Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unlikely Bond ❯ Close ( Chapter 60 )

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

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or any of the characters! If I did, the anime would never end and GT would have never happened!

Story notes: This takes place ten years after the Buu saga. The only differences I can think of is that the whole thing with the world tournament in the last episode never happened and Goku didn't leave to train Uub. I wouldn't count on anything from the movies being part of this story's time line either, 'cause I haven't seen them all and they usually don't fit into the show's time line anyway. Especially that Broly crap. Vegeta cried through, like, that whole movie! That certainly didn't happen in this story....but, that's a different rant altogether. Hope you enjoy!

PLEASE heed warning in story description!! If you missed it, this story is not for children! It is also not for people who do not like stories that contain elements of violence, strong language, adult situations, references to sex and sexual activity between men and women, and men and other men. Oh, and fictional alien men having babies...'cause that's a'happen' here folks...

To my wonderful, wonderful beta-reader, Rowina: Thank you, thank you....thank you... ^-^


Bulma lay in her bed and watched her husband who sat in an armchair by the window, idly flipping through one of her science journals. She couldn’t wait for the time when he could lie down and sleep through the night with her.

Having Goku and Chi Chi living in their home would not be the easiest situation, she was aware, but she truly felt it was for the best. For their older children, and certainly for Vegeta and Goku. She didn’t feel it was a sacrifice that she or Chi Chi couldn’t manage. She certainly wasn't advocating that Vegeta take Goku as a second spouse, but she did like the Saiyan idea of a ‘clan family.’ Everyone in both of their families had many unique and wonderful gifts to share. And as much as it would benefit Ninji and Veji, she felt it would benefit the older three as well.

There was a small knock on the door, and her daughter’s voice called through.

“Mama? Papa? May I come in?”

Vegeta looked up, but Bulma answered.

“Of course, sweetie,” she replied.

Bulla entered and crossed to the bed, lying down in her father’s place.

“Why were the cleaning people here so late?” she asked. “Is Trunks getting a bigger room again?”

Bulma noticed Vegeta resume his reading. She smiled at her daughter.

“No. It’s a surprise you'll discover tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Bulla pulled the covers over herself and lay back onto the pillows. “Since Papa won’t be here tonight, can I sleep in here?”

“Sure,” Bulma answered. “We can watch a nice, fun, girls' movie.”

“I need a drink,” Vegeta announced. “I will return.”

Bulla watched until her father was out of the room before speaking to her mother.

“How old were you when you met Dad?” she asked. Bulma smiled, placing her arm around her daughter.

“I was almost thirty,” she told her. “And your father was just a bit older than me.” Bulla frowned.

“So old...” she mused aloud. Her mother chuckled, giving the girl a squeeze.

“I didn’t find him until I stopped looking. I would say, I found him after I had given up the search altogether! There is no hurry, you know...” Her smile faltered a bit as she continued. “Especially for you. As a half Saiyan, you’ll stay young longer than humans your age.”

“Is that why you look older than Papa?” Bulla asked.

‘Ouch,’ Bulma thought to herself. ‘I keep forgetting about that. Is it so obvious...?’

“Um, yeah...” she replied.

“So if I marry a human,” Bulla reasoned, “I should pick a younger one... But Mom, younger boys are so dumb... and short.”

Bulma laughed.

“There is a magic age where it all evens out,” she told her child. “You have plenty of time.” The princess was quiet a moment before speaking softly.

“I wanted to marry a Saiyan... but I don’t think that will happen...” She looked up at her mother. “Papa said that the other Saiyans were bad.”

Bulma frowned. Vegeta said that he had ‘clarified’ the situation with the child, but he didn’t elaborate.

“Well, honey,” she began tentatively, “it’s true that those Saiyans were bad. But not all of the Saiyans in the universe are bad. Mr. Daikkon isn’t, is he?”

“Gross,” Bulla answered, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t want to marry Mr. Daikkon! And Papa doesn’t seem to like him too much, anyway. Besides, he said that older boys couldn’t date younger girls.”

“He did, huh?” Bulma asked her, her smile returning. “Well, I think it will all work out for the best. You’ll see.”

Bulla snuggled closer to her mother’s side.

“I hope so.”

Bulma laid her chin against Bulla’s head and sighed softly. Soon, Bulla would feel she was too old to cuddle with her parents or sleep in their bed. It was moments like these that made her regret not having more children. But she knew that neither she nor Vegeta was the type for an entire house full of kids. Of course, soon their household would more than double its size.

Vegeta came back into the room and returned to his chair by the window. The two looked at one another, sharing a wide range of feelings in the single exchange. She loved him more than she'd ever thought was possible, even when she was a young romantic idealist like her daughter.

“Why don’t you go grab us a movie?” Bulma suggested to her child. Bulla jumped out of the bed and rushed off without a word. Bulma turned back to Vegeta. “You know, you could always join us until he calls,” she said.

“That would require me to watch whatever piece of cinematic drivel she comes up with,” the prince replied. “I’ll pass.”

“...you don’t have to watch,” she told him. “You could just lie here with your arms around me. I did get shortchanged this afternoon...”

Vegeta smirked, but rose from his chair and crossed the room to get into bed beside his wife. Happily, Bulma cuddled against him, tilting her head to accept his kiss on her neck.

“Gah... am I interrupting?” Bulla asked from the doorway, a look of disgust on her face.

“Of course not,” Bulma laughed, motioning her inside. “Daddy is going to watch with us.”

The princess smiled, moving to set up the television and joining her parents on the bed. She lay close to Bulma, but reached out to hold Vegeta’s hand. She loved when her family was close and did family things together. She wished Trunks was with them.

She also wished that her little brothers were there, too.


“I can’t believe you’re really making us go home!” Goten laughed, throwing his arm around his friend’s shoulders as they exited the third and final club of the evening.

“I’ve already stayed out longer than I planned,” Trunks explained to him. “You’d feel differently if it were you that had to be at school at eight am.” Goten continued to chuckle as he walked to the curb, fished his capsule case out of his pocket and selected his car. In a puff of smoke, the gleaming ZM70 appeared.

“Man,” Goten sighed, placing his hands on his hips. “That is one damn sexy car.”

“And it’s yours, bro,” Trunks reminded him. “Why do you sound so wistful?”

“Well, you see --”

“Goten?”

The teens turned upon hearing the soft voice. Standing on the sidewalk with three other young ladies was Goten’s ex-girlfriend Paris.

“Paris,” Goten spoke. “Uh... hey...” Trunks turned and moved discreetly away from his friend and closer to the vehicle. Goten placed his hands in his pockets. “How are you and your folks?”

“Good,” the girl replied, tossing her auburn hair off of her shoulder, exposing the spaghetti strap of her asymmetrical glittering top. “You look good.”

“Thanks,” he replied. “I’m doing pretty well... got a job and starting school in the fall... you?”

“I’ve been to seven concerts this summer so far,” she said with a smile. “And my parents are sending me overseas for two weeks. Sort of for a ‘post graduation, happy summer’ gift.” She looked past Goten and took in the view. “Did Trunks get a new car?”

Goten turned to where Trunks was leaning against the red and silver sports car. The lavender haired youth gave a warm smile to them both. Goten turned back to his ex.

“No. It’s just a Capsule Corp concept car... We were just using it for tonight.”

“Oh,” she seemed a little disappointed. Goten felt a stab of irritation.

“So you gonna start school in the fall, too?” he asked. “Or are you taking a year off?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger, her eyes still lingering on the vehicle behind him. “I can’t think of anything I’d like to study...” She stepped closer to him, her eyes moving to look into his and lifting her hand to adjust the collar of his shirt. “I sure miss the fun we used to have...” she spoke in a hushed tone.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah... You wanna come along with us and party?”

Goten actually entertained the idea for a fraction of a second before answering.

“Nah, you ladies have fun. I have to work tomorrow.” Paris frowned, her lip protruding in a pout.

“Come on, Goten... can’t we forget that little fight we had?” she asked sweetly.

Goten smiled.

“It’s forgotten. It’s in the past,” he assured her. “I’m thinking about the future now.” He gave a wink to the trio behind her. “Y'all have a good night.” He turned from them then, tossing his keys to Trunks and getting into the car. Trunks got behind the wheel, started the car and began heading for home before asking any questions.

“Paris is looking well...” he began. “What did you talk about?”

Goten shrugged, sliding down in his seat and closing his eyes.

“The usual. Parties, concerts, trips, blah blah blah... I don’t know why I’m surprised. I didn’t choose her for her brain, same as she didn’t chose me for mine.”

“Hey,” Trunks said with a frown, “don’t say that. You are very smart! You were doing so much better at the end of the year because you actually started applying yourself. So don’t give me that.”

Goten sighed.

“Then why do I feel so dumb?”

Trunks reached over to give him a supportive pat on the leg.

“You’re too hard on yourself when you shouldn't be, and you are terribly lax at times you should show a little more restraint.”

“Are you saying I’m a loose boy, Trunks Briefs?” Goten gasped, but he was smiling now. “You take that back before I cry!”

Trunks shook his head, chuckling.

“You need to focus more on school and less on dating.”

“And you,” Goten returned, “need to focus less on school and more on dating.” He watched his friend grimace. “Ah-ha! Ya see? You don’t want to! Man, I used to think you’d grow up into the 'Prince of all Playas', youknowit?” Trunks shrugged.

“Sorry to disappoint you...”

“Oh, you don’t disappoint me, just all those lovely ladies out there who want in on the Trunks Briefs action.” Trunks didn’t respond, pulling the car up in front of Capsule Corp and getting out. Goten capsulized the vehicle and the two entered the dark, quiet house, making their way to Trunks’ suite. “Seriously though,” Goten continued once they were inside the older boy’s room. “What kinda person are you looking for that you’re having such a hard time finding?”

“I thought we were talking about you?” Trunks replied. Goten shrugged.

“You already know what I’m looking for.” He took the wash cloth Trunks offered and followed him into the bathroom. “I want someone who doesn’t care that I’m from country folks. I want someone who I can have a good time with, but at the same time, still be able to really talk to.” He hopped up on the bathroom counter and continued speaking as Trunks began washing up. “I want someone who understands me... I want someone who has faith in me and encourages me... and who actually has ambitions of their own so that I can encourage them... I want... I want...”

“A partner?” Trunks supplied, handing Goten a toothbrush.

“Yeah,” Goten replied, continuing to ponder the question. “Someone I can have adult conversations with but still be able to laugh my ass off and be stupid with, ya know?” Trunks nodded. “And...” Goten sighed. “I want to be totally in love... real love... I want to know what that’s like...”

“Well,” Trunks spoke, wiping his mouth on a towel, “isn’t that what everyone is looking for?”

Goten grimaced, his brow creasing.

“Everyone except you, it seems... you’ve stopped looking altogether.”

Trunks stared at him evenly, and answered in a quiet tone.

“I wouldn’t say ‘altogether’...”

He left the bathroom and returned to the bedroom, pulling a pair of pajamas from his dresser for himself, and a pair for his friend, which he tossed onto the bed. In a few minutes, Goten joined him in the bedroom.

“I have a hard time believing you can’t find someone like that, Trunks,” the younger Saiyan told him. Trunks sighed.

“Believe it. I’ve tried dating a vast number and variety of girls, and no one seems to be the one who... balances me,” he said, placing his clothes in the hamper.

“But that was back in high school,” Goten reminded him, tossing him his own clothes, which Trunks added to the laundry. “Certainly there is someone out there for you.”

“Maybe,” Trunks shrugged. “But I feel I might have better luck looking on another planet.”

“Earth is big enough. You have a lot to offer.” Goten told him.

“So do you.” Trunks stated, pulling back the sheet and sitting on the bed.

Goten settled on the end of the bed, watching his friend as the older boy adjusted the pillows behind himself and lay down, placing his hands beneath his head. Trunks was such a great guy, he wanted to see him happy. Even if the young prince were dirt poor, he would still have everything in the world going for him.

“Well, remember,” Goten told him with a smile. “When you’re old, in a few years... if you are still single, you will always have me!”

Trunks grimaced.

“That wasn’t so funny the first time you said it,” he said, turning his eyes to stare up at the ceiling and sighing. “I couldn’t imagine finding someone that I’m as compatible with as I am with you...”

“Is that a line?” Goten chuckled. “You’ll get my hopes up!”

“Don’t be dumb,” Trunks grumbled. “You wouldn’t be happy with a guy.”

“Well, not just any guy,” he grinned. “I’d be totally gay for a guy like you, Trunks! You must forget that you were my very first kiss, taught me everything I know! Though, I dare say I’ve improved quite a bit.” Trunks pulled the pillow over his head to drown out his friend. “Come on, Trunks!” Goten laughed, tugging on the pillow. “Are you saying you couldn’t be gay for me? Is it because you’re more likely to be uke?” He shook Trunks' thigh to gain his attention. “Fine, we’ll flip a coin for it!” He jumped up and grabbed a zeni coin off the night stand. Trunks lifted the corner of his pillow to peer out at his grinning friend. “Heads you’re tails, okay?”

Trunks shook his head, placing the pillow back beneath him.

“Don’t. Be. Dumb.” he stated.

Goten flipped the coin, catching it and slapping it against the back of his other hand.

“Oh, you’re right. I have to be seme so you don’t knock me up.” Trunks chuckled as Goten flung himself onto the bed, coming to rest on his side, his head propped up on his hand. “Could you imagine that conversation with your dad? Or my mom?” Trunks smile faded.

“No.”

“I imagine banshee-worthy wails and the loosening of bowels,” Goten laughed. “Whether it’s us doing it or them, I leave up to you.”

Trunks was quiet a moment and Goten watched him while he thought. Finally, Trunks rolled onto his side to face his friend.

“I think I’m just going to worry about getting my doctorate,” he said, “and let whatever happens, happen.”

Goten groaned.

“How many years does that take?! I can’t see you alone that long! I’d rather see me alone!”

“But what’s the point?” Trunks asked. “We’re looking for companions to have fun, worthwhile relationships with. I’m not interested in getting married young. And neither should you.”

“Amen,” Goten agreed. Trunks continued.

“I don’t need another person to complete me or to have fun... I’ll have you to hang out with ... unless you ditch me for some girl.”

“Never,” his friend scoffed. “I’ve never done it before.”

Trunks raised an eyebrow.

“What if you fall in love?”

Goten grimaced slightly before shaking his head.

“You come first. Always have, always will. But you do need to try and have a good time. And dating is a good time.”

“How much more fun can I have with someone I hardly know than with my own best friend?” he asked.

“Well,” Goten pretended to ponder the question. Trunks gave a small laugh. “Since this is you we're talking about... kissing is very fun.”

“Indeed,” Trunks nodded. “...I suppose... it’s nice...”

“What?” Goten laughed. “Have you not been kissed properly since behind our woodshed, nine years ago?”

“I wouldn’t say that was a proper kiss,” Trunk replied flatly.

“Hey! It was my first one! I was nervous!...Okay,” he grinned, “I was excited, too... boy, you could talk me into anything back then.”

“Funny how those tables have turned,” Trunks mused. Goten smirked.

“I bet you haven’t gotten any better.”

“Screw you,” Trunks responded, giving him a shove in the shoulder. Goten laughed, rolling back onto his side.

“That’s the problem, isn’t it? Your kissing prowess is stunted at eleven years old.”

“It is not,” Trunks defended. “What do you know?”

“I know that I’m a damn fine kisser!” he chuckled. “I think maybe I could teach you a thing or two.”

“Doubtful,” Trunks replied dryly.

“It is on!” Goten exclaimed, jumping up. “It is so on! Let’s see what you got, Briefs!”

Trunks shook his head and answered calmly, trying not to blush.

“I’m not kissing you. I’m a guy.”

Goten shrugged, a smile still on his face.

“You’re not ‘a guy’. You’re Trunks.”

“Did you drink when I wasn’t looking?” the young prince asked as Goten pulled him into a sitting position. “Or are you just high?”

Goten laughed.

“I’m just feeling a little nostalgic.”

The boys stared at each other in silence.

‘What’s the big deal?’ Trunks asked himself. ‘It’s just Goten. You’ve kissed him before... albeit, a long time ago... You love him... What if... What If I am a bad kisser?’

Goten tilted his head slightly, tentatively moving closer. Trunks tilted his head in the opposite direction, involuntarily closing his eyes. Dear Kami, it was like nine years ago behind the Son's woodshed all over again...

Their lips met.

It was just supposed to be a kiss.

One.

Simple.

Kiss.

So why wasn’t it?

The kiss was gentle, at first -- nearly timid -- before melting into a deep, unhurried and deliberate motion. Within a fraction of a second, Goten felt the heat move up his spine and raise the hair on his neck. He pressed his palms flat against the bed as he leaned toward his friend. The one kiss became many, but remained a singular smoldering moment, alive with sensual intensity.

By the time they finally parted, both teens were breathing deeply. Trunks looked expectantly at Goten’s lightly flushed face, the younger boy’s eyes appearing even darker than usual as his irises seemed consumed by his pupils.

Goten let out a slow exhale and spoke in a whisper.

“I stand corrected,” he admitted. It was probably the most sensual kiss he’d ever shared.

Trunks licked his lips, uncertain if he should speak at all. He couldn’t believe how surreal the moment felt. He was used to Goten’s jokingly amorous overtures, and the two were never shy or uncomfortable with one another. And he had thought about this, wondered if he could be as relaxed in an intimate way with his best friend as they were in everything else...

Neither was sure if Trunks had closed his eyes because Goten leaned toward him again, or if Goten leaned back in because Trunks had closed his eyes, but what they were both acutely aware of was the passion building between them in the singular act of kissing. They were still, save for each's gentle exploration of the other's mouth.

Time seemed to slow with each taste, seconds drawing out with every meeting of tongues. There was something there beyond curiosity, a chemistry between them that had lain dormant, possibly just below the surface, until now. Neither wanted to question it at this moment, secure in the knowledge that their friendship could withstand this, even though it was unlike anything they had experienced before. Their bond of limitless devotion changed everything, heightening every physical sensation and transforming what could have been purely mindless pleasure into something so much more -- an incredibly conscious feeling of ... balance ... completion.

Perfection.

Goku blinked his eyes in the darkness, turning automatically to the clock on his bedside table. Four-ten a.m. stared back at him in glowing red. It was becoming second nature for him to wake at the exact time every morning when he knew little Vejita would be starting to fuss for breakfast.

Wearily, he pulled himself from his bed and stretched, taking only a moment to use the bathroom before heading out of his room.

Vegeta sat in a large armchair, the infant prince lying in his lap. The older Saiyan had his hand on the baby’s belly, gently rocking him to soothe his fussing.

“Good morning,” Goku said quietly. “I checked in on Ninji, and he’s still asleep. Do you want me to take him?”

The baby’s fussing had become more insistent upon hearing Goku’s voice.

“I think he wants you to take him,” the prince responded dryly, scooping the baby into his arms and holding him out for Goku. The tall Saiyan cradled the baby and settled onto the sofa to feed him.

The two didn’t speak for a long span of time. Vegeta stood and stretched his arms above his head, waiting for his ‘go ahead’ to leave. Goku was wrapping Vejita back into his blanket when the prince finally spoke.

“If I am no longer needed...” he began.

“Actually,” Goku replied, “I do have something to discuss with you.”

Vegeta raised an eyebrow in interest, watching as Goku placed the baby over his shoulder and walked to the book shelf. From within a book he pulled two sheets of cream-colored paper.

“I filled out the birth certificates,” the younger man said, hoping his unease didn’t carry in his voice. “I just need you to sign them,”

“How is this a discussion?” Vegeta asked, taking the parchments and looking them over. The names appearing at the top of each paper were Son Ninji KhunNoh and Son Vejita KhunNoh.

The bottom of the certificates proclaimed:

Vegeta grimaced.

“I see you have an issue,” Goku said patiently, sitting back on the sofa. “Let’s hear it.”

The prince remained quiet, staring at the papers in his hands.

“...So this is what it looks like in human script...” he said absently when he finally spoke. Goku nodded.

“Yep. Daikkon helped me. He gave a long explanation of Saiyan characters and language... He seemed a little hesitant to help me... a lot hesitant, actually... I don’t think he thought you’d approve.”

“I don’t,” Vegeta mumbled. Goku frowned. “But I see you wrote it in ink, so what can I say? I need a pen.”

Goku’s frown slipped away, replaced by a wide grin.

“There is one on that little desk there.”

Goku watched happily as Vegeta crossed to Chi Chi’s writing desk, selected a pen and placed his signature of each sheet. He left the items there as he turned back to his fellow Saiyan.

“Anything else, Kakkarot?” he asked wryly.

“Yeah,” Goku smiled, holding out the child. “Kiss your son.”

Vegeta stood still a moment, debating with himself on whether or not he should comply. Either way was bad for him: deny his child affection, or take orders from a third class.

The prince crossed to the child, planting a kiss on his broad forehead.

“Goodbye, Kakkarot,” he said, turning to the door.

“Bye, Vegeta,” the other Saiyan returned. “See you tonight.”

Vegeta frowned, groaning inwardly as he thought about that. Yes, tonight they would tell the children that they were to combine households. They would all, of course, be thrilled and excited about the arrangement.

As he walked out into the cool summer night, he pondered exactly how it would be to live with the Son family. It was inconvenient, yes, but he could no longer pinpoint why it would be bad. He and Kakkarot were friends. The woman and Kakkarot were friends. The children were friends. Kakkarot’s wife was an excellent cook...

A stray memory surfaced in Vegeta’s mind as he walked. He was barely four, if that, being held by a woman as his family sat around a table sharing a meal. His father was present, as was his grandmother and her shoume. Drinking, eating, laughing... a family... a clan... the Khun Noh.

A sour taste rose from his gut as he pressed the memory away. It saddened him that his wife felt this arrangement ‘Saiyan.’ Vegeta no longer had a clan. He had his family, and that was it. The ‘clan of Kings’ was no more.

He flew the rest of the distance home at a leisurely pace. When he reached Capsule Corp., he reached out with his senses to feel for the ki signatures within. The woman and the girl were asleep in his bed, Trunks and Goten were asleep in Trunks’ room and that simpering idiot of a second class appeared to be sleeping as well.

Vegeta started to climb the stairs to his room, but paused, turning back toward the living room. He moved down the hall into the den, crossing to Bulma’s desk. Behind the small office space there was a portrait of her with their children. His eyes scanned the perfectly painted image of his beautiful wife.

Vegeta reached out and swung the painting away from the wall, revealing a safe behind it. It was something Bulma said she had wanted since childhood. He turned the dial, inputting the numbers that corresponded to the date of his and Bulma’s first meeting. Only she could remember the exact date. Silly woman.

With a snap, the safe popped open and its hinges creaked as he pulled the door. Inside were important documents that the woman didn’t want to lose if something were to befall the house. She seemed to think the odds were high it would be an explosion.

Vegeta sorted through the papers until he found the telltale cream-colored sheets of paper. He took a deep breath before pulling them out of the safe. At the tops of the sheets were his children’s names: Trunks Briefs and Bulla Briefs. At the bottom, there were two signatures - both of which looked similar. One read Bulma Briefs and the other:

Vegeta.

Just Vegeta.

The prince sighed. He half expected his surname to be ‘Briefs’ on their family records. He was surprised to find himself... disappointed. But so what? He was clanless.

Vegeta replaced the papers into the safe before shutting the door, resetting the dial and closing the painting.

He returned through the living room and took the stairs up to his room.

Bulma was sleeping soundly, sprawled out on what half of the bed wasn’t occupied by the princess. Vegeta thought about picking his daughter up and moving her to her own bed, but instead he eased in beside his wife, pulling her into his arms.

“Hm?” Bulma moaned groggily, blinking at him. “What time?”

“Early,” Vegeta whispered. “Go back to sleep.” Bulma nodded, tucking her head against his throat and falling quickly back to sleep.

Vegeta knew that today was possibly going to be long and trying. So he wasted no more time bemoaning his dead heritage and joined his wife and daughter in slumber.


A/N: Well, I sure hope ya'll enjoyed this chapter. I need to give a big, HUGE Thanks to my beta for her tireless efforts. And another huge Thanks for those of you who continue to read, and those of you who continue to review. Sometimes I think: "God, they must be wondering when this is gonna end!". LOL. Not for a while, kids. I hope that you stay with me and I thank you, again, for reading! -B

Webtester01: Have I told you lately that I love you?? ^_^