Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Friends ❯ 18 - Mine ( Chapter 18 )

Friends - an AU Vegebul Highschool Fanfic by LadyVegeets

Ch.18 - Mine

Bulma woke up feeling warm and safe. She had to blink her eyes open a few times before she recalled where she was and who she was next to. She was still in bed at the hospital. Chi-Chi and Goku were gone, but Vegeta had returned and was lying next to her, one heavy, muscled arm draped protectively over her. She could smell soap and clean skin and could see that Vegeta had shaved and changed his clothes. His hair was still damp; he'd clearly come straight over from a shower, not even waiting for his hair to dry. At least he looked better than before, less tired and covered in blood, his brief respite having done wonders for him. He was sleeping soundly next to her, getting some much needed rest. Even in sleep his face looked serious, but his brow wasn't pulled into its usual scowl and it made Vegeta appear younger, more peaceful. Bulma smiled to herself and wriggled in closer against her sleeping protector.

Her eyes traveled down and she saw something familiar peeking out from Vegeta's back pocket. It looked like a phone; it was hers. Surprised, Bulma gently snuck her hand around and wriggled her phone free from Vegeta's jeans, trying not to wake him.

She checked her recent activity and found a few outgoing calls to her parents that she hadn't made. The first couple hadn't been answered, but the most recent call had lasted ten minutes. Bulma was amazed, impressed that Vegeta had thought to call her parents. She hoped they weren't too worried. Bulma slipped her phone back into Vegeta's pocket.

“It's not polite to snoop,” Vegeta mumbled sleepily, not even opening his eyes.

He startled Bulma so much she yelped. Did he always have to have the reflexes of a ninja? She glared at him. “It's my phone,” she countered haughtily.

“It's my ass you keep touching.”

Bulma stiffened, blushing. She saw the ghost of a smile tugging on his lips. “Jerk,” she murmured sourly.

Her petulance only made the smile on his lips grow wider. The arm he had draped over her shifted, and he slid his hand down the small of her back until he cupped her rump in his hand. “There. Now we're even.”

Bulma quickly turned tomato red, laying stiffly against Vegeta, her only thought being he was touching her butt. Vegeta was touching. Her. Butt. He tugged her in against his own body by her ass, and Bulma's traitorous mind replayed the memory of them making out on this very bed. She felt her heart start to pound so hard in her chest she was sure he would be able to hear it. Vegeta lay next to her as calm as you pleased, but Bulma felt like she was going to burst into flames.

“I don't think I can sleep like this,” she finally admitted. Sleep was, after all, the last thing she could think about with Vegeta grabbing her ass.

“Oh?” he purred, and cruelly started to massage a cheek.

Bulma sucked in a sharp breath as she felt herself react, a tremor of pleasure running down her spine, between her legs. She knew Vegeta felt it too, and he shifted to press his face into her hair.

“You're wound up pretty tight,” he murmured suggestively into her locks. “How long do you think it'd take me to finish you, just by doing this?” he asked, emphasizing his point by giving her ass another firm squeeze, his fingers slipping lower until they teased the edge of her panty line, headed in a very personal direction.

“Vegeta!” Bulma squealed, trembling, but she was solidly trapped against his solid front. “Someone could come in at any moment!”

She heard him laugh softly but his hand fell away and returned to her back, keeping her pulled snuggly against him. “You're too easy.”

Bulma scowled and hit his bicep, furious that he would tease her. He took the abuse without complain, still keeping a firm hold on her. She sagged, giving up. “You're such a dick. What ever happened to your father forbidding us, huh?”

Vegeta's smirk faded, his expression becoming more serious, thoughtful. He opened his eyes and looked at her, taking in her face before closing his eyes again. “I almost lost you,” he said, as if that explained everything.

It didn't. “And?” Bulma pressed impertinently.

“Tch. Go to sleep.”

“No,” Bulma insisted. “I deserve an explanation Vegeta. You can't keep toying with me like this, kissing me one day then shoving me away the next. What am I to you, what are we, what is this?”

Vegeta scowled. He was silent a while, thinking, gathering his thoughts. His hand tightened on her back possessively. His throat bobbed, and finally he came to a decision. “You're mine,” he admitted gruffly. “I won't let anything get in the way of that anymore.”

Bulma felt the air catch in her throat, and for a moment she thought she'd misheard him. But the weight of his confession sank in, filling her with a hope she'd dare not encouraged before. “D-does that mean, we can…?”

“Yeah.”

Bulma swallowed, and she fought to not let her emotions get the better of her. She pressed her face into his chest before she could ruin the moment with her tears, overwhelmed with relief and barely able to believe what was happening, what he was at last agreeing to. Finally, Vegeta was going to throw his father's rules to the wind and not let anything else come between them. All it took was for her to nearly die. Go figure.

She clung to him and he rubbed her back until they both fell into much needed sleep, clutching each other closely.

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The next morning they were awoken by a nurse bringing in breakfast. Bulma offered to share her meal with Vegeta, but he shook his head, insisting she eat. He claimed to have had his fair share of hospital food and didn't much care for it, but Bulma wasn't buying his excuses. Vegeta was always hungry. Still, he was determined not to take any of her food, so she ate what she could and only when she was going to throw out the leftovers did Vegeta help himself, claiming it would be a waste if she just put food in the trash. Bulma smiled as he ate, amused that he was putting her welfare before his bottomless stomach.

The doctor returned later to check her over once more, and after passing all his tests, Bulma was given the clear to return home. “Make sure you take it easy for the next week or so,” he insisted. He looked at Vegeta. “You should see she doesn't over exert herself, and refrain from any strenuous activity with your wife until she's healed.”

“Right,” Vegeta drawled, looking embarrassed, but not as embarrassed as Bulma who couldn't meet the doctor's gaze after his implication.

A nurse brought them a wheel chair and Vegeta took over, picking Bulma up and placing her in the chair before pushing her out of the hospital. Bulma was surprised to find a taxi waiting for them. It reminded her of the time Vegeta had refused a cab when he'd broken his ribs. Bulma gave him a questioning look, intrigued that he was now okay with getting a ride.

He didn't meet her eyes. “Your dad's paying for it,” he snapped back, as if that were explanation enough. Bulma smiled knowingly. Vegeta was cute when he was embarrassed.

When they returned to the house, Vegeta scooped her up out of the taxi and carried her up the front porch. The doorstep was littered with flowers and get-well gift baskets, all of which Vegeta ignored, stepping over them and taking her inside. He took her straight to the bathroom and placed her on the closed toilet lid. Already prepared on the counter were some of her clothes - pajama bottoms, a t-shirt and even clean underwear. She blushed and scowled at the thought of him digging about in her draws, but she couldn't really get that angry about it since he'd done so for her benefit. Then she watched as Vegeta turned on the shower.

“What are you doing?” she finally asked him.

“You should shower and change,” he said, pulling out a clean towel. Once the shower was steaming hot, he came over to her and looked at her assessingly. “Do you need help undressing?”

Bulma blushed and wrapped her arms over her chest. “Absolutely not.”

Vegeta smirked. “Hm, yell if you need anything.” And he walked out, shutting the bathroom door behind him. Alone at last, and not sure how she felt about that, Bulma shakily got to her feet and started undressing. Or at least, she tried to. Her bruised muscles had stiffened up from so much time lying in a bed and sleeping. She struggled to pull her top over her head, and only go so far as her shoulders before her arms couldn't go any further without the pain becoming unbearable. After struggling for five minutes, Bulma kicked the trash can in frustration.

“Everything okay in there?” Vegeta called from the other side of door. Embarrassed, Bulma realized that he must have stayed outside the door for her this whole time.

“Yes,” Bulma called back testily, then a moment later amended her statement with a pitiful, “No.”

“What's wrong?”

“I can't…” she started to say but trailed off, humiliated and vexed at her own uselessness.

“I'm coming in,” Vegeta announced and after a polite pause, the door opened. He gave her a quick glance over and instantly saw what the problem was. “Put your hands up,” he instructed her, coming over.

“If I could do that, I could undress myself,” she huffed, miffed that she needed his help for so simple a task.

Vegeta rethought his strategy. “Here then.” He helped lift her shirt off bit by bit, and with a bit of wriggling and manipulation, they managed to get the top off her, leaving her only in her bra. “Try wearing a button up next time,” he told her ruefully.

“I'll keep that in mind,” Bulma mumbled, not meeting his eyes as she hugged her chest, embarrassed to be so exposed in front of him. She felt shy, shier than usual, though she couldn't put her finger on why. She saw he was looking at her, but he was frowning. That certainly didn't help her confidence. “What?” she snapped at him.

Vegeta looked away, his expression solemn. “… Nothing.”

Bulma caught her reflection in the mirror, and balked, feeling as though she'd been punched in the gut. Her entire torso was one big, ugly, blotchy bruise. She looked like she'd stepped out of a horror show, gruesome makeup and all. She was pretty proud of her slender physique, but now she looked as if she was trying out for a zombie extra, all blotchy, rotting-colored flesh. This was not how she wanted Vegeta to see her naked! Bulma picked up her discarded top and tried to cover herself up with it, hiding her ugly body. “You can go now!” she said tersely, humiliated, her hands trembling. Was Vegeta disgusted with her? She wanted to cry.

Suddenly large, warm arms wrapped around her, tugging her in. Vegeta hugged her and pressed his mouth to her temple. “Looks like it hurts,” he mumbled sympathetically.

Bulma squeezed her eyes closed. “Please don't look, please. It's so ugly.”

“Hardly. They're badges of honor,” he said, his words surprising her. “You got your ass handed to you, but you got up, you survived. And you'll be stronger for it.”

Bulma listened raptly, unable to help thinking she was getting a small peek into Vegeta's psyche. Had he told himself as much whenever he'd received a beating? How many times had she seen him bruised and beaten? And she'd never thought he looked ugly because of it, she'd only pitied his pain and wanted to help him. Was Vegeta doing the same for her now? Bulma sighed and allowed Vegeta to comfort her. She nodded, and with a final squeeze he let her go.

“How about those?” Vegeta asked, indicating her pants.

Bulma shook her head. “I've got it from here, thanks.”

“Pity,” Vegeta said, giving her a small smirk.

Bulma scowled and shoved him away, trying not to smile. “Out.”

“I'll just be outside the door,” he reminded her with a lilting grin, and left again.

Bulma finished undressing and took her time in the hot shower, washing her body and hair until she was squeaky clean, the hot water doing wonders for her stiff muscles. When she stepped out and slipped on her clean clothes, she felt a whole lot better, her nerves and doubts having washed away with the water down the drain. Vegeta was waiting for her when she stepped out. His eyes gave her a once over, then flicked to her hand, noting the ring she still wore on her finger. Neither of them said anything about it, but she thought she saw the hint of approval on his face.

They spent the rest of the day on the couch, watching movies and playing games together, taking it easy for Bulma's sake. Vegeta raided the fridge for snacks and food, as well as getting the gift baskets from the front porch which they sampled together and read all the messages, Vegeta making fun of the more sappy ones. When that wasn't enough food, he ordered delivery. It was one of the most relaxing and pressure free days Bulma had enjoyed in a long while, and it was remarkable to think she could enjoy it with Vegeta without any arguments.

When they were on their third movie, Bulma felt a weight on her shoulder. She looked and saw Vegeta had nodded off, his head falling to the side to rest against her. She smiled, endeared, knowing Vegeta was exhausted from taking care of her, first in the hills, then at the hospital, and now today. Scratch had also taken advantage of Vegeta's exhaustion, and curled up in the boy's lap, making for quite the cute picture. Bulma let her own head rest against Vegeta's with a smile, allowing herself to feel content. She didn't remember how the movie ended, falling asleep against Vegeta before it finished.

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Her alarm blared. Bulma groaned and snuggled down further in her blankets. Blankets… she frowned, not recalling how she'd gotten from the couch to her bed. She peeked and saw Vegeta was next to her, Scratch asleep at the foot of the bed. Vegeta must have woken and carried her to bed during the night. She heard a groan emanate from the muscular young man beside her; Vegeta was on his stomach, his head turned away. As the alarm continued to blare he pulled his pillow over his head.

“Can you end that infernal sound?!” he grumbled.

Bulma smiled and hit the snooze on her alarm.

Vegeta mumbled something incomprehensible, falling back asleep. Daring to be brave, Bulma reached out and ran her hand over his back, delighting at the feel of his supple flesh and muscles under her fingertips. Vegeta sighed, sinking further into the bed, soothed by her touch. She smiled and pressed herself against his side, cuddling up close. He responded by turning around to face her, pulling her in tight. Bulma grinned, elated. She could have stayed curled up with him forever, and she felt herself drifting off when the alarm started blaring again.

Vegeta tensed, growling. “Turn it off.”

“What about school?” she protested.

“In your condition?”

“Did you skip school when you were bruised up?” Bulma asked.

Vegeta scoffed. “I've had years of practice, and I'm a lot stronger than you are. People expect a guy to have some bruises now and then.”

That had been the wrong thing for him to say. Bulma felt her stubborn pride prickle. “Oh, so I can't have bruises because I'm a girl?”

Vegeta hesitated, seeming to realize his mistake. “That's… That's not what I-”

Bulma pushed up and got out of bed, ignoring the aches and pains of her body. “I'm getting ready for school,” she announced willfully, and started to look through her closet for an outfit that she could slip on without too much hassle.

Vegeta sat up in her bed, sighing, watching her move about. He didn't say anything, but he didn't look happy about her getting ready to go. Bulma ignored his stare and took her clothes into the bathroom to shower and change. It took longer than usual with her injuries, and by the time she came out, Vegeta has left her room. She found him downstairs in the kitchen serving up cereal for two. He looked clean, having used one of the other bathrooms to shower. In fact, he was looking more than clean, he was looking good, wearing a t-shirt that actually fit his physique and pants that weren't as loose as usual. Bulma had to struggle not to drink in the sight of him. She noticed he looked her over as well. He noted that the white t-shirt she wore only highlighted rather than hid the dark bruises on her skin, but if he had any opinions on her outfit, he kept them to himself. They ate breakfast in comfortable silence, and when the time came, Vegeta took both of their bags over his shoulder and lead them out the door.

When the stepped onto the street, Vegeta took her hand, his fingers warm as they wrapped around hers. Bulma's heart fluttered. It wasn't the first time Vegeta had taken her hand, but before he'd only done so out of necessity, to drag her off somewhere or ease her fears. Now, it seemed to mean something else. He was holding her hand because he could, because she was his.

You're mine, he'd told her. Bulma blushed and looked down as they walked to school. “You know,” she said, breaking the silence. “I never thanked you for saving me.”

He glanced at her, then away. “When?”

“When I fell, dummy. Chi-Chi and Goku told me what happened, that you risked your life to climb down to me and didn't leave my side until help arrived.”

He scowled. “Well… someone had to get your sorry ass. You're lucky not to be dead.” His hand squeezed a little tighter about hers as if worried she would still up and die on him.

Bulma squeezed it back. “Mmm. And perhaps it was my imagination, but… I think I remember you talking to me,” she said, hazy memories of Vegeta pleading with her not to die floating in her mind like a half-forgotten dream. She looked at him and he was scowling hard, his cheeks reddening, avoiding her gaze. Bulma smiled gently, her suspicions confirmed, and she nudged his side. “It helped.”

“Tch.”

“Thanks, Vegeta.”

He looked away helplessly, not knowing how to handle her gratitude. “Cut that out. You're distracting me.”

“From what? Walking?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, I didn't realize it took all your brain capacity to focus on one task at a time,” she said wryly, enjoying her chance to be teasing him.

He looked over at her, irritated at first, but then his expression changed. He gave her a wicked smirk, and Bulma knew she was in trouble. “Just wait until I use my single-minded focus on you, then we'll see if you're complaining.”

Bulma nearly tripped over her own feet, and Vegeta laughed cruelly as she turned bright pink. “You're such a prick.”

He suddenly stopped walking and pulled her in hard. Before she could yell at him for the abrupt stop, Vegeta grabbed her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. It was hard and hot, his tongue rubbing sensually over hers.

Bulma trembled against him, feeling her knees go weak.

Just as suddenly as it started, he broke the kiss. He took her hand and continued the walk to school. Bulma struggled to follow after him, her mind fritzing like a wet circuit board. Damn him, she thought, knowing he'd successfully shut her up and also tipped the balance of power back to his favor. She would have fumed if she was capable of thinking beyond how great of a kisser he was.

When they approached their school, she expected Vegeta to let her hand go and shove her bag into her stomach, but he didn't. He strutted through the school entrance with her hand in hand, as cool as you please. Bulma could feel the stares of other students, not only because she and Vegeta held hands, but also for all the bruises she wore. Whispers followed them and Bulma figured they'd be the talk of the school by lunch time.

She wasn't wrong. When the lunch bell rang, the whole school was whispering and staring at them. Bulma grabbed a tray of food, Vegeta at her side, and they sat down with the MMA crew. Bulma felt herself getting red as even her friends stared at her, though they tried to hide it behind congratulations for her recovery and hugs. Bulma was glad to see Chiaotzu was there, looking well, his run in with bad berries leaving him none the worse for wear. Bulma could see everyone was dying to know about her and Vegeta, but with his surly presence right at their table, no one dared to ask.

No one except Chi-Chi. “My, Bulma, that's a lovely ring,” Chi-Chi remarked mischievously. “Is it new?”

Bulma threw Chi-Chi a glare, but her friend just smiled back at her wickedly.

“I gave it to her,” Vegeta said nonchalantly.

Everyone fell into a stunned silence, even Chi-Chi, not having expected Vegeta to be so blatant. Bulma blushed harder and ducked her head, playing with her food.

Chi-Chi quickly recovered and beamed at Vegeta. “Oh, it's beautiful, Vegeta. You have good taste. I should send Goku to you for tips on buying gifts for his girlfriend.”

“Chi-Chi,” Bulma hissed and she tried to kick her under the table, unamused by Chi-Chi's unsubtle inference that Bulma was Vegeta's girlfriend. Even Bulma wasn't sure she was ready to label their relationship in such a way, it was far too new and untested. You're mine he'd said. That was more than enough for her.

“No,” Vegeta replied bluntly, putting an end to that conversation.

“Well, you'll have to teach us how to boulder!” Goku declared, slapping Vegeta on the shoulder. “The way you handled that cliff face to reach Bulma was incredible!”

The other guys chipped in with words of praise for Vegeta's heroism. Even Yamcha kept quiet, not denying the amazing feat Vegeta had done to save Bulma. Yamcha looked guilty, remorseful for the trouble he'd tried to stir up at the camp.

Vegeta was surprised the others were suddenly talking to him so much. Until recently, the group had only been tolerating his presence, but now they were accepting him as one of their own. Bulma felt a smile form on her face, her chest tightening in affection for her friends and for Vegeta. It would be nice for him to have friends outside of her, and it would only go to help her plan in showing Vegeta the good the world could offer.

The boys continued to hound Vegeta for rock climbing tips until he was finally forced to promise that he'd go bouldering with them one day. At the end of lunch Vegeta gave Bulma his dessert and even cleared her tray.

After classes they had practice. Bulma was worried what Coach Piccolo was going to say about her running off and falling down a cliff, but he came over to her and personally apologized, asking after her welfare and hoped her parents hadn't been too alarmed by her accident.

“She's fine, and the Briefs are glad she's okay,” Vegeta answered for her. When the coach gave Vegeta a surprised look, Bulma just smiled, shrugged, and agreed with him. She apologized for causing everyone such a fright. Piccolo accepted, perhaps just glad he wasn't getting sued, and that was the end of the whole camping debacle.

Training ensued. They started with warm up exercises, and Bulma finally allowed herself to watch Vegeta without any pretenses of studying or texting. The group was doing push ups, all of them in excellent form, but Vegeta was exceptional, his body perfectly straight and his arms easily pushing himself up and down with powerful, liquid ease. He glanced up and saw she was staring. Bulma smiled, not looking away, and neither did he. Keeping her eye contact, Vegeta grinned and switched over to his right hand, his left resting at his back as he continued to push himself up and down, over and over on one arm, showing off for her. Bulma laughed and felt herself growing flushed, an animalistic part of her greatly impressed at his display of strength.

“Stop showing off, Saiyan,” Piccolo snapped. Vegeta rolled his eyes and dropped his left arm, falling back into two-handed rhythm with everyone else. Shortly after the coach blew his whistle and everyone switched to sit ups. Vegeta positioned himself to look at her each time he sat up, his body starting to sheen with sweat, his mouth panting for air, his dark eyes only on her as he levered up each time. Despite the distance and the others in the gym, the whole scene felt intoxicating, intimate, and Bulma was grateful when Piccolo called for laps and Vegeta had to break their gaze because she wasn't sure she could take any more eye-fucking for one day.

After practice Vegeta walked her home, holding her hand and her bag. He'd been so kind to her all day, clearly worried about her injuries. He walked her all the way up to her bedroom but then stopped, setting her bag by the door. “I'm going to train,” he said. Bulma pouted but nodded. Protesting would only cause an argument, and now she knew how important it was for him to get stronger. Vegeta left for the gym and Bulma decided to make a big dinner for them both. She cooked and served the food, setting a plate for Vegeta, and waited. After her long day, and still feeling the effects of her fall, Bulma soon fell asleep at the kitchen counter waiting for Vegeta to finish.

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“This is becoming a habit,” he grumbled as he scooped her up.

Bulma clung sleepily to Vegeta as he carried her upstairs. “Nn… I made dinner,” she said, only half awake.

“I already ate it.”

“You did? How was it?”

“Cold.”

“Oh…”

Bulma drifted on the edge of sleep as Vegeta carried her to bed. She smiled happily when she felt him climb in with her, spooning her, putting his hand on her belly. He settled in, but Bulma didn't succumb to sleep yet. “No kiss?” she asked.

“No.”

“Why not?” she whined, pressing herself back against him, wriggling her hips against his.

Vegeta grabbed her hip, stilling her. “Don't start that,” he growled at her warningly.

Bulma pouted. “Spoil sport.”

He huffed. Bulma jumped when she felt teeth gently bite her neck, his fingers curling on her hip. She shuddered in pleasure. His mouth moved to her ear. “You need to rest. I need you in top shape for what I've got in store for you, Briefs. Get your sleep now while you can.”

Bulma bit back a moan and let out a pent up sigh when Vegeta moved away and settled in to sleep. If Vegeta was going to keep this up, the next few days of her recovery were going to be the worst torture of her life.

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AN: if you're on a computer or use the computer mode on your phone, you can see I've added cover art for this story on FFnet. It's by GalacticShark17 - it's not finished yet, but I couldn't wait to put up what I had so far, and I'll update it when the art is complete ^_^ Go to twitter for more of his stuff.

I recently wrote a piece of Vegebul for Stupidoomdoodle's AU, called `Girl Next Door'. Check it out if you like her comics.

Hmmm.. I felt like I had more to say, but words elude me. As always, I'll try to have the next chapter up in 3-4 days time! Oh, hmm, is that lemon I smell…?