Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unlikely Bond ❯ Negotiation ( Chapter 65 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: bdegrees 
More than sleep goes on in the middle of the night...
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / / Hentai / Drama / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 05.31.2007 | Pages: 8 | Words: 8.3K | Visits: 1.2K | Status: Work In Progress
More than sleep goes on in the middle of the night...
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / / Hentai / Drama / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 05.31.2007 | Pages: 8 | Words: 8.3K | Visits: 1.2K | Status: Work In Progress
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... ^-^
Warning: This chapter contains LEMON.
Vegeta strolled through the house, pausing to look into the dining room where Chi Chi and Bulma were drinking coffee and chatting. He continued on to the den, pausing again in the doorway to observe the scenethere.
Light from the TV was all that brightened the dark room. Trunks sat in the middle of the sofa, Goten lying on one side and Bulla on the other. Both of the younger Saiyans were sleeping soundly, their feet resting on the older teen’s lap. Trunks was watching the program, his hand resting on Goten’s ankle.
“Boy,” Vegeta spoke, gaining his son’s attention. “Come.”
Trunks nodded, gently situating his sister and friend so he could stand.
“Yes, Papa?” he asked, moving to his father’s side.
“I’m not interrupting your program?” Vegeta asked, as he turned and headed toward the opposite end of the house.
“Of course not,” Trunks answered, following. “Did... did you want to talk to me?”
Vegeta could detect the unease in his son’s tone and wondered about the cause.
“Is it unusual for a father to want to talk to his son?” The boy smiled.
“No, Dad.”
The teen followed his father to the nursery, his mind spinning as he considered what Vegeta could want to discuss.
Goku was in the babies’ room on the floor, the twins on a blanket in front of him.
“You’re not getting them worked up, are you, Uncle?” Trunks asked with a grin. Goku returned the smile, but he looked slightly forlorn.
“No, I’m just spending time with them.” He looked to the prince. “Are you going to put them down?”
“I’m sure I can handle it,” Vegeta told him. “You may go do as you please.”
“Okay...” The tall Saiyan leaned over to lay a kiss on each baby’s forehead before he stood. “Good night, guys,” he spoke to Vegeta and Trunks.
Trunks echoed the sentiment, and Vegeta gave a nod as Goku passed. The third class stopped to take one last look at the infants, who were now cuddling each other, before he turned and left the room.
“What’s wrong with him?” Trunks asked his father, once they were alone.
“He’s an idiot,” Vegeta replied shortly, leaning down to take Ninji into his arms. Trunks watched his father as he held the tiny Saiyan close to his throat, walking him over to the crib. Vegeta lay the sleepy infant down, tucked the pastel green blanket around the child, and turned back to his eldest son. “Care to help me with an experiment?” he asked.
“I’d be happy to. What is it?”
Vegeta didn’t respond as he picked up Vejita’s yellow blanket, kneeled down on the floor and wrapped the infant securely in the cloth. He stood then and approached Trunks.
“Your scent is the most like mine,” he explained, handing the blonde to his brother. “I am going to see if he will be content with the substitution.” Trunks looked down at the baby in his arms.
“So... you want me to hold him all night?” he asked, trying not to sound disrespectful.
“Of course not. I am simply trying to ascertain whether or not the child can understand that my presence does not have to be direct... You’re here because I told Kakkarot that I would not distress him. First, I will see if he can be content in another’s arms before I leave him in the crib.” Trunks nodded in understanding, sitting down in the rocking chair. Vegeta stood next to him, looking down upon them. “And... I wanted to talk to you.”
Trunks felt his muscles tense involuntarily.
“Yeah?” he asked, his eyes intent on his infant brother. The baby blinked slowly, his eyelids drooping as he fought off sleep.
“Yes,” Vegeta answered, pulling the ottoman close to the chair and sitting across from his sons. Trunks didn’t meet the older Saiyan’s eyes, instead focusing on the way his sable tail lay over one thigh, the end swinging calmly. “Your mother seems to think that you have a ‘special girl’ in your life,” he said with a smirk.
Trunks rolled his eyes.
“Why does Mom think that?”
Vegeta shrugs.
“Because she’s a woman, I guess,” he replied, lacing his fingers together and resting his forearms on his thighs. “She says your behavior implies you are courting someone.”
“Papa,” Trunks said, his heart aching aching from the deception, “it’s not what Mom thinks... there is no ‘special girl’.”
The prince repsonded evenly.
“I see.”
Vejita whined suddenly, drawing their attention. Vegeta reached out a hand to touch the baby’s cheek. The infant Saiyan's fussing calmed, his eyes closing as he gave a tiny sigh.
“Was I like this when I was a baby?” Trunks asked, changing the subject. Vegeta appeared thoughtful before answering.
“Yes. But you only wanted your mother. You cried whenever I approached you.” Trunks smiled.
“That changed,” he told his father. Vegeta stared at him a moment, silent. His expression moved from troubled to resigned in a fraction of a second. Trunks drew his brows together in concern.
Vegeta stood, reaching out to affectionately run his hand across Trunks’ lavender hair.
“I was not the father you deserved. You’re not the son I deserve...” His voice was low and firm as he continued. “But if there are higher powers in this universe, they were certainly smiling on me the day you were conceived.”
Trunks reached up and closed his hand around his father’s forearm.
“Thanks, Dad.”
Vegeta nodded and turned away, moved to the crib and looked down upon Ninji. The dark-haired baby was in a deep sleep. Trunks looked down at the baby in his arms.
“Do you think he might already be over the need to be held, but we just don’t know because we keep holding him?”
Vegeta shrugged.
“It’s possible. He didn’t cry last night. Kakkarot just brought him to me. And the night before... I believe was the same.” The prince frowned. “He actually has me trained.”
Trunks chuckled, hugging the baby close.
“Smart boy,” he murmured. Vegeta turned back to the boys and watched them carefully.
“So there isn’t a girl?” he asked. Trunks felt him stomach twist, and he shook his head.
“No, Papa,” he replied. Vegeta continued to watch him a moment before inquiring further.
“Why not?”
“Lots of reasons,” the teen replied, keeping his eyes downcast.
“Such as?” Vegeta prompted.
“Such as...” Trunks echoed. “... I never found a girl that I could really trust. Trust is important.” The prince nodded.
“Smart boy. But aren’t there hundreds of woman fighting to endear themselves to you?”
Trunks blushed.
“I... I get offers...” he replied modestly.
“Offers?” Vegeta sounded displeased. “What kind of offers?”
“You know,” Trunks continued. “I mean... some are innocent enough... asking me on dates and such...” The blush spread to color the tips of his ears. “Some are more... forward.” Vegeta frowned.
“Be very careful of those who attempt to give you their favor as quickly as they wish to win yours. And beware of those who try to use physical seduction to earn your emotional trust.”
Trunks nodded. He didn’t want to speculate on his father’s first hand experience with such advice.
“I am careful, Papa. Very careful. I have too many plans to waste my efforts on people I can’t trust.”
Vegeta smirked.
“That is the first time you’ve said something that reminded me of myself since you were eleven.” Trunks’ smile returned.
Vegeta walked back toward the rocker and looked down upon his sleeping son. Vejita appeared to be sleeping soundly, cuddled in his brother’s arms. Could it be that the child no longer needed to be held? Or was it that he just no longer cared if it was by Vegeta? That idea gave the prince a small pang of sadness.
“We’ll let him sleep a while longer before moving him to the crib, if you don’t mind staying?” Vegeta spoke to Trunks.
“Of course not. I enjoy spending time with you.” He just hoped they could avoid further talk of relationships. Trunks felt bad enough dodging the truth; he wasn’t sure he could outright lie if his father asked him if he was dating at all.
“I do as well,” Vegeta said, settling back down on the ottoman across from his sons. “We don’t spend enough time together. But I suppose you have more important things to do than train...”
“I know it seems bizarre, Papa,” Trunks grinned. “But there are other things we can do together besides train.”
Vegeta snorted.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Maybe we should take up fishing or something... Camping... I don’t know...”
The prince nodded. An excursion in the wild might be an excellent way to bond with the boy while he was still a boy.
“I wouldn’t be adverse to that,” he told his son. That response earned him a smile from the teen. The boy was letting him off far too easy, as far as Vegeta was concerned. He had quite a way to go to even attempt to make up to his eldest child all the things he should have done, but didn’t. “It might be a couple weeks before we can take an overnight trip.”
“It’s okay,” Trunks assured him. “My class schedule isn’t free enough for anything over a day, anyway. But any time we could get together would be great. Even if it’s just an afternoon.”
Vegeta nodded, watching his oldest son cuddle his youngest close, as if the blonde were his own. The words he had spoken to Kakkarot the day before had never felt more true than they did right now, looking upon his children. They were worth all his struggles and sacrifices.
It suddenly struck him how odd it was that he and Kakkarot had an almost total reversal in beliefs on this most recent trial. He had first berated and attacked the younger man for his positive feelings toward his condition, and now he was correcting his pessimistic view of the outcome.
Vegeta sat forward as the as the baby began to whine, letting his tail gently brush the infant’s cheek.
His initial reaction was wrong... of that he was now certain.
“You can put him in his crib now,” Vegeta told Trunks. “You need to get some sleep yourself.”
“I don’t mind,” Trunks replied. Vegeta gave a small shake of his head.
“No. I’ve taken up enough of your time today.”
Trunks gave a nod in return, rising to his feet and moving to place his brother in his crib.
“If you don’t have other plans,” the teen began tentatively, as he arranged the blanket lightly over the baby, “... I’d like to spend some time with you in the morning.”
“Certainly,” the prince replied, coming to his son’s side, watching as Trunks arranged the tiny baby on the mattress. “If you don’t sleep until noon.”
“I won’t. Good night, Papa.”
Trunks left the nursery and moved quickly through the house to his room. Goten was sitting in the bed, idly flipping through one of Trunks’ textbooks.
“I was about to give up on you,” he declared. “I was ready to call it a night when I got distracted by the ‘mammaries’.” He held the book up to show the anatomical drawings. Trunks grimaced and began to strip from his clothing. “Hey!” Goten said abruptly, halting Trunks as he was pulling the shirt over his head. Goten grinned. “Slow-ly.” It brought a smile to the older teen’s face as Goten laughed loudly. “How’re the babies?”
“Asleep,” Trunks replied, pulling on a pair of sleep pants and joining the other boy beneath the sheet. “Hopefully, Dad can sleep now, too...” He took a deep breath. “Speaking of --”
“Sleep?” Goten asked. “Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to conk out on you during the movie. That nap this afternoon just wasn’t enough.”
“No, that’s okay,” Trunks replied. “It’s just... you see...”
Goten frowned as he watched his friend fight for words.
“What is it?”
Trunks looked up into his friend’s dark eyes. He smiled.
“Nothing bad,” he assured, reaching out to ruffle Goten’s hair. “Don’t look like that.”
“You seem worried,” Goten explained. “I was afraid you figured out that I wrote in your book while you were gone.”
“What?”
Goten continued to chuckle as Trunks lay back on the bed. The younger teen scooted closer, propping his head on his hand to look down at the older boy.
“Just don’t let anyone borrow your book, that’s all I’m sayin’,” he suggested.
“Great,” Trunks replied, sighing. “It’s like ninth grade health class all over again!” Goten laughed harder from the memory, leaning his forehead against Trunks’ chest. Trunks moved his arm to place it around the other teen’s shoulder, holding him close. Goten’s laughter died down as he settled into Trunk’s embrace. Idly, he ran his hand over Trunks’ bare abdomen, his fingers skimming over the chiseled muscle.
Trunks sighed, closing his eyes.
“I have to tell my father,” he spoke suddenly. Goten’s hand stilled in its motion, and he was silent. Trunks opened his eyes and looked down at the other Saiyan, who was looking up at him. “Unless.... you don’t want me to. But... I feel bad keeping it from him.”
Goten gave a nod before laying his head back against Trunks’ chest.
“Do you think he’ll be mad?” he asked.
“I don’t think so. I already told you that he asked me once before if we were ‘close’... he said it was fine if we were.”
Goten took a deep breath, slipping his arm around Trunks’ waist.
“I just hope he hasn’t changed his mind.”
It had bothered her more that she thought it would to admit to Gohan that she and his father no longer would call Mt. Paozu home. Goku and Goten seemed to be adjusting just fine, but she wasn’t sure she could ever call this mechanized mansion ‘home’.
The kitchen was pitch dark, save the lighting strips near the baseboards and as she made her way out onto the cold tile floor, a buzzing sound whizzed past her head.
“May I assist you?”
“Get lost,” she hissed at the bot, pushing it out of her way with one hand.
“Good evening, Prince Vegeta! Shall I make you some coffee?”
Chi Chi growled, snatching up a tea kettle and swinging it at the domestic droid. She wasn't in the mood for this again.
“Go away!” she whispered hoarsely, trying to keep her tone low.
“For some reason,” a deep, rough voice spoke from the darkness, startling her, “that machine responds well to personal threats of bodily harm.”
Chi Chi turned quickly, her hand reaching out until it collided with the light switch. Vegeta was sitting at the dining room table, still in his day clothes, the receiving end of the nursery monitor on the table in front of him.
“I had no idea anyone was awake,” Chi Chi explained, “or I wouldn’t have come down to disturb you.”
“You are free to do as you please,” he replied dryly. “Pay me no mind.”
Chi Chi frowned.
“Are you being sarcastic?” she demanded, her eyes narrowing.
Vegeta’s eyebrows rose slightly, before returning toa neutral position.
“I see no need for that,” he replied simply. Chi Chi folded her arms over her chest, her nerves beginning to hum in anticipation of a verbal sparring match.
“I’m sorry that you don’t want us here, your highness,” she spoke tightly, trying to remain calm. “If you want us to leave, I don’t see why you can’t, at least, have the courage to speak up. I am doing this for my husband’s sake and, whether you believe it or not, your sake. And if you --”
Vegeta quickly raised his hand, silencing her without speaking a word. Chi Chi snapped her mouth shut, holding her breath as she waiting for his response.
Through the baby monitor came a restless whine, followed by the soft rustling of movement. The brief sound from the nursery was followed by a few seconds of silence before Vegeta lowered his hand and spoke.
“Continue,” he said. “Your highness.”
Chi Chi pressed her lips together, letting her breath out slowly through her nose. The two stared at each other a long, tense moment.
“Do you not want us here?” she asked directly. Vegeta leaned back in his chair, bringing his foot up to rest his ankle on the opposite knee.
“Would it make you feel better about wanting to leave if I said I didn't?” he asked, much to her surprise. “Am I now required to be a villain, instead of simply assumed to be one?”
Chi Chi was actually shocked by his answer. Who was this man she was talking to?
She ignored his question and turned back into the kitchen, picking up the tea kettle and placing it beneath the faucet. Vegeta smirked.
“Why can’t you have the courage to speak up about what you want?” he goaded. Chi Chi turned back, her voice a harsh whisper.
“Because I am not going to be the bad guy!” she hissed.
The prince’s smirk slowly melted into a scowl.
“I refuse to do what you expect, simply because you are afraid to act,” he told her. Chi Chi slammed the full kettle down on the stove.
“You refuse to do what you normally would, simply because it would be helpful to me!” she retorted hotly.
“And why should I have to say anything in order for you to tell Kakkarot or the woman how you truly feel about this arrangement?” he pressed, his body posture still relaxed and passive, even though his tone was stern.
Chi Chi frowned.
“...I don’t want to hurt Goku,” she admitted, watching the ceramic beneath the kettle begin to glow. “... I don’t want to add any more pain...”
Both were silent, listening to the infant monitor as another gentle cry emerged. Just as with the first time, the child gave nothing more than that.
Once the kettle began to whistle, Chi Chi filled two cups with tea and carried them to the dining room. She set one in front of the prince.
“Do you think he will sleep through tonight?” she asked, casually. Vegeta shrugged, taking gulp of the hot brew before setting the cup back on the saucer.
“He cried once just past one a.m.... but he settled back fairly quickly, and I put him back down...” Chi Chi nodded, looking out through the patio doors at the serenity of the moonlit yard. Vegeta finished his tea in one final gulp before he spoke again. “Once the child can sleep through the night on his own, there is no reason to... keep you here against your will,” he said.
Chi Chi looked down at the prince, who had his eyes on the electronic monitor. If he was successful in getting the child to sleep through the night... she could be home in a few days. The feeling of relief that swelled in her at the thought quickly deflated as a new idea surfaced.
“... That wouldn’t be fair to you, Vegeta,” she spoke quietly. Vegeta raised his eyes to hers, surprise momentarily flickering in their dark depths. “These are your children, too. And I can’t pretend, regardless of what our differences may be, that you have been anything other than a consistent, present father.” An unsettling tightness threatened to close her throat, but she took a deep breath and steeled her nerve. “You’re right, I’m not comfortable here. But how can I look myself in the mirror if I take your children from you?!”
Vegeta also took a measured breath before he replied.
“I see Kakkarot more than you do,” he pointed out. “Goten as well. And they did not live under this roof. Distance will not keep me from those children...” A hint of a smirk quirked the corner of his mouth. “I can fly.”
Chi Chi stared at him a moment in disbelief. Vegeta gave a toss of his head and turned his gaze to the ceiling.
“If the child can sleep alone, that is one problem solved,” he continued. “Once they are weaned, that’s two. If there are no objections, we can decide then what will be the most appropriate course of action for us all.”
Chi Chi gave a slow nod of agreement.
“That sounds reasonable,” she said.
“Good,” That single word was all Vegeta had time to say before a pitiful wail erupted from the receiver. Taking the device in hand, he left Chi Chi standing alone with her tea.
Chi Chi picked up the prince’s empty tea cup and carried it to the kitchen sink, wondering to herself if that conversation had actually just taken place. Could Vegeta really be a changed man? Or had he always been that man, and she had just refused to see it?
Suddenly exhausted, she turned off the lights and returned to her husband’s side. Goku didn’t move as she joined him in bed and pulled the covers over her chest.
Bulma said that they might be weaned in as little as four more weeks. Could she last that long? Would the next month be a trial she wouldn’t easily overcome? Or could the promise of home sustain her?
Four weeks.
Give or take, that would be the extent of the infants’ dependence on Kakkarot and increase their ability to exist independently of their parents. Bulma would have had her time to play ‘happy family’, and they could go back to the way they had been before: in their own homes with their own families... except for the twins, who would only have half of their family at a time...
Vegeta looked down at the child still sleeping in the crib, to the one snuggled on his shoulder. He truly believed that distance was a non-issue. Kakkarot and his mate could live on the other side of the globe, and it wouldn’t matter to him. It would be a minuscule feat for him accomplish.
Vejita made a sleepy, cooing sound and opened his tiny mouth in a yawn. Vegeta smiled at the little Saiyan, hugging him gently. In his astonishment over Bulma’s decision and his contemplation over how this would affect every member of their families, he never stopped to consider how he felt. Did he really not care if the twins lived elsewhere? He had fully admitted to himself that it was advantageous for Kakkarot and their sons to be living in his home, but didn’t he also want them to? He had learned, over time, that the fierce devotion and fondness he felt for his offspring was indeed love, and upon reflection, he wouldn’t have wanted Bulma to take Trunks or Bulla from him...
But he and Bulma were married, mated... he and Kakkarot were not.
The prince sighed, slowly pacing the floor of the room to settle his son. Once convinced of the child’s depth of sleep, he lay Vejita back beside his brother, tucking the blanket securely around him. Vegeta gave the infants one last look before picking up the monitor and leaving the room. Hopefully, Vejita could wait another two hours before waking, because at that time in the morning, he’d be Kakkarot’s responsibility.
When Vegeta reached his bedroom, he paused outside the door, feeling Bulma’s ki within. She was awake.
Curious, he pushed opened the door and went inside. Bulma was sitting on the window seat beside the balcony, dressed in a nightshirt. She held her cigarette pack in one hand, slowly turning it end over end. Vegeta raised an eyebrow.
“I thought we agreed a long time ago,” he began, “that you wouldn’t smoke in the bedroom if I wouldn’t leave bloody clothes on the carpet.”
Bulma smirked, setting the pack down.
“I wasn’t smoking,” she replied, “I was waiting. It would seem if I want to get three minutes alone with you, I have to be up between two and four a.m.”
Vegeta didn’t respond. Instead he crossed to his side of the bed and began to undress. Bulma watched him quietly a moment.
“Can I ask you something?”
Vegeta shrugged, pulling back the sheet and sitting on the side of the bed. Bulma stood and moved to stand in front of him. She rested her hands lightly on his broad, bare shoulders.
“Are you mad at me?” she asked. Vegeta grimaced as if pained.
“What?” he returned, but continued before she could repeat herself. “Don’t be ridiculous. If I were angry with you, you’d know.”
Bulma sighed.
“I know that when you’re angry, I never see you and you sleep during the day, instead of at night.”
“I’m sleeping during the day because I am up with the child at night,” he stated. “Now unless there is something you’ve done that I just haven’t discovered, there is no reason for me to be angry.” The prince situated the pillows behind himself and lay back. Bulma crossed her arms and remained standing at his side.
“You’re not mad that I asked the Sons to come live with us?” she asked.
“While forcing Kakkarot’s brood to give up their home in favor of ours was particularly extreme and obnoxious, it doesn’t instill a great anger in me,” he remarked. “What evidence do you have that I am displeased in some way?”
It was Bulma’s turn to grimace, and she shifted her weight uneasily.
“I... I never see you...” she admitted lamely. “And consciously I realize and understand that it’s because you have two new babies... it’s just... I know you aren’t thrilled with Chi Chi and Goku living here, and Yamucha seems to think that it’s such a legendarily bad move --”
“And we know his record for making good decisions,” Vegeta snorted. Bulma rolled her eyes.
“It was mutual,” she said. Vegeta smirked.
“So you say...”
“I have never been dumped in my life!” she declared. “I couldn’t keep you away...” She reached down and ran her hand gently down the side of his face. “Tired?”
“Aren’t you?”
Bulma watched him a moment, torn between letting her husband sleep or sharing a long overdue act of intimacy.
“Yes, I am,” she admitted, crossing to her side of the bed and settling in beside him. Vegeta situated the monitor on the nightstand as she cuddled close to him, resting her head on his chest.
“How’s Veji?” she asked.
“Vejita is fine,” he replied tightly. “He’s only woken twice.”
“So he’ll settle down soon,” she commented cheerfully. “Much sooner than Bulla ever did.” And Vejita sleeping through the night meant Vegeta sleeping through the night.
“We shall see,” the prince responded, looking to the monitor next to his bed. “This is just the first night...”
Bulma pulled Vegeta’s arm around her, and he held her tightly against him. Vegeta tilted his head down, running his cheek against her soft, teal hair.
“Woman,” he breathed, “I can’t read your mind, and I don’t have the time for a bath... why don’t you just tell me what you are thinking?”
Bulma closed her eyes and considered the question before leaning up to look into his face. She could be coy, but she was too tired to be anything but direct.
“We haven’t made love in weeks.”
Vegeta raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t expecting that.
“I thought something was going horribly, horribly wrong,” he mused, gently brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. He leaned up to press his lips against hers, feeling her relax against him. That is when the thought struck him. “Is that why you thought I was angry? You think I would withhold physical intimacy from you as a punishment? That I would deny you?”
“Of course not!” she exclaimed, adding in a slightly less convincing tone: “I mean... consciously I know that...”
He smirked.
“You think I would deny myself?”
She chuckled, rolling her eyes. Vegeta grimaced.
“I apologize if I have neglected you --”
“Don’t. I know you have been busy with the boys and Bulla. It’s not like I need it every day.”
“You don’t?” he teased.
“Hey!” she snapped, giving him a playful punch in the arm. Vegeta caught her hand before it struck, and he grinned at her.
“You know how combat in the bedroom excites me.”
Bulma returned the leering smile.
“Yes, I do.”
Vegeta kissed her again, pulling her leg over his before rolling to pin her beneath his body. Bulma enthusiastically returned the kiss, her hands sliding over his muscular arms and shoulders before delving into his soft, thick hair. The prince gave an appreciative moan as she raked her fingers across his scalp. Vegeta shifted his weight, settling comfortably between Bulma’s thighs, and their kissing became deeper and more deliberate.
Vegeta leaned his weight on his forearms so he could look down upon his wife. Bulma brought her hands to his face, gently tracing the defined lines of his features. Vegeta closed his eyes, focusing on the way her fingertips brushed across his forehead, his jaw, his lips.
“My handsome prince...” she whispered.
Vegeta smiled, his eyes glimmering with a hint of mischief.
“You needn’t flatter me, woman,” he spoke huskily. “Nothing can distract me now. “
“We don’t have to make love if you’re tired,” she told him, while pressing her pelvis into his. “I just want you to hold me.”
“Even when we are miles apart,” he told her, tilting his face closer to hers, “I hold you every night in my mind.” Her entire body seemed to relax, as she released a sigh of awe from his uncharacteristically romantic words. Vegeta sneered. “But since you brought it up... I’m now in the mood to fuck.”
Bulma’s laughter was muffled by his mouth as he once again claimed her lips, his hands slipping beneath her night shirt to lift the garment up her torso. She was no longer tired: Vegeta had her undivided attention.
Bulma shuddered, feeling the silky fur of Vegeta’s tail slide along her thigh as they continued their deeply intense kissing. Her muscles twitched at each flickering tickle the sable appendage made across her skin as it wound it way up to her hip, tracing the hem of her panties and causing her to moan.
Vegeta shed his feelings of fatigue just as quickly, as he focused on the sensation of their connecting flesh, and the emotion in their bond. It had been too long. Far too long for them.
Bulma reluctantly broke from their kiss in order to pull her nightshirt over her head. Vegeta took the cloth from her and tossed it to the floor, returning his hand to draw his fingers lightly across her breast. Bulma inhaled sharply, shivering from the feather soft touch before melting beneath him as his manipulations became firmer, kneading strokes.
The prince’s tail thumped the bed impatiently and coiled itself back around Bulma’s hip, dipping beneath her silky panties and tugging the tiny garment down. Bulma giggled at the way Vegeta looked down between them, as if the tail had a mind of its own.
“I like the way he thinks,” she stated with a grin. Vegeta returned the amused smile, shifting his position to help rid his wife of the last piece of clothing she wore. His boxers soon joined the other articles on the floor by the bed.
Vegeta ran his hand through Bulma’s hair as he settled back over her, looking into her eyes. In the commotion of the past weeks, he had seen very little of the woman. It was nice to havetime alone with her. He would have to make more of an effort, especially when the children became big enough to train.
Bulma wrapped her legs around Vegeta’s hips as he slowly entered her. She closed her eyes and sighed softly, lost in the hypnotically sensual rhythm of her husband’s thrusts. Vegeta lowered his mouth to gently kiss along the smooth expanse of Bulma’s exposed throat, laving his tongue over her steady, beating pulse. A quiet purr rumbled in his chest as she tightened her embrace around him, pulling him closer. The soft moans and gasps that slipped from her lips were music to his ears.
Bulma couldn’t get enough of this man. She had been waiting for him to return, wondering whether or not Yamucha’s words might have been true. Was it simply her desire to keep the status quo for herself that motivated her decisions? Could it be that she, under the guise of concern for others, was only concerned with herself? She didn't think so. She truly believed she was working for his best interest... she wanted to believe it. But now she was being treated to the sensual feast that was Vegeta, and even these nagging thoughts were momentarily quiet.
“Vegeta,” Bulma whispered, her muscles beginning to tremble as the sensation of her impending orgasm began to build. Her fingers gripped the flesh of the prince’s back, and he held her close to him, rolling his hips each time their bodies pressed together. She wanted him to move faster, harder... the slow, languid thrusts kept her hovering just near the brink of completion. “Ohh...”
Vegeta leaned up, looking down at the beauty beneath him, his lips parted slightly as he watched the emotions that shimmered in her eyes.
“...I ... I love you,” he spoke, enjoying the smile he received in reply. Bulma didn’t get a chance to speak the sentiment in return, for his mouth once again commanded hers. She moaned into the kiss as the frequency of his thrusts increased enough to drive her to climax, her body bowing against his from the intensity before relaxing back into the cool sheets. Vegeta was soon after sated himself, and he withdrew, but continued to gently kiss his mate as the racing of their hearts calmed. He moved to lie at her side, keeping her in his arms.
“You owe me a fuck,” Bulma said with a sleepy yawn. “... ‘cause that was making love...”
“My mistake,” the prince admitted, brushing his lips against her forehead. “I will definitely try harder next time.”
“Mmm...” was the last thing Bulma replied before drifting off to sleep. Vegeta closed his eyes as well, his own consciousness beginning to slip when a cry sounded from the infant monitor beside the bed. He reached out and lowered the volume to keep it from waking his wife. He waited a moment, listening for the sound to return.
Another pitiful whine emerged from the receiver and was followed by a hearty wail. Vegeta sighed, dutifully rising from the bed, snapping up the monitor and his boxers from the floor, pulling them on as he left the room.
He was halfway to the nursery when a new sound joined the first.
“Shhhh... there now... I’m here.” Vegeta paused upon hearing Kakkarot’s voice speaking soothingly to the fussing child. “You don’t need to wake your daddy. He needs to sleep, too.”
It surprised Vegeta that he smiled. Giving a shake of his head, he continued into the opposite wing of the house that contained the babies’ room. Goku was just settling into the rocking chair with Vejita in his arms.
“Sorry you were bothered,” Goku spoke quietly. “I was already up.”
“No bother,” Vegeta replied, crossing to stand at the other Saiyan’s side. The blonde baby was now happily cooing and smiling at his parents. Goku wrapped the blanket around him and snuggled the infant close. “You’re spoiling him,” Vegeta said dryly, kneeling down to be closer to his son. The baby’s dark eyes stared evenly back at him. “I was trying to get him to sleep through the entire night alone.”
“I know... I just...” Goku suddenly focused on the prince’s appearance, struck with the memory of the last time he had encountered the older Saiyan with a similar scent. “Um... you can go back to doing... whatever it was you were doing.”
“Falling asleep,” Vegeta informed him, letting the tiny child grasp at his hand. “I wanted to make sure he was well before I did that.”
“We’ll be okay,” Goku assured him. “I need to feed them soon anyway. And it seems that it’s easier for me to get away with sleeping during the day than you. Someone is always bothering you for your time.”
“Ironic,” Vegeta stated, watching his son’s tiny hands on his.
“Vegeta,” Goku spoke hesitantly. Vegeta turned his gaze up toward the third class. “I can’t thank you enough... for trying to let us be a family... I feel that every day I get to see a little bit more of the man you were meant to be... leader of the Saiyans... King of our people.”
Vegeta frowned, rising to his feet.
“I was meant for nothing.” he said, his voice quieter than he expected. “But I have learned that I can become something... and we are family because you have treated me as family; friends because you have treated me as a friend. Thank me for nothing.”
Goku shook his head.
“Can I thank you, at least, for not throwing us out?” he said with a grin, hoping to raise the prince’s spirits from where he has inadvertently lowered them.
“We’ll see how the rest of this month goes,” he replied. Before turning from the room, the prince rested his hand for a fraction of a second on Goku’s shoulder. “Good night, Kakkarot.”
Goku smiled.
“’Night, Vegeta.”
Bulla headed to the nursery first thing upon waking. She tapped lightly on the door, not wanting to startle her father if he was inside. To her surprise, Goku called through to her instead.
“Come in!”
Bulla pushed open the door and smiled at the other Saiyan. Goku was settled in the rocking chair, Vejita sleeping in his lap and Ninji over one shoulder. Goku smiled in return.
“Good morning, Bulla,” he greeted.
“Morning,” she returned. “I just wanted to see the babies. Are you done feeding them?”
“Yep,” he answered, as he continued to pat the dark haired twin gently on the back. “It will be time for our breakfast soon.”
“Aunt Chi Chi said she’d make French toast today,” the pre-teen told him as she twisted Vejita’s blonde, pointy hair into a curl. “I usually order it from the bots, but hers is much better.”
Goku smiled.
“You like Chi Chi’s cooking?” he asked.
“Yeah. My grandpa used to cook for me, and it reminds me of his cooking. He could only make a few things though, but they were always really tasty.”
“Do you miss them living here?” Goku inquired. Bulla shrugged, her eyes focused on her brother.
“Yeah... I can still see them whenever I want... but it’s different when they are just here.” She shrugged again, her mouth twisting into a grimace. “But Grandpa likes the quiet of the beach house, and it’s not so big.”
Goku nodded. She looked up at him and smiled.
“I’m glad you are here now, Uncle Goku,” she told him. “Even though I could see you whenever I wanted, it’s different with you here. I like it.” Goku returned the smile.
“Me too, sweetie.”
He reached out to ruffle her already sleep-disheveled hair. Bulla laughed, combing her fingers through her teal locks to tame them.
“I’ll see you at breakfast.” she said, turning from him and moving into the hall. She took a leisurely stroll through the east wing, stopping at the door to Trunks' suite. She could hear voices on the other side, so she knew that the boys were awake.
“Trunks?” she called. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah!” came her brother’s reply. Happily, she opened the door and entered the sitting room. Goten was lounging on the sofa, and the older teen was standing in the middle of the room. Bulla examined his appearance.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“I’m going out with Dad for a bit,” he replied.
“Oh.” She turned to the younger boy. “You too?”
“Nope,” Goten answered. “I think I’ll sit this one out.”
“Are you gonna spar?” Bulla asked her brother excitedly.
“No,” Trunks laughed lightly. “We’re going to... meditate.”
“Oh.” She appeared crestfallen at the answer. “That’s not as fun. But it will help you when you want to grow your tail back!” She turned to Goten. “Papa says I’m really close to testing my mental strength.”
“Wow,” he remarked. “That means you get to grow a tail for that, hm?” Bulla nodded.
“I’ve gotta go,” Trunks spoke, interrupting them. “I’ll see you two later.” Bulla missed the looked that passed between the teens before Trunks left Goten and her alone.
“So...” she began, sitting on the end of the sofa. “What are you doing today?”
“Well,” the teen responded, sitting up, “after breakfast I was just going to goof off a bit. Then at around eleven or so, your big brother and I are going to the beach. After that, I gotta work.” Bulla smiled.
“Can I go to the beach with you?” she asked. “I just got a new swim suit.”
Goten gave the idea a bit of thought before replying. It wasn’t as if he and Trunks would be showing any public displays of affection while they were out.
“Of course you can, sport,” he said. “We’d be happy to have you hang out with us.
“Cool,” she beamed happily. “I’m gonna go get dressed. You want to play video games until Trunks gets back?”
“Sure,” he agreed, standing as she did. He watched the young princess rush from the room before turning to the bedroom to get dressed himself. He wasn’t exactly in the mood for video games or anything else for that matter, but he needed something to keep his mind off the conversation that Trunks was having with his father...
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... ^-^
Warning: This chapter contains LEMON.
Unlikely Bond
Chapter 65
Negotiation
The rest of the afternoon was quiet at Capsule Corp. The rain varied in its intensity, but never truly let up. Vegeta and Goten spent several good hours in the gravity room, leaving Trunks to spend his afternoon studying alone. Goku sat out of the training as well, spending the time being amused by Gohan’s interaction with the youngest two boys in the family. By evening, the downpour was moderate, but showed no signs of stopping.Chapter 65
Negotiation
Vegeta strolled through the house, pausing to look into the dining room where Chi Chi and Bulma were drinking coffee and chatting. He continued on to the den, pausing again in the doorway to observe the scenethere.
Light from the TV was all that brightened the dark room. Trunks sat in the middle of the sofa, Goten lying on one side and Bulla on the other. Both of the younger Saiyans were sleeping soundly, their feet resting on the older teen’s lap. Trunks was watching the program, his hand resting on Goten’s ankle.
“Boy,” Vegeta spoke, gaining his son’s attention. “Come.”
Trunks nodded, gently situating his sister and friend so he could stand.
“Yes, Papa?” he asked, moving to his father’s side.
“I’m not interrupting your program?” Vegeta asked, as he turned and headed toward the opposite end of the house.
“Of course not,” Trunks answered, following. “Did... did you want to talk to me?”
Vegeta could detect the unease in his son’s tone and wondered about the cause.
“Is it unusual for a father to want to talk to his son?” The boy smiled.
“No, Dad.”
The teen followed his father to the nursery, his mind spinning as he considered what Vegeta could want to discuss.
Goku was in the babies’ room on the floor, the twins on a blanket in front of him.
“You’re not getting them worked up, are you, Uncle?” Trunks asked with a grin. Goku returned the smile, but he looked slightly forlorn.
“No, I’m just spending time with them.” He looked to the prince. “Are you going to put them down?”
“I’m sure I can handle it,” Vegeta told him. “You may go do as you please.”
“Okay...” The tall Saiyan leaned over to lay a kiss on each baby’s forehead before he stood. “Good night, guys,” he spoke to Vegeta and Trunks.
Trunks echoed the sentiment, and Vegeta gave a nod as Goku passed. The third class stopped to take one last look at the infants, who were now cuddling each other, before he turned and left the room.
“What’s wrong with him?” Trunks asked his father, once they were alone.
“He’s an idiot,” Vegeta replied shortly, leaning down to take Ninji into his arms. Trunks watched his father as he held the tiny Saiyan close to his throat, walking him over to the crib. Vegeta lay the sleepy infant down, tucked the pastel green blanket around the child, and turned back to his eldest son. “Care to help me with an experiment?” he asked.
“I’d be happy to. What is it?”
Vegeta didn’t respond as he picked up Vejita’s yellow blanket, kneeled down on the floor and wrapped the infant securely in the cloth. He stood then and approached Trunks.
“Your scent is the most like mine,” he explained, handing the blonde to his brother. “I am going to see if he will be content with the substitution.” Trunks looked down at the baby in his arms.
“So... you want me to hold him all night?” he asked, trying not to sound disrespectful.
“Of course not. I am simply trying to ascertain whether or not the child can understand that my presence does not have to be direct... You’re here because I told Kakkarot that I would not distress him. First, I will see if he can be content in another’s arms before I leave him in the crib.” Trunks nodded in understanding, sitting down in the rocking chair. Vegeta stood next to him, looking down upon them. “And... I wanted to talk to you.”
Trunks felt his muscles tense involuntarily.
“Yeah?” he asked, his eyes intent on his infant brother. The baby blinked slowly, his eyelids drooping as he fought off sleep.
“Yes,” Vegeta answered, pulling the ottoman close to the chair and sitting across from his sons. Trunks didn’t meet the older Saiyan’s eyes, instead focusing on the way his sable tail lay over one thigh, the end swinging calmly. “Your mother seems to think that you have a ‘special girl’ in your life,” he said with a smirk.
Trunks rolled his eyes.
“Why does Mom think that?”
Vegeta shrugs.
“Because she’s a woman, I guess,” he replied, lacing his fingers together and resting his forearms on his thighs. “She says your behavior implies you are courting someone.”
“Papa,” Trunks said, his heart aching aching from the deception, “it’s not what Mom thinks... there is no ‘special girl’.”
The prince repsonded evenly.
“I see.”
Vejita whined suddenly, drawing their attention. Vegeta reached out a hand to touch the baby’s cheek. The infant Saiyan's fussing calmed, his eyes closing as he gave a tiny sigh.
“Was I like this when I was a baby?” Trunks asked, changing the subject. Vegeta appeared thoughtful before answering.
“Yes. But you only wanted your mother. You cried whenever I approached you.” Trunks smiled.
“That changed,” he told his father. Vegeta stared at him a moment, silent. His expression moved from troubled to resigned in a fraction of a second. Trunks drew his brows together in concern.
Vegeta stood, reaching out to affectionately run his hand across Trunks’ lavender hair.
“I was not the father you deserved. You’re not the son I deserve...” His voice was low and firm as he continued. “But if there are higher powers in this universe, they were certainly smiling on me the day you were conceived.”
Trunks reached up and closed his hand around his father’s forearm.
“Thanks, Dad.”
Vegeta nodded and turned away, moved to the crib and looked down upon Ninji. The dark-haired baby was in a deep sleep. Trunks looked down at the baby in his arms.
“Do you think he might already be over the need to be held, but we just don’t know because we keep holding him?”
Vegeta shrugged.
“It’s possible. He didn’t cry last night. Kakkarot just brought him to me. And the night before... I believe was the same.” The prince frowned. “He actually has me trained.”
Trunks chuckled, hugging the baby close.
“Smart boy,” he murmured. Vegeta turned back to the boys and watched them carefully.
“So there isn’t a girl?” he asked. Trunks felt him stomach twist, and he shook his head.
“No, Papa,” he replied. Vegeta continued to watch him a moment before inquiring further.
“Why not?”
“Lots of reasons,” the teen replied, keeping his eyes downcast.
“Such as?” Vegeta prompted.
“Such as...” Trunks echoed. “... I never found a girl that I could really trust. Trust is important.” The prince nodded.
“Smart boy. But aren’t there hundreds of woman fighting to endear themselves to you?”
Trunks blushed.
“I... I get offers...” he replied modestly.
“Offers?” Vegeta sounded displeased. “What kind of offers?”
“You know,” Trunks continued. “I mean... some are innocent enough... asking me on dates and such...” The blush spread to color the tips of his ears. “Some are more... forward.” Vegeta frowned.
“Be very careful of those who attempt to give you their favor as quickly as they wish to win yours. And beware of those who try to use physical seduction to earn your emotional trust.”
Trunks nodded. He didn’t want to speculate on his father’s first hand experience with such advice.
“I am careful, Papa. Very careful. I have too many plans to waste my efforts on people I can’t trust.”
Vegeta smirked.
“That is the first time you’ve said something that reminded me of myself since you were eleven.” Trunks’ smile returned.
Vegeta walked back toward the rocker and looked down upon his sleeping son. Vejita appeared to be sleeping soundly, cuddled in his brother’s arms. Could it be that the child no longer needed to be held? Or was it that he just no longer cared if it was by Vegeta? That idea gave the prince a small pang of sadness.
“We’ll let him sleep a while longer before moving him to the crib, if you don’t mind staying?” Vegeta spoke to Trunks.
“Of course not. I enjoy spending time with you.” He just hoped they could avoid further talk of relationships. Trunks felt bad enough dodging the truth; he wasn’t sure he could outright lie if his father asked him if he was dating at all.
“I do as well,” Vegeta said, settling back down on the ottoman across from his sons. “We don’t spend enough time together. But I suppose you have more important things to do than train...”
“I know it seems bizarre, Papa,” Trunks grinned. “But there are other things we can do together besides train.”
Vegeta snorted.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Maybe we should take up fishing or something... Camping... I don’t know...”
The prince nodded. An excursion in the wild might be an excellent way to bond with the boy while he was still a boy.
“I wouldn’t be adverse to that,” he told his son. That response earned him a smile from the teen. The boy was letting him off far too easy, as far as Vegeta was concerned. He had quite a way to go to even attempt to make up to his eldest child all the things he should have done, but didn’t. “It might be a couple weeks before we can take an overnight trip.”
“It’s okay,” Trunks assured him. “My class schedule isn’t free enough for anything over a day, anyway. But any time we could get together would be great. Even if it’s just an afternoon.”
Vegeta nodded, watching his oldest son cuddle his youngest close, as if the blonde were his own. The words he had spoken to Kakkarot the day before had never felt more true than they did right now, looking upon his children. They were worth all his struggles and sacrifices.
It suddenly struck him how odd it was that he and Kakkarot had an almost total reversal in beliefs on this most recent trial. He had first berated and attacked the younger man for his positive feelings toward his condition, and now he was correcting his pessimistic view of the outcome.
Vegeta sat forward as the as the baby began to whine, letting his tail gently brush the infant’s cheek.
His initial reaction was wrong... of that he was now certain.
“You can put him in his crib now,” Vegeta told Trunks. “You need to get some sleep yourself.”
“I don’t mind,” Trunks replied. Vegeta gave a small shake of his head.
“No. I’ve taken up enough of your time today.”
Trunks gave a nod in return, rising to his feet and moving to place his brother in his crib.
“If you don’t have other plans,” the teen began tentatively, as he arranged the blanket lightly over the baby, “... I’d like to spend some time with you in the morning.”
“Certainly,” the prince replied, coming to his son’s side, watching as Trunks arranged the tiny baby on the mattress. “If you don’t sleep until noon.”
“I won’t. Good night, Papa.”
Trunks left the nursery and moved quickly through the house to his room. Goten was sitting in the bed, idly flipping through one of Trunks’ textbooks.
“I was about to give up on you,” he declared. “I was ready to call it a night when I got distracted by the ‘mammaries’.” He held the book up to show the anatomical drawings. Trunks grimaced and began to strip from his clothing. “Hey!” Goten said abruptly, halting Trunks as he was pulling the shirt over his head. Goten grinned. “Slow-ly.” It brought a smile to the older teen’s face as Goten laughed loudly. “How’re the babies?”
“Asleep,” Trunks replied, pulling on a pair of sleep pants and joining the other boy beneath the sheet. “Hopefully, Dad can sleep now, too...” He took a deep breath. “Speaking of --”
“Sleep?” Goten asked. “Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to conk out on you during the movie. That nap this afternoon just wasn’t enough.”
“No, that’s okay,” Trunks replied. “It’s just... you see...”
Goten frowned as he watched his friend fight for words.
“What is it?”
Trunks looked up into his friend’s dark eyes. He smiled.
“Nothing bad,” he assured, reaching out to ruffle Goten’s hair. “Don’t look like that.”
“You seem worried,” Goten explained. “I was afraid you figured out that I wrote in your book while you were gone.”
“What?”
Goten continued to chuckle as Trunks lay back on the bed. The younger teen scooted closer, propping his head on his hand to look down at the older boy.
“Just don’t let anyone borrow your book, that’s all I’m sayin’,” he suggested.
“Great,” Trunks replied, sighing. “It’s like ninth grade health class all over again!” Goten laughed harder from the memory, leaning his forehead against Trunks’ chest. Trunks moved his arm to place it around the other teen’s shoulder, holding him close. Goten’s laughter died down as he settled into Trunk’s embrace. Idly, he ran his hand over Trunks’ bare abdomen, his fingers skimming over the chiseled muscle.
Trunks sighed, closing his eyes.
“I have to tell my father,” he spoke suddenly. Goten’s hand stilled in its motion, and he was silent. Trunks opened his eyes and looked down at the other Saiyan, who was looking up at him. “Unless.... you don’t want me to. But... I feel bad keeping it from him.”
Goten gave a nod before laying his head back against Trunks’ chest.
“Do you think he’ll be mad?” he asked.
“I don’t think so. I already told you that he asked me once before if we were ‘close’... he said it was fine if we were.”
Goten took a deep breath, slipping his arm around Trunks’ waist.
“I just hope he hasn’t changed his mind.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Chi Chi moved as quietly as possible into the kitchen. It was close to three a.m., and she still couldn’t fall into a deep enough sleep to keep her there.It had bothered her more that she thought it would to admit to Gohan that she and his father no longer would call Mt. Paozu home. Goku and Goten seemed to be adjusting just fine, but she wasn’t sure she could ever call this mechanized mansion ‘home’.
The kitchen was pitch dark, save the lighting strips near the baseboards and as she made her way out onto the cold tile floor, a buzzing sound whizzed past her head.
“May I assist you?”
“Get lost,” she hissed at the bot, pushing it out of her way with one hand.
“Good evening, Prince Vegeta! Shall I make you some coffee?”
Chi Chi growled, snatching up a tea kettle and swinging it at the domestic droid. She wasn't in the mood for this again.
“Go away!” she whispered hoarsely, trying to keep her tone low.
“For some reason,” a deep, rough voice spoke from the darkness, startling her, “that machine responds well to personal threats of bodily harm.”
Chi Chi turned quickly, her hand reaching out until it collided with the light switch. Vegeta was sitting at the dining room table, still in his day clothes, the receiving end of the nursery monitor on the table in front of him.
“I had no idea anyone was awake,” Chi Chi explained, “or I wouldn’t have come down to disturb you.”
“You are free to do as you please,” he replied dryly. “Pay me no mind.”
Chi Chi frowned.
“Are you being sarcastic?” she demanded, her eyes narrowing.
Vegeta’s eyebrows rose slightly, before returning toa neutral position.
“I see no need for that,” he replied simply. Chi Chi folded her arms over her chest, her nerves beginning to hum in anticipation of a verbal sparring match.
“I’m sorry that you don’t want us here, your highness,” she spoke tightly, trying to remain calm. “If you want us to leave, I don’t see why you can’t, at least, have the courage to speak up. I am doing this for my husband’s sake and, whether you believe it or not, your sake. And if you --”
Vegeta quickly raised his hand, silencing her without speaking a word. Chi Chi snapped her mouth shut, holding her breath as she waiting for his response.
Through the baby monitor came a restless whine, followed by the soft rustling of movement. The brief sound from the nursery was followed by a few seconds of silence before Vegeta lowered his hand and spoke.
“Continue,” he said. “Your highness.”
Chi Chi pressed her lips together, letting her breath out slowly through her nose. The two stared at each other a long, tense moment.
“Do you not want us here?” she asked directly. Vegeta leaned back in his chair, bringing his foot up to rest his ankle on the opposite knee.
“Would it make you feel better about wanting to leave if I said I didn't?” he asked, much to her surprise. “Am I now required to be a villain, instead of simply assumed to be one?”
Chi Chi was actually shocked by his answer. Who was this man she was talking to?
She ignored his question and turned back into the kitchen, picking up the tea kettle and placing it beneath the faucet. Vegeta smirked.
“Why can’t you have the courage to speak up about what you want?” he goaded. Chi Chi turned back, her voice a harsh whisper.
“Because I am not going to be the bad guy!” she hissed.
The prince’s smirk slowly melted into a scowl.
“I refuse to do what you expect, simply because you are afraid to act,” he told her. Chi Chi slammed the full kettle down on the stove.
“You refuse to do what you normally would, simply because it would be helpful to me!” she retorted hotly.
“And why should I have to say anything in order for you to tell Kakkarot or the woman how you truly feel about this arrangement?” he pressed, his body posture still relaxed and passive, even though his tone was stern.
Chi Chi frowned.
“...I don’t want to hurt Goku,” she admitted, watching the ceramic beneath the kettle begin to glow. “... I don’t want to add any more pain...”
Both were silent, listening to the infant monitor as another gentle cry emerged. Just as with the first time, the child gave nothing more than that.
Once the kettle began to whistle, Chi Chi filled two cups with tea and carried them to the dining room. She set one in front of the prince.
“Do you think he will sleep through tonight?” she asked, casually. Vegeta shrugged, taking gulp of the hot brew before setting the cup back on the saucer.
“He cried once just past one a.m.... but he settled back fairly quickly, and I put him back down...” Chi Chi nodded, looking out through the patio doors at the serenity of the moonlit yard. Vegeta finished his tea in one final gulp before he spoke again. “Once the child can sleep through the night on his own, there is no reason to... keep you here against your will,” he said.
Chi Chi looked down at the prince, who had his eyes on the electronic monitor. If he was successful in getting the child to sleep through the night... she could be home in a few days. The feeling of relief that swelled in her at the thought quickly deflated as a new idea surfaced.
“... That wouldn’t be fair to you, Vegeta,” she spoke quietly. Vegeta raised his eyes to hers, surprise momentarily flickering in their dark depths. “These are your children, too. And I can’t pretend, regardless of what our differences may be, that you have been anything other than a consistent, present father.” An unsettling tightness threatened to close her throat, but she took a deep breath and steeled her nerve. “You’re right, I’m not comfortable here. But how can I look myself in the mirror if I take your children from you?!”
Vegeta also took a measured breath before he replied.
“I see Kakkarot more than you do,” he pointed out. “Goten as well. And they did not live under this roof. Distance will not keep me from those children...” A hint of a smirk quirked the corner of his mouth. “I can fly.”
Chi Chi stared at him a moment in disbelief. Vegeta gave a toss of his head and turned his gaze to the ceiling.
“If the child can sleep alone, that is one problem solved,” he continued. “Once they are weaned, that’s two. If there are no objections, we can decide then what will be the most appropriate course of action for us all.”
Chi Chi gave a slow nod of agreement.
“That sounds reasonable,” she said.
“Good,” That single word was all Vegeta had time to say before a pitiful wail erupted from the receiver. Taking the device in hand, he left Chi Chi standing alone with her tea.
Chi Chi picked up the prince’s empty tea cup and carried it to the kitchen sink, wondering to herself if that conversation had actually just taken place. Could Vegeta really be a changed man? Or had he always been that man, and she had just refused to see it?
Suddenly exhausted, she turned off the lights and returned to her husband’s side. Goku didn’t move as she joined him in bed and pulled the covers over her chest.
Bulma said that they might be weaned in as little as four more weeks. Could she last that long? Would the next month be a trial she wouldn’t easily overcome? Or could the promise of home sustain her?
~~~~~~~~~~
Vegeta went directly to the crib once he was inside the nursery, taking the wailing infant into his arms. Once at his father’s shoulder, the blonde Saiyan gave a final shuddering gasp before contentedly curling himself close to Vegeta’s warmth.Four weeks.
Give or take, that would be the extent of the infants’ dependence on Kakkarot and increase their ability to exist independently of their parents. Bulma would have had her time to play ‘happy family’, and they could go back to the way they had been before: in their own homes with their own families... except for the twins, who would only have half of their family at a time...
Vegeta looked down at the child still sleeping in the crib, to the one snuggled on his shoulder. He truly believed that distance was a non-issue. Kakkarot and his mate could live on the other side of the globe, and it wouldn’t matter to him. It would be a minuscule feat for him accomplish.
Vejita made a sleepy, cooing sound and opened his tiny mouth in a yawn. Vegeta smiled at the little Saiyan, hugging him gently. In his astonishment over Bulma’s decision and his contemplation over how this would affect every member of their families, he never stopped to consider how he felt. Did he really not care if the twins lived elsewhere? He had fully admitted to himself that it was advantageous for Kakkarot and their sons to be living in his home, but didn’t he also want them to? He had learned, over time, that the fierce devotion and fondness he felt for his offspring was indeed love, and upon reflection, he wouldn’t have wanted Bulma to take Trunks or Bulla from him...
But he and Bulma were married, mated... he and Kakkarot were not.
The prince sighed, slowly pacing the floor of the room to settle his son. Once convinced of the child’s depth of sleep, he lay Vejita back beside his brother, tucking the blanket securely around him. Vegeta gave the infants one last look before picking up the monitor and leaving the room. Hopefully, Vejita could wait another two hours before waking, because at that time in the morning, he’d be Kakkarot’s responsibility.
When Vegeta reached his bedroom, he paused outside the door, feeling Bulma’s ki within. She was awake.
Curious, he pushed opened the door and went inside. Bulma was sitting on the window seat beside the balcony, dressed in a nightshirt. She held her cigarette pack in one hand, slowly turning it end over end. Vegeta raised an eyebrow.
“I thought we agreed a long time ago,” he began, “that you wouldn’t smoke in the bedroom if I wouldn’t leave bloody clothes on the carpet.”
Bulma smirked, setting the pack down.
“I wasn’t smoking,” she replied, “I was waiting. It would seem if I want to get three minutes alone with you, I have to be up between two and four a.m.”
Vegeta didn’t respond. Instead he crossed to his side of the bed and began to undress. Bulma watched him quietly a moment.
“Can I ask you something?”
Vegeta shrugged, pulling back the sheet and sitting on the side of the bed. Bulma stood and moved to stand in front of him. She rested her hands lightly on his broad, bare shoulders.
“Are you mad at me?” she asked. Vegeta grimaced as if pained.
“What?” he returned, but continued before she could repeat herself. “Don’t be ridiculous. If I were angry with you, you’d know.”
Bulma sighed.
“I know that when you’re angry, I never see you and you sleep during the day, instead of at night.”
“I’m sleeping during the day because I am up with the child at night,” he stated. “Now unless there is something you’ve done that I just haven’t discovered, there is no reason for me to be angry.” The prince situated the pillows behind himself and lay back. Bulma crossed her arms and remained standing at his side.
“You’re not mad that I asked the Sons to come live with us?” she asked.
“While forcing Kakkarot’s brood to give up their home in favor of ours was particularly extreme and obnoxious, it doesn’t instill a great anger in me,” he remarked. “What evidence do you have that I am displeased in some way?”
It was Bulma’s turn to grimace, and she shifted her weight uneasily.
“I... I never see you...” she admitted lamely. “And consciously I realize and understand that it’s because you have two new babies... it’s just... I know you aren’t thrilled with Chi Chi and Goku living here, and Yamucha seems to think that it’s such a legendarily bad move --”
“And we know his record for making good decisions,” Vegeta snorted. Bulma rolled her eyes.
“It was mutual,” she said. Vegeta smirked.
“So you say...”
“I have never been dumped in my life!” she declared. “I couldn’t keep you away...” She reached down and ran her hand gently down the side of his face. “Tired?”
“Aren’t you?”
Bulma watched him a moment, torn between letting her husband sleep or sharing a long overdue act of intimacy.
“Yes, I am,” she admitted, crossing to her side of the bed and settling in beside him. Vegeta situated the monitor on the nightstand as she cuddled close to him, resting her head on his chest.
“How’s Veji?” she asked.
“Vejita is fine,” he replied tightly. “He’s only woken twice.”
“So he’ll settle down soon,” she commented cheerfully. “Much sooner than Bulla ever did.” And Vejita sleeping through the night meant Vegeta sleeping through the night.
“We shall see,” the prince responded, looking to the monitor next to his bed. “This is just the first night...”
Bulma pulled Vegeta’s arm around her, and he held her tightly against him. Vegeta tilted his head down, running his cheek against her soft, teal hair.
“Woman,” he breathed, “I can’t read your mind, and I don’t have the time for a bath... why don’t you just tell me what you are thinking?”
Bulma closed her eyes and considered the question before leaning up to look into his face. She could be coy, but she was too tired to be anything but direct.
“We haven’t made love in weeks.”
Vegeta raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t expecting that.
“I thought something was going horribly, horribly wrong,” he mused, gently brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. He leaned up to press his lips against hers, feeling her relax against him. That is when the thought struck him. “Is that why you thought I was angry? You think I would withhold physical intimacy from you as a punishment? That I would deny you?”
“Of course not!” she exclaimed, adding in a slightly less convincing tone: “I mean... consciously I know that...”
He smirked.
“You think I would deny myself?”
She chuckled, rolling her eyes. Vegeta grimaced.
“I apologize if I have neglected you --”
“Don’t. I know you have been busy with the boys and Bulla. It’s not like I need it every day.”
“You don’t?” he teased.
“Hey!” she snapped, giving him a playful punch in the arm. Vegeta caught her hand before it struck, and he grinned at her.
“You know how combat in the bedroom excites me.”
Bulma returned the leering smile.
“Yes, I do.”
Vegeta kissed her again, pulling her leg over his before rolling to pin her beneath his body. Bulma enthusiastically returned the kiss, her hands sliding over his muscular arms and shoulders before delving into his soft, thick hair. The prince gave an appreciative moan as she raked her fingers across his scalp. Vegeta shifted his weight, settling comfortably between Bulma’s thighs, and their kissing became deeper and more deliberate.
Vegeta leaned his weight on his forearms so he could look down upon his wife. Bulma brought her hands to his face, gently tracing the defined lines of his features. Vegeta closed his eyes, focusing on the way her fingertips brushed across his forehead, his jaw, his lips.
“My handsome prince...” she whispered.
Vegeta smiled, his eyes glimmering with a hint of mischief.
“You needn’t flatter me, woman,” he spoke huskily. “Nothing can distract me now. “
“We don’t have to make love if you’re tired,” she told him, while pressing her pelvis into his. “I just want you to hold me.”
“Even when we are miles apart,” he told her, tilting his face closer to hers, “I hold you every night in my mind.” Her entire body seemed to relax, as she released a sigh of awe from his uncharacteristically romantic words. Vegeta sneered. “But since you brought it up... I’m now in the mood to fuck.”
Bulma’s laughter was muffled by his mouth as he once again claimed her lips, his hands slipping beneath her night shirt to lift the garment up her torso. She was no longer tired: Vegeta had her undivided attention.
Bulma shuddered, feeling the silky fur of Vegeta’s tail slide along her thigh as they continued their deeply intense kissing. Her muscles twitched at each flickering tickle the sable appendage made across her skin as it wound it way up to her hip, tracing the hem of her panties and causing her to moan.
Vegeta shed his feelings of fatigue just as quickly, as he focused on the sensation of their connecting flesh, and the emotion in their bond. It had been too long. Far too long for them.
Bulma reluctantly broke from their kiss in order to pull her nightshirt over her head. Vegeta took the cloth from her and tossed it to the floor, returning his hand to draw his fingers lightly across her breast. Bulma inhaled sharply, shivering from the feather soft touch before melting beneath him as his manipulations became firmer, kneading strokes.
The prince’s tail thumped the bed impatiently and coiled itself back around Bulma’s hip, dipping beneath her silky panties and tugging the tiny garment down. Bulma giggled at the way Vegeta looked down between them, as if the tail had a mind of its own.
“I like the way he thinks,” she stated with a grin. Vegeta returned the amused smile, shifting his position to help rid his wife of the last piece of clothing she wore. His boxers soon joined the other articles on the floor by the bed.
Vegeta ran his hand through Bulma’s hair as he settled back over her, looking into her eyes. In the commotion of the past weeks, he had seen very little of the woman. It was nice to havetime alone with her. He would have to make more of an effort, especially when the children became big enough to train.
Bulma wrapped her legs around Vegeta’s hips as he slowly entered her. She closed her eyes and sighed softly, lost in the hypnotically sensual rhythm of her husband’s thrusts. Vegeta lowered his mouth to gently kiss along the smooth expanse of Bulma’s exposed throat, laving his tongue over her steady, beating pulse. A quiet purr rumbled in his chest as she tightened her embrace around him, pulling him closer. The soft moans and gasps that slipped from her lips were music to his ears.
Bulma couldn’t get enough of this man. She had been waiting for him to return, wondering whether or not Yamucha’s words might have been true. Was it simply her desire to keep the status quo for herself that motivated her decisions? Could it be that she, under the guise of concern for others, was only concerned with herself? She didn't think so. She truly believed she was working for his best interest... she wanted to believe it. But now she was being treated to the sensual feast that was Vegeta, and even these nagging thoughts were momentarily quiet.
“Vegeta,” Bulma whispered, her muscles beginning to tremble as the sensation of her impending orgasm began to build. Her fingers gripped the flesh of the prince’s back, and he held her close to him, rolling his hips each time their bodies pressed together. She wanted him to move faster, harder... the slow, languid thrusts kept her hovering just near the brink of completion. “Ohh...”
Vegeta leaned up, looking down at the beauty beneath him, his lips parted slightly as he watched the emotions that shimmered in her eyes.
“...I ... I love you,” he spoke, enjoying the smile he received in reply. Bulma didn’t get a chance to speak the sentiment in return, for his mouth once again commanded hers. She moaned into the kiss as the frequency of his thrusts increased enough to drive her to climax, her body bowing against his from the intensity before relaxing back into the cool sheets. Vegeta was soon after sated himself, and he withdrew, but continued to gently kiss his mate as the racing of their hearts calmed. He moved to lie at her side, keeping her in his arms.
“You owe me a fuck,” Bulma said with a sleepy yawn. “... ‘cause that was making love...”
“My mistake,” the prince admitted, brushing his lips against her forehead. “I will definitely try harder next time.”
“Mmm...” was the last thing Bulma replied before drifting off to sleep. Vegeta closed his eyes as well, his own consciousness beginning to slip when a cry sounded from the infant monitor beside the bed. He reached out and lowered the volume to keep it from waking his wife. He waited a moment, listening for the sound to return.
Another pitiful whine emerged from the receiver and was followed by a hearty wail. Vegeta sighed, dutifully rising from the bed, snapping up the monitor and his boxers from the floor, pulling them on as he left the room.
He was halfway to the nursery when a new sound joined the first.
“Shhhh... there now... I’m here.” Vegeta paused upon hearing Kakkarot’s voice speaking soothingly to the fussing child. “You don’t need to wake your daddy. He needs to sleep, too.”
It surprised Vegeta that he smiled. Giving a shake of his head, he continued into the opposite wing of the house that contained the babies’ room. Goku was just settling into the rocking chair with Vejita in his arms.
“Sorry you were bothered,” Goku spoke quietly. “I was already up.”
“No bother,” Vegeta replied, crossing to stand at the other Saiyan’s side. The blonde baby was now happily cooing and smiling at his parents. Goku wrapped the blanket around him and snuggled the infant close. “You’re spoiling him,” Vegeta said dryly, kneeling down to be closer to his son. The baby’s dark eyes stared evenly back at him. “I was trying to get him to sleep through the entire night alone.”
“I know... I just...” Goku suddenly focused on the prince’s appearance, struck with the memory of the last time he had encountered the older Saiyan with a similar scent. “Um... you can go back to doing... whatever it was you were doing.”
“Falling asleep,” Vegeta informed him, letting the tiny child grasp at his hand. “I wanted to make sure he was well before I did that.”
“We’ll be okay,” Goku assured him. “I need to feed them soon anyway. And it seems that it’s easier for me to get away with sleeping during the day than you. Someone is always bothering you for your time.”
“Ironic,” Vegeta stated, watching his son’s tiny hands on his.
“Vegeta,” Goku spoke hesitantly. Vegeta turned his gaze up toward the third class. “I can’t thank you enough... for trying to let us be a family... I feel that every day I get to see a little bit more of the man you were meant to be... leader of the Saiyans... King of our people.”
Vegeta frowned, rising to his feet.
“I was meant for nothing.” he said, his voice quieter than he expected. “But I have learned that I can become something... and we are family because you have treated me as family; friends because you have treated me as a friend. Thank me for nothing.”
Goku shook his head.
“Can I thank you, at least, for not throwing us out?” he said with a grin, hoping to raise the prince’s spirits from where he has inadvertently lowered them.
“We’ll see how the rest of this month goes,” he replied. Before turning from the room, the prince rested his hand for a fraction of a second on Goku’s shoulder. “Good night, Kakkarot.”
Goku smiled.
“’Night, Vegeta.”
~~~~~~~~~~
The following morning showed no resemblance to the raining day before. The blue sky was cloudless, allowing the sun to shine brightly as soon as it began to rise.Bulla headed to the nursery first thing upon waking. She tapped lightly on the door, not wanting to startle her father if he was inside. To her surprise, Goku called through to her instead.
“Come in!”
Bulla pushed open the door and smiled at the other Saiyan. Goku was settled in the rocking chair, Vejita sleeping in his lap and Ninji over one shoulder. Goku smiled in return.
“Good morning, Bulla,” he greeted.
“Morning,” she returned. “I just wanted to see the babies. Are you done feeding them?”
“Yep,” he answered, as he continued to pat the dark haired twin gently on the back. “It will be time for our breakfast soon.”
“Aunt Chi Chi said she’d make French toast today,” the pre-teen told him as she twisted Vejita’s blonde, pointy hair into a curl. “I usually order it from the bots, but hers is much better.”
Goku smiled.
“You like Chi Chi’s cooking?” he asked.
“Yeah. My grandpa used to cook for me, and it reminds me of his cooking. He could only make a few things though, but they were always really tasty.”
“Do you miss them living here?” Goku inquired. Bulla shrugged, her eyes focused on her brother.
“Yeah... I can still see them whenever I want... but it’s different when they are just here.” She shrugged again, her mouth twisting into a grimace. “But Grandpa likes the quiet of the beach house, and it’s not so big.”
Goku nodded. She looked up at him and smiled.
“I’m glad you are here now, Uncle Goku,” she told him. “Even though I could see you whenever I wanted, it’s different with you here. I like it.” Goku returned the smile.
“Me too, sweetie.”
He reached out to ruffle her already sleep-disheveled hair. Bulla laughed, combing her fingers through her teal locks to tame them.
“I’ll see you at breakfast.” she said, turning from him and moving into the hall. She took a leisurely stroll through the east wing, stopping at the door to Trunks' suite. She could hear voices on the other side, so she knew that the boys were awake.
“Trunks?” she called. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah!” came her brother’s reply. Happily, she opened the door and entered the sitting room. Goten was lounging on the sofa, and the older teen was standing in the middle of the room. Bulla examined his appearance.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“I’m going out with Dad for a bit,” he replied.
“Oh.” She turned to the younger boy. “You too?”
“Nope,” Goten answered. “I think I’ll sit this one out.”
“Are you gonna spar?” Bulla asked her brother excitedly.
“No,” Trunks laughed lightly. “We’re going to... meditate.”
“Oh.” She appeared crestfallen at the answer. “That’s not as fun. But it will help you when you want to grow your tail back!” She turned to Goten. “Papa says I’m really close to testing my mental strength.”
“Wow,” he remarked. “That means you get to grow a tail for that, hm?” Bulla nodded.
“I’ve gotta go,” Trunks spoke, interrupting them. “I’ll see you two later.” Bulla missed the looked that passed between the teens before Trunks left Goten and her alone.
“So...” she began, sitting on the end of the sofa. “What are you doing today?”
“Well,” the teen responded, sitting up, “after breakfast I was just going to goof off a bit. Then at around eleven or so, your big brother and I are going to the beach. After that, I gotta work.” Bulla smiled.
“Can I go to the beach with you?” she asked. “I just got a new swim suit.”
Goten gave the idea a bit of thought before replying. It wasn’t as if he and Trunks would be showing any public displays of affection while they were out.
“Of course you can, sport,” he said. “We’d be happy to have you hang out with us.
“Cool,” she beamed happily. “I’m gonna go get dressed. You want to play video games until Trunks gets back?”
“Sure,” he agreed, standing as she did. He watched the young princess rush from the room before turning to the bedroom to get dressed himself. He wasn’t exactly in the mood for video games or anything else for that matter, but he needed something to keep his mind off the conversation that Trunks was having with his father...
~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Yes, yes... I know that it's been a while... but, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I am having a hard time finding free time to write these last couple weeks, but I am definitely writing every chance I get! Webtester01, those babies will be up before we know it! I hope you all stick around for that! Thanks a bunch for all of the feedback! -B