Chapter 31: Why Do You Get to Hug Two Beauties? (Patreon)

The aircraft touched down on the landing pad at Capsule Corporation, where Bulma was already waiting.

She wore a casual white sundress with sandals, a small handbag dangling from her hand.

The moment she saw Oryon and Lunch step off the aircraft, her face broke into a smile.

"You're so slow. I've been waiting half an hour."

Bulma grumbled even as she jogged over, looping her arm through Oryon's free one as naturally as breathing.

Lunch laughed. "I didn't even have time to cook—I've just been waiting to eat out."

"Cook? It's almost noon already. What time did you two even wake up?"

Bulma's gaze flicked back and forth between Oryon and Lunch, a knowing blush rising on her cheeks.

Lunch pressed her lips together in a smile and leaned close to Bulma's ear. "Oryon said he missed you," she whispered. "He said you're so wet..."

Bulma's face flushed red, and she immediately pinched Lunch's backside.

"Don't say things like that—my parents are right at home. It'd be awful if they heard..."

"Come on, I'm starving. Let's hit the shopping street first."

The three of them walked out of the company gates together, heading down the main avenue through downtown West City toward the shopping district.

Summer sunlight spilled across the street, and the plane trees lining both sides cast dappled shade.

Bulma and Lunch walked on either side of Oryon, their three shadows overlapping on the pavement, drawing plenty of sidelong glances from passersby.

One elegant blue-haired beauty, one wild blonde beauty, and a single man sandwiched between two knockouts—it was a sight impossible to ignore.

The shopping street bustled with people, the mingled aromas of street food thick enough to set anyone's stomach growling.

Bulma's eyes lit up at the sight of a takoyaki stall, and she dragged Oryon straight over.

"Three orders of takoyaki, please!"

Steaming takoyaki arrived in paper boxes, the golden-brown balls drizzled with sauce and bonito flakes, the smell irresistible.

Bulma couldn't wait, stabbing one with a toothpick, blowing on it twice, and popping it straight into her mouth—only to gasp at the heat.

"So hot—whew, whew..." Bulma huffed between bites, still blowing on it.

"Slow down," Oryon said, torn between laughing and sighing, ruffling her hair.

Bulma chewed and swallowed, eyes narrowing in satisfaction. "So good! You should try some too."

She speared another ball and held it up to Oryon's mouth.

Oryon opened his mouth and ate it, nodding. "It really is good."

Lunch tried one too, then just as naturally shoved the rest of her box into Oryon's hands. "I've had enough. Finish the rest for me."

After finishing two, Bulma pushed her box over to him as well. "I'm full too. I'm on a diet lately."

Oryon looked down at the two boxes, both barely touched, and polished off the rest in a few bites.

He'd known coming in that this was how it would go—whatever they left behind would be his lunch.

No sooner had they finished the takoyaki than Bulma spotted her next target.

A crepe shop.

She pulled Lunch along, and the two of them agonized over the menu at the counter for a good while.

In the end, Bulma ordered a strawberry cream crepe, and Lunch went with chocolate banana.

And, predictably enough, each of them ate about a third before handing the rest off to Oryon.

"There's too much cream, it's a bit much," Bulma said, sticking out her tongue.

"Mine's too sweet with all that chocolate," Lunch said, and as she handed hers over, she used a napkin to wipe a smear of takoyaki sauce from the corner of Oryon's mouth.

Oryon worked through both crepes as they walked, and before he'd even finished, Bulma had already stopped in front of a skewer stall.

And so it went—the three of them stopping and starting their way down the street, Bulma and Lunch buying every novel snack that caught their eye,

only to grow bored after a bite or two and hand it off to Oryon for "disposal" as a matter of course.

Oryon never refused a single bite, taking everything they gave him, and by the time they'd worked through half the shopping street, he'd packed away seven or eight different kinds of snacks.

"Burp!" Oryon let out a belch and patted his stomach.

"I'm starting to think you two didn't come here to shop at all—you're just here to stuff my face."

Lunch covered her mouth with a giggle. "Don't you stuff plenty into my mouth too? It's only fair we return the favor..."

Bulma gave a proud little huff. "Hmph, must be nice not having to work. Unlike me..."

Oryon slipped an arm around Bulma's slender waist and pressed a light kiss to her cheek.

"You've worked hard, Bulma. Tonight I'll take good care of you—you won't even have to lift a finger..."

Bulma flushed and pinched the flesh at his waist in mock reproach. "We're out in the street—rein it in. You can't just say things like that."

With that, Bulma glanced up at the sky and pointed toward a cinema ahead. "We're all stuffed, so I guess that takes care of lunch.

There's a new movie playing—supposed to be a romance. Want to watch it?"

Lunch nodded in agreement. "It's been ages since I've seen a movie. Let's go."

Pulled along by one woman on each arm, Oryon let himself be dragged, only half-reluctantly, into the theater.

Bulma bought couple's box seats, choosing a roomier two-person seat so all three of them could fit.

The armrest between the two seats could be folded up out of the way.

Bulma settled naturally against Oryon's shoulder, hugging his entire right arm against her chest.

Lunch followed suit, resting her head on his left shoulder.

Sandwiched between the two of them, an arm claimed by each woman, Oryon could barely move an inch.

"Say... aren't you two hot?" Oryon asked quietly.

Bulma said, "Not at all, the theater has the AC on."

Lunch chimed in. "Yeah, this temperature feels just right to me."

The movie began, and Oryon had meant to actually watch it.

But he found he couldn't get into a romance like this at all—an action flick, now, that might have held his interest.

Fortunately, with a gorgeous woman on each arm, he had plenty to occupy himself, teasing them now and then and earning a steady stream of playful complaints.

Halfway through the film, the theater dim, the leads on screen were gazing deeply into each other's eyes.

On his right, Bulma suddenly leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Are you tired? Hold me properly."

Oryon, caught between amusement and exasperation, said, "My hand's gone a little numb."

But Bulma pouted, so he pulled his right hand free from where it had been and wrapped it around her shoulder instead.

Bulma immediately curled into him like a kitten.

On his left, Lunch murmured into his ear as well. "What about me? You can't play favorites!"

Oryon reached his left hand across the gap between the seats and wrapped it around Lunch's waist.

She turned sideways, her cheek pressed to his shoulder, her breath brushing soft and warm against his neck.

With a woman nestled against each side of him, the scene looked both cozy and charged with something more.

Oryon would stroke Lunch for a moment, then tease Bulma the next.

Both of them kept dissolving into giggles, occasionally sneaking a grab at him down below.

The theater was dark anyway—no one could actually see.

Still, three people coming to watch a movie together was rare enough as it was—what couple came in threes?

And besides, they were being a little rowdy.

Just then, a woman's voice cut in from nearby. "Tch, shameless. Scumbag. Pah!"

The words rang out jarringly in the hushed theater.

Oryon turned to look.

The speaker was a woman seated one seat over from Bulma's right, somewhere in her late twenties, heavily made up and dressed head to toe in designer labels.

Beside her sat a burly man, bald, a thick gold chain around his neck, his arms thicker than Oryon's thighs.

He wore a tight black tank top that showed off arms covered in tattoos.

When the woman saw Oryon looking her way, she didn't back down at all—instead she rolled her eyes,

and deliberately raised her voice to the man beside her. "Honey, just look at some people these days,

carrying on behind his wife's back with a mistress right out in public, and not just one but two, arms around both of them, and not the least bit ashamed of it.

And those two women are just as bad—this is a public place, and they've got no sense of restraint at all."

Bulma's brow furrowed, and she was about to speak up, but Oryon gave her shoulder a light press.

"Just watch the movie. Ignore her."

Bulma bit her lip and held her tongue.

Lunch merely gave the woman a cool glance, said nothing, and settled back against Oryon's shoulder.

Getting no response only made the woman feel ignored, and that made her furious.

She turned to her boyfriend again. "Men these days—get a pretty face and they think they can hit on anyone. And those two women, just as cheap—"

Before she could finish, the burly man abruptly stood up.

"Hey, kid, what gives you the right to have two beauties all to yourself?

You know whose turf this street is?

You're getting a bit full of yourself, aren't you?"