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"Juice!"
Juice turned away from the TV to see Ten marching into the living room, arms crossed and brows furrowed. "Uhhhhh yeah?"
"You need to stop kicking your shoes off by the front door." She demanded with a scowl. "We have a shoe rack for a reason!"
"Dude, I just got home." Juice tried to refocus on the game, but Ten stepped right in front of him, blocking the TV.
"Doesn't matter. Just put your shoes up right away--the rack is right by the door for a reason."
He huffed in annoyance before attempting to lean to the side to get Ten out of his vision. Unfortunately for him, she quickly caught on to what she was doing. Not one to be ignored, she tilted her body in the same direction to keep blocking his vision.
He swapped sides, so did she. He frowned and went back to the other side. She anticipated this, and mirrored him. Left, right, left, right--back and forth in silence until he gave up.
He grumbled under his breath and rose from the couch. He just wanted to watch the game, man. He needed to get Ten to leave somehow.
"I gotta go in like, 20 minutes." He crossed his arms to mock her indignant and tense stance. "What's the point of putting 'em away when I'm just about to go out again?"
"Well," Ten started with a smug lilt, "why make you dinner when you're just going to eat again tomorrow?"
Ouch. Having his own logic used against him. He hated when Ten did that... it wasn't his fault he was very food motivated!
"Hey! I like to eat!" He retorted while raising his hands defensively. "What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing's wrong with that. But I would like it if you put. Your. Shoes. Away."
Now she was being annoying--nagging for the sake of nagging. They both knew this wouldn't go anywhere, and they'd be having the same argument tomorrow. Or hell, maybe even later that day.
He grabbed the remote from next to his spot on the couch and cranked the volume up. He peered over Ten's head, trying to watch the game. He saw her glower from his peripheral vision and felt glee at riling her up. He decided to bounce up onto his tiptoes to gain more height on her, all while wearing a self-satisfied expression.
"Hey!" Ten warned, moving closer to him, her posture stiffening. "Don't you dare ignore me."
Juice beamed even wider. "Huh? Can't hear anything over the game, sorry."
"Juice! Put your shoes away!"
His hand, still on the remote, raised the volume by another ten notches. Watching Ten sputter and huff made it all worth it. He only had to hold out for 15 minute before he had to leave, and there was no way he was caving before then. He had won this session of bickering, a fact he was excessively pleased with.
Until he felt a stiff hand on his shoulder, grip harsh as iron and cold as ice.
He kept his gaze locked on the TV, but his face fell and his heart dropped to his ass.
Ten's face was flat and unreadable; Juice felt pure, unadulterated terror at what might come next. His life--thousands of years of bullshit--flashed before his eyes as her heavy hand rested on his shoulder. Her death grip... and his possible death.
He accepted his fate of likely being chucked out the nearest window like a cartoon character. What a way to go. At least Nine might find it funny.
Ten's hand curled around his jacket, grabbing a fistful, and using it to tug him down. Down... down.. down... until Ten could press her lips against his.
Chaste and sweet. Fleeting and transient. Gone a mere second after it happened.
He couldn't even process--what what what was that--his fans were whirring faster to compensate for the strain of his bashfulness. His android felt warm all over, and he was distantly aware of his eyes blown wide and mouth drawn into a tight line.
Ten stepped away--graceful as ever--with a smug grin. Her eyes twinkled as she exited the living room, briefly glancing over her shoulder to speak to him.
"J. Put your shoes away."
"Hhhhhhuuuuhhhhhheehhhh..." Dammit flustered brain--use words! "Hhhhhyyyyyeaahhhh."
"Good boy." Ten chirped as she rounded the corner and out of sight, leaving Juice alone with his pounding mechanical kokoro.
What the fuck?!?
★・・・・・・★
Juice was strolling through a shopping plaza near their house, bags of groceries in his hands. The sun was beating down at an angle in the hazy afternoon, causing pedestrians to scuttle along to avoid the sun's rays.
Juice bobbed his head along to the music in his headphones, a faint smile on his lips. He was walking back to his truck after grabbing a few items for tonight and tomorrow's dinners, since it was his turn to cook.
He was nearing his truck on the end of the lot furthest from the store, when something jutted out to him in the crown. A familiar, visual cue.
He whipped his head around, squinting through his sunglasses; He stopped in the middle of the walkway like a moron, forcing other pedestrians to walk around him.
He saw a woman with a familiar bob, sense of style, and posture. She carried herself with a charming confidence as she walked through the parking lot, going the opposite direction as him.
Oh he knew that silhouette like the back of his hand.
A delighted grin came to his face and he quickly abandoned his mission in favor of bugging Ten before she left.
He jogged across the parking lot urgently, weaving between cars and carts and people to trail behind her. She had her purse slung over her shoulder and a single plastic bag in her hand, moving with purpose towards her car on the end opposite of his. She didn't notice him; he only crept closer... and closer... and closer...
"HEY-"
"WHA-"
"-LADY!" He cheered, hastily stepping to her side to catch her surprised expression.
"Juice!" She blurted out: "Don't sneak up on me like that!"
"Hey, don't deal what you can't take."
He walked by her side, occasionally pausing for drivers to cross through the aisles of the lot. Ten's free hand found his, interlocked her fingers with him to pull guide him through the lot and towards her car. Her hand was warm and smaller and so uniquely hers. He could feel her exoskeleton beneath her faux skin, and the connection only thrilled him.
"What're you doin' here? Thought you were out."
"I am out." She responded, sighing to herself as she let a car pass. "My friends at the watch party forgot a couple things, so I volunteered to fetch them."
"Watch party?" Juice echoed, his interest piqued.
"Yes, we're watching game #9213."
"Without me?" Juice pouted and Ten huffed in amusement.
"Yes, without you, because this game actually has substance.
"Substance!" He cried while squeezing her hand in protest. "Sure my games are horrific, but you can't tell me they ain't got substance!"
"You said it yourself, they're horrific."
The two of them approached Ten's car, dodging any drivers pulling in and out of parking spots.
"That's the substance! It's... it's like a shit sandwich. Sure, it's shit, but it's still a sandwich!"
She grimaced, "that's an awful analogy. Never say that again."
By now they were standing next to her car. Ten needed to fish her keys out of her purse, get in, and be off--all of this requiring she let go of his hand.
Juice felt her fingers slip out of his, and momentarily he mourned the loss of contact.
Still, her hand held his, more of a cradle than a traditional hold. He shot her a puzzled look as she raised his hand up, up, and up, closer to her face...
...and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand.
He gasped audibly in surprise, tingles traveling across his skin from the moment of contact to the second of departure.
Ten slipped her hand out from beneath his, and his hand dropped limply; he was too dazed to care, electric tingles still sparking across his entire hand.
Ten rummaged through her purse for her keys before unlocking her car and getting in the driver's side. Juice dumbly backed out of her way so she could exit the spot, and stared at the back of her car as she drove off.
His processors were jammed with the overload of sensations. His palm warm, the back of his hand buzzing, his fans picking up speed and volume... was he sweating because he was bumbling around in the blazing sun, or was it because of her?
He stood alone in her deserted spot in silence for another few moments, before doubling over and opening his mouth in a breathless screech. He hissed, his vocal synthesizer frying to cope with his absurd noises. Onlookers might've thought he had gone mad, and he wouldn't disagree.
Where did she learn to be so... so... suave?
★・・・・・・★
The two of them are sitting on the couch together; the TV's playing some baking championship and Juice and Ten are commenting on every single cake and contester. Juice was spread out like a cat in the sun, manspreading like his life depended on it--and was content about it too. Ten was leaning against her boyfriend as she was wont to, pressed against his side with her head on his shoulder.
"Orange and chocolate for a cake was a WILD choice. I mean--you've got the citrusy tang of the orange paired with the rich chocolate cake. And the chocolate ganache!" Juice gesticulated animatedly, "I don't think she can pull it off in cake form."
"I think she should have gone with a regular citrus cake." Ten piped up, shifting in her spot against Juice's side. "She's overcomplicating it. She doesn't have the ability to do it well."
Juice hummed in agreement, nodding even though she wasn't looking at him. "Maybe her decorations will save her."
"I'm sorry, did you even see her last cake?"
"The turtle looking one? Yeah I did. Pretty sick."
"It was supposed to be a dragon."
"No!" Juice gasped dramatically. "You're shittin' me!"
"I wish I was."
"THAT was a dragon!?"
"YES!"
Juice snickered to himself, "oh she's so screwed. Fifty shades of screwed, actually."
Ten laughed softly, causing her shoulders to jerk with her huffs. Juice could feel every tremor, every inhale, every internal process with her so close. "She's so out in the next round. There's no coming back from this."
"Unless one of the judges likes chocolate and orange."
"Unlikely. All three of them are American."
"HAH! Either she really likes chocolate and orange or she's sabotaging herself."
"Maybe she just wanted to bake something she liked. What does she usually do, before she joined this?"
"I think it said in the beginning... botanist or something along those lines."
The two of them watched as the lady on screen over-whipped her butter and had to scramble for more. Throughout the entire competition, her recipes, techniques, and decorations have been subpar. She was happy to be there, but she also struggled and stumbled and fudged her way through.
Hah, fudge. Juice snickered to himself at the unintentional pun.
"She's far from a professional baker, but I respect it. Try everything once."
"Or twice. I think I've seen her on the show before."
"Seriously!? Oh, whatever."
The camera switched to interview another contestant, who was working on a delicious looking lemon cake. Springy, slightly tart, and refreshing. This guy was doing citrus correctly. And goodness, his decorations were looking really good--simple flowers made with unique textures and colored buttercream.
"Uuuugghhhhh I gotta become a judge for this one day." Juice near moaned at the idea of getting to eat to eat delicious cakes for some addictive baking show.
"Of course," Ten sighed to herself. "You know you can get on the waitlist for it."
Juice perked up, a giddy grin rising on his face. "Can I really!?"
"Look at you. I'm pretty sure "let them eat cake" doesn't apply to space probes."
"Excuse you, I don't need anyone to "let" me eat cake, I can do that on my own."
Ten scoffed, "oh trust me, we know. I mean the last time-"
Ten was cut off by the sound of her phone vibrating in her pocket. She trailed off quietly as she handled her phone to check the caller.
"Oh! It's Nancy!" Ten chirped in delight as she sat up, and unfortunately, left Juice's side. "You don't mind if I take this, do you?"
Juice waved his hand and beckoned her off. "No no go talk to her. I'll be here judging confectionary goodness from the comfort of the couch."
Ten smiled gratefully. "Thanks, babe." Ten tipped back towards Juice, pressing her face closer to his--pressing her lips to his cheek in a shy peck.
Then she was up, walking away, and on the phone.
"Nancy? Hi! It's good to..." Their conversation became unintelligible as Ten left the living room, leaving Juice alone and flustered.
He pressed a hand to his cheek, where her lips had once been. It left a burning mark on his face and boiling magma flowing through his veins. He averted his eyes from the side that she had occupied, instead staring at the opposite wall. The warmth against his side lingered, even without a body to occupy the space.
The voices from the judges overpowered the absence of their conversation, but Juice could only make out every other word.
Why was she like this? Why was she so charming?
★・・・・・・★
It was 11:37. Juice had been tossing and turning for a couple hours now, unable to fall asleep. He had tried everything and anything--counting sheep, breathing exercises, warm chocolate milk--but nothing worked.
He huffed in annoyance, slapping his arms against his comforter. He was being a pissy, dramatic brat, but he had every right to be. His fucked up sleep schedule was only partially his fault, and yet he reaped all the consequences. It was so not fair!
He sighed again, staring at his dark ceiling like it personally insulated him. He was utterly exhausted, but still at peak consciousness; too tired to get up and distract himself but too awake to drift off.
He whined with his mouth closed, drawing out the syllables for his own amusement. He was allowed to be pathetic when insanely fatigued okay fuck off.
Out of the blue--or rather the dark of his room--his door slowly creaked open.
He squeezed his eyes shut and released all the tension in his face, expertly pretending to be asleep. Wait a damn minute. He was a full grown man; why was he acting like a child?
Maybe Nine had a nightmare? Or Ten wanted to sleep in his bed tonight? He listened carefully to the hushed footfalls and whispers of a presence.
The pattern of their stride indicated that it was his lovely girlfriend.
He was going to ask her what she wanted, but he heard her creep closer, and a devious idea came to mind.
Ohohoho he was going to scare her so bad. Revenge was best served cold. Or hot. Maybe with a balsamic glaze too...
He was giddy in his bed, and it took every ounce of willpower to keep his face neutral. His cheeks wanted to quirk up into a grin but he needed to play it cool. He was naturally very expressive, so the determination required to keep the act up was astronomical.
Slowly she tiptoed closer; his anticipation rose with every step.
Step... step... from the door... step... step... to the middle of the room... step... step... to right at his bedside.
He was about to spring up in her face with a shout--nearly shaking with excitement--when he felt a gentle hand on his forehead.
Ten combed through his tangled hair, just enough to sweep his bangs away from his forehead. His bed creaked and his mattress dipped under her weight as she sat down next to his chest.
This is it. The perfect moment to strike--the iron was hot and ready for grilling!
Her weight shifted, she was leaning down... to kiss his forehead. Tender and intimate, her lips lingered far longer than they had before. There was nothing but the silence and the warmth of her affectionate expression; the vacuum of space and his sun.
She remained for a few moments longer, before quietly rising from his bed and shuffling back out of the room. The door clicked shut behind her, and the night droned on.
He waited in completely stillness until he heard that click, and then his eyes flew open. His fans spun rapidly in an attempt to prevent him from overheated, but it still felt like he was burning from the inside.
Sweet and loving, secretive and deeply personal. His breath hitched at the thought of Ten checking on him while he slept... and kissing him. Ohhhhohhhohhhhh...
Welp. He definitely could not sleep now, certainly not with the way his internal mechanisms thrummed. His memory looped the sensations over and over until he was shaking with fondness.
How was she able to be so sweet?
★・・・・・・★
He couldn't sleep a wink last night. Not even a little bit, partially due to his insomnia and partially due to the effect Ten had on him.
So he was tired. Sure, he stumbled down the stairs. Sure, he clung to walls like his life depended on it. Sure, he sank into his chair at the table.
At the same time, he was like a live wire--so very conscious of what had happened the night before. Everything else was a haze, but Ten coming into his room to make sure he was alright before she went to bed herself? The softness of her lips? The affection emanating from a single gesture alone? Clear as day.
He was so screwed; both from lack of sleep and from how Ten had him wrapped around her clever fingers.
"Uuuurrrgghhhh..." He grumbled into his mug of coffee, made incredibly sweet for his tastes.
"Didn't sleep well?" Nine piped up from their end of the table, concern evident in their voice. Ten glanced up from her breakfast and quirked a brow at him too.
"Hell no! I didn't even-" fall asleep? In saying that he would have to confess that he knew Ten was in his room last night. "-was so awful. I slept maybe a couple hours at most." Good save, Juice.
Nine nodded sympathetically, understanding what it was like to be exhausted. "Yeah, it must've been awful. You're more tired than I usually am." Well gee willikers, Nine, thanks for pointing that out.
Instead of saying that out loud, he aired his grievances by downing more coffee and sourly chewing on a strip of bacon. Even with all the coffee, he predicted that he was set for an epic nap later. Maybe Ten would come and kiss him again while he slept?
Oh good lord he was thinking about it. He felt warmer than his breakfast, than the pan that was on the stove, than the sun itself. Speaking of the sun, would anybody be kind enough to slingshot him straight into it? Thanks.
While he was too drained to notice, Ten scooted closer to him, until they were practically shoulder to shoulder.
"Wow, J. You look like shit." He couldn't even argue because she was completely correct. "You should go lay down."
He was tired as hell, and laying back in bed was appealing to him, so he nodded dumbly. "Mhmm. Gonna do that. Riiiight after I finish breakfast..." He chewed on his bacon, blinking blearily and slowly as he fought to stay present.
He did love a good nap, but he loved food more. No way he was sacrificing his plate for missed sleep. A nap can wait, but a good meal could not.
Ten snuck ever closer, crowding his personal space. Her expression was overly concerned and excessively sweet to the point it was dripping in saccharine. Not that Juice could identify any ulterior motive--he higher than the moon.
"You poor, poor sleepy thing." She cooed teasingly, reaching her hand closes to him to his chin and tilting his face away from his plate and towards her face.
She leaned in--and honestly he should have seen it coming at this point--and kissed him on his lips.
Like a live wire, he sparked; he jolted back at the contact, eyes wide and spooked by his own violent reaction.
Simultaneously, a hand nabbed at his plate--a blur in his slow mind--before retreating just as quick as it came. It took him a few seconds to process, and by the time he came to, Ten was chewing on his bacon, a smug expression on her face.
Nine snorted and was concealing laughter with their hands. Ten looked all too pleased with herself, but shot him an apologetic smile. Although, not nearly apologetic enough to not eat his entire strip of bacon.
Juice blinked slowly at the two of them, his face falling into a deadpan.
"I'm too tired for this crap."
He stood up from the table, breakfast abandoned, and sulked off to hopefully take a nap.
Behind him, the Pioneer siblings shared boisterous laughter--and probably the rest of his plate.
That event seemed to be the nail on the coffin; he was past the point of exhaustion now. He barely felt a thing as he flopped back onto his bed. Nothing but the need for sleep, the longing for a nap, the quest for rest...
...and her smug smile all puckered up and kissing him.
How was she so good at this? What the fuck man!?!
★・・・・・・★
Juice was down for a few hours, and like he predicted, it was quite the epic nap.
However, now he was locked and loaded. Energized and reanimated.
He was gonna get Ten back so bad. She wasn't even going to know what hit her when he swoops in and kisses her! Oh yeah, this is it guys!
But how exactly does he go about it?
He needed to take control of the situation; Ten had him wrapped around her finger for far too long now. She was walking him like some kind of fucking dog. Just because he had that dawg in him didn't mean she could just yank his leash like that!
Okay. Game plan. Super intelligent computer brain--do something!
...god Ten was hot...
Super intelligent computer brain had failed.
He was pacing circles in his room, hand on his chin and leaving an imprint on his shag rug. He would only get once chance before she caught on; it was all or nothing; go big or go home.
Maybe they watch football together, and when something exciting happens he captures her mouth with his unexpectedly, making her swoon for him.
Maybe he approaches her while she's doing some kind of task and sneaks in a kiss while her mind is elsewhere, and then dipping before she can properly turn around.
Maybe he takes her on a really nice date and acts all gentlemanly, and when she's thoroughly charmed he goes for the kiss.
No, no, no, no! As irresistible as he was there was no way he could pull any of that off.
Come on, Juice. This was just pathetic. It's just a peck! It's not like they're using tongue... that their engineers gave them... for those kinds of purposes... Ew.
He kept pacing circles on the shag rug, static charge building up in his frame. His hair was beginning to fluff up and stand on its ends, and he lacked a proper outlet for it. Additionally, his intensely flustered state only exacerbated the issue. He really was a live wire, and any more waiting might cause him to chicken out.
No! He needed to do it now! Be bold! Act before you have the chance to think; better to ask for forgiveness than permission.
He'll have to forgive himself later.
He dashed out of his room and down the stairs, searching for that familiar bob and unamused scowl.
He was going to put an end to this; Ten couldn't be the winner in this game of passion. He needed to end this now, now, now, now--where was she!?!
There!
Ten was staring out the window, turning to face Juice at his approach. Shit. He wanted to take her off guard, but it wasn't like he was being quiet.
He marched right up to her, pushing into her space and backing her against the wall. One of his hands thumped against the wall--much harder than he wanted in his erratic state. Only one hand, because subconsciously he didn't want to box her in.
Ten flinched, but eased up at Juice's inaction beyond that. "J? You good?"
Juice stared her down, back against the wall and staring back at him quizzically. Any potential words he had died in his throat when he looked at her--pretty and pretty intrigued.
"Uhhhhhuhuhhh... what's this about?"
Shit. He was losing control of the situation. Now or never! Go! Do something! Do it, do it, do it do it doitdoitdoit-
He craned his neck to bring his face closer to hers, allowing for absolutely no contact until their lips met. His eyes closed, and he mentally prepared himself for the pleasant sensation that came next.
Only to jump in surprise when he was shocked. Shocked by the static electricity that had been building up with every step, every kiss, and every flustered aftermath.
Based off of Ten's wide eyes, she got shocked as well.
He barely even got to kiss her! What the fuck was that!
Ten's eyes crinkled as she began to laugh. Laugh loudly and rambunctiously. She snorted aggressively, planting her hands firmly against the wall for support.
Invasive embarrassment flooded through his systems, and his temperature climbed to an absurd degree. He'd worry about overheating if he wasn't so humiliated.
Yet he was rooted to the spot, watching as Ten howled with laughter at his pathetic attempt at getting back at her.
"Juice!" She exclaimed before another laughing fit took her over. "Babe--ohmygod--please!" She was barely able to iterate between cackles.
Oh hell no. Mission abort.
Nine was sitting in an armchair in the living room, keeping to themself and buried in a good book. They were sipping on their hot chocolate and simmering in fictional tension when they were interrupted by aggressive thumping coming from the hallway.
They heard him before they saw him. "Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-" Then he was gone again, having sprinting through the entire hallway. This was then followed by the sound of the front door slamming.
Nine tutted to themself, turning away from the hallway and back to the words on the page. Where did they leave off again? They couldn't remember.
'Idiots..." Nine murmured to themself in mild annoyance as they opted to just reread the page from the top.