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.