Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Ningen or nekojin? ❯ Chapter six ( Chapter 6 )

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 six:

 

I watch 'Geta sleeping on my double bed from the side, my heart pounding in my chest as I see how pale he looks compared to a few minutes ago and it truly makes me wonder if I should have kept my mouth shut. I should have known he wasn't ready to know that I knew, and I should have waited til much later when our relationship would have been more stable to even begin hinting at it. It's clear that the subject was already a sensitive one with him before I told him… His expression twists into one of fear as he starts thrashing on my bed and I cannot help but grab his arms and shake him awake, even though I know he needs the rest after throwing up so badly.

 

“'Geta!!” I yell, pulling him from the sheets and into my arms, nuzzling his neck when I see his eyes open, relieved that he is awake again. “Are you alright?” I ask, stroking his cheek softly as his dark eyes just look into mine, feeling unnerved and unsettled as he merely nods at me, trying to break away, his tail fluffed up, but I don't know why. “Please…what's wrong?” My hands pull him even closer, despite the look of protest on his face, but he doesn't say a word, still pushing me, trying to make me let go. Fear grips my heart at his silence as much as his reluctance to be near me and I desperately cling to him, not wanting to let go of him until I know that everything is okay. “Talk to me!” I demand, pulling him closer, then pinning him on the bed, my mind barely registering that this is an arousing position for me as I restrain his hands together over his head and trap his legs under mine. However, it is obvious to me that he has noticed, a look of anger and embarrassment on his once gentle and happy features, making me want to bear my teeth at him. “Talk.”

 

“What am I meant to say??” He hisses, squirming violently before I let go and sit back, giving him his space to do whatever he wants, only having wanted him to speak to me, having previously lost my towel somewhere along the way and having no other clothes on. I frown to myself as he doesn't move from the position I had him in, staying still, his eyes now much calmer though it could be fear keeping him there. I try to think of what it is he could say to me, before I spot that he is aroused also, the lycra shorts he is wearing not hiding it at all, much like my state of undress. His eyes look over me and I feel oddly scrutinised as his tail fluffs up again and he moves his eyes to gaze upon my face, our gazes locked.

 

“I'm only worried about you…” I say, saddened by his sudden mistrust of me - or that is how it feels - as I gently move off my bed and go to wardrobe to pick something to wear, to stop him thinking I am about to jump him, if nothing else. I look through all my t-shirts quietly, hearing him moving around behind me, choosing to look for boxers instead, about to move to my draws and crouch down when I feel his hands on my torso, his chest pressed against my back - horrifyingly arousingly - his tail coiling my thigh again, making me swallow softly, nervous as he nuzzles my shoulder, being too short to rest his head on my shoulder like I somehow feel that he planned to. I look back at him to see my bed made neatly and his shirt on the floor, noticing that it has a rather disgusting sick stain on it from when he was throwing up earlier, then at his face to see him looking playful, yet happily at me, giving me a feeling of hope again as he starts licking at my shoulder, my body tensing up. “Vegeta?”

 

“Mmm…Kakarott…” He purrs softly, pressing up against my back even more, stroking over my chest with soft touches, causing me to swallow loudly as I realise that I hadn't even tried to pull away from him yet. What is it about him that makes me lose control? I turn in his grasp and grin at him, my hands grabbing his firm ass as I lift him off the floor and crush our lips together heatedly, feeling his hands grasping at my chest, unable to grab a hold on any part of me, his tongue pushing hard against mine as I stagger to the bed and drop onto it, pinning him under me again. He pulls back from my lips and lets out a soft moan as I begin to attack his neck in kisses and nips, my name just sounding so good on his tongue. “Kakarott…uhn…” My erection throbs with want as I look upon his gorgeous body, wanting to kiss every inch of his perfect tan skin, but restraining myself, my cheeks red from my seemingly never-ending lack of control around him. I really wish I knew what it was about him that made me lose my self-control…but I guess I never will…

 

“Are you hungry?” I ask, moving back over to get dressed properly, trying to ignore just how irresistible he is and focus on something else, as it isn't even three in the afternoon and there is still a lot we need to talk about. I hear him sit up, and I can practically taste his anger at me leaving him there so abruptly, so I turn to him and smile gently, pulling on my boxers. All I get is a cold sort of look, and he moves over, grabbing my wrists, aggravating my knife-wound horribly as he leans forward, trying to kiss me again. But this time, I actually manage to control myself, and grit my teeth at the pain as I twist my arms to grasp his, gently moving him away. “I'm not ready…”

 

He sighs, but doesn't push me further as I continue to get dressed, feeling like I am safer around him when I am clothed, only to turn around to find him gone, and his soiled shirt missing from my floor, sighing gently myself as I move from my bedroom, looking for him. I will probably get the cold shoulder for a little while, but I really am not ready…I mean, sex…well…it's rather, uh, nice, but I don't want to just have sex with him. I don't think he knows just how much I care for him, and that hurts me. He needs to know…

 

I spot him laying on the sofa, completely naked, the soft flesh making my eyes widen as I look at him, my cheeks flushing at the look of confidence on his face. He just doesn't seem to care either… Dammit, what does a guy have to do to not get laid?! I walk over and drink in the view, knowing he is watching my face for any indication of desire, probably so that he can take advantage of it and get what he wants from me, but I will not let him.

 

“Like what you see?” He purrs, making me grin lopsidedly and nod gently, him beckoning me over with his index finger, my eyes darkening with lust as I move to crouch next to the settee, our faces level as he pulls me into a hot kiss, his tongue licking at my lips shyly, even though he is the one who initiated this. I rest my hand on the curve of his hips and press closer to him, his hands grabbing my shirt and using it as leverage to pull me even closer, moaning into my mouth softly. Damn, I'm going to just grab him and pull him onto my lap in a minute… I pull back, panting, his flushed face under mine making me feel guilty as he looks lustily at me, hope and desire showing in his gaze as his hand strokes my cheek. “When will you be ready?” My cheeks flare a dark red.

 

“I don't know…” I say, looking down apologetically. The thing is; I think I'm ready now, but I don't think we should… “Soon…maybe…” He looks up at me, then sits up, stroking my cheek even more, moving a pillow to cover his nakedness, a part of me disappointed and saddened by that. “I think we need to talk more…that's all…” Blinking, he moves so that we can both sit on the sofa together, and I sit next to him, smiling. “…So…why did you become a scientist anyway…? You don't, ah, seem very sciency…” Laughing softly, he cuddles up to my chest.

 

“Well…my father was a scientist too…you may have heard of him. They used to call him `King Vegeta' sometimes…” 'Geta says, his voice soft as he remembers. “He always told me that I should make him proud, he always told me to become the best scientist in the world so I could be rich and happy.” He looks at me and I nod, urging him to continue. “So I did it…but it didn't so much make me happy when everybody at Capsule Corp wasn't being ambitious enough. `Let's capsulate groceries!' `Let's capsulate clothes shopping!' Yes, good ideas, but just not bold enough to make the company the best! If another company figured out the capsules, then they would capsulate bigger things to take our market!” I could see just from this small bit of information how passionate he was about science, and somehow, I could almost feel it. He looked at me quietly. “So now you know.”

 

I nod and hug him closer, quite happy to rest my hands on his back and stroke down to the curve of his ass, his gasp into my ear causing me to shudder, pulling back to look him in the eyes. He is so beautiful, his brown eyes seeming to enchant me as I lean forward, brushing our lips together, his hands grabbing at me nervously, the pillow being knocked from his lap and onto the floor. I can feel him trembling next to me and can't help but press our lips together, pulling him onto my lap as I touch him, loving the feeling of a mouth panting into mine. I'm so lucky that he wants me, I haven't really thought about or said that yet, but I am. I know I'm confusing him; by saying I don't want sex, and acting like I want it now, but I can't really stop myself.

 

Pulling back, I see a look of disappointment on his face, though there is a glint of relief in his eyes and I understand why. He wants sex, but I think I have to be more forward about it so that he knows what I want, or at least take it somewhere more private and comfortable before doing something. I smile.

 

“Shall we go out somewhere to eat?” I ask, and he nods weakly, seemingly shy as he picks the pillow off the floor. Smirking a little, I scoop him into my arms in the way that a groom would carry a bride over a threshold and take him to his room, laying him upon the bed carefully, stroking his hair. “…I'll leave you to pick your own clothes…” Turning, I leave the room and enter my own, getting dressed in my scruffiest pair of jeans - the ones with the holes in the knees and the battered bottoms - and pull on one of my button-up shirts. Putting on my trainers, I wonder whether I should buy him his own clothes again, and let him choose what he wants. But I suppose he would tell me if he was unhappy with what he had, right? The door opens and I turn around, seeing him standing in all black, his tail waving behind him. “I'll just be a second…” I say, then tie my laces and get up, moving over.

 

“I'm ready…” He says, pulling at the lycra shorts in what seems to be nervousness. I sigh. He really does need new clothes…

 

“Let's go then…” I grasp his hand and my wallet and we exit to the car, before I curse and run back to lock the door, feeling stupid when I get back and climb in. The string I stapled to the roof of my car is dangling in front of his face, and I can see the desire to play with it in is eyes, though I know he won't do so. Putting my seatbelt on, I turn the key in the ignition and we are off.

 

I'm not quite sure where to take him though, and, because of this, I have to drive around the roundabout a few times before picking a direction. 'Geta, however, doesn't seem to notice, his eyes fixed on the white string. Looking over at him for a second, I realise just how much I miss those cat ears I gave him. Sure, it could be seen as something pervy and sexual, but there was something about those that I liked, though I cannot put my finger on it.

 

I finally decide to check out an old pub that Chichi and I used to go to quite often, called `The Strawberry' or something like that. It had good food and a good atmosphere, so he will like it, or, at least that's what I'm hoping. As I park the car, I see 'Geta sitting up straight, no longer looking at the string, his eyes looking over the large building.

 

“…They do fish here, right?” Is all he says, and I nod, getting out of the car and waiting for him. But it seems he doesn't like the look of the building or something, and he hasn't gotten out yet, so I go around and open the door, unbuckling him and offering my hand.

 

“They do great fish here…” I say quietly, not sure what he is thinking. And I'm not sure I want to. His hand finally grasps mine and I pull him out, closing his door and locking the car with the button on my keys, holding his hand as we walk through the doors of the restaurant, waiting at the counter to be seated. After a few moments, a waitress arrives, and, after looking over me and 'Geta a few times, she gives a shaky smile.

 

“I have to talk to the manager…” She insists, then walks away, leaving us to blink. That's very rude of her, actually. Why is she going to talk to the manager? Is it because we are both men and I'm holding his hand? I frown. If that's the case, I think I'll take them to court if they don't let us in… 'Geta looks over at me, noticing how I had clenched my hand tighter to his as the girl had left, but I continue to look forwards, angry that she would even dare to get the manager in the first place.

 

After what seems like an eternity, the girl comes back, another person with her who I don't quite recognise until she is behind the counter, a glare on Chichi's face as she looks at us, then to where I am holding his hand, scowling.

 

“Kakarott.” A man comes from around the corner - the previous owner of the pub - and he puts his arm around my ex-wife's shoulders, making me grit my teeth and look at them both. “What are you doing here?” Chichi growls at me, and I know coming here has been a mistake.

 

“Can't I go to pubs anymore?” I say testily, not in the mood for her to make a scene, even if it appears that it is now her restaurant too. “I thought I'd treat my boyfriend to a meal, is that a problem?” I'm deliberately trying to piss her off now. How dare she treat me like shit after she walked out on me? I didn't kick her out or anything, and she's probably happier here than she was with me. What the hell is her problem?

 

Her eyes narrow as the owner gives me a disgusted look.

 

“You're not welcome here.” He grunts, pulling her closer to his side. “You mistreated her for…that thing you're touching!” My eye twitches as I get defensive, pulling 'Geta closer to myself, glaring.

 

“He's a person, you dimwitted-” I am cut off as 'Geta gently presses his fingers to my lips, turning his back to them, his chocolate gaze only on me.

 

“It isn't worth it Kakarott. Let's go somewhere else, somewhere nicer.” He says gently, then kisses my cheek. “It doesn't look very clean here any-” He stops mid-sentence and his face pales before he yells in pain, sinking to his knees, Chichi having moved over and grabbed his tail, pulling on it harshly. The look of pain on his face causes me to lose my temper and I lash out, my fist connecting with the side of Chichi's head, forcing her to let go as she falls over, clutching her face and yelling herself.

 

“Don't you dare touch my 'Geta!” I scream at her, then pick him up from the floor, holding him in my arms. Looking at his face, I see he has passed out, and I snarl. “You hateful bitch! What did he do to you?!” Through this, the man has just stood there, before his eyes widen and he moves forward, about to lash back out at me. I just stand there, my eyes narrowed, obviously looking ready to kill as the waitress grabs his arm, shaking.

 

“L-Let him be, just ban him and leave it…” She says quietly, pressing up to his arm in a sexual manner while Chichi is on the floor, too preoccupied with her face to notice. I smirk.

 

“Congratulations on your new husband, Chichi.” I mock, finally seeing the matching silver bands on their fingers. “Shame he's dating waitresses behind your back!” She looks over and cries more when she sees the waitress cuddled up to him like that and I growl, turning and exiting the place, unimpressed as I climb back into my car. I look over at Vegeta and get nervous at his lack of movement, trembling as I buckle him into the passenger seat and drive towards the nearest hospital. He doesn't look so good…

 

I cannot help my nervous feeling as I drive a bit faster, then faster still. I don't know what's wrong, and it scares me. He looks half-dead in the seat and I can't bear it. Putting my foot down, I speed towards the hospital, probably breaking the speed limit by half as I screech to a halt, not even bothering to get a space as I stop in front of the hospital and pull the keys from the ignition, running to get 'Geta from his seat and take him inside.

 

I don't even lock my car.

 

He's so limp, too limp, and I carry him to the front desk, tears in my eyes as I look at the nurse who is on the phone, hoping to God that she will hurry up so that she can help him. One look at me and she puts the phone down, getting up, her eyes wide.

 

“What's happened?!” She asks, reaching to touch him, but I move back and swallow.

 

“Please…I need a doctor for him…” Snapping out of her shock, she grabs a pager, typing in a code and other things. She finally finishes and points to a chair, but I can't sit down right now. I'm so worried…

 

It seems like forever before a doctor finally arrives, making me feel like one will never get here before the doctor asks me to follow them, running down the corridor and giving me no chance but to follow. Nervous, I can't help but notice we're going a long way, worried for 'Geta's safety and well-being. We arrive in a room and he motions to a bed, telling me to lay Vegeta on it, but I don't want to. I'm too scared to let go.

 

“Do you want me to find out what's wrong or not?!” The doctor yells, and I have no choice but to lay him down, smoothing a strand of hair from his face, before being ushered out of the room by a nurse, my eyes watering as I have to sit in the waiting room, just a mass of nerves.

 

I can't watch the time, I don't want to know how long he has been in there, so I look at the floor and pace around, wanting to hit something. If he's badly injured, I'm going to hunt down that bitch and fucking finish her off!

 

Realising what I just said, I scold myself, sitting down and burying my head in my hands. Hours later, it seems, the doctor and nurses come out of the room, all looking grim, the doctor pale.

 

“D-Do you know what's wrong?” I gasp, my voice thick. They all look between themselves before looking at me.

 

“I'm afraid he doesn't have very long to live…”