Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Coda ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

CODA

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z. Bigger, better and richer folks do.

Warnings: V/G yaoi with no Bulma or Chi Chi bashing. Possible tearjerker depending on how easily you cry at things.

AN: This story concludes the story told in “And Then There Were Three” and “Coercing Kakarrot.” You probably should read those first, otherwise you will be a little lost.

Acknowledgments: Gutterball, of course, for her story “Coercing Kakarrot.” A thank you to Orchideater and Pixelgoddess for their thoughtful feedback on ATTWT which got me thinking about Goku.

Of course, thanks to debbiechan for everything, and Ember for being the most wonderful and supportive beta of All-Time. I would need to be a millipede to give you all the hugs you both deserve. Of course, if I was a millipede, I probably couldn’t get near enough to you to give them to you. *normal two-armed hugs*

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Chapter One


“Goku.”

The voice calls to me across the sand. I move to answer, but reluctantly. I had been taking a nice nap in the sun on the sand.

I look up and Jeordi is coming toward me, waving a large envelope. He’s showered and dressed in slacks and a button down shirt, looking quite different from the lazy island boy I normally see. My some-time pupil and more frequent lover. He must be going to see his parents on the big island.

I stand as he gets closer.

“This came for you,” he says. “It looked important.”

He stands and waits as I glance at the envelope. The return address is from a law firm I’ve never heard of. Of course, I never dealt with lawyers---Chi Chi handled that sort of thing.

“Thank you,” I say. “You didn’t need to bring it out here though. I could have just come to the house to see it.”

“I thought it looked important,” he says and waits again. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

Jeordi’s eyes burn with curiosity. There’s an enthusiasm that shines there too. He gets excited over little things. I finally realized that’s what drew me to him --- the enthusiasm, the joy of living. He reminds me of myself many years ago, when everything was simple and easy --- before I learned what loneliness was.

“Later,” I say. “Are you going to see your parents?”

“Yeah, my dad called. There’s a small tournament on one of the islands, and he wants to see if he’s getting his money’s worth.” His eyes shift down nervously. He hasn’t spent anywhere near the time training that he should have. He wants to be a great fighter, but he seems to think that sleeping with his sensei will give him the skills he needs, rather than training.

“Just stick to the basics, and you should do fine,” I say and pat him on the shoulder. He looks up into my eyes with hope and more than a little love. Jeordi fancies himself in love with me, which I find amusing because he doesn’t really know me. He wasn’t even born when Buu attacked. To him, I’m Son Goku, nomad trainer extraordinaire. His father hunted me down on Uub’s recommendation to train his son. I’ve been here the past eighteen months training Jeordi as much as he would let me. He has natural skill and loads of potential, but he lacks the commitment and drive a martial artist needs to be great. The local tournaments don’t bring out many very good fighters though, so he should do okay. He might even win, which should keep his father off his back for another three months.

“Did you want to come?” he asks. It’s clear he wants me to come, but I don’t want to go. Perhaps if he had taken his training more seriously I might, but watching him half-ass his way through mediocre fighters doesn’t interest me in the least.

“I think it would be best if you went this one alone,” I say. He pouts. “Hey,” I lift his chin with my fingers, “just think how proud your father will be if you win it by yourself, without me there coaching. I think that would really impress him.”

His expression lifts, but he’s still unsure. “You think so?”
“I know so,” I say and grin my most charming smile. “I’ve been doing this a long time. Trust me.”

He grins himself then, whether swayed by my “expertise” or my smile, I don’t know. “Okay,” he says and trots off toward the landing pad. He spins around and shouts, “Wish me luck!”

“Good luck” I shout.

A thank-you wave and he is gone.

I shake my head a little. I hope he wins, I really do. For one, if he loses, his father will come here and want to know what’s he’s paying me for, and I’ll have to come up with lots of explanations about why Jeordi isn’t the greatest fighter in the Coconut Islands without saying he’s lazy. His father might fire me, which in the large scheme of things is only inconvenient since I would have to leave and find another island. Jeordi would pout, expect me to stay anyway, which is probably reason enough to want to leave.

I look at the envelope in my hand and stroll across the sand to the shade of the palm trees. I lean my back against a trunk and slide down into the sand, tearing off the top of then envelope as I do so. There is a letter and two envelopes inside. The letter reads:

Greetings, Son Goku: Per our client’s instructions we have forwarded you the enclosed.

I pick up the envelopes. One is blank on the outside, the other has my name handwritten on it. I gasp as I recognize the script --- Bulma!

My eyes water. I swallow and slowly open the envelope.

Dearest Goku:

How the mighty have fallen, eh? I’m not talking about being dead (although if you’re reading this, I most certainly have been for nine months,) but rather that I’m reduced to writing to you like an acquaintance from school. I wish I had the courage to summon you, but honestly, I’m scared to death you won’t come. I’ve got enough failures in my life, and I don’t want to die with one more. So I’m writing this letter and telling the bloodsucking lawyers to deliver it after I’m dead. Chickenshit, I know. Don’t think too badly of me, at least not any more than you already do.

I would love to ask the questions I’ve wanted to, but there’s no point since I’ll never hear the answer. So I’ll sum up and say that I desperately hope you’re happy. Goten tells me you’re living with a nice girl on an island somewhere. It sounds lovely. I hope it’s everything you want.

I’ve missed you so much. I know why you left, why you stay away. Stop shaking your head! I know that Vegeta and I hurt you terribly. It was clear in the way you avoided any contact but the most unavoidable. Weddings, graduations --- the briefest of hellos and goodbyes. Funerals.

There aren’t many of us left from the old days. After I go, it will be just you and Piccolo. I don’t see Piccolo anymore. Without you to bring us together, there is just no reason.

Sorry, I’m rambling. There is a reason for this letter. I want to tell you something about Vegeta, something you may not realize.

Are you still reading? I suppose I have no choice but to write as though this letter isn’t in the trashcan.

The day Bra was born, you came to the hospital, and you spoke to Vegeta. I was awake, and I heard what you told him. I wasn’t eavesdropping. The anesthesia hadn’t worn off completely, and I couldn’t do anything yet. Anyway, you told Vegeta that he had to let go of all his “bullshit” before you could be with him again.

That’s what I wanted to tell you about---his bullshit. Yes, he has a lot, but so much of it is what makes him Vegeta. If you took it all away, he wouldn’t be the man I love, and he won’t be the man I think you loved.

There is a part of Vegeta that he will always keep to himself. I don’t know if it’s a Saiyan thing or if it’s a survival instinct leftover from Frieza. He holds it close inside where it’s safe from everyone else.

It hurt a lot in the beginning, back in the days when you were dead, and Trunks was a baby. I was so in love with Vegeta; I wanted to give him everything, make him happy. Everyday I wondered if today would be the day I would make him happy, that he would be so pleased with me that he would let me inside. No, that’s not right. I wondered if he would trust me enough to let me see inside.

But slowly I realized that I would never be allowed inside. It wasn’t a matter of love or a matter of trust. I know I had both. It was a matter of self.

That’s the core of Vegeta, those hidden things he holds apart from the rest of us. To reveal them, to be so open would destroy him, to change him forever from the man he is now.

And that’s the price you have to pay to love Vegeta. You will never be completely inside, never touch all of Vegeta. But, if you’re very patient, there are times when he will show himself to you, all of himself, and when he does, it’s like staring into the sun. You live for those moments, the unconscious gift of a brief glimpse inside. It’s cliché to say it’s beautiful, but I can think of no other words to describe it.

I know you’re wondering why I’m writing this and no, this isn’t a matchmaking attempt from beyond the grave. I’ve done that once before and hurt you terribly. Let’s just say I’m giving you insider information so you can make an informed decision.

Whatever you decide, there is one favor I would ask of you. The other envelope contains a letter to Vegeta. You don’t have to give it to him yourself; of course, you could send it back to the attorneys or ask Goten to leave it at CC. It’s nothing earth-shattering; just a few random thoughts I jotted down one day. If it winds up in the trash, no harm done. But maybe, for old time’s sake, you could see that it gets to Vegeta.

That’s really all I had to say other than I love you. No one could ever have a truer friend than you, or a better lover. I’ve led a charmed life, a blessed life and so have few regrets, but I do regret hurting you. In the next life, maybe you can forgive me.

In this life, perhaps you can forgive Vegeta.

Yours,

Bulma

“Oh, Bulma,” I whisper. “Did you really think I had never forgiven you?” I wrap my hands around my knees, put my head down and cry. I cried when she died, but not like this. I was sad then of course, but now, holding her letter and knowing I can never answer, never tell her how wrong she was, now I know she’s gone. Bulma is dead and she’s not coming back. It hits me like a freight train and all I can do is hang my head and cry.

But you can only cry so much and eventually my sobs fade into a dull ache. I look at the letter again. It’s dated three years ago. My lips press together and I sigh. That was before the cancer really took over, when there was still hope. It explains why she thought I was still living with Maali. . . .

I stand up, brush off the sand, and head back to the house. I wander through the kitchen, eye the fruit on the counter, but I’m not hungry. I stroll back to my room, lay down on my bed. I read the letter again. This time there is only resignation, acceptance. I cannot tell Bulma how wrong she was. My absence wasn’t meant as a punishment . . . it was just . . . .

It was time to go. There was nothing for me there anymore. Goten was grown and living on his own, Gohan was settled, a father himself. When Uub appeared, I knew what I had to do. The fact that it spared me from awkward encounters with Bulma and Vegeta was a bonus, but not the reason I left, not the reason I stayed away.

But I seem to have a knack for doing the wrong things for the right reasons. No, that’s not right. The things I do are right. I think the difference is that I now realize that life is just a lot more complicated that I used to think it was; people are a lot more complicated.

I’m a lot more complicated.

I guess that’s the biggest difference in my life now. I think about myself when I make decisions, not just everyone else. Once upon a time I would have stayed with Maali because she wanted me too, but I didn’t love her, not the way she wanted --- the way she deserved. Once I would have stayed because of her, but I left because of me. It was the right thing to do, but it hurt her terribly. I can’t make everyone happy at the expense of my own happiness. I know that now. It was a lesson I learned a long time ago.

From Bulma and Vegeta.

It’s been so long since I thought of that time. Years, truly. I was a different person then. I remember feeling so lost once Chi Chi was gone. Goten was grieving; I tried to be strong, not show how much I missed her. Everything from laundry to grocery shopping seemed a challenge.

Then everything changed and in the most unexpected way.

I will always remember that night. The surreal aspect to it --- Bulma’s distraught tears, her lips, her hands telling me she wasn’t that distraught. Vegeta’s sudden appearance, his cock in my face. Do you want this, Kakarrot? It most certainly wants you. The shock of desire, the need, and then finally, the fulfillment.

Once I came down, I knew I had been set up. It was only the next day that I realized how far it could go. They were both gone the next morning, but Vegeta found me after I had dressed and told me to follow him. He led me to a glade near a forest. I was uncomfortable about what had happened. I still wasn’t sure what everything meant.

“So do you know what last night was about, Kakarrot?”

“Sex?” I said.

He smiled at me then, a small, knowing smile. “Yes, sex. But do you understand what’s being offered?”

“Sex?” I answered again.

A deep chuckle. I felt it down to my toes. “Not just sex, Kakarrot, but great sex.” He moved closer to me. “Wouldn’t you like to let go? Not hold back?” he purred. His hand trailed up my arm. “Burn? Wouldn’t you like to burn?” His hand reached behind my head then, and he pulled me down for a kiss. It was different from the night before. Before there had been too much going on, but that time, all I could feel was his tongue gliding through my mouth, making me . . . burn. I lifted a hand and pulled his face closer, winding my own tongue around his. He moaned at my touch, but pulled back.

“So do you understand what I’m offering?”

“Yes,” I said and leaned down to kiss him again. One kiss wasn’t enough. He put up one hand and stopped me.

“Do you want it? Do you want . . . me?” I remember being a little bewildered at the time by his question; I thought wanting to kiss him again was answer enough, but I now know he wanted to hear it on my lips. He wanted me to tell him I wanted him.

“Yes,” I leaned my head down again, but the hand stayed. I licked my lips. “I want you.”

The hand descended and this time I got to taste his lips again. I remember thinking “hot” at the time. His mouth was so hot. His hands slid up my chest, stroking squeezing, then around my back, down to my ass. More stroking squeezing.

Something about this jumpstarted my mind and a question popped in. I broke off the kiss.

“What about Bulma?” I asked.

Confusion. “What about her?”

“I mean, shouldn’t she . . .? Is she . . . ?”

“This was all Bulma’s idea. She is more than okay with it. Couldn’t you tell last night?”

I thought back and yes, Bulma did seem very . . . interested in last night. Then I couldn’t think anymore because Vegeta’s hand had slid around and began to stroke my cock. I pulled back, embarrassed.

“What’s the matter,” Vegeta asked, amused. “Shy?”

I looked down. “Yes. A little”

He stepped toward me again, but he didn’t put his hand back on my cock, just on my chest. “You know that I have to touch you to have sex, right?” There was a low purr in his voice. I didn’t know the right word then, but I do now. I was being seduced.

“Yes.”

“Let’s try this again,” he purred and his hand lowered slowly. I bit my lip as it neared its goal, then his hand veered off to the side and stroked down one thigh. It came back up, then descended again, this time stroking my inner thigh. One more time he repeated the touch and I moaned in frustration. I wanted his touch.

“Did you want something?” Vegeta asked.

I nodded. Vegeta waited. I couldn’t form the words; it was too alien to ask for something like that. His hand glided down my inner thigh again, skimming by where I wanted his touch.

“You’re going to have to say it, Kakarrot,” he whispered. Impossibly, his voice got even deeper. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Touch me.”

He rewarded me by immediately stroking my cock’s hard length. I leaned down and he let me kiss him again. I ground my hips against his hand as he plundered my mouth with that hot tongue.

Then his hand was gone, but he was unfastening my pants, pulling away my underclothes. I took off my shirt myself and stood naked before his gaze. He looked me over with an anticipatory smirk, then his hands were on me again, running over my bare chest, teasing my nipples. His lips joined his hands, licking, sucking.

“Lie down,” he ordered and I complied. He knelt beside me, looking at me again, and I remember feeling beautiful with his gaze on me. He covered me then, kissing my lips, my neck. He nipped, drawing blood and his tongue lapped at the taste lovingly. Then his lips went lower, back down to my chest. His hot tongue warmed my chest, laved my nipples, circling them before sucking hard. It was sweet torture and I moaned his name. His lips went lower, sweeping across my stomach muscles, my hips, my---

“Vegeta!” I sat up.

He glowered at me. “What the hell is wrong with you, Kakarrot?”

“You can’t . . . you were about to . . . .” I blushed.

“Suck your cock?” he supplied. “Yes, I was, until you --- pardon the pun --- blew the moment.”

I felt even more blood rush to my face. Comprehension dawned in his eyes.

“You mean you never . . . Chi Chi never?”

“No!” I said, appalled.

“Then you never went down on Chi Chi?”

“Went down? You mean with my mouth? No.”

A lascivious grin spread across his features. It was beyond pleased --- it was predatory. He leaned in for a kiss. “Oh, the things I have to show you,” he breathed before his lips descended and kissed me hard. “You have definitely been missing out,” he said, and his lips grazed my cheek, my neck. I felt him pressing me back to lie down on the grass. I wanted to protest --- I just couldn’t get comfortable with the idea of . . . that --- but his lips and hands coaxed me back to a state of lust where I just couldn’t think anymore. His tongue slid across my chest, licking, sucking, and little nips that drew blood. He licked at the small wounds, moaning. The scent of my own blood filled my nostrils, and I found myself wondering what Vegeta’s blood would taste like. His fingers found my cock, teasing lightly, cupping my balls. His mouth descended further down my stomach, and I kept asking myself if I was really going to let this happen. Then his mouth covered my cock, and I knew that I wouldn’t let him stop.

Moist heat devoured me, his tongue caressed me and distantly I heard my moans fill the air. I became aware of my hands in his hair, encouraging this touch, and for a moment I was struck anew with the awareness of what was being done to me, that it was Vegeta doing it. His head bobbed up and down, sucking, licking, tasting and he moaned, growled in response to my pleasure. It vibrated down my cock and I came hard into his mouth, pumping everything I had into that moist heat. I felt his lips close around me, swallow all that I have given. The cool air hit as he took his mouth from me, and I opened my eyes to look at him. Part of me expected a smirk, but all I saw was desire in his eyes. Maybe later he would smirk, but then, he wanted more of me.

I sat up on my elbows, unsure of what to do next. Nothing in my meager sexual experience had prepared me for this onslaught. So I just stared at him, noticed the slight flush to his cheeks, the wet lips that surrounded that incredibly hot mouth. He moved, jerked off his shirt and stood to remove his pants. He stood naked above me, his cock full and hard. My mouth watered, and I wondered if he wanted me to do that to him. I licked my lips.

He stood there a moment, then he lifted his hands to his cock, stroking. He watched me, watched me watch him stroke himself. I had no idea what he was thinking. Finally, I spoke.

“Did you want me to . . .” I couldn’t finish the thought, but Vegeta knew what I was talking about.

“Another time perhaps,” he said, looking, stroking. I grew uncomfortable under his penetrating gaze.

“What are you thinking about?”

“I’m trying to decide how I want to fuck you,” he said and I grew embarrassed again by his frank talk. Later, I would learn how to join in, to turn him on with words of my own, but then, it was all too new.

He knelt down beside me, kissed my lips, used his tongue to wrap around mine. His lips trailed across to my ear. “I’ve thought about it for so long, you see, I want to do it just right.” He licked my ear, his hands were on my chest, and I felt my cock respond to his voice, his touch. The thought of Vegeta fantasizing about me was stunning. I never even realized Vegeta thought about me, yet here he had been thinking of fucking me. There was a niggling thought in the back of mind, and I recognized that Vegeta wanted me. He wanted to touch me, kiss me, lick me, suck me, fuck me and I swelled with pride. It made me bold.

“Fuck me however you want,” I said and his lips left my chest, so his eyes could burn into mine. There was a small smirk and he laid down on me and kissed me until I was breathless. My hands swept his back, grasped his buttocks and squeezed. I grew curious, and my fingers reached in between his cheeks and stroked him there. He moaned and pushed off me, kneeling between my legs.

He looked down at me, lust burning in his eyes and my eyes trailed down his perfect chest to look at his full cock. I reached up with one hand and stroked it gently. The skin was so soft, but he was hard underneath. He hissed as my touch, and his head tilted back in pleasure as I played with him --- and it was play, something I had never really thought about in conjunction with sex before. I toyed with him, watching his reactions, reveling in his pleasure.

He pulled his cock from my hands with a jerk of his hips. “No more now,” he rasped, and he bent my knees so my feet were flat on the ground. He brought his hand to his mouth and coated his fingers in spit, then brought them to my opening. His touch was cold and hot as he stroked me. I didn’t tense up against him as he pressed a finger inside, then two. I knew that pleasure would come. He brushed against my inner wall, against a spot that made me shiver. My hips bucked as he stroked. When he thought I was ready, he eased his fingers out of me and leaned on his hands, bringing his hips to mine. “Tilt up,” he said and I did. I felt him press again me, pressing, pressing and then he was inside, filling me with his warmth.

“Oh, Kami,” I heard him say, and then he moved, thrusting slowing at first, but once he found the spot he was looking for inside, once he heard me moan, he thrust faster, harder. I could see it building inside of him, felt it building inside of me. He leaned down and bit my chest, drawing blood. He sucked on it hard, and then he kissed me. I tasted myself on his lips and moaned into the kiss.

He broke the kiss off and looked down, where our hips joined and watched himself fuck me. He got an almost goofy grin on his face as he watched, as if he couldn’t believe he was really fucking me. Then his eyes closed as his face contorted in pleasure. He reached between us and grabbed my cock, stroking. “Cum with me,” he said, and I didn’t need to be told twice. He rammed himself into me with a howl and I came in his hand, felt the wetness on my chest. He pumped once, twice more as he came down from his orgasm, then he collapsed against me.

We laid like that a while. No stroking, just a stunned stillness. The clouds passed overhead, the wind blew. It was like nothing had ever happened.

But everything had happened. Everything changed.

We met almost daily after that. I couldn’t get enough of him. He was aggressive, seductive, patient. I learned to pleasure him with my hands, my mouth, my cock. I fell in love with him then, I think. Fell in love with the burning desire in his eyes, the playful lust he teased me with. He was . . . charming. Looking back, I know it was easy for him to be charming, playful with me. I didn’t ask for anything but his touch, something he was eager to give.

He answered my questions about sex, and I had so many early on. Being with Vegeta was a revelation for me. The sex was a revelation for me. I think back on my sex with Chi Chi, our shy caresses --- it was so childish. I try not to blame myself; Bulma said we got married so young and neither of us had close family to ask questions. Chi Chi surely wasn’t going to ask her dad and the only person that I knew who knew about sex was Master Roshi, and everyone knew there was something wrong about him. We did the best we could, I suppose. We enjoyed sex when we had it, but I never grew hard just thinking about being with Chi Chi. That first month with Vegeta I was hard before I left the house, something that was definitely awkward with Goten around. I couldn’t help it though. All morning I would wonder what we would do after fighting. Would he suck me? Would I suck him? Would it be from behind or face to face? Or both? I remember when I finally got the courage to ask if we could do it first, before we sparred.

“Can’t wait, eh, Kakarrot?”

I blushed. “I’ve been thinking about it all morning,” I mumbled and looked away. I thought then it was a mistake to reveal how much I wanted it, that it would make me look weak. Then I learned nothing turned him on so much as me wanting him.

“It’s hard to wait, isn’t it?” he said, coming over to me. He stroked me through my clothes. “I like you hard,” he whispered. He put a hand behind my head, pulled it down close to his lips. “Hard for me,” he said. “What do you want?”

His voice vibrated through my body. Was it the first time he had ever asked me that? I can’t remember. I said the first thing that came to my mind. “Suck me,” I said. “Hard.”

He smiled at me, pleased at my dirty talk. He had gradually been trying to get me comfortable using “the language of sex,” and my lust eventually overtook my shyness, allowed me to say things that Chi Chi would have slapped me for.

He made me lie down, unfastened my pants, pulled them out of the way and gave me what I asked for. I came in a minute, and was ashamed at my lack of control. Then I realized that he just wanted to take the edge off my lust. He wanted to fight first --- it was foreplay to him I think.

“Better?” he asked.

I stretched under his gaze. “Much.” I raised up to my elbows and look at him. “Thanks.”

He shrugged. “Can’t have you distracted while I’m pounding your face. Wouldn’t be fair.”

He didn’t move and neither did I. I don’t know where the next thought came from. It just popped into my head and out through my lips before I could think. “So do you . . . go down on Bulma?”He froze a moment, whether he was surprised or offended by the question I didn’t know. But he answered me --- I will always remember his answer.

“Of course. Bulma spread on a cracker is one of my favorite meals.” He waggled his eyebrows as he said it, his lip curled into a secret smile as he thought about going down on Bulma.

“Is it different from . . . us?”

Again he froze first, then he answered my question. “Of course. Woman are very different. Feel different . . . taste different.”

“How?”

No freeze this time, but he was getting impatient with my questions. “Sweet,” he said, pulling me to my feet. “I can’t describe it. You’ll just have to find out yourself one day.”

He punched me then, signaling the discussion was over and the fighting had started.

Despite the blowjob, I found that I was distracted during the fight anyway, but by Vegeta’s words.

Feel different.

Taste different.

Sweet.

You’ll just have to find out yourself one day.

Later I would realize his off-handed comment wasn’t meant as an invitation to taste Bulma, but at the time I took it the way I wanted to take it. Maybe “having them both” did include Bulma. Three months ago, I would have laughed if someone had told me Vegeta wanted to fuck me, but he did and often. So I thought back to that night when everything changed, and I thought about how soft she was, how smooth and silky, how she smelled --- more than just her cologne, but another scent, a heady aroma of desire that filled my nostrils.

The more I thought about it, the more I believed that I would just have to find out for myself. So I waited for a weekend when the boys were gone, excused myself from the gravity room and found Bulma.

She was surprised by my kiss, but she kissed me back. She tried to protest, but I reminded her of what Vegeta said that night. I touched her breasts, licked them, sucked them. I can’t say that I made love to her like I did to Vegeta, but I used all the things he taught me about pleasure and want, and when I stroked her between her legs, when her hips bucked against my hand, I knew I had learned well. Nothing had prepared me for the onslaught of her scent, her taste, the feel of her silky wet skin beneath my tongue. I tasted her, and Vegeta was right. It was different, so different. I can’t describe it either.

She sounded so wonderful when she came, not the little mews that Chi Chi used to utter, but load moans that made my cock quiver. I wondered if she would let me fuck her. I wanted to; I wanted to slide into that silky, slick warmth I remembered so well from that night. I didn’t get the chance, not just then at least.

I will always remember the edge to Vegeta’s voice when he announced his presence that day. It told me everything. This had never been about what I wanted or what Bulma wanted, but about what he wanted. I was his and Bulma was his and he could do with us what he liked and to hell with everyone else, so long as he got what he wanted. In that moment I knew that it all our time together was about him. It didn’t matter how good it felt, how hard I came --- it was still what Vegeta wanted.

And that was the end of it. Or so I thought.

When it was all over, when we were all over, I could look back at that afternoon and see the truth of what happened. Bulma was fixing things for Vegeta, the way she always fixed things for Vegeta. That afternoon though, as I watched her go down on Vegeta, saw the look in his eyes as he watched me watch them together; I thought it was an invitation of a different sort. Or maybe I didn’t care. I had done so many new things, felt so many new things that stripping off my clothes and joining them on the bed was completely normal. I know some part of me knew that was what Bulma wanted. I just didn’t understand why that day. I didn’t for three years. Then it hit me like a hammer.

But before that, it was so good. The sex, the companionship. Things suddenly seemed easier. I was happy. I wasn’t lonely. I didn’t think about the oddness of the relationship (although we agreed to shield the boys from the truth of it.) We were suddenly together, sharing each other, enjoying each other. It was like a great gift. Almost a new family.

Then the baby happened, and everything came crashing down. We weren’t sharing after all. Despite three years in his bed, Vegeta still considered me an adversary, a rival. And Bulma? Well, like she said, Vegeta was her husband. I was . . . a friend that she slept with to please her husband.

I woke up that day. I realized I could lose --- that I had already lost. It was . . . foreign to me really. I’ve never believed there wasn’t a way to win. I’ve never given up on anything. Even death wasn’t a true loss, just a temporary situation until I crossed over too. But this . . .

There was no winning this. I was out. Bulma had her baby and Vegeta. Vegeta had his baby and Bulma. I had nothing. Oh, I could have still had Vegeta; Bulma made that quite clear. We could have still met and fucked. Somehow it didn’t seem the same with the veil off. It seemed . . . dirty now. I didn’t want to be dominated through sex because Vegeta couldn’t beat me in a fight.

Things got hard again. I was lonely. Goten was lonely. He didn’t get to see Trunks very often and wanted to know why. I couldn’t very well tell Goten the truth, so I took him on an adventure. “One like Gohan and I had,” I told him. I took him to New Namek and Yadrat. I had only been back three years when Chi Chi died. I realized that I didn’t really know Goten, not like I knew Gohan. He told me about growing up, and I told him stories about me. We learned to be on our own together. When it was time to go back, I knew things would be better. Goten and I, we would make it fine.

Goten graduated. I started training for the Budakai because I got a sense that something was about to happen, that someone was about to happen. Uub was everything I hoped he would be. He was such a good pupil. I fell in love with these islands. The sun, the surf. The tempo was slow. So after I had taught Uub all I could, I stayed.

Uub sends me pupils. They pay me lots of money for training. I don’t set the price; Uub tells them what I charge. They pay anyway. I keep enough to have what I need, but I give a lot of it away. There’s always someone who needs something. I remind myself of Bulma sometimes, always giving stuff away just because she could.

There have been many lovers since Bulma and Vegeta. I seem to draw them; I don’t know why. Some have been my students, but most have just been people who find me attractive. Maali was the exception. She truly loved me, probably knew me better than anyone since . . . the old days. I know I made her happy, but I tried. I knew I was trying and it just felt wrong. I left her on a beautiful morning when the tide was out and the beach seemed to go forever. She cried, but she knew, she said. She knew she wouldn’t hold me for long. She said she saw my past in my eyes, that something was always holding me back.

I have no idea what she was talking about.

Do I?

I look at the other letter, the unopened one. The one meant for Vegeta. I wonder what it says? She said it was nothing important, but she’s gone to a lot of trouble to make sure he gets it.

And she wants me to give it to him.

Here is where I want to stop because I don’t want to think about this. About Vegeta.

I say I left because there was no reason to stay, and that’s true. But it’s not the only reason. I really didn’t trust myself around Vegeta. I wish I could say it was because I wanted to pummel him to a bloody pulp for what he did to me, to Bulma, but I can’t. It’s because I’m weak.

He still wanted me. I knew that. Bulma told me so herself. The first couple of times I saw him after everything he would stare at me with those eyes. Those eyes.

Do you know what he could say with just his eyes? Do you want to fuck? Let’s just go fuck. You don’t want to be here–you want to be with me. You want my mouth on yours, on your cock. You want me filling you up to you scream. Let’s do it. Come on, let’s go.

And he was right. I did. Despite everything, I did still want him, but not like that. Having him would mean being had, and I wanted more than that. I needed more than that.

So I avoided temptation by leaving. Other lovers came and went. I wish I could say I didn’t draw comparisons between Bulma and Vegeta and those that came after, but I can’t. I wish I could say their faces didn’t flash through my mind, their voices, when I’m with someone else.

I wish I wasn’t hard right now just from remembering. My traitorous hand moves to stroke the hardness through my clothes. I close my eyes remembering . . .

Gah!

I sit up furious with myself. I refuse to cum like that. I gave that up a long time ago. I scramble off the bed and head toward the beach, leaving my clothes in my wake. I crash into the surf, determined to wash any trace of that arousal from my mind and body. When I’m sure I’m back in control, I stumble back onto the beach, collapse onto the sand. The sun is low now, coloring the sky with orange and pink.

I hear Jeordie’s plane return. He comes running and screaming towards me, waving a trophy.

“I won, I won,” he screams and tackles me on the sand. “You were right. Dad was thrilled!” He sits back up on my stomach. “Dad sent you this and said to keep up the good work!” Jeordie holds up an envelope that no doubt contains money and grins. ”So what are you doing out here all naked on the beach?” he asks.

“I just went swimming.”

“Oh,” he says and he leans down and nibbles my neck. “So sensei, do you feel like celebrating my victory?”

I draw a slow breath. This is not what I want, not now. “What did you have in mind?”

His kisses my lips and his bottom slides back onto my hips. “Showing a certain sensei how grateful I am for his excellent teaching.”

I don’t respond to the kiss with my lips, but his hips have awakened what I tried so hard to lose in the surf. He feels my response and presses his hips closer.

“Is that a yes?” he asks.

I want to say no --- I do, but the urge to give in is too strong. A lift, a push and then I’m leading him back to the house.

I am too rough with him. Memories intrude, another time, another partner.

He doesn’t complain. In fact, I think he takes my forceful lovemaking as proof of my affection for him.

It’s time to move on. I think about the letter.

Forgive Vegeta.

I’d never really thought about it like that. I only thought about getting on with my life. Moving on. The thought tires me now. On to where?

Maybe Maali was right. Maybe something is holding me back.

And maybe it’s time to let go.

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Thank you for reading and please leave me a review and tell me what you thought. Chapter two will be posted soon, I promise.
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