Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Ningen or nekojin? ❯ Chapter five ( Chapter 5 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Ningen or nekojin?
 
By The Chichi Slaughter House
 
This was inspired by a doujinshi that one of my friends sent me and I really enjoyed it, even having ideas for a fic. Neko Vegeta's are my new obsession, so I don't want any flames about `OMG, are you sick?? Vegeta is a cat!', because he won't ever truly be a cat in my fics. I'm not a fan of animal sex.
 
Warnings: Uhh…let's see…Vegeta as uke, Goku pov, lemon, romanticishness, swearing maybe and anything else my twisted mind wants to come up with.
 
Disclaimer: Ugh! I can't believe I forgot to put this in! Bad Slaughter, bad! (cough)
I do not own DBZ, because, sadly, I am not rich. But if I did… (evil laugh) there'd be no more seme Vegeta stuff, because I'd put everyone straight! (shakes fist) ((Don't be offended by this if you support seme Vegeta, this is merely me being an idiot. Thank you.)) The `put your socks on' is not mine, it is © GogetaJr, I just borrowed it(with permission) because it's funny! I also don't own the Flora Company, or the Pussycat dolls, although that'd be nice… (rubs chin) I don't own the Resolve Company either, though I do have a box of them in my cupboard, lol.
 
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Chapter five:
 
His fingers trace my lips, as he gives me an encouraging look, the other hand gently moving down my body, making me gasp, trembling, unable to stop myself becoming aroused, my eyes wide. This is just happening too fast…we can't have sex now…I don't deserve it…I'm not ready for this… I gasp again as his hand starts to move under my towel, too close for comfort. My hand moves and grabs his wrist just before he can touch me, his other hand resting on my cheek, his expression one of confusion as I move his hand away, my cheeks a dark shade, unable to fight this incredibly nervous knot in my stomach and make it go away, somehow feeling that I owe him more than this, that he deserves more than a quick bout of sex to prove my feelings towards him. My eyes lock with his, and I think he can see exactly what I am thinking through them, his hand on my cheek caressing it gently, as if saying he doesn't mind, and that as long as I don't push him away, he will be happy.
 
“I love you too much to do that…” I say, trying not to be shy of the words because of their importance, my hands both coming together to hold the one I am already grasping, bringing it o my lips to kiss over, feeling him making a gentle noise of enjoyment and continuing to kiss over his palm and up his arm, his other hand slipping from my cheek as I sit up, kissing and nipping at his shoulder. I can feel his body shivering over mine, and I cannot help but love the way it feels as I move my lips to his neck, his hands finding their way around my biceps as I trail my lips over his chin and to his mouth.
 
We kiss for a short time, his tail moving to wind around my forearm to encourage me as I feel myself growing more passionate, my control slipping as I stroke up his back, pulling away and panting lightly to calm myself. His cheeks are as flushed as mine are, and I can tell from the glittering in his eyes that he is satisfied with my answer, though I'm not quite sure if he thinks I am saying that I love him too much to deny, or whether he knows I mean to have sex with him right now. I open my mouth to ask, but he presses his finger to my lips.
 
“I know what you mean.” He says softly, his voice seeming as shy as mine is as he just leans down and rests his head on my chest, his hands on it also, helping me to relax and stroke his hair as I lie back, looking at the ceiling. This feels kind of nice, like the afterglow of some really good sex without actually having had any. My hand gently massages his back, and I can almost feel him smile against my skin at the loving contact. I'm acting as if this is so familiar to me, like we've been lovers for years, already knowing where all the sensitive spots on his back are from stroking it so much and washing him. I already know where he likes to be touched, and where is forbidden, although… I look at his tail and resist the urge to stroke it as well. I've touched it once before…just once, when I unwound it from my leg, and the fur was so soft, so smooth, so addicting… I want to touch it again, I want to ruffle it and stroke every part, find where all the sensitive parts on it are and manipulate them so I can make him gasp and whimper…
 
“Can I…touch your tail?” I ask, my voice quiet and low, hopefully low enough that he will not really hear me, or can just ignore the request if he doesn't want me to. In response, I feel him tense a little, before he tilts his head to look at me properly, his tail waving behind him lightly, irresistible to my eyes. I love the beautiful russet hues in it and the way it moves…so sleek and smooth, snake-like, even, but so bewitching… As I look at it, I am reminded of the fact he is a clone, and I cannot help but tense up a bit too, still waiting for his response to my needy question. Does he know…? Maybe he does. I think back to my father's journals, a line repeating itself to me.
 
`I think it will have all of his memories up to the point of taking the DNA…'
 
“Y-Yes…if only for a minute…” Vegeta finally replies, his cheeks a bit red. I am unsure whether it is because his tail is very sensitive or not, or whether it was because I asked if I could, or maybe he just doesn't feel ready for me to touch it yet, but I have his permission to. Maybe I should, or maybe I shouldn't… My hand has reached out anyway, barely a centimetre from the soft-looking fur and I cannot help myself as I gently grasp it, the fur tickling my palm as I stroke it from near the end to the tip, feeling Vegeta quiver against me and rest a heated cheek to my chest. I open my hand and just brush it down to the base and I feel him tense up and tremble violently, knowing I should stop there, but not wanting to. I lightly massage the base and he cries out, gripping at my arms. “Stop, now, please!” I stop massaging, but leave my hand closed around the base gently, making him seem to tremble more. “U-Unless you intend to go further than a little kiss…stop…” I move my hand away and wrap my arm around his back, cuddling him closer in appreciation for letting me touch him there at all.
 
“Okay…thank you…” I whisper, my face close to his ear, making him shiver more, before I realise just how seductive I am acting and squirm a little to try and stop it. My voice is still low, and from what I've noticed…his tail is extremely sensitive, so petting it and whispering into his ear… My cheeks go pink. I wasn't meaning to come onto him like that, and as he lifts his face to look at mine, I can see in his eyes that he knows I wasn't trying to, but the realisation probably doesn't help him as I feel something against my thigh, knowing exactly what it is and going red. “Ah…um…” I fumble around my mind for a distraction and come to what he remembers of his life, already curious of what he knows…if he remembers anything, that is. “So…how did you learn to talk again?” I ask, deciding to start small and build up to the clone thing.
 
“What makes you think I could already talk?” He asks me, his eyebrow raised, making me nervous even though I know from the tone of his voice that he is merely playing with me. At my silence, he seems to just assume that I didn't and continues. “Well, after hearing so much speech for a long time, I just knew that I could speak it too…after all, we aren't so different, are we?” I keep my mouth shut. “I am sure that it was that girl you dated…hearing a woman's voice made me want to be able to talk too…as she…” He looks away. “…As you liked her and she could talk…I mean…” He tried to explain, his voice barely higher than a whisper. However, something nags at me.
 
“But Chichi could talk too…and you never tried to talk then…” I say, my eyes fixed on his face - even in profile, he is beautiful. “And I liked her.” He looks at me calmly.
 
“I assumed you loved her, seeing as she was your wife.” Guilt crashes over me in waves. Yes, I thought I loved her at one point… “So, instead…I…tried to get rid of her.” My eyes widen slightly at the explanation. Why he attacked her…and glared at her…and crawled into our bed…
 
“You were jealous of her?” I say, before I can stop myself, then cover my mouth with my hand, looking sideways at him, unsure of whether he will be angry or not. But his expression is one of amusement, and he moves my hand away, giving me a quick peck on the lips and laughing lightly. I'm not sure if I'm reassured though. After all, he is laughing at me…
 
“I just didn't like her at the time.” He informs me, an amused smirk on his face as he leans forward as if to kiss me again. “Her voice annoyed me and she never did anything but yell at you.” His eyes glitter. “And I liked you, you were nice to me and didn't say cruel things about me.” I look down, feeing stupid for assuming something so bizarre, but his hands lift my chin. “Maybe I was a bit jealous too.” This little confession makes me smile as he nuzzles my neck, somehow knowing that I'm not quite reassured of the situation at hand. “So I forced myself to talk properly because I assumed that was what you wanted.” I look at him quietly, truly unsure of what he knows now. He's making it seem like he's done all this for me, and for no one else…
 
“W-What about coming into my room…why did you…?” I ask, unable to hold my tongue and refrain from asking so many questions, just wondering if he did that for me too, or whether it was for himself that he chose to try and seduce me.
 
“I came into your room that night…because I saw you had chosen me over her, and I thought you wanted me, which you clearly showed…before you kicked me out, that is.” He said quietly, a look of pain in his beautiful sable eyes as he said the last part, another pang of guilt flaring through my heart. For me, again. “Though I had…desired to sleep with you long before…” He admits, his cheeks darker than usual. “I liked it, just the two of us, and I had thought that if we become lovers…I wouldn't have to worry about you bringing more women here…” He looks up at me, into my eyes. “But there's been a woman in here since then.” It's somehow turned into him questioning me now… He grabs my injured arm by accident, probably thinking the bandage is some sort of clothing add-on and I wince, trying to get it out of his oddly strong grip.
 
“Oww! Let go! Please!” I yelp, and he lets go quickly, looking confused as I flinch and lightly rub the bandage, biting my lip harshly. Holy fuck, that hurts. I try to get my arm away from him, but he grabs it again, this time grabbing my bicep, determined to see what it is. “…Please don't look at it…” I say weakly, ashamed of it and how I acted, not stopping him as he starts to unravel the bandage, looking away and saying nothing, the shame eating me alive as I hear his horrified gasp.
 
“…Kakarott…did you-?” He stops mid-sentence, obviously unable to finish it as he just stares at my wound, not even needing me to answer him. He knows what it is, he knows what I did…he should know why… I am not going to reply to him about this. I can't. My own weakness is so pathetic and degrading…please Vegeta…don't talk about it… “…You tried to kill yourself.” He says, his voice cold, confirming it to himself. “Did you not care about me??” He slaps me across the face, and my head snaps to the side as I flinch more, trying not to tremble from the anger radiating from him. He doesn't know how tough this has been for me as well… “How was killing yourself going to make everything okay??” He yells, just making me feel worse than before, my eyes closed in shame.
 
“I-I realised I loved you, and you loved me…and that I didn't deserve you…” I whisper softly, a single tear emerging from under my eyelid to run down my cheek, and I know he is staring at me; I can practically feel his gaze on my face. Suddenly, I feel him lick the tear away and open my teary eyes, wiping at them to see him clearly. There is a look of sadness on his face, genuine hurt, but I don't know what to think. He hit me and yelled at me for being that upset because he locked himself away from me for so long. “You didn't seem like you were ever going to leave, you didn't even seem to care!” I say coldly, trying not to hurt him more, but feeling so hurt myself that I cannot help it. “I thought you wouldn't want to see me again, because I hurt you so badly.” I'm trying to stay strong here; I know I should apologise to him for doing it, but he should apologise for slapping me first. His hands grab my face and he kisses me furiously, his tongue pushing through my lips as I just sit there, dumbfoundedly kissing back.
 
“I-I'm sorry Kakarott…” He whispers after he has pulled back, kissing over my neck softly, causing me to shiver at his affectionateness, my hands lightly holding his waist, my wrist throbbing in pain as it comes into contact with his clothes. He notices me wince and lets go, gently moving my hand away. “Where is the first aid kit?” I pause.
 
“Under the sink?” I guess, not even knowing if I have one, yet knowing that Bulma had to have bandaged my wrist somehow, watching him as he got up from the sofa and sauntered over to the sink. I can't call it `walking' because of the way his hips are moving, so sleekly and seductively swaying as he bends down, his tail lifting and fluffing and his ass… My entire face is blazing red when he finally gets back, and as he cleans and rebandages my arm, there is a little smile on his face, making me think he did it on purpose as his eyes flick down to my towel occasionally, his cheeks going pink. Crap. I blush darker and smile goofily as I try not to look, knowing what is down there, coughing quietly to myself until I am bandaged again. “T-Thanks…” He nods and stands, obviously going to put it back, but I fear that I won't be able to control myself if I see that again and grasp his wrist, pulling him back onto the sofa with me.
 
“Kakarott!” He gasps as I pull him down, the worst possible place for him to end up sitting being where his firm ass lands, my face turning into a beacon as he gets the wrong idea and looks over his shoulder at me, his face scarlet. “I, um, see you want…uh…” My face feels like it is burning, and I close my eyes, letting go of his hand, trying not to concentrate on the warm pressure against my arousal and swallow.
 
“I-I just want to cuddle!” I exclaim, mortified at my bad luck. This can't be a good sign if it's happening already…something even worse might happen before this relationship starts properly… I know that Vegeta is as embarrassed as I am, and I feel him turn around and move to lie on my chest, his legs against the sofa, safely. I feel like an idiotic teenager having his first erection around a girl and I can't help but feel embarrassed. We both actually want to have sex, but I'm holding back. Technically, Vegeta is only four years old… I shudder at the information and look at his upsweep of hair, biting my lip. “…How old are you, Vegeta?” There's an awkward silence, before he finally answers me.
 
“…Twenty-seven.” It's understandable that he's older than me. I mean, he was a professional scientist when I was eighteen, so he had at least have had to have been in his early or mid-twenties by then. I think about our age difference for a little while, letting the silence hang in the air, then look back down at him, seeing him looking at my face. His eyes meet mine. “I don't know your age.” I smile nervously.
 
“I'm twenty-two.” There's a look of shock on his face as he looks over me a few more times, making me feel nervous and edgy before he looks back at my face.
 
“I was almost certain you were twenty-five at least…” He says quietly, obviously unnerved by his small misjudgement. I feel sad for him then, because it's not a huge age difference, but it is like a fifth of my life has suddenly disappeared, and it seems huge because of that. I gently take his hand in mine.
 
“Does it really matter?” His dark orbs look up at me and I try a smile, but he doesn't smile back, looking blank. “It's only five years, it's not such a big difference…right?” I get no response and become worried. “Vegeta?”
 
“And you have no job?” He cuts in, ignoring my questions pointedly, his eyes seeming somehow cold. I'm not sure how to reply…he should know that I have no job by now…he's been living with me long enough to know… “Where does your money to pay for bills come from? How have we been living??” I really don't like that he is questioning me so much on this…it's making me incredibly nervous as I sit up, looking at the television, though it is turned off at the moment.
 
“I live off the money I inherited from my father's funeral.” I say quietly, not wanting to say any more on the subject, hoping my tone says enough to him to make him stop questioning me like this. I should start questioning him back, but I don't want there to be a possibility of another argument with him, and somehow, I feel he should need to know how we've been living for so long. He gives me a look that says to say more and I sigh, continuing. “In his will, I also got his company. But the problem was that it was failing.” He seems to look more interested and sits closer to me, looking cute even though I know he is about to ask more questions that will upset me. But appearances are deceiving. “So I sold it to my oldest friend, Bulma, who was here a few days ago; the woman that looked after me when…” I fall silent for a moment, and he rests his hand on my uninjured arm, gently squeezing comfortingly, and, funnily enough, it helps. “With her help, it's now the biggest company around, worth billions.”
 
“What company is it?” He asks, seeming even more interested than before, and I know now that what I am about to say will shock him. After all, he did work there…he died there, and was born there too.
 
“Capsule Corp.” I say simply, turning my full attention to him as his face pales somewhat. “Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.” I gently pull him onto my lap and stroke his hair with care, knowing he is confused, his body shaking, making me pull him closer protectively.
 
“B-Bardock's…dead?” His voice is so quiet as he grabs at my hands, trembling more. I think he is about to faint, his expression worrying me, so I pull his face to mine and kiss him, pushing air into his lungs, which he chokes out, pulling away from me in shock. “Y-You're his son??” I nod quietly, resting my chin in my hand as he trembles, standing on the carpet by himself. I give him a few moments to calm down and sigh lightly.
 
“I know that you used to work with him.” He tenses visibly and his tail fluffs up madly, the look in his eyes telling me that he is about to run away as I get to my feet and grasp his arms. “Vegeta, I know about the experiments, I know about the capsulation…I know…about you…and I love you…” I pull him to my chest, giving him no way to escape and breathe in the scent of his hair. “Everything's okay.”
 
“W-What about Vegeta?” He whispers quietly, his arms clutching at my waist. I need to tell him the full truth.
 
“He died in the experiment you were created for.” I tighten my arms around him as I say it, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. I'm secretly glad he was impatient…because it made 'Geta able to live… He feels heavier in my arms.
 
“I think I'm going to throw up.” He whimpers, his voice so low I could barely hear him say it at all. Lovingly, I pick him up and begin to carry him to the bathroom just in case.
 
He may need to rest after this…