Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction / Pet Shop Of Horrors Fan Fiction ❯ Dégager: The Saiyajin Pet ❯ Showing Off ( Chapter 5 )

Dégager: The Saiyajin Pet

By Orchideater

AU, Gk x Vg

Rated R for some explicit sexuality

DBZ and all DBZ characters property of Akira Toriyama and official licensees

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Chapter 5: Showing Off

Three weeks after Kakarot entered the irascible businessman's life, Vegeta felt a sudden burning desire to bring the saiyajin into the house and show him the rest of the grounds. He sent away all of the staff for the evening and night, and after Kakarot's meal he led the surprised creature out onto the dark lawn. Kakarot tread slowly, his eyes scanning the area (unfamiliar territory called for caution, after all), until Vegeta grew too impatient and dragged him up to the house.

Once inside he allowed the saiyajin a minute to regain his bearings, and to marvel at the vast and elaborate foyer. Then, smirking, Vegeta began the tour, telling Kakarot about the world-renowned designers and architects he had hired to build the mansion, and about the rare and high quality materials used in every part of the grand estate. He extolled the fine marble floor, the custom made carpets and Persian rugs, and the hardwoods used in the staircase, wall moldings and furniture. Every description included, of course, the phenomenal expense of each luxury item. He showed him the boardroom, for private meetings at the house, and his home office, and arrogantly told him that he made important decisions here every day that affected the lives of countless people, that he regularly crushed rivals and competitors and could destroy a man's career with a signature if he so wished.

As Vegeta slowly led him through the house he pointed out some of his favorite paintings, statues, and art pieces scattered around the walls and corners of the mansion, and gave their market value. He explained why they were valuable in the art world, how much he had to pay dealers, and what he had to go through at auctions to attain them.

While looking, Kakarot idly snatched an apple from a tempting fruit basket displayed on a table and brought it to his mouth. Only at the last second did he realize it was fake, and turned it over in his hands for examination. He couldn't fathom why someone would want a fake fruit around instead of the real thing.

Vegeta noticed this and laughed at him. "Fooled you didn't they? Yeah, they're some of the most realistic I've seen- cost a hundred dollars each! They look good there. I picked them up at Vicente's Gallery, same place I bought that Armani over there."

He pointed to a statuette of a fresh-faced young woman with a greyhound by her side. Kakarot strode over when Vegeta wasn't paying attention, picked it up and peered at every nook and cranny, then set it back down on its stand with a clatter.

"Be careful with that, you idiot!" Vegeta roared. "That's an out-of-production, limited edition, members only Armani piece! Do you know how much that's worth, goddammit?!"

Kakarot could only stare in bewildered shock at his friend's outburst. Finally he made a sheepish and apologetic face to try and soothe Vegeta's temper. He reached for his hand but was slapped away irritably.

Vegeta sighed and scowled. "All right, enough art history. Let's try something else."

The saiyajin had been most fascinated with his 17th century Dutch paintings, which depicted the everyday life of peasants, but he quickly lost interest in expensive bric-a-brac. Kakarot's attention steered back toward Vegeta as usual, as he played with Vegeta's hair, wrapped his tail around his arm or waist, and pulled at his clothes and collar as he often did, grinning mischievously. Vegeta had hoped the saiyajin would be vastly impressed by his possessions and power, but he seemed to regard the mansion and its riches as only mildly interesting oddities, meant to enjoy for a moment and then disregard.

"Come on."

Vegeta led him to the basement, but on the way they passed another Armani, this one even more detailed and expensive than the first. Sure enough, Kakarot grabbed it and examined it. Vegeta stopped and twitched with fury and apprehension. Dammit, I'll wring his neck if he breaks that thing! he fumed. What did I just tell him? However, this time Kakarot set the statue back down with the utmost care. Vegeta's features softened slightly in pleasant surprise. Huh... He does listen to me...

Kakarot looked up at him and flashed a huge toothy grin, once again seeking approval. Vegeta shook his head and chuckled. "You're something else, monkey-man."

Still grinning, Kakarot ran to catch up with him. He threw his arms around Vegeta's neck and pulled him back against his chest in a sportive hug, refusing to let go and thus forcing Vegeta to trudge awkwardly until they came to the stairs. His good humor vanished, however, as soon as they came to the entrance door of the downstairs room and Vegeta flicked on the light. What kind of place was this?

Inside sat Vegeta's personal weight room, well-stocked with over a dozen state of the art workout machines, as well as a large TV/VCR combination and sound system to stave off boredom. Vegeta entered and extended an arm in presentation. "Not bad, eh? I like to keep in top shape, as you can see; I refuse to fall into the stereotype of the fat, doughy executive. I can bench press 350, you know," he declared smugly. "That's more than most guys a head taller than me can manage." The braggadocio was lost on Kakarot though, since he had no idea what a bench press was or that "three-fifty" meant three-hundred-fifty pounds of weight.

"Well, come in here!"

Kakarot took one hesitant step inside the room. He was horrified. All of these machines looked like a cross between torture devices and the spring-loaded traps hunters used to ensnare animals. Vegeta only made things worse when he clicked on the TV. The saiyajin knew about television, but the noisy chaos of flashing, frantic images grated on his senses. He hated having to filter out the demanding voices of news reporters, insurance salesmen, and medication spokespeople in order to hear Vegeta.

"Come over here, I said!" Vegeta barked, pointing to the ground at his feet. "You act like someone just stepped on your grave. Jesus! These things don't bite. Stop acting like you're afraid of a bike and a treadmill."

His tail wound tightly around his waist, Kakarot gingerly threaded through the machines, careful not to touch any of them. Vegeta unfortunately motioned him over to the most intimidating of them all, the universal weight machine.

"Come here, I want you to try out the bench press on this thing." Recently Vegeta had grown terribly curious about the full extent of the saiyajin's strength. Kakarot was so easy-going and eager to please that Vegeta had begun to think of him as a sort of large dog, until the day he'd noticed the sizeable boulder they usually sat on in the greenhouse had been moved closer to the pond. Kakarot was the only person who could have moved it.

"Sit here and try out 400 lbs, to start with. It's all set up. I want to see what you can do." Kakarot shook his head in refusal. Vegeta's brow furrowed, his temper rising again.

"What? What do you mean, 'no?' What's the big deal about you and this weight room?"

Kakarot grimaced helplessly, staring uneasily at the machine. He reached for Vegeta's hand again, but he snatched it away.

"I told you to stop doing that without being asked! Now stop jacking around and sit here; I'll show you what to do." Again, a head shake.

"God, you're a stubborn ass! I don't know what the hell you're afraid of. Look, I'll demonstrate."

Vegeta sat down on the bench, and barely stopped himself from pulling his shirt off, as he suddenly remembered the shopkeeper's third rule. He felt ridiculous doing weights in a turtleneck and had always doubted that Kakarot would actually bite him, but he had kept the pact thus far and was reluctant to break it, especially with his pet being so difficult at present. Vegeta laid down and slid himself under the handlebars, inserting the pin at the 350 lbs. mark.

Meanwhile Kakarot watched, ashen-faced, sure that the guts of the machine would at any second clamp down on Vegeta's head and smash him to a pulp. He tugged insistently on Vegeta's arm.

"Knock it off!" he spat. "Okay, now you see what I'm doing? You hold this and press upward till your arms are straight. It exercises your chest. Now pay attention..."

Unfortunately, in his impatience at Kakarot and his efforts to show off, Vegeta ignored one of the most basic rules of weightlifting: warm up first and work up to your max weight, don't start at your max. Vegeta jerked the handlebars upward- and immediately strained a muscle.

Kakarot had been standing there awkwardly, growing nauseous as he worried for Vegeta, while the overexcited, squealing voice of an empty-headed teen girl introducing the latest bubblegum pop music video grated on his sensitive ears. He was sure the evil machine would spring shut on Vegeta any time now-

"Ah! Fuck... Now I've done it. Hsss!"

Vegeta sat up, wincing a bit at the pain and holding one side of his chest. Glancing to the left, he locked eyes with Kakarot. The world froze as he realized his pet was staring at him, wild-eyed and terror-stricken, on the verge of total panic. Oh, no. No no no no no no, don't freak out on me! he prayed. Vegeta made the mistake of widening his eyes in apprehension, slightly hitching his breath...

A split second later a flash of red filled his vision, and before he knew what was happening, the saiyajin had scooped him up with one arm and with the other sent a tremendous blow to the weight machine. The hulk of the apparatus twisted with a deafening squealing and clanking of metal, weights flailed, and Vegeta's $6000 machine went rocketing through the air, demolishing a punching bag in its path. It bowled over the free weight rack, sending weights of all sizes scattering across the room, crashed through the TV, and finally blasted a huge hole in the plaster wall.

"Yaahhh! What the fuck- my weight machine!"

Before Vegeta had time to appreciate the destruction he found himself upstairs, being rushed into his bedroom. The creature laid him down on the extravagant California king size bed and began to fuss worriedly over him, smoothing his hair and touching his face.

"Get off, get off! Wha-? Hey! Stop it you fool, you act like I'm dying!" Vegeta protested loudly as he pushed away the hands that yanked off his shoes and then prodded and attempted to massage the pain away.

"I'm fine! Get off, I don't need a damned nursemaid! Huh?"

Without warning, Kakarot had vanished out the door.

Christ he's fast- he almost disappears from sight, the reluctant patient thought as he sat back up in bed. Kakarot returned only seconds later with a handful of hot, wet towels. He pushed Vegeta back onto the bed and pressed the towels to his chest, as Vegeta began to protest again.

"Look- Hey! Crap, now my shirt is soaked... Look, I don't need all this, it's just a little pain- stop treating me like a child with a scraped shin!"

Kakarot only gave him a stern look and pulled the comforter up to Vegeta's neck. After this he crawled onto the bed, curled into a ball, and watched him.

Vegeta could only stare back, incredulous. "You're not taking no for an answer are you?" he said dryly. Kakarot flashed him a wicked smile. Vegeta let his head flop back against the pillow, bursting out in laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of the entire situation. He'd made a fool of himself on the weight machine, and now the creature wanted to play emergency room.

"Think you're a doctor now, huh?" Though he had to admit, the towels were helping. "Ahhhhh god... you wrecked my weight room. You completely pulverized half my machines, you asshole. How the hell am I going to explain that?"

Kakarot was unapologetic about the destruction. He instead reached out a hand, placed two fingers against Vegeta's lips to stop them from moving, then gently placed thumb and middle finger against his eyes to shut the lids when Vegeta glanced at him.

"All right, all right, I get the message. I'll shut up and go to sleep like a good boy and recover from my horrible, life-altering injury, okay? Why don't you go on back to the greenhouse, you're probably sick of me by now anyway."

Kakarot only stared at him.

"If you think you're sleeping in my bed you'd better think again! Now go on, I'll be fine."

Kakarot grudgingly crawled off the bed, only to reappear on the floor by Vegeta's side of the bed.

"Wha-? You can't stay there either! I don't want you watching me while I sleep! Now get out, I swear to you I'll be fine; I don't need you standing watch like a guard dog. The servants will be returning in the morning anyway, I can't have them seeing you. Go, go! Have a good night."

Vegeta crossed his arms and turned his head away, nose in the air, signaling the end of the conversation.

Kakarot reluctantly got up and padded out of the room, sparing him one last concerned glance before he left.

Vegeta relaxed under the covers and shook his head. What a night. So much for impressing the saiyajin with wealth and power. That fool had caused thousands and thousands worth of damage and he couldn't truly bring himself to be mad at him- he just seemed so concerned for his well-being. His father would have ignored him, even mocked him; Buruma would have called him a show-off and demanded he see the doctor in the morning. But Kakarot insisted on doing it himself.

Slowly, thoughts dissolved into oblivion as he drifted into a satisfied sleep...

Vegeta's body twisted and strained under the sheets, captive of a second, still more vivid wet dream. The fog surrounding him was lighter, and he was under the impression that it now barely obscured his invisible lover.

Strong hands stroked him and smoothed over his skin, firm, moist lips kissed and suckled down his body and back up again. Deft fingers enclosed over his manhood and pulled with confident strokes, as the body behind him pressed up against his back. Long, soft hair spilled over and tickled his neck and shoulders, as his head arched back, mouth agape in a low moan.

His lover was very tall, of that he was sure now. Perhaps a supermodel... who had he seen on the television the night before? No matter. The sensations were exquisite, the heat and harmonious fit of their flesh unparalleled. He felt so comfortable with this lover, so at ease, so much more free than with any he had bedded before, for this time he could trust completely; there was nothing to prove.

The lover tugged upon his earlobe with perfect teeth, pulled and rolled taut nipples as Vegeta gasped and writhed in pleasure, before running agile hands down the inside of his thighs to begin a final assault on his burning member. Firm strokes, moving faster, harder up and down his rigid length, a second hand fondling, squeezing, lightly scraping fingernails across his heavy sac, and then suddenly a third entity within him, probing, then grinding against a wondrously sensitive spot inside...

Vegeta screamed hoarsely, firing out an arc of thick cream into the endless haze. He felt as though the ejection would never end, as the tsunami of orgasm slammed through him.

A loving, proud kiss on his jawline. Panting and weak-kneed, Vegeta struggled to turn his head. He had to know the identity of his nebulous lover- who was she?

His squinting, straining eyes met only the sight of impenetrable fog.

****

"Mr. Oujisama...? Mr. Vegeta, sir?"

Who's talking? What...?

Vegeta felt spots of consciousness filter into his mind, dispersing the fog of sleep. Timid hands shook his arm.

"Sir, it's morning... Are you okay, sir?"

Blearily opening his eyes, Vegeta focused upon the face of his youngest maid, a thin and careworn young Latino girl.

"Paloma... What are you doing in here... waking me up... What the hell...?"

Paloma immediately began to apologize in her bird-like voice. "Oh, I'm so sorry sir, you know I wouldn't bother you, but this young man was insistent that I check up on you. Why are you sleeping fully dressed?" she added as an afterthought.

Vegeta rubbed his eyes and temples. "Young man?"

"Th-the strange one, sir. I've never seen him before, assumed he was a guest of yours. He seems to be... mute? Or doesn't speak English-"

Vegeta's heart stopped. Oh God... She's discovered Kakarot. That fool let himself be seen, I'll kill him! Wh-what can I do- I can't think straight! Wake up, Vegeta!

"He seemed very worried; he dragged me up here. I found him curled up on the floor just inside the main door, sleeping. He must've been waiting for the servants to arrive- I guess he didn't know we come in through the kitchen entrance." She glanced to the side and Vegeta jerked his head around, only to see Kakarot sitting cross-legged against the wall on the floor not five feet from him, staring anxiously.

Vegeta melted into the pillows in relief. The saiyajin was in his human form.

Shit, I'd almost forgotten he could do that. Is that my father's T-shirt? he wondered.

"I-If I might ask sir... Who is he? It frightened me a bit, to find a strange boy sleeping in the main hall. Is he one of the staff? A friend of yours? What happened?" She pulled the tangle of now dry and stiff towels from him.

"Oh... Ah- yes. I strained a muscle in the gym, that's all. It hardly even hurts now. He was overreacting... This is Kakarot. He's tending the greenhouse while Buruma is away."

"Kakarot, what a funny name! So that's why you told Josef to stay away from the greenhouse. He was quite angry with you," Paloma tittered, then cringed at the death glare he sent, the same one he gave every time someone became too familiar with him.

"I don't give a shit what he thinks. He'd better do as I tell him if he wants to keep his job!"

Paloma shied away and averted her gaze, not wanting to ignite his infamous temper more than she already had, and busied herself with opening drapes. "Um... Kakarot, sir?" She whispered meekly.

"Oh... Well, he's just an idiot boy I took in out of pity. I caught him sleeping in the greenhouse, and he was starving, so I decided to be a Good Samaritan and give him a job," Vegeta stated.

How unlike you, sir, the little maid thought.

Meanwhile Vegeta puffed with self-righteousness and continued the story of his saintly generosity.

"No, he can't speak, and he's slightly retarded too, I'd wager- has no place to go, no possible way of surviving out there alone, so I did him a favor- let him take care of the plants. That's simple enough for him. I'm the only one he trusts- he doesn't like people. I think he's been mistreated in the past," he whispered behind a hand to her, "so he likes to keep to himself. I've had the help stay away to give him his peace."

Paloma couldn't keep her mouth shut. "But sir, he doesn't act afraid of me... And wouldn't it be better to have him get used to the rest of the staff?"

"Who the hell would be afraid of you?! Don't you dare presume to tell me what to do, you little shit! Make yourself useful, get the fuck out of here and make me some damn coffee!"

"Ah! Yes sir!" Paloma squeaked, fluttering toward the door and tripping over her feet.

"And stay the hell away from the greenhouse if you know what's good for you!" he roared after her down the hall.

"And you," he rounded on Kakarot. "You get your ass out of here too- get back to your greenhouse! It's past saiyajin bedtime. GO! Everyone leave me the fuck alone for a few damn minutes!"

Kakarot, who did look tired, pushed himself off the floor, but apparently moved far too slowly. Vegeta booted him in the butt.

"Yiii!"

"Move! Out! Back to your nest!"

After Kakarot had trotted down the hall Vegeta stomped back inside, yanked off all his clothes and stepped into the bathroom. He tried to calm down under the soothing hot shower spray.

Thank God that wet dream was over before she came in, he brooded. That would have been beyond embarrassing, me hard and moaning in front of the help. And goddammit, now the staff knows about Kakarot. But it should be all right though... I think... But maybe just to make sure I'll have a lock put on the door, to keep them out... and to keep him in.

What an embarrassing night. And yet he couldn't forget how the saiyajin had stayed out in the lobby all night, in a form he disliked, just to make sure he received help.

Vegeta pushed everything out of his mind, in order to rally his strength and sensibilities for a day of business.

****

A/N The maid Paloma isn't an insert character, but she is kind of a personal joke. I watch the soap opera 'Passions,' I'm ashamed to say, and some of the main good-guy characters are a Latino family, of which Paloma is supposedly the youngest. She's a character in name only- nobody's ever seen her, she's only there to bring in once they need a new character in the future- she's been supposedly sent to live with relatives for money reasons. So I put her to work for the world's most difficult boss, Vegeta. Yes, I have a bizarre sense of humor.

Watch a few episodes of Passions, and then try not to scream insults at the TV. It's the most ridiculous, infuriating soap you're likely to find. The bad guys always seem to win and the good guys are so damn dumb you can't really root for them either, it takes ages for anything to happen, and the writers leave plot holes the size of Mt. Everest. Why do I keep watching it, why why why!? Sigh... because it's on during lunch, and it's something I can talk about with my mother since she watches it too. One cool thing though: a girl who used to go to my church is married to one of the characters, the blonde cop named Hank. She brings him with her to our church for Xmas and Easter- and yes he is as handsome in person as on the show!

In chapter 6: After a certain someone trespasses in the greenhouse, Vegeta finds out what happens when Kakarot *really* gets angry...