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calpalirwin · 4 years

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Hair or Lungs

A/N: I’m all for giving credit where credit is due, so big thanks to @carebearofriddles for the idea. Hope you guys like it!

And away, and away we go!

~~~

Calum made sure you and Roy were out before he finally came home from his holiday abroad. He, never being an early riser, often caught you and Roy chatting in the kitchen whenever you were over. In eavesdropping on those conversations, he had learned a lot about you. Like how your parents had a rule that you were allowed to do whatever you wanted to your body basically, provided it was temporary, and that you had shamelessly tested those boundaries by coming home with wild streaks of colors in your hair or a new piercing because “it’s temporary!”

You had since grown out of that rebellious phase, only keeping the piercings in your ears and dying your hair less frequently and more normal colors when you did. But you had loved your parents for allowing you that freedom to be you in the most you way, and it was something you planned to do for your own kids when you got to that point in your life. Because “hey, as long as it’s not addictive or harming anyone, what’s the problem?”

Well, Calum had changed up his hair. When you last saw him he was still rocking his blackish fluff of a hairstyle. The length was still the same, but the color was now a silvery blonde. And he couldn’t wait to film your reaction. So, he set up the camera, hit record, and waited.

~~~

“Roy! He’s here!” Calum heard your voice call out happily as your keys unlocked the front door. “Cal?! Cal!” you screamed before running into his arms. “I missed you!”

“I missed you, too!” he said, dragging you into the kitchen where he had his camera still waiting.

He reached down to scoop up Duke who was barking happily at him. He mumbled some cute nonsense at the dog before setting him down. Then, he ran a hand through his hair, drawing your attention to it.

“Oh, my God!” you said, clapping a hand to your mouth. “Cal! Your hair!”

“Looks good, yeah?”

“It looks great!” you said, running your hands through it. Damn, your man looked good. “Upstairs?”

“Now.”

~~~

“So, if he quits smoking before the end of the year, you 2 can’t have sex for 2 weeks,” Roy grinned over at you. Your roommate was tired of your late night sexcapades with Calum keeping him up.

You weighed the options. It was only February. Was this a bet worth taking? Yes, you decided. Calum was about to have a busy year ahead of him which meant your boyfriend would be smoking up a hell of a storm. “You’re on!” you grinned, shaking Roy’s hand.

You and Calum had been dating for close to two years, a relationship only your closest friends knew about. You both had agreed in the beginning of the relationship to keep each other off of your social media accounts and to only be intimate with each other when you were out of the public eye. It was hard, not being able to so much as hold his hand in public, but you respected Calum’s right to keep his relationship with you between just you and him. And, if you were being completely honest, you were scared for the world to know about your relationship. You had seen the type of nasty comments Crystal and Sierra received. No, it was much better to let the world think you and Calum were just friends. Because you were. He was your best friend, and you were his- “girl best friend, Ash, you’re still his guy best friend, calm down”- you just also happened to be dating him.

Calum kept himself hidden as he listened in on the conversation, smirking to himself. He had never had a reason to quit smoking. Until you. And now with this bet hanging between you and Roy, he was more determined than ever to make quitting stick this time.

~~~

The next drastic change Calum did to his hair was he cropped it super short, dying it silver in the process.

Again, he set up the camera to film your reaction.

“Jesus!” you said running your hands through it. “What are you gonna do next? Shave your head?”

Now that there was an idea! He just grinned. “Look, now you can mess it up and I don’t have to fix it before shows,” he told you, running his own hands furiously through his hair. “See? Nothing!”

You pouted. “I liked messing up your hair…”

“And I like not having to fix it,” he said, tapping a finger to your nose.

“We want the curls, Cal.”

“We?”

“We. Me. The fans. The curls. Give them back,” you said, giving a playful tug of his short hair.

“So, you can tug more of my hair? No thanks.”

“You love it, don’t lie,” you smirked, giving his hair another tug.

His eyes closed and he held back a moan. “Upstairs. Now.”

~~~

When he did eventually shave his head, he was in Korea, and you were home with Duke. Recording your reaction was going to take a little more work.

“Oh, God damn it!” you giggled when he Facetimed you. “Your beautiful hair… it’s gone…”

“It’s not all gone,” he insisted, giving his hair a rub. “Ah, that feels weird.”

“Yeah, cuz you shaved your damn head!” you laughed at him. “Oh, Cal…”

He pouted. “You don’t like it, huh?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“So?”

You sighed. “You look great, Cal. You always do. Now, hurry up, and come home so I can not mess up your hair.”

“Just got Australia left, and then I’m coming home to you.”

“You better.”

“I’ll be home before you know it, baby.”

~~~

“Cal!” you shrieked, coming home to find him home.

“Baby!” he smiled, taking you in his arms.

“Damn it! You’re gonna kill me with these hair changes!” you laughed, running your hands through his hair. The shaved head had grown out into a super short buzz cut, and your boyfriend’s hair was silver again.

“Are you saying you don’t like it?”

“I’m saying you’re gonna give me a heart attack with all these looks you keep serving. Just when I think I can breathe easy again, you drag me back to square one with a new look.”

“So, you do like it!”

“Upstairs. Now.”

He smoked his last cigarette after that.

~~~

“So, you actually quit?” Ashton asked as both men sat in salon chairs. Calum was getting his hair dyed blue, while Ashton was reverting back to his natural brown.

“Yep. Haven’t had a smoke in a week.”

“Damn, you really like her, huh?” Ashton teased.

“Fuck you, mate,” Calum laughed.

“In all seriousness though, I’m proud of you for finally quitting.”

“Me too.”

“So, are you finally going to go public with your relationship with her, too? I mean, you’ve been together like what? 2 years? You live together. You quit smoking for her. You just gonna marry her and still keep her a secret or what?”

Calum let out his breath in a huff. “I dunno, Ash. I mean, I asked her to move in after a year of dating 1.) because I love her and shit and 2.) because I felt guilty she’s stayed by my side while I act like we’re just friends in public. Like she deserved for me to show that I’m serious about her, and that was the best I was able to give her.”

“But that was then. This is now. Are you able to give her more now?”

“I quit smoking…”

“Cal…”

“Look, I’ve been making these videos of her, right? Every time I change my hair, I record her reaction. Ryan’s helping me make it into a video to give to her for our anniversary. When I give it to her, I’m also gonna tell her that I quit smoking for good. She makes me want to be a better man, mate.”

“That’s sweet Cal. I’m happy for you, really I am. Y/N’s a sweetheart. But, aren’t you ready to stop hiding behind the anti-love act and own up that you’ve actually been in love with someone this whole time? I know you guys were both scared at first. But, it doesn’t look like she’s going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“I know,” Ashton smirked. Then, “She’s gonna be pissed you made her lose her bet with Roy. No sex for 2 weeks? Damn…”

“Yeah, that’s gonna suck.”

“Is that why you’re changing your hair so much? To make not smoking easier?”

“Shit, maybe… Hair or lungs I guess.”

“I’m glad you’re going with hair.”

~~~

“Calum… Thomas… HOOD!” you screamed, running to put your hands through his bright blue hair. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Keeping you on your toes?”

“More like slowly killing me.”

“I take it you like it?”

“Always, bubs, always.”

“Upstairs?”

“Now.”

~~~

“Oh, Cal…” you breathed, dabbing at your eyes as he showed you the video.

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

“Happy anniversary, bubs.”

“So, you like it?”

“I love it. Thank you.”

“Good, I thought you’d be mad I was filming you in secret.”

You laughed. “Is that why you were changing your hair so much? To make a video?”

“Well that and because it’s stopped me from smoking.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I quit two weeks ago.”

“Oh, Cal! That’s great!”

“I can’t take all the credit. You helped.”

“You quit for me?”

“Yeah. It was do crazy temporary things to my hair or keep damaging my lungs. And I need my lungs healthy because I plan on loving you for a long time.”

“Good, because I plan on loving you right back for just as long.”

“Now, sit, I want to show you something.”

“Show me what? Cal? What did you do now?”

He showed you how he posted the video to his social media accounts with the caption: “So, I’ve been keeping a secret. I’m in love with the amazing, beautiful, and incredibly smart @faby/n and today is our anniversary. She inspires me to be a better man, a better man who changes his hair instead of smoking. Happy 2 years, baby, and may we never stop counting the years together.”

“Oh, Cal…” you said, wiping at your eyes again. “I love you so much, bubs.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask first. But, I’m tired of hiding. I want the whole world to know how much I love you.”

“This is perfect.”

“And as much as I hate to break up this lovefest, you lose Y/N,” Roy said, snapping you and Calum out of your love daze.

“Damn it!” you groaned.

“Lose what?” Calum asked.

“Roy bet me that if you quit smoking this year then we couldn’t have sex for two weeks.”

“Oh, right.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I knew. I heard you guys make it.”

“You made me lose on purpose?! Calum!”

“You bet I wouldn’t quit!”

“Because I know how hard you’ve tried in the past!”

“I get to SLEEP!” Roy cheered.

You pulled a five dollar bill out of your pocket and tossed it at your roommate. “Buy some ear plugs, Roy.”

“What?! No sex! Two weeks! That was the bet!”

“Roy, lemme tell you how this is gonna go down. We all know it’s Cal keeping you up, not me. And you said no sex. There’s still plenty of other things I can do to Cal,” you told your roommate.

Calum cleared his throat as he knew exactly what you were talking about and tugged at his pants as they tightened at your words.

“That’s cheating!”

“It’s called a loophole, Roy. Now, I suggest you run, cuz I’m about to show the world how much I love me some Calum Hood.”

“Wait…? The world? Did you and Cal stop hiding?!”

“Yeah, mate,” Calum grinned at him, showing him the post that was blowing up with love for you both.

“I should’ve known Cal was whipped. Treat my brother right, Y/N. Have fun, you two,” Roy said, clapping a hand on Calum’s shoulder and leaving the house, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

“I’m not whipped…” Calum said, watching Roy leave you to enjoy each other in privacy.

“Cal?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Upstairs.”

“Yes, baby.”

#hair or lungs #calum hood #calum blurb #galcal irwin

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koinekid · 6 years

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K18: Not Like All the Others

For ChestnutFest 2018

Prompt: First Fight / Scars

I’ll be posting some of these stories along with some from last year’s ChestnutFest in my anthology series, Kame Island Romance, on FanFiction.Net.

Note: The following story briefly touches on sensitive subject matter. Read at your discretion.

Rights to Dragonball and related properties are held by their respective owners. No infringement is implied or intended.

Not Like All the Others

By Koinekid

“Not all scars are visible…but with time they might fade...”

—José N. Harris

Krillin should have known better than to leave Eighteen alone with Roshi and Oolong. Their living arrangement was still too new—it wasn’t even clear whether they should classify her as a longterm houseguest or a roommate. And boundaries, which would be obvious to anyone who wasn’t a pervert, had yet to be firmly established.

But Yamcha was only in town for the weekend before starting another monthlong road trip with his baseball team, and Krillin was dying to see his friend. He invited Eighteen to join them for karaoke, but displaying her typical aloofness, she turned away without saying a word.

So, he left, but she never left his thoughts as he reminisced with his old friend. Krillin could barely work up the energy to sing more than a few songs. Yamcha understood.

“Worried about Eighteen?”

Krillin nodded sheepishly.

“It’s okay. If I had a pretty girl waiting for me, I wouldn’t stop thinking about her either.”

He denied it, but Yamcha saw right through him and sent him back home, promising they’d meet up when he returned. “And, Krillin,” he offered as a parting shot, “you’d better have some positive news to report, or I just might make a move on her myself.”

They laughed. Krillin knew his friend was joking. Or hoped he was, at least.

So, his spirits were high as he walked through the front door of Kame House. They plummeted when he heard voices coming from upstairs.

“Move out of the way. Let me see.”

“Quiet down, pig. You had your turn.”

“But I didn’t see anything. There’s too much steam.”

Krillin cringed. They wouldn’t, would they?

He approached the stairs with trepidation, praying he wouldn’t find what he already knew he would: his roommates crouched at the bathroom door, jockeying for position in front of the keyhole. The upstairs bathroom was the only room in the house without a modern lock, and now he knew why.

Master, Oolong, come on.

The pig lifted an ancient-looking hand-cranked drill and positioned it against the wall.

“Shh,” Roshi hissed. “She’ll hear.”

“It’s worth the risk.”

Roshi snatched away the drill. “You should have acted earlier if you wanted your own peephole.”

“Krillin would’ve stopped me. You’d think that spoilsport was still a monk the way he refuses to look at her.”

“Oh, he looks. He’s just better at hiding it than you are.”

“You think he made his own peephole?” the pig asked. “His room shares a wall with the bathroom.”

They looked at one another, then at Krillin’s door. “Nah,” they agreed.

“You’re right about that,” came Krillin’s voice behind them. “I’d never stoop so low.”

Oolong gulped, and Roshi tried to strike an authoritative stance. “Respect your elders, boy.”

“Hand over the drill, Master.”

“No, get your own.” The tool, which he forbade Oolong to use mere moments ago, suddenly became a sticking point, and as the two struggled over it, Oolong inched closer to the keyhole.

“Hey, the shower stopped. The steam is starting to clear. I see leg. Glorious leg. Just another second, and I’ll—” He felt a hand grip his shoulder. “Eep.”

Behind him stood Krillin, holding the bent and broken drill in one hand with Roshi nowhere to be seen.

Oolong chuckled nervously. “Guess I’ll be going now.”

“You guessed right.” Krillin propelled the pig harder than necessary toward the stairs. Sighing, he prepared to follow his roommates to the first floor and have the serious talk they frankly should have had before Eighteen moved in. But he stepped on something, lost his footing, and fell headlong into the door. On his way down, he discovered what had tripped him—the drill’s handle, which must have separated from the rest of the tool during his struggle with Roshi. The drill bit lodged itself into the door with a twang, and before he recovered his wits enough to decide what to do about it, the door opened, and a very wet, very pissed Eighteen appeared, clad only in a towel.

<<>>

Pissed wasn’t entirely accurate. When the door opened, she looked merely confused. Myriad emotions then passed through those crystal blue eyes that always took his breath away: hurt, betrayal, sadness, and finally anger and hatred unlike any he had ever seen from her. Krillin felt very small in that moment, and guilty. Not for anything he had done but for what he failed to do—protect her. He wasn’t her boyfriend. Probably he never would be—certainly not after what she thought he had done. But she was a guest in his home, and the safety he owed her as such, he failed to deliver.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“You’re sorry.” Her anger twisted the word into a curse. “I guess that makes it all right, doesn’t it?”

“I know how this looks, but I didn’t—I wouldn’t.”

“Bullshit!”

He scrambled backwards as she advanced on him. But the hallway was narrow, and his back hit the wall almost instantly. She grabbed the front of his shirt, lifted him as if he were a child and slammed him into the wall. The Sheetrock crumbled around him.

“Eighteen, please. I can explain.”

“I don’t need your explanation. I know exactly what you were doing—the same thing all you men do. You’re just like those perverted roommates of yours, just like…” Her eyes compressed briefly, fighting back tears. “At least they’re honest about what they are.”

“But I’m not like that. I would never disrespect you—”

“Liar,” she shrieked, drawing back her fist. As she did, her towel began to slip. Rather than raise his arms to defend himself, he slammed his eyes shut and averted his gaze.

Her grip slackened, and she dropped him in her haste to secure the towel. “Why’d you look away?” she spat. “Isn’t this what you wanted to see?”

“No, well, I mean, not like this.”

“Oh, so you’d rather watch a woman who doesn’t know she’s being watched. Is that what gets you off?”

“Eighteen, please. I wasn’t spying on you. It’s all a huge misunderstanding.”

“You already admitted you want to see me naked. Admit the rest so you can die with a clean conscience.”

His mouth went dry. “I—I admit…”

She cracked her knuckles. “Yeah?”

“I do think about seeing you...naked, but never without your consent.”

“And what makes you think an ugly troll like you could ever get that?”

He shook his head.

“No answer?” Her face contorted in fury. “That’s just as well. Whatever little fantasies you have about me, get over them. You’re no knight in shining armor, and I’m sure as hell no pure and innocent damsel. That old pervert who turned me into a cyborg had his eyes and hands all over me—”

“That doesn’t make it right for me to look. Or for anyone else.”

“You’re just like everyone else!”

“I’m not. I can’t answer for what others have done to you. All I can say is how sorry I am, that I never would have hurt you. And you didn’t deserve it.”

Her hands shot up, and he thought it was all over. But they rose to cover her face. Sobs racked her lithe frame as she sank to the floor.

Krillin pushed to his feet and walked cautiously toward her. “Eighteen?” He placed a hand on her bare shoulder.

When she met his gaze, the fury and hate were gone, and she looked so vulnerable that he nearly wept with her. She reached toward him, and for a heartbeat, it appeared she would accept his comfort. Then, she slapped his hand away and fled for the safety of her room.

He stood motionless, torn between the desire to grant her the privacy she wanted and the ache in his heart that demanded he comfort someone he had come to care for deeply.

Knocking on her door, he called her name. She gave no answer, and he was about to give up when he heard the sound of glass shattering. With no time for debate, he shouldered his way into the locked room, tearing the door from its frame in the process.

Shards of broken glass littered her bed and floor. He found her wet towel discarded in the middle of the carpet. Several dresser drawers had been flung open in haste or frustration. The majority of her clothes were still there, so she hadn’t packed. Most likely, she had paused only long enough to dress before exiting through the window.

Why she felt the need to go through the window without opening it first was anybody’s guess. Probably she needed something to take her anger out on. Better it than me, he supposed.

Still, he couldn’t help but worry and wonder if he’d ever see her again. Eighteen might return for her clothes in the middle of the night without him or his roommates noticing. Worse, she could abandon them altogether and steal what she needed. He’d hate to see that. She’d come so far in such a short amount of time. Returning to a life of crime would be a waste.

“Be safe, Eighteen,” he whispered. “Please come back.”

<<>>

That night Krillin lay in bed pondering the events of the afternoon. He spent the hours following Eighteen’s departure patching the broken window and clearing the glass from her floor and bed. He’d fly to the nearest town tomorrow and buy the materials necessary to replace the window. It wouldn’t be cheap, but he’d pay for it himself. Though he wasn’t entirely to blame for this fiasco, he could’ve handled it better. He’d also pay for the door, which was his fault.

He found time to talk with his roommates as well and made it clear that, if she did return, she was off limits. One peep, one lewd comment, one inappropriate look in her direction, and there would be hell to pay. Threats proved unnecessary, though. The cracked wall in the hallway had shaken them up already.

Sleep was a long time coming, and when it did, he dreamed of her.

Instead of jeans and a long-sleeved tee, dream Eighteen wore a long white dress. Not a wedding gown. This was of a simpler cut. Krillin was there too, an older version of himself with his hair grown out, dressed in shorts and a loose-fitting orange polo. They strolled on the beach. It might have been Kame Island. He couldn’t be sure. And between them, holding onto a hand each, was a little girl with Eighteen’s blonde hair and his dark eyes and noseless face. They were a family—he could tell—and it may have been the happiest dream of his life.

The little girl ran ahead, laughing and calling Papa and Mama to see what she found. As they knelt beside her, she began to happily bang two seashells together. Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap.

Krillin’s eyes jerked open. Disappointment set in as the day’s events came crashing back into his consciousness. He desperately tried to recapture the dream. If he concentrated, he could still hear the sound of his daughter tapping those seashells together.

In fact, the tapping grew more insistent, and it no longer sounded like seashells.

He sat up in bed, and his heart skipped a beat when he spotted Eighteen floating outside his window, tapping on the glass.

He threw open the window, but when he started to speak, she placed a finger over her lips and beckoned him to join her outside. Pausing only long enough to slip on a pair of shorts—he already wore boxers and a tee shirt—he followed her into the night.

They flew silently for several minutes. Some dark, morose part of himself wondered if she meant to draw him away to his doom, but that wasn’t her style. If she intended to kill him, she’d do it in broad daylight in front of his friends. Correction, that’s what the old Eighteen would have done if she decided to kill someone. And she was becoming a more distant memory with each passing day.

With little warning, Eighteen stopped, and he nearly collided with her. She raised a brow, and he smiled sheepishly. Nodding toward the island below them, she began her descent. He followed.

The moon was out in full, reflecting like a spotlight off the water of a lagoon. Eighteen removed her boots and socks and rolled up her jeans before wading out into the water. Looking back at Krillin, she extended a hand. They waded for some time in the shallow water, holding hands and enjoying the sounds of the night, the gentle surf lapping the shore, the crickets chirping, the breeze rustling the palm fronds.

Krillin pictured the little girl from his dream. She’d love this place, and his heart ached at the thought that she would never see it.

At last, Eighteen broke the silence. “This is my favorite place to think. It’s nice during the day, but at night…well, you can see for yourself.”

“Thank you for sharing it with me. It’s beautiful.”

“Krillin, you—you can ask ask me out if you want.”

“Do you want me to?”

She nodded, her attempt to hide a blush unsuccessful in the moonlight. “You think I deserve to be treated like any other woman, right? Then, ask me out.”

“W—would you like to go out with me?”

“What would we do?” she asked.

“Anything you want.”

She harrumphed. “You’re the one asking me out. You should have a plan.”

“All right, um…” He racked his brain for an appropriate scenario. “There’s this café a couple of islands over. We could go there to talk, get to know one another better. Then take a walk in the nearby park.”

She appeared to mull it over before her face broke out in a smile she’d been trying to hide. “I accept.” Then she leaned over and pressed her lips to his cheek. It was the sweetest kiss he’d ever received, full of hope and longing, a far cry from the scornful, almost violent kiss she gave him on the highway all those months ago.

Straightening, she chewed her lip.

“Are you all right?”

“Krillin, we—I need to take things slow, so…so that I get used to the idea of a man touching me out of purity. Okay?”

Throughout all of this, they had never released their hold on one another’s hands. He squeezed hers in reassurance. “Okay.”

Relief flooded her face. Had she really thought he’d say no?

“So, what now?” she asked.

He took a deep breath of ocean air before releasing a contented sigh. “It’s a gorgeous night, nice breeze in the air. Would you walk with me on the beach?”

She smiled. “Maybe we’ll find some seashells.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, “wouldn’t that be something?”

The End.

Thanks for reading; reviews and comments are appreciated.

#chestnutfest #@chestnutisland #chestnutfest!#krillin #Android 18 #lazuli #koinekid #fanfiction #fanfic #dragonball #dragonball z #dragonball super #dragon ball #dragon ball z #dragon ball super #K18day2k18

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