Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unconditional Bonds (revamped) ❯ Interlude ( Chapter 14 )

Chapter Fourteen: Interlude

They entered a large open room, a favored one of the prince's where he usually took his meals. Vegeta was quiet, saying nothing as he sat himself down at the table. Not particularly unusual for him, but this silence was uneasy.

Piccolo leaned against the wall; the Saiyan Prince would speak when he was ready. Until that time he would meditate. He shut his eyes and lowered his head, anchoring himself. It was then that something peculiar happened:

`I can't believe it! With him! Gods what an ugly bastard! She left me for that?! A fucking toothpick with a wide ass chin and big teeth? It looks like he's trying to eat himself, for Kami's sake. And that snout of his: repulsive! He must be charismatic or something...He seemed to have cared for her, though. He stood up to me so that should say something. Trunks hates him but that's understandable, I wouldn't like him either. I don't like him: bastard! Yet, if it wasn't for him, I'd still be with her...I wouldn't be here...with him... Odd, perhaps he's not such a bastard, maybe I need to give him a medal instead.. `Thank you so much for taking that naggy bitch off of my hands, what a great guy'...no...I'm being an ass...she wasn't bad, she just wasn't right...not for me...

Piccolo could hear all of it. It wasn't like Nail or Kami, although at first he thought it was. But these were not voices in his mind. This spoke through his entire being. Words couldn't describe it, the voice was warm, like there was a hot or coldness associated with it. It was more tangible than either Nail or Kami, yet soft, like he had to strain to hear it. He wished Vegeta would think louder.

`Shouldn't I feel bad? Shouldn't I be more distraught over this? It's only been two weeks or so, this should be taking me months if not years to get over. Yet, I feel fine, a bit somber over the matter, but nothing more...Fucking furious, that's for sure. She didn't have to betray me like a fucking whore! She should have just talked to me. I wasn't exactly happy either, I'm sure we could have reached an understanding.…but what would I have done? Would I have tried to work things out? If not for our sakes, then Trunks? But we were bonded this shouldn't have happened-Fuck! How naïve am I?'

Vegeta shifted in his seat, a slight frown tugging at the corners of his mouth the only indication of the turmoil brooding within.

`How is it that you can be bonded to someone and still be absolutely miserable in their presence? I was suffocating! And she was too…we just didn't work well together anymore. There's too big a gap between us. We didn't share anything, and for all of the affection between us, we never understood one another. She was too erratic. At first, I considered this a challenge, but over the years it had grown tiresome. I can't keep up with her ever-changing moods. A failing on my part; she's always been this way. But, on hers…she never did accept me fully. She loved me once, I don't doubt that, but she never accepted what I was…am. My past. There are things I do regret, many, but it wasn't all bad. I could have told her tales that would spin her imagination. I have seen so many things, been to so many places… But she wouldn't listen! She'd get that disgusted look in her eyes…the one that made me want to crawl into a hole. And she wonders why I never talked to her about my feelings. Idiot. She doesn't understand what's it's like. I was an elite soldier in the most powerful enterprise the universe had ever seen. I was godlike; both feared and revered. But I was also a servant and ridiculed for my heritage. It messes with you being this way. She never knew. She never knew how hard it was for me to adapt. She just thought I was being cold and arrogant… This place has no fucking hierarchy! No set lines or boundaries of any sort. For fucks sake, I didn't know where I fit! Now, a dozen years later, I have learnedtoappreciate it. It is liberating in a way, having no caste system. But at the time? No, my dearest, I didn't have an abrupt change of heart and suddenly go from `evil' to `good'. But that's the way you saw things…I was her success story. She fucking romanticized me; I was her `dark angel' as she liked to call me. If she only knew…I tried to show her in other ways. What is it with these humans and their fucking conversations? They always have to fucking talk. Actions speak louder than words, why could she never see this?'

The prince shut his eyes and slowed his breathing.

`It's finally over. Thank the Gods.'

Piccolo's brow raised a fraction. It was like having an open book in his palms. He knew he shouldn't be listening to this. This was beyond prying, but he couldn't stop himself. Vegeta was a very guarded individual, and this glimpse beneath the surface was enthralling. True, he knew some of it already. On a few rare occasions the prince had sought him out for guidance, and would sometimes make references to his past. He found it fascinating, every aspect of it. Bulma was a fool. How could she not appreciate this man in his entirety? Well, it was her loss, and he'd reap the benefits from it…when and if Vegeta was up for it.

There was a connection between them now, but the ball was in the Saiyan's court. He had spilt his guts last night, and it was up to the prince to decide what to do with the information he'd been given. As if on cue, he heard his name.

He opened his eyes, but the prince wasn't looking at him. He was sitting at the table, arms crossed and eyes closed, still in deep thought. It wasn't spoken aloud; he concentrated again on the man seated a few yards away from him.

`I wasn't expecting this…a new bond? I didn't think it possible. It's too soon, isn't it? It would be inappropriate for me to just jump into another relationship…But last night…and the night before that…Fuck protocol! This could get interesting, Piccolo's certainly more up my alley; I can't get enough. How refreshing! No mulling over feelings or awkward meetings, just taking action, that's so like him. Damn it! Why didn't I notice him first!? Well, he's here now. That bitch may have hurt me, but the pain was worth it…I wish he'd speed things up though; he only seems to act on his impulses when he thinks I won't fight back. I won't bite…hard. Funny, I wasn't nearly as aggressive with Bulma. It took nearly a year to develop a relationship with her and that had been one hell of a bumpy ride. But this? Bring it on! Besides, my father actually wouldn't roll in his grave over this match. Piccolo would be considered an elite in Saiyan society...wasn't his father of royal bearing? Didn't they refer to him as `King' Piccolo? So, logically, that would make his son a prince. This works out all too nicely...Hmm, I guess I better say something before he gets bored and walks off...no...I don't think he would... I think he'd stand there all night if need be. So different from Bulma...not that the two are comparable by any means...damn I'm hungry…what time is it? I wonder what that Popo guy is going to bring for dinner...Prince Piccolo; wonder why he doesn't claim his birthright? He could be a god if he wanted, he could do that instead of Dende. Fighting is in his blood though, have to admire that...Eh, wish I could do that mind trick like he does, get people to know what he wants when he wants. I'm thinking porterhouse steak....Five of them...Trunks seemed to be okay, not exactly thrilled, but okay. He'll be fine, he'll just need some time. If push comes to shove, I can always bring him here, but it would be best if he stayed with his mother. He's never been away from his home; life would be much easier for him if he stayed put...okay guess I should talk, but first I want food-'

"It's on its way."

The prince looked startled.

"What's on its way?"

"Your food. Five porterhouse steaks, right?"

Vegeta abruptly got to his feet.

"How did you know that?"

"I heard you."

The prince's eyes narrowed to slits.

"What are you talking about, Namek?" he snapped, his body rigid. "I didn't think you could read minds."

Piccolo raised a brow, "You're suppose to be the guru on bonds. And oh, by the way," he added, rather unwisely, "that would be Prince Piccolo to you."

A slight shade of pink tinged the elite's cheeks. He shot the warrior across from him a heated look and in the process masked his feelings and thoughts.

Piccolo sighed; he shouldn't have done that. He knew how angry he got when Nail or Kami would read his mind.

"Sorry, Vegeta. That was invasive. I wasn't trying to hear you, well at least not at first. It just happened," he explained. "I didn't even know I could do it until just now. But don't worry, I think I have it under control. It won't happen again."

Vegeta's look didn't waver.

"You heard all of it?"

Piccolo hesitated, not wanting to anger the shorter man further. But finally he settled with a small inclination of his head.

The tinge returned, spreading from the bridge of the Saiyan's nose. He opened his mouth to say something, but then snapped it shut. What in the hell was he supposed to say? The older man chewed over the matter for a moment. He was embarrassed, but he was surprised to find that he wasn't angry. He was, however, dying to know what the Namek thought of the whole situation. They had not spoken since last night, so everything was still up in the air.

"Well?" he asked impatiently.

A bewildered look crossed the tall man's face.

"Well what?"

"Well," Vegeta repeated, "you heard," he waved his hand in the air with annoyance, "everything, and Idon't have the benefit of reading minds, so what do you think?"

"About what?"

Vegeta's jaw tightened. Was Piccolo being this thick on purpose? He didn't want to get into an uncomfortable tête-à-tête and he highly doubted his companion did either.

"Us," he replied shortly, "the other night."

Piccolo looked at him levelly, though his heart had jumped in his throat.

"I'm relieved to know that I wasn't taking advantage you." It was a careful reply, but an honest one.

Vegeta snorted.

"Fool, no one takes advantage of me."

"Is that a challenge?" he asked, smirking courageously.

"Maybe," the elite replied returning the smirk, but his face grew thoughtful. "Mind reading?" he asked, "I..." this was an awkward subject, "I didn't think Saiyan bonds worked this way. But perhaps I was wrong-"

`No, you weren't wrong. Namekian bonds work this way though.'

A look of pure confusion crossed the Saiyan's face.

"Did you just say something to me, telepathically? "

Piccolo nodded.

"It's odd, I could barely sense it. Could you do it again?"

"Sure."

Vegeta's eyes widened in amazement as the voice began speaking through him. It was Piccolo's deep rumbling bass, but it was different somehow, more textured. He could feel its warm solidarity. His stomach suddenly flip-flopped. He liked it…a lot. When the voice ceased, he felt a slight loss.

"Did you get all that?" the Namek asked out loud.

"Yes," the prince answered, "I've never had someone speak in my head like that, I thought for a second it was my imagination, but words can't describe it," He shrugged, "I guess this is still too new. You'll have to teach me how to reply, I'm unschooled in telepathy."

"We'll work on it later," Piccolo promised, extremely pleased that Vegeta was amiable towards the situation. "Let's speak out loud for now. Besides your thoughts give me a headache."

He threw off his weighted cape and turban to relieve the building pressure in his head. The sofa beckoned to him so he moved to it and plopped down, stretching his limbs. This seemed to help slightly and he settled himself more into the cushions.

Vegeta watched him closely; he thought he looked better without the damn cape and turban anyway. He shook the thought. Now he was paranoid. He looked at the lounging Namekian warrior. He didn't seem to be reading his mind, well didn't act like it anyway. No, Piccolo said he wouldn't do it again and he'd stick to his word.

The Saiyan settled into a nearby chair. Food was brought and within a matter of moments quickly devoured.

Piccolo finally spoke.

"So you saw Billy."

Vegeta grunted in response, he honestly didn't want to talk about it.

"I tried to warn you, ah well, you were going to have to see him eventually." He closed his eyes and rolled his neck, having trouble shaking the pain that was throbbing in his head. He made a mental note to himself that mind reading caused headaches, incredibly nasty headaches.

He suddenly felt strong hands rest on his shoulders; he tensed up being unaccustomed to physical contact.

"Just relax." A warm breath in his ear.

After a second's hesitation, he willed himself to unwind beneath the Saiyan's touch letting out a deep breath in the process.

Slowly the hands started to knead the muscles that corded over his shoulders and ran up his neck. Soft fingertips made their way up to the base of his skull, gently rotating. The pain behind his eyes ebbed, relief and pleasure quickly overtaking its place. For the first time in his life, he fully let go of all his doubts and worries and let the prince have full control.

The motions of the Saiyan's hands deepened with pressure. He moved with fluid strokes up and down the Namek's neck. However, he was standing behind him, the couch was preventing him from reaching more areas. So he made a quick decision.

Piccolo felt Vegeta's fingers leave him. He nearly protested, but he felt a weight straddle his rib cage. He cracked open an eye. The Prince was sitting on top of him, looking down at him with interest.

Gingerly, Vegeta placed his hands back on his shoulders and began his ministrations once more. Yet, this time he let his finger's trail down the Namekian's chest. Damn, but he was built. This definitely wasn't a human female, which was what he was accustomed to. No soft curves here, only sharp, hard lines. A thrill ran through him as he continued his explorations. Two nights ago had been his first encounter with a male, and it had been mind blowing. He was eager to repeat the experience.

His touch ventured up to the side of the green man's neck to his face. His fingertips suddenly grew light as they experimentally traced his ears. Piccolo shuddered beneath him but otherwise didn't stir from his place. Encouraged, Vegeta continued with his tentative touches. It was when he reached the antennas that he got the greatest response. He felt more than heard Piccolo moan when he let his fingers dance lightly across the appendages. The sound went straight through him. Hoping to hear it again, he leaned forward and let the tip of his tongue flick across one of them. He felt the man beneath him hold his breath. Gently, he wrapped his mouth around the slender antenna and sucked lightly.

Piccolo nearly came off of the couch. His manhood instantly sprung to life and he unexpectedly bucked under the prince, nearly throwing him off. Vegeta grabbed the side of the sofa to steady himself. Black eyes met.

"So, Nameks have their weak spots too, eh?" he asked wearing a crafty smile.

"Guess so," he replied, returning the sly smirk.

Vegeta cupped the Namek's face in his hands and stared at him intently. He leaned forward towards the green warrior, their eyes locked. Their lips brushed together tentatively, before the taller man leaned up melding them together with more conviction. The Saiyan's tongue snaked out of his mouth and brushed the Namek's lips, begging for entry. Piccolo was more than happy to comply.

The elite's tongue slowly began its quest into the depths of his companion's mouth, gently caressing the palate then moving up to line the teeth...

Sharp!

Vegeta's tongue grazed one of Piccolo's canines. The Namek seemed to enjoy the taste of Saiyan blood as his own tongue started to move more boldly within his lover's mouth, drowning out the tiny exclamation of his smaller lover. One of his hands moved to the prince's back and under his shirt moving lower and lower on his back until he found the sensitive tail spot. Quickly he found it and began to sweetly torment the prince. Vegeta broke the kiss with a moan, and began rocking on the Namek's chest mindlessly.

After a time, he more or less regained control over himself and leaned forward. Two could play at this game. The Saiyan's tongue darted out again and fleetly went for the Namek's antenna. Piccolo bit his bottom lip, nearly screaming out in ecstasy. His breath left him in heavy pants; this was driving him insane! So to up the ante with his free hand he reached down to the front of Vegeta's pants and started to pet his already hard member through the front of his jeans.

The Prince's eyes rolled into the back of his head and groaning he rocked in the younger man's grasp between the two sensations. His sucking became more forceful and Piccolo, despite his best efforts, moaned deep in his throat. It took everything he had to keep from throwing the Saiyan on the floor and taking him right there. Vegeta was in the same state, his hands twisted in the other warrior's gi, preparing to rip it from him in one fluid movement.

Piccolo's eyes snapped open.

"Vegeta, stop."

An incoherent grunt was his reply.

"No, really. Stop. Someone's coming."

Vegeta's eyes, that were half-lidded, open slightly more. He removed his mouth from the Namek's antenna only for a moment to speak and then resumed his task.

"Use your mind trick thing and tell them to go away."

Piccolo gave a slight cry, enjoying the Prince's tongue. He didn't want this to end, but didn't want to get caught either.

"Now wouldn't be a good time to open my mind to anyone else."

Vegeta groaned, he didn't want to stop. Suddenly he felt a familiar ki, and a distressed one at that.

He snapped to attention and then grumbled.

"Damn kid. I wonder what he wants. I saw him not 4 hours ago."

Piccolo sat up, sliding Vegeta more into his lap.

"I don't know, but his ki level is sky high."

Vegeta nodded, "We'll have to continue this later." He lightly kissed the Namek, "But not too much later."

The green man's only reply was a non-committal grunt.

They got themselves more or less presentable, and just in time too. Outside the door they could hear Trunks' frantic voice demanding to know where his father was.

"Where's my dad? I need to talk to him right now!"

Dende's voice was of soothing comfort.

"Just a moment, I'll go get your father."

But there was no need for the young guardian to summon the prince, for he had already emerged from the large room. Piccolo motioned to Dende and suggested that they depart for the time being and leave the Saiyan and his son alone for a while. The younger Namek had whole-heartedly agreed and the two vanished to another part of the compound.

Wasting no time, Trunks ran towards his rather annoyed, father. Vegeta put a hand in front of him.

"Stop."

The child halted.

Vegeta eyed his only son. He wasn't on fire or bleeding profusely, which he felt should be the only excuses for his interruption. No, the child was in perfect health. In a rather gruff voice,

"What's the matter?"

The lavender-haired boy took a deep breath.

"I ran away from home."

"So I've gathered. Now why?"

A look of hostility crossed the young boy's face.

"I hate them! I don't want to live there anymore! I want to live with you."

Vegeta shook his head and sighed deeply, life had become too dramatic for his liking.

"Trunks, just because you don't like a situation-"

"Mom said I can't train anymore!"

"What?!?!"

Trunks nodded his head and crossed his arms, pleased he had finally gotten his father's full attention. He began explaining the predicament but he was speaking so fast he could hardly be understood. The Saiyan Prince had to stop him and make him start again more slowly. This seemed to fluster the boy, but he apologized and began again.

"I said I overheard Mom and Billy talking. They were saying mean things about you, well Billy was more than anything. So I ran into the room and told Billy to shut his damn mouth and mom scolded me for swearing. Then he said that I should leave the room, that I had nothing to do with what they were talking about. I said that I didn't have to do anything that he said, that he wasn't my dad, that he was the reason you and mom broke up in the first place. Well that made him mad. He said that I did have to listen to him because he was going to be my dad from now on..." he pondered here for a moment, trying to recall the exact words, "a real father who knew howto care for his family. Then he said that the real reason mom wanted you gone was because you...you..." his small fists clenched with rage, "were a evil hate-filled person who only cared about himself. `A cold hearted bastard who should have known when to stay dead.' "

Vegeta's face didn't alter any, his black eyes stayed unwavering on his son. Trunks', on the other hand, voice got incredibly cold.

"That made me real angry, so I…I..." He grew silent; his blue eyes sought the ground.

"What did you do, son?"

The half-Saiyan took his time answering.

"I hit him, dad. I hit him hard."

Vegeta closed his onyx eyes and shook his head very slowly. This was too much. A single hit from an angry Saiyan, even one from a child, would be enough to kill a human ten times over. Just when he thought everything was going right...Life wasn't meant to be so complicated. Maybe he should have left the planet; maybe life would have been easier for everyone if he had. A sea of doubts flooded his mind with a fury so great it made him sick. The world seemed to spin behind his shut lids. Somewhere in the back of his mind he felt a soothing presence emerge, urging him to stay strong. Vegeta felt his heart warm towards the Namekian, grateful that even though he wasn't right next to him he was still with him.

In a soft voice,

"Did you kill him?"

Trunks shook his head.

"No, I wish I would have." He stuck his head up defiantly, "I only managed to break a few bones, I was at a bad angle. I started to walk towards him to finish it, but Mom got in the way. She was really upset, she screamed at me. She said that I looked like you... when you first came to Earth... that I looked like a monster. She said I would never ever fight again not even to train. She said my Saiyan blood had gotten the better of me, and that this was all your fault. When she said that I screamed at her and ran away." He shook his head and his voice became defensive.

"But I was only defending your name. He deserved to die for what he said. I hate him! I hate them both! I want them to die! I'll kill them myself!"

Vegeta watched his son in horror. He no longer looked like the nine year old rambunctious kid he had seen earlier that day. His face was painted in blood-thirsty rage. His whole demeanor screamed murder. Vegeta felt his stomach tightening in knots with each word the child let fly from his mouth. He dropped to his son's level and looked him dead in the eye.

"You don't mean that."

Tears of anger and hate were hanging in the boy's eyes.

"Yes I do! I mean it! They should die for what they've done. I'm going to kill them, you just watch, I will, I swear it!" his voice had become crazed at this point.

The Prince shook his son firmly. The boy had managed to alarm the Saiyan, deeply.

"No you don't. You don't mean that, Trunks!" his voice raised with every word, "Don't you EVER speak that way!" He got right in the boy's face, his tone slipping from a stern pitch to a frantic yell, "Do you understand? I NEVER want to hear you say anything like that EVER AGAIN!"

The boy blinked in shock.

Trunks, taking his father's frantic tone as one of anger, began to cry uncontrollably. He slumped to his knees, sobbing so hard he was making himself sick.

Vegeta watched him through glass eyes, still trying to get a handle on what he had just heard.