Chapter Text
"Dammit!"
Vriska huffed and dropped the wrench, glaring in defeat at her maddeningly broken kitchen sink. Who was she even kidding? She didn't know how to fix plumbing. Or much of anything. Vriska was more in the business of breaking things.
But her sink clearly needed fixing. She'd have to pay someone to do it. Not that that would be an issue. Vriska was a monster in the stock market; she'd paved her way to retiring at 35 years ago. Only seven more years to go, she reminded herself wryly.
She was about to go get the phone book and hunt for a plumber when she passed the fridge and a slip of paper fluttered out from under a magnet. She bent to pick it up, and saw it was the note Rufioh had scribbled a few weeks ago. Tavros-- with a phone number under it.
What was that for again? Oh, right. Rufioh's kid brother was looking for odd jobs over the summer. He'd given her the number in case she needed any help. Vriska didn't fancy herself the damsel in distress type, but she couldn't deny that her skill set in home matters was fairly limited. She wondered if Tavros did plumbing.
Only one way to find out, she thought, and dialed the number.
The phone rang a few times before a voice answered, "Hello?" He seemed surprised that someone would be calling.
"Hi, is this Tavros?" Vriska asked, leaning against her cluttered counter. "I'm a friend of Rufioh's, he said you were looking for work."
"Oh--yeah, yeah!" he exclaimed, suddenly sounding far more invested in the conversation. "Yes, employment is definitely something I'm, um, actively seeking. Well, not so actively, I guess, since I'm just having my number given out, but I'm still--"
Vriska cut him off. She hated other people rambling. "Do you do plumbing? My sink is fucked up."
He fumbled for a response. "Yes, definitely, I can help with that. Do you, I mean, know what's wrong with it?"
"Can you just come over?" Vriska said, frustrated. "I really need this damn sink working." She gave him her address.
"Um, yeah, I can be there pretty soon, I mean, depending on where you live, compared to where I am now..."
She heard voices in the background shouting all of a sudden. "What's going on?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Oh, um, well, I'm at my friend Aradia's, and we're, well, playing a card game, and I guess Karkat just got owned--"
"When can you be here?" she said, cutting him off again.
He paused before responding, the chatter in the background fading somewhat. "Ten minutes?"
"Five."
"Okay, five."
The doorbell rang a few minutes later. Vriska set down the bottle of nail polish she'd been painting her fingernails with, and went to open the door. "You're..."
Standing on her front porch was the most well-built man she'd ever seen. He was tall, Latino and toned, in a tank top and shorts, with arms that looked like they could sweep her off her feet without much effort. His face was tanned and chiseled, with round brown eyes like his brother's, and black hair cropped short on the sides.
"...Late," she finished, trying to pretend like her panties hadn't just been soaked.
"Sorry," he said sheepishly. Over his shoulder was a black cloth bag, presumably filled with tools. He shifted his weight to his left foot, popping his hip out a bit, and Vriska tried not to show outwardly how hot that was.
"Well, come on in," she said finally, and stepped back to let him through. He walked inside, heeding her directions--"It's straight down the hall"--and giving Vriska a great view of his ass. Goddamn, was he built. She followed him down the hall to her kitchen, noticing his broad shoulders as well.
Tavros set his tools down gingerly on her counter, and located the sink. "This one?"
"Only kitchen sink here," she said, rolling her eyes and passing him to get to it. She bent down, careful to keep her ass high as she opened the cabinet doors. "It's something wrong with the pipes under here, I think. They made a weird gurgling sound this morning and since then it hasn't worked." She straightened up, noticing with satisfaction that he took a second to refocus on her face and process what she'd said. She tugged at her tiny shorts primly.
"Um, okay," he said, pulling a flashlight and a wrench out of his tool bag. "I'll take a look at it."
Tavros lowered himself under the sink, and Vriska hopped up on the counter and crossed one leg over the other, resuming painting her nails. He couldn't see her from under the sink, so she took the opportunity to rake her gaze down his body, taking note of the sizable bulge in his pants.
It was embarrassing for her to admit, but she'd had a bit of a dry spell recently. And by recently, she meant for the past two years or so. It had been a while since she'd really gotten any action. But looking down at the young man beneath her feet, she had a stronger desire than before to cut that short.
She tried to pretend she wasn't thinking about what was in those shorts when he stuck his head out again a while later, reaching into his tool bag again. "I know what the problem is, that's messing up the sink," he said. "It'll only take me a few minutes to fix it." What a shame, she thought, watching the way his arms flexed when he lowered himself below the pipes again. She wouldn't mind having those arms pin her down in bed.
After a few more minutes, he reappeared, and twisted the tap. The sink worked perfectly, better than before. "There," he said, smiling. "That should do it."
WE should do it, Vriska thought before she could stop herself. She forced a normal-looking smile. "Thanks a bunch," she said. She dug in her purse and pulled out his payment, which he gratefully accepted.
They stood awkwardly for a moment, Tavros shuffling his feet and Vriska thinking of all the sinful things she'd like to do to him, he said "Well, I should...probably go..."
"If you must," she grinned. Tavros smiled back awkwardly and headed for the door. Vriska followed close behind, glancing at his ass the whole way down the hall. He opened the door and stepped outside.
"Well, it was nice to, um, meet you," he said. Vriska pretended she didn't see the way his gaze dropped to her magnificently tight blue tank top for a moment. "Thanks for the call."
"You as well," she smirked. "And no problem." He smiled and half-waved before walking to his truck.
God, she had to break her shit more often.