Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Star ❯ Star ( Chapter 1 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
Star
- Just a tiny little ficlet I whipped up for Shark Shark's
doodle
~
The air was cool and smelt sweet, like wet grass and fallen leaves.
The sky was clear, open, the weight of the galaxy hanging heavily
above them, so close each star could almost be plucked from the
heavens, especially if he was inclined to fly her up there, held
safely in his powerful arms.
But he wasn't. He was content to sit on the balcony of her family's
estate and simply look up. She pretended to watch the sky too while
really watching him. The scene felt familiar, and she recalled a
similar meeting, years ago, when they were barely more than
strangers living together. She'd asked him then if it was
disconcerting, seeing an unfamiliar sky. He'd sneered at her, and
she'd been surprised when he deigned her with an answer.
“All skies are foreign to me.”
It had hurt, not his words but their meaning. She'd been informed
of his people's history, heard how Frieza had blown up his planet
and people, heard how the Saiyans were used to planet hop, destroy,
overtake, sell, and she knew the truth of his words. All skies were
unfamiliar to him, for when had he ever been somewhere long enough
to call any of them home? But she'd done her best to hide her
sadness from him, for nothing angered him more than pity,
especially from her, `weak' as she was, and he was already so
indebted to her, for her hospitality, her house, her food, her
technical know how, and her kindness… The last thing he
needed from her was her pity on top of that.
Now, years later, with so much growth between them, including a
lilac haired boy asleep soundly in his room down the hall, Bulma
wondered what Vegeta saw in the sky now. Was it still unfamiliar to
him, as alien as the first time he'd seen it? Did he still search
for the spot where his planet should have been?
“You're staring,” he grouched, his voice familiar and
deep, little more than a growl that would have had others back away
in fear, but it made her smile and inch closer.
“So?”
He didn't even turn to look at her, simply eyeballing her from the
corner of his narrowed gaze. “It's aggravating.”
“Why?” she pressed, half teasing, half serious.
Something about pressing Vegeta's buttons was infinitely amusing to
her, but after all this time she was amazed he'd still feel
uncomfortable under her scrutiny.
“To Saiyans, a prolonged stare like that is a
challenge.”
She perked up, intrigued, always fascinated to learn more about his
species, especially as he was so rarely inclined to speak at length
on anything personal. “Oh? For battle?”
Vegeta looked back at the stars, huffing ever so softly through his
nose. “Something like that.”
“Then what?” Bulma asked, scooting in closer again so
that her side was pressed against him, and he was forced to lift
his arm to make room for her or risk it getting squashed. She took
advantage and cuddled in even closer; reluctantly he wrapped his
arm about her.
“For dominance,” he amended. “For power, for
food, or…” his voice trailed off.
Bulma looked at him staring up at the stars, and though it was hard
to see in the dark, she was sure there was color in his cheeks.
“Or?” she pressed, relentless.
Vegeta cleared his throat. “Sex.”
Bulma's mouth twisted into a wicked smile. “Oh?” she
said, her voice taking on a new tone, more breathy and
suggestive.
“Stop that,” he snapped at her, and she knew now that
he wasn't looking at her on purpose, didn't dare. His discomfort
sent a thrill through her, and she leaned in, breathing on his jaw,
feeling him twitch in response to her warm breath.
“Vegeta~” she sing-songed.
“No,” he said flatly.
“Ve~geeeta~”
“Goddamnit, woman!”
“What?” she protested with a pout. “We're just
looking at the stars.”
He finally turned and glared at her. “I'm looking at
the stars. You're being a pain in the ass!”
She pouted and lowered her eyes coyly. “I'm just admiring the
brightest star of the bunch,” she sulked, running her fingers
down his abs.
His stomach muscles tightened in response, and from his soft,
embarrassed, “Tch,” she knew she had him, he was a
sucker for having his ego storked. “You're impossible,”
he grumbled.
She smiled, looking up at him. He met her gaze, and for a few long,
precious heart beats, they stared into each other's eyes.
Bulma grinned, “I accept your challenge,” she said,
curling her fingers in his training suit, trying to tug him towards
her.
He resisted, sneering. “Maybe I was challenging you for
food.”
“Same difference,” she said dismissively. “You
can eat me.” Her answer surprised a laugh from him, and she
used the opening to slip into his lap, straddling his rock hard
thighs. “Vegeta, just fuck me already,” she said,
cupping his face and leaning down to hover her mouth over his.
“Why should I?” he growled back defiantly, even as his
hands grabbed her hips.
“Because I challenged you, and you never back away from a
challenge,” she purred, settling into his palms.
Vegeta hummed, agreeing, and he pulled her in tight against him,
grinding their hips together.
After some finagling and shifting of clothing, he raised her up and
sank her down, down over the length of him until they were
connected as one. Bulma arched back, shuddering in delight to be
filled by him. Her hands on his shoulders, her head dropping back,
she looked up at the stars overhead, so bright and beautiful it
made her chest ache.
He fucked her until she saw different stars in her eyes, and when
they were done she fell limply against him, panting for air, the
cool wind drying the sweat on their skin.
“Mmm… I love you,” she said, contented as a cat
with a belly full of milk.
“Hngg,” he replied back, his usual way of returning the
sentiment, his fingers idly stroking her back.
She glanced at him and saw he was once more looking at the sky, the
speckled galaxy reflected in his dark eyes. “What do you
see?” she asked.
“Home,” he replied, and as soon as the word left his
lips his fingers stilled on her back, his body tensing.
“Planet Vegeta?” she asked, surprised, sitting up to
look at him.
He shook his head and didn't elaborate. She stared at him curiously
and saw that he was avoiding her eyes, blushing furiously. He
hadn't meant to admit that to her, to let the answer slip out. She
smiled softly, tenderly, understanding.
“Hungry?” she asked, deftly changing the subject for
him.
He nodded, as she predicted he would. Food was a Saiyan's cure-all,
especially if it got him out of an awkward situation.
They got up, carefully untangling themselves from each other and
righting their clothing, and Bulma headed inside to find left overs
fit for a Saiyan prince's feast. As she treaded towards the
kitchen, she wiped away a few stray tears, smiling wetly to
herself, wondering how long it had been that Vegeta had considered
this place his home.