularly large person. It made him want to reach out and hold her like he used to, and he fought to keep his face neutral as the old emotions started surfacing again. "Sure. That'd be nice." Bulma released his hand and went behind her desk again, a subtle cue that the conversation was over.

Yamcha turned and headed for the door. "Alright. I'll see you around, then-"

"Oh, hey! Yamcha, hold on a second!"

He turned to see her digging through a desk drawer. She straightened and tossed a piece of paper at him. It fluttered uselessly to the floor in front of her desk. "Dammit." She came around, picked it up, and handed it to Yamcha. "My birthday's in a few weeks, so I'm throwing a party. You can come if you want." She said it casually, but Yamcha had known her long enough to know when she was being casual on purpose. He looked at the paper. It was white with a blue border (the same shade as Bulma's hair, he noticed), with the words "BIRTHDAY" and "BINGO" written in huge letters several times. Crammed in in smaller print were things like date and time. Bulma was a genius engineer, but graphic design was definitely not her strong suit. The whole thing looked like it had been made by Trunks. Actually, Yamcha thought, Trunks probably could have designed a better invitation. "You don't have to get me anything," Bulma added as he looked the invitation over. "But there's going to be a bingo tournament with cool prizes! And lots of food, mostly because I've invited the Sons."

Yamcha tucked the colourful invitation into his pocket. "Thanks, Bulma." He was touched by the gesture, even if it was a hasty, last-minute addition to her probably enormous guest list. "I'll definitely be there if I can get the day off work."

She eyed him. "You work a lot, huh?"

"Two jobs," he confirmed. "Me and Puar are freelance bodyguards, and I work on Tien's farm sometimes. Keeps the rent paid."

"Hm." Bulma stepped back. "Well, I need to get back to work. I'll see you in a couple weeks!"

Yamcha gave her a small wave before slipping out the door.

"Well? How did it go?"

Yamcha flopped face first onto his thrift store couch. "Fine. We've decided to have a go at being friends again."

Puar beamed at him. "That's great!" She floated over and poked at his face. "So why are you still so miserable looking?"

"Thanks, Puar, you're a real pal," he muttered, pushing himself up and rolling onto his back. "I'm just tired, that's all. Capsule Corp is on the other side of West City, after all."

She didn't look convinced. "I see," she said. "Well, I'm going to make us some tea. When you feel like talking about what's really going on in that head of yours, just let me know." Before Yamcha could even figure out what to say, Puar had flown off into the tiny kitchen.

Yamcha threw his arm over his face and sighed. When I know what's really going on in my head, Puar, he thought, you'll be the first to know.