A/N: Yeeeey! Moomlu drew me some awesome stuff! :D Also, I'm curious to know: when you guys read this, do you picture Goku realistically or in his anime stylized version? I know when I write I imagine him drawn more modern than he is in the anime, and it usually bleeds over into a realistic version of him. I think that helps me write a bit better.

The darkness begins. Kind of. Waaa, goodbye, sunshine.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z or anything affiliated with it.

-MalRev

DEEP - SIX

9 - How To Cure A Hangover

Consciousness dawned upon me in slow, torturous pulses.

The taste of alcohol was still thick on my tongue when I groaned into awareness. My stomach lurched preemptively and for a terrifying second I thought I was going to lose my lunch on the floor, or even worse, the bed. But I whimpered and curled into a ball, squeezing my eyes shut and allowing the nausea to burn through my insides like the poison I had drank the night before. The birds were singing to one another outside—I had managed to survive the night.

I buried my face in the blankets, still trying to avoid my inevitable trip to the bathroom, and gradually became aware of my surroundings. The bed was not my own. The cot in my room was creaky and a bit uncomfortable, while the mattress I was lying on was quite comfortable and worn-in. The sheets I had swaddled myself in were thick and plush rather than thin and they kept out all the cold.

Unwillingly, I risked a peek beneath the covers to find I was only wearing a strange orange shirt made of some lightweight that nearly kept me anchored to the bed. It hung around my knees from what I could tell and I slowly fit the pieces of the puzzle together that my delirious mind had picked up on. I was hungover in Goku's bed, wearing his shirt, and he was nowhere to be seen. Nothing in that equation calculated to a good conclusion.

Soon I managed to prop myself up on an elbow to look around his bedroom. It was pretty big, with blue walls and white trimming along the beige carpet. There weren't many decorations and it felt awfully empty: almost foreboding, like I was somewhere I wasn't supposed to be. I rubbed my eyes and noted how clean he kept the space, another mannerism most guys didn't have. There was a hell of a lot of things I didn't know about Goku.

The door opened a hair and I quickly lay back down to pull the sheets around myself. My heart was hammering—I really didn't want to see Goku after what had happened the night before. Were things going to be weird between us? Were things already weird between us?

"Yeah, I think she's still asleep," Goku said, talking quietly with someone on the phone. He paused and laughed in response to something they said. "Of course I didn't. Chi-Chi showed up and… yeah, I know, but there was nothing I could do… nothing happened, anyway… I'll make sure she stays away; tell Owen to stop screaming and relax… alright, call me later if anything changes. Bye."

His phone clicked shut and I heard the tinker of ice against glass. My spine prickled when he approached and set something on the nightstand beside the bed. He stood there for a few seconds without moving, like he was thinking, and decided to crawl into bed beside me. My eyes popped open when I felt the gentle pressure of his hand on my hip and I ungracefully turned over to confront him.

Goku looked prepared for my angry reaction—he was nonchalantly watching me, supporting his cheek in his palm and barely flinched when I turned over. I opened my mouth to demand to know what had happened to my clothing but became too busy staring at the taut skin beneath his neck that outlined his collar bone. My eyes slowly crept down across his perfect, unmarred chest until I couldn't see anything past the first or second curve of his abs. I pursed my lips.

And he smiled, very satisfied with himself. "Something wrong?"

It wasn't every day I woke up in bed with a furious hangover beside a guy who had almost inhumanly perfect proportions. It frightened me—maybe because my thoughts were still so fuzzy or maybe because I couldn't comprehend anything about Goku—and I promptly wriggled away from him to collapse on the floor, hiccupping when my stomach lurched.

Goku laughed and leaned over the bed to hoist me onto the mattress again. I lolled about like a ragdoll, crippled by my nausea, and could only groan nervously when he pulled my back flush against his abdomen. Though I was freed from ogling his body I could still feel it pressing against mine and hardly noticed the plate of bread and glass of ginger ale on the nightstand.

I watched irately as one of his arms stretched past me to get a piece of the bread that had been cut into bite-size pieces. His elbow hooked on my hip bone to keep me in place and the bread touched my lips firmly. I considered biting Goku's fingers for a brief second.

"I can feed myself," I said, voice cracking.

"Go ahead and reach for it, then."

Incensed, I strained against his arm for the plate of bread, and couldn't help but notice it was heavier than an iron slab. He idly popped the piece of bread in his mouth I had turned down and the force on my hip grew when his arm tilted back, making it completely impossible to move. I angrily tried jabbing him in the ribs but my elbow glanced off his bicep instead.

I huffed and reached again, fingers waving madly in the air, and felt Goku lean his weight on my back to slowly slide his hand up my arm and curl his fingers over the top of mine. His face was in my neck again and I could feel his hot breath spill across my skin; it smelled like peppermint. He gently drew my arm back to my side and pressed it firmly into the mattress.

"I think you need my help," he said in a disquieting tone.

If it were possible, I would've made like a black hole and swallowed myself up in that moment. I stared in terror at Goku's large hand over mine, eclipsing my fingers and fully capable of shattering them. He was looming over me like a storm cloud, waiting to rain down whatever kind of punishment he wanted. There was an aggressive edge in his voice. He was heavy and hot.

It was one of the few times in my life I was utterly speechless. I'd never been more afraid.

Goku's hand tightened over mine until I whimpered in pain. I'd become a puddle at his feet he could leave to dry or stomp in like a cruel little kid.

He detached his hand from mine with great effort and reached for the bread, pressing another piece to my lips a few seconds later. I ate it too quickly and Goku grasped my jaw with a sharp breath to hold it firmly in place. His lips moved against my skin when he spoke.

"Slow, Ellie," he whispered. He pushed his index finger to my lips like he wanted it in my mouth. "If you're not patient, you can lose everything."

What is that supposed to mean?

The piercing ring of my cell phone mercifully shattered the tension between us. The change in Goku's demeanor was instantaneous and frankly a bit worrying. He released me and rolled over to the nightstand on his side of the bed to grab my phone for me.

"It's your brother," he said. "Want to talk to him?"

Trembling, I shook my head. The last thing I needed was one of Owen's hysterical fits.

Goku didn't return to my side and sat up to stretch, yawning and popping several joints in the process. I warily began to eat the bread on my own and had a few sips of ginger ale as well to settle my stomach. My thoughts were racing a mile a minute: did all of that really happen? Was Goku going to…

"You puked last night," he said offhandedly, getting out of bed. "One of the girls helped you get changed but I'm sure you don't remember. Anyway, I left you in here so you could sleep it off. I'll walk you back to the dorms whenever you're ready, or you can stay here again tonight."

I nibbled on my bread, mildly terrified. Was he not going to address what just happened or even try to put me at ease? He was still so casual. What the hell was he trying to pull?

"I'll go home in a little while," I stammered. "But I need pants."

"I like you better without pants."

There it was—the latent aggression; the idle sexual comments that were frankly unnerving given the circumstances. I felt my face overheating and hid within the covers to eat a couple of more bread chunks until Goku left the room without saying a word. He was so friendly and fun the first few times we were together but that was undermined by whatever his strange behavioral quirk was.

Maybe I was overthinking it. Guys were guys, after all, and testosterone was what made them very different from us females. He was just being a guy. I wasn't used to it yet.

I got ready to text Mila and Anna about what happened but hesitated. It probably wasn't a good idea to make them worry and they didn't know Goku yet. Besides, it was only one time and that was how guys were sometimes. I simply told them I went to a party and got out of bed to get ready to leave.

My knees shook and I wavered on my feet, about ready to collapse and sleep for a few more hours. I gripped one of the pegs at the end of the bed to steady myself and Goku reentered the room with a plastic bag in hand. He was wearing orange sweatpants that hung loosely from his hips and oh god he even had an Adonis belt. He casually scratched at the long line of muscles down his abdomen.

"I cleaned your clothes for you," he said.

"Will you put a goddamn shirt on?!" I seethed, glaring intently at the floor. "If I have to see you half-naked again I'm going to lose my lunch."

"Eh, I don't really like wearing clothes. You look pale."

"I'm fine. Gimme my stuff so I can go back to the dorms and take a shower."

Goku cocked his head, swinging the bag from his index finger. "What're you doing when you go back?"

I glanced up at him and wished I hadn't. How the hell did he have so many muscles?! "I don't know, probably drinking water all day and working on some stuff for chemistry."

"Why won't you look at me? Are you mad? I didn't touch you after you passed out."

"I'm only mad that you won't put on a shirt."

"I don't think you're mad about that," he said with a snicker. "Your face is pink so I bet you're more embarrassed by it than anything else."

It was frustrating having nowhere to run. I kept my eyes averted from his and studied the carpet near my feet while he walked toward me, swinging the bag back and forth.

I swallowed. Be brave, Ellie. "No, I'm just not used to being around shirtless men."

"Oh, I'm a man now?"

"Unless I was feeling a pencil against my back last night—"

And Goku was standing in front of me, dangling my clothes from his fingertip. He tilted my head up with his free hand and I jerked away shyly. The bag dropped to the floor. He stepped closer and I stepped back until I felt the cool blue wall on my back. Shit, Ellie. What are you doing?

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "A pencil, eh? That's not very nice." Then he pressed his pelvis against my stomach and his hands wandered to my hips.

My throat was so tight I thought I would never speak again. I squirmed frantically against him, terrified that we might do something I would regret, and his fingers dug into my skin. He panted into my ear and suddenly pulled me from the wall for the sole purpose of crushing me into it again. It kind of hurt.

"What did I say about moving?" he asked.

"I don't—"

"Ellie?! Ellie, are you still here?!"

Bulma's voice was the sweetest thing I'd ever heard. I had hardly reached up to push Goku away when I saw her lean, snowy fingers grasp his tan skin and pull him away herself. She was panting, only half dressed in a yellow skirt with a white tank top, and she seemed very relieved. Her back was turned to me so I couldn't see the expression on her face when she shooed Goku away, who looked irritated.

"Run along," Bulma said. "Why don't you go train with the others for a while or check on your brother? Ellie went to her first party so she probably needs some girl time. It's time for you to leave, Goku."

Then he blinked like he was coming out of a daze and ran a hand through his hair. I watched him grab a shirt, heard his footsteps down the stairs, and Bulma and I were alone in the apartment. She heaved a sigh like she had been worried that he wouldn't listen to her.

"Something wrong?" I asked.

"…No. You know how guys can be." She scooped up the bag and offered it to me, smiling tightly. "Get dressed and I'll bring you back to the dorms."