Chapter Text
It had first happened with a casual brush. Broly had just gotten out of the bathroom, having thankfully learned *very* quickly from both her and Lemo that clothes or at least a towel were *required* following, but not *during* a shower. A wet strand of hair had been stuck to his shoulder, half-wrapping around his neck. Without even thinking, she had reached up and tried to pull it out of the way, just as a little friendly gesture. Instantly, Broly had leaped back, his hair fluffing out in a display that would have been cute if she hadn’t recently seen what that could mean. She had raised her hands, voice trying not to crack as she soothed his fear.
It was like that for a while. Living in a relatively tight space with a seven foot tall walking bomb. A sweet bomb. A loving bomb. A scared bomb.
It took a little while for him to really feel comfortable with contact. His father, that motherfucker, had rarely shown him any affectionate touch, opting instead to use violence to *interact* with his son. (They said he had died from a stray blast during the fight with those Saiyans. Good riddance, if you asked her.) Eventually, though, she found she could gently touch his arm if she needed his attention. Then she could touch his hand. Maybe, one day, she had thought, she could hold it.
And then one day she did.
Lemo had put on some old flick, Old Space Yeller or something, and despite his machismo, he, along with Broly, were sobbing by the end of the movie. Broly had grasped the concept of fictional media a few months prior, thank god, but he was still clearly broken up by the tragedy. So she took his giant hand in both of hers and squeezed gently. “It’s okay, big guy,” she had said softly. “It isn’t real. Everyone in that movie is okay.”
He had looked down at her in surprise, then to their hands, then back to her. He didn’t pull back, instead just…watching the contact. Studying it. Absorbing it. And slowly, his fingers had closed around hers so gently you’d think she was made of glass.
He didn’t let go for a long time.
After that, they found themselves holding hands more often. At mealtimes, after a long day gathering food, even as that mysterious white haired man, Whis, had whisked the three of them away to another world. He held on to her hand that day, so very careful not to grip too hard. His skin had smoothed out since they met, now soft and tender from the soaps Goku had brought.
She found herself thinking of those descriptors a lot. It was simple at first, the tiniest murmurs in her heartbeat when he first initiated contact with a gentle brush of the arm. Pretty soon, though, she couldn’t even look at him, standing red-faced and panting in front of a spotless angel, without some very powerful feelings building in her chest. She wanted to touch him more. A lot more. And she wondered what his touch would feel like. Along her arms, her thighs, her…well….
Maybe it was too soon for that.
Still, she couldn’t help but wonder how he felt. It was in the sidelong glances, those stares that were decidedly different from his regular gaze. Not spacing out, not coming up with what to say, *watching* her. Admiring her, she hoped.
It took two months to finally get her chance. The other Saiyans, Goku and that veggie guy, were taking all of Whis’s time today, and Broly was sidelined due to his sensitivity fighting those two. She came up next to him and sat down, gently placing a hand on his leg, which was still covered by a now-clean Ba’s ear. “Hey, Broly, um…” she started. He looked down at her, registering that she had gone straight for the first name instead of her usual “big guy.” “Listen, these guys are gonna be busy all day. What do you say we find a quiet corner and just…hang out, you know? Maybe not talk or anything, but just…vibe.”
He glanced over at the sky, where the others were locked in a dance of dodges and whiffed strikes. “Well…”
She smiled. “They’ll be here when you get back.” That was enough for him, as he stood up and began following after her, away from the grunts and cracks of battle.
They wandered for about fifteen minutes, gladly getting lost in the blue terrain. Once she spotted a secluded copse of trees, she motioned him over. Together, they sat down on the grass, leaning against opposite trees. She took out a little treat, one of those ration bars from the Force. Call her crazy, but she kinda liked the things. As a snack, though.
Broly tilted his head. He looked just like a puppy when he did that. “Did you want to talk about something?” he asked, his voice quiet but straightforward.
“Well, to be honest…” Come on, nerves! “Broly, I like you a lot, and I was wondering—“
He perked up immediately. “I like you too, Cheelai!” he added, interrupting her. As he realized his mistake, he clapped his hand over his mouth and murmured, “Sorry.”
She chuckled and put a hand on his. “It’s okay, I’m not upset. I wanted to know if, well…you wanted to…get a bit closer? Maybe…we could, uh, touch more. I-I mean, be more comfortable touching more of each other? God, this sounds awkward.”
He tilts his head. “How do you mean?”
Fuck, this was going to be difficult. She stopped and took a breath, fighting down the purple blush in her cheeks. “Well, Broly, I want to be your girlfriend. I want to run my hands over your chest and your arms and your cheeks to show you that I love you.” Ough, those last few words weren’t supposed to come out. She tensed, waiting for a response.
Broly thought about this for a long time. Far longer than she was comfortable with. “I’ve learned a little about that,” he said finally. “I think that sounds nice. I’ve wondered what you feel like, too.” His words were cautious and clearly chosen.
She relaxed. “Good. That’s good. May I…” She paused, inching towards him. “Can I lie down on your chest? Just you and me, relaxing out here in the woods?”
He nodded. He was still wearing a tight top that hugged every curve of his muscles, much to her delight. She slowly put one hand on his thigh, bracing herself as she laid down against the wall of big, strong, beautiful muscle she got to call her boyfriend. She had to stifle a giggle at the thought. What was she, twelve? Still, being here with him…it made her feel small. In a good way. In a safe way.
Her head finally came to rest between his pecs, each about the size of her head. Chest pillows be damned, she had a chest bed all to herself. He tensed slightly as she climbed on, but her soft touch was enough to put him at ease. She looked up at him and smiled, leaning up. “Do you know what a kiss is?” she asked.
He nodded. “I’ve seen it. It’s a thing people who love each other do.”
Her smile grew. “Yep. If you want to, I’d like to kiss you. But only if you’re okay with it, Broly. I don’t want to do anything you don’t want.”
She could tell he appreciated that. He nodded. “I want to, but I don’t know how.”
“Oh, well, that’s easy. You just lean in, and…” She planted a kiss on his lips. They were softer and warmer than she ever could have dreamed. He certainly didn’t know how to kiss, but she could teach him. Her hand went around to cup behind his head, and she sighed through her nose, drinking in the moment. His breath came slowly and warmly over her face, and she thought she could feel it there forever.