Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unlikely Bond ❯ Reaction ( Chapter 69 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: bdegrees 
Chi Chi's reaction to Goten's and Trunks' news... and what will Bulla's reaction be?
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / / Hentai / Drama / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 08.21.2007 | Pages: 10 | Words: 10.2K | Visits: 1.6K | Status: Work In Progress
Chi Chi's reaction to Goten's and Trunks' news... and what will Bulla's reaction be?
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / / Hentai / Drama / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 08.21.2007 | Pages: 10 | Words: 10.2K | Visits: 1.6K | 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... ^-^
“Dad?” Goten prompted, his mouth now dry from anticipation. His heart thumped loudly in his chest as he saw the tears welling up in his mother’s eyes. His voice broke with emotion as he spoke again. “Mom?”
Goten could feel Trunks lay a hand on his back, but for the moment, his entire world existed in the eyes of the woman in front of him.
Slowly, Chi Chi rose from her seat. The impact of her son’s words hit her hard, and the realization of what they were telling her was like an explosion of emotion. Her son, Son Goten, was in a relationship with...
...One of the richest, most successful men in the world! Trunks Briefs was not only responsible, but ambitious! A genius! And for two consecutive years voted the most eligible bachelor by ‘West City Woman’ Magazine. Her baby’s future was as sure as set!
Chi Chi pulled her youngest child into her arms, hugging him tightly.
“Oh, Goten,” she spoke in a choked whisper, “how can I not be happy for you?!”
Goten heaved a sigh of relief, returning his mother’s embrace.
“I’m glad,” he murmured.
Bulma laughed out loud, throwing her arms around her son.
“How long has this been going on?!” she demanded.
“Oh, about a month,” Trunks answered self-consciously.
“And you kept it secret?!” she exclaimed. “What on earth for?!”
“Because we didn’t want you to throw us a ‘coming out’ party,” Goten replied, not yet having let go of his mom. Bulma frowned, but the look on Trunks’ face confirmed that it was exactly the reason.
“Well,” Chi Chi stated, wiping at her eyes, “hasn’t this been an eventful night?” She smiled at her son and the young prince. Such an improvement over the silly, morally-questionable party girls Goten had gone out with in the past. Trunks was a decent, hard-working boy who had always been loyal and caring to her child. He could give Goten everything a mother could hope for her child. Chi Chi looked next to her husband, giving the same warm smile to him as well, which the tall Saiyan returned. Only Vegeta seemed to detect the concern in the other man’s demeanor by the way his tail twitched.
“I would suggest sleep,” the prince advised the teens. “When the princess returns tomorrow, she is owed an explanation.”
Trunks nodded, his expression sympathetic.
“I’ll talk to her.”
Bulma bit her lip, uncertain if that would be for the best.
“Are you sure, sweetie?” she asked. “It might be easier to explain ‘woman to woman’.”
“She is not a woman!” Vegeta choked out. “She is a girl. And she may be hurt because of her fondness for the boy, but I feel it will be best if the explanation comes from the source.”
“Fondness?” Goten asked in surprise. “Really?”
“Don’t be dense,” Vegeta stated.
“Do you think I should talk to her?” Goten continued seriously. “I mean, I always thought Bulla was my buddy... the little sister I never had...”
“Oh, well, by the Kais, don’t tell her that!” Bulma exclaimed. “That will just make it worse.” Goten shook his head, vigorously.
“No! Then no, of course not!” he responded hastily. “I... I’ll think of something.”
“We’ll think of something,” Trunks corrected him. Goten grinned.
“Oh, please,” Bulma groaned in an exaggerated manner. “Go to bed already.”
“Separate beds, please,” Chi Chi added.
Goten considered a moment pointing out that they had slept together their whole lives -- including the past month -- but he thought better of it. The two teens hugged their mothers once again before bidding their parents good night.
“Well,” Goku spoke, once the boys were gone, “I guess I’m going to turn in, too... good night.”
“I’ll be up shortly, dear,” Chi Chi told him. Goku gave an uneasy, forced smile to the group before leaving for his room.
“You have some explaining to do,” Bulma stated, turning to the prince. Vegeta raised an eyebrow.
“Oh?”
Bulma grinned, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes.
“How long have you known?” she demanded. The prince gave a grunt of annoyance.
“Go to bed, woman,” he grumbled. Bulma continued to smile.
“Okay... but don’t think I won’t be waiting up for you to talk.” Vegeta gave another grunt, this one dismissing her words as if to say, ‘We’ll see about that’. “See you soon,” Bulma said to him before turning to Chi Chi. “Good night.”
Chi Chi returned the other woman’s smile.
“Good night, Bulma.”
Chi Chi and Vegeta watched her disappear up the staircase before they turned to one another. Both were silent for a long moment. Vegeta placed his hands in his pockets and walked into the dining room. Chi Chi followed him, but instead of sitting down at the table as he had, she moved further on into the kitchen to steep a pot of tea. When the beverage was brewed and ready, she poured two cups and set one before the prince. The silence stretched on until both were halfway through their cups.
“Did you mean what you said tonight?” Vegeta asked, giving her an even stare. “You no longer mind living here?”
Chi Chi nodded, keeping her hands clasped around the warm mug in front of her.
“Of course. This arrangement really does make the most sense now. And it’s nice to have such a large group to cook for. I enjoy the challenge.” She took a sip of her tea. “What about you?” she asked boldly. “What are your feelings? Really?”
“I have already stated that I was not adverse to it,” he replied matter-of-factly. Chi Chi set her cup down, giving him a challenging stare.
“And of course you couldn’t be more clear about it,” she spoke sarcastically. Vegeta frowned.
“I could be more vague,” he replied.
“Well, I’m not completely satisfied with that,” she stated firmly. “I know you like the twins being here, but I need to know that you enjoy having Goku and I here as well -- and don’t you dare give me that, ‘If I didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be here’ nonsense, because that is not an answer.” She took a steadying breath, waiting for a response. Slowly, the prince’s lips turned into a smirk.
“I see nothing inaccurate in your statements,” he commented.
Chi Chi thought a moment, connecting his words to hers to see how they fit.
She smiled.
“That will work,” she said, rising from her chair and collecting her cup. “I think I will turn in now. I swear there were thirty-seven hours in this day.”
Vegeta silently agreed, finishing off his own cup and following her to the kitchen.
“Good night, Vegeta,” Chi Chi said to him. He gave a nod in reply, as he placed his empty cup in the sink. She turned from him and walked to the doorway, stopping when he spoke to her.
“So, you are not opposed to this relationship between my boy and yours?” he asked.
Chi Chi turned back to him,noting the lack of emotion on his face. But his eyes reflected the concern any parent would have for his child’s feelings.
Chi Chi gave him one of his own trademark smirks.
“Of course not,” she said with a laugh. “Did this turn of events actually surprise you?” Vegeta’s cheek twitched with the tug of a smile. “Good night,” she repeated, before leaving him alone.
Vegeta shook his head, amused, leaving the kitchen as well and entering the den. He sighed, stretching out the tension in his neck as he activated the entertainment center, filling the dark room with beautiful orchestral music from one of his own preset playlists. He stopped at the bar, picking up a tumbler and selecting a bottle that held a liquid more conducive to promoting sleep than tea.
The prince settled back onto the sofa, listening to the music and reviewing the events of the evening. With the exception of his princess’ hurt feelings, he could not find himself at all displeased.
Slowly, he crept down the hall, taking the corridors that would lead him to Trunks’ room. The older teen’s door wasn’t locked, but it was once Goten was on the other side of it.
Trunks was sitting on his bed with a book open in his lap. He wasn’t reading the text, however, but facing the door as if expecting a visitor.
Goten crossed immediately to the bed, cupping Trunks’ face in his hands and kissing him deeply. Trunks tossed the book to the side, placing his hands over Goten’s as the younger boy pushed him back against the headboard with the intensity of his kiss. Goten brought his leg over Trunks’, straddling his thighs before he pulled away, breathlessly.
“Is this not the fucking freakiest thing ever!?” he asked in a whisper, before kissing Trunks again.
“Mm,” Trunks agreed with a nod. “I have to admit, it went smoother than I imagined. Your mom... wow.”
“Yeah,” Goten agreed. “I’m blown away! This couldn’t have been any better!” Trunks frowned slightly, his eyes looking away from his friend’s face. Goten grimaced, pressing his forehead against the older boy’s. “I feel bad about Bulla, too,” he stated.
“I never considered how she would feel about this...” Trunks told him, absently running his palms over Goten’s forearms. “I knew we would have to tell her and that she might be upset... but I thought I would get the chance to break it to her gently.”
“I’m sorry,” Goten told him, watching the way Trunks’ hands moved across his skin. He was entranced a moment, feeling his temperature rise. “She doesn’t have a big crush on me, right?” he asked.
Trunks shrugged.
“Do crushes come in degrees?” he replied. “I knew she liked you -- it just never occurred to me as an issue because she is so young. But... I guess she’s not so young anymore.”
Goten groaned, moving to lie at Trunks’ side.
“I don’t want her to hate me!”
“I don’t want her to hate me, either,” Trunks added. “... I never would have guessed that she would be the one we had to worry about.” The younger teen made a sound of agreement. There was a moment of silence between them, neither looking at the other or anything else in particular.
“Well...” Goten finally spoke, “I guess I should get back to my room...” Trunks nodded, but inside he didn’t want him to leave. Goten propped his head up on his hand and narrowed his eyes at his friend. “You know,” he said quietly, giving a nod of agreement with himself, “technically, we’re adults. And we don’t have to listen when they say sleep in separate beds.”
Trunks smirked.
“Oh, you think so?” he asked. Goten gave another nod.
“Yeah. They can’t be serious, really. I mean, your dad hasn’t said anything.”
“True,” the older teen agreed.
“I think I’m going to stay,” Goten decided. “If that’s okay with you?”
“Of course,” Trunks replied. The younger Saiyan grinned, climbing beneath the sheets and settled down at Trunks’ side. Trunks turned off the light and settled in, too, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. So many things crossed through his mind as they lay there together in the dark. They didn’t have to hide their relationship anymore. They were free to be themselves, without restrictions. So far, so good.
With the exception of Bulla.
Trunk laid his arm across his eyes, trying to block out what light from outside filtered into the room. Willing himself to be tired just wasn’t working. He was far too wound up from the excitement of the evening to relax. His parents’, and Goten’s parents’, reaction to their announcement was ideal. He just wished it hadn’t come at the expense of his little sister’s feelings. If he had gotten to tell her first, maybe that could have softened the blow. He only hoped he could come up with some sort of plan for damage control.
Trunks pulled his arm back and turned to look at the young man lying at his side. Goten was staring at him, wide-eyed. When Trunks turned to him, he smiled. The older teen smiled in return. He really couldn’t blame Bulla for falling for him.
Trunks opened his mouth to voice his affection, but Goten spoke first. The younger Saiyan smiled happily, speaking softly to his friend.
“Don’t molest me while I’m sleeping...”
By one a.m., Goku still couldn’t feel the desire to sleep. Carefully, he got out of bed and crept from the room. He stopped at the nursery to check on the twins. Both boys were cuddled closely together like a couple of pups. Goku couldn’t help but smile.
The whole house was dark and quiet at this time of night, but he knew the one he sought was awake. He could tell by his ki.
Goku paused at the door to the den, listening to the beautiful classical music that emanated from within the dim room. Vegeta was sitting at the end of the sofa, a glass in one hand, tapping the other against his thigh in time with the music.
“Something on your mind, Kakkarot?” the prince asked, before bringing his drink to his lips. Goku moved into the room, settling at the opposite end of the couch.
“Yeah...” he began hesitantly. “Do you mind talking? I don’t want to interrupt your... peace.”
Vegeta rose from the sofa, moving to the bar to refill his tumbler.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked, taking a bottle from the mini fridge and filling a second glass. The prince turned back, crossing to his seat and offering the second drink to the other Saiyan.
“Oh -- I can’t,” Goku grimaced, half tempted by the dark crimson liquid.
“Of course you can,” Vegeta replied with a smirk. “It’s cranberry-grape juice.”
“Oh.” Goku gave a nervous laugh, accepting the glass. “Thanks.”
The prince gave a nod.
“Come see me in a month or so,” he stated. “It’s even better with a generous splash of vodka.”
Goku gave a small chuckle, taking a gulp of the tart juice. He wasn’t sure what Vegeta was drinking, but he could tell by the dark amber color, and the distinct smell, that it wasn’t juice.
“As you were saying,” Vegeta prompted.
The tall Saiyan nodded. He wasn’t sure where to start. He wasn’t even sure what was bothering him, exactly. He just knew he wanted to talk.
“I’ll assume it is about the boys,” Vegeta said. Goku sighed.
“What makes you say that?” he mumbled, tracing his finger through the condensation on the side of his glass. Vegeta shrugged.
“Seeing as only two rather large events occurred tonight, I had to pick which one you might have concerns about. Seeing as you were ‘all in favor’ of the permanent joining of our households, I have to assume you are ‘not in favor’ of the joining of our sons.”
Goku grimaced over the other man’s choice of words.
“It’s not like that,” he said weakly. “I want them to be happy... I’m just... worried.”
“What is there to worry about?” Vegeta asked him. “We are aware of their character, their convictions. They appear compatible, stable. Most importantly, they have chosen this for themselves. What is to worry over?”
Goku stared into his drink as he tried to come up with an answer. He could hear the clinking of ice as Vegeta drained his glass, his mind wandering again to what the prince could be drinking. Vegeta watched the third class, the alcohol he had consumed lightening his emotional barriers and softening his attitude. He knew he should have stopped an hour ago...
“I have always understood this ‘friendly talk’ to involve the exchange of personal thoughts,” the older Saiyan mused. Goku looked up at him, the end of his tail twitching slightly.
“I don’t want Goten to go through what I did,” he stated abruptly. Vegeta felt his heart stop beating in the moment before Kakkarot spoke again. “Carrying a baby -- having a baby -- he’s too young!”
“You would feel no differently if he were dating a female,” Vegeta said lightly, leaning forward to place his empty tumbler on the coffee table. He sat back, resting his arms across the back of the sofa. “We have to trust our children to be responsible. As we would if they were with anyone else. It is to our advantage that we know that their mutual affection will help, more than likely, make them want to protect each other.”
“But if they are in love with each other, Vegeta -- real love--” Goku returned insistently, “-- they’ll want to... to do stuff...”
Vegeta raised an eyebrow and regarded the other Saiyan with scrutiny.
“You think that your son has not already ‘done stuff’ with previous partners?” he asked. “You, who said you would let that very same ‘stuff’ happen under your own roof so you would at least know whom he was with?” Goku shifted uncomfortably. “Come now, Kakkarot,” Vegeta spoke firmly. “We are friends, are we not? Why don’t you tell me what you really find disturbing about their relationship?”
“I don’t know!” Goku insisted hotly, annoyed with the prince’s alcohol-assisted openness. “But I don’t want my son hurt...” he finished feebly.
Vegeta sighed, rising from his seat and moving back to the bar. He activated a call button on the central panel that brought a kitchen bot flying into the room. The grey metallic droid stopped at his side before speaking earnestly.
“How may I assist you?!”
“Coffee,” Vegeta instructed the machine. “Strong and black.”
“Right away, Prince Vegeta!”
The older Saiyan returned to the sofa, and sat so he could face the younger man.
“I empathize with your confusion, Kakkarot,” he spoke calmly, running a hand through his dark hair. “But your concern is based on an irrational fear.”
“Excuse me?!” Goku asked, slightly offended. “What makes you say that?”
The prince shrugged.
“What makes you think that Goten could get hurt in this relationship, more than any other?”
“Because he could possibly be able to carry babies, too, Vegeta! I don’t know if you remember, but it certainly wasn’t the best of times for me -- even though I love the boys. And if Goten had a baby, well, I know that he’d love it, but I’d rather him not go through all that... so young...”
Vegeta appeared unmoved by his words. The kitchen bot returned with his coffee and he took the cup, taking a sip before speaking.
“And what makes you think that he will be engaging in activities that will subject him to such consequences?”
“That’s what I just told you!” Goku exclaimed in a harsh whisper. “Teenagers these days have sex, Vegeta!”
“Well...” Vegeta began blandly, “Trunks can’t get pregnant,” he offered. Goku blinked.
“What?”
Vegeta took a longer drink of the strong brew, the heat giving a jolt to his senses. He was already this far into the conversation, though... no point in regretting it now.
“I will assume that what concerns you about your son’s sexual activity is not his participation, but his position,” he spoke dryly.
Goku felt a hot blush rush quickly into his face. How could Vegeta say such a thing?!
“I... I... I don’t think...” Goku stammered. “I don’t think that!” He grew quiet, frowning and folding his arms over his chest. Vegeta had a lot of nerve to say that to him. “You are twisting my words,” he hissed.
The prince shrugged.
“Maybe.” He took another drink of coffee before he continued. “But, were my son a daughter, would you be so worried about him getting her pregnant?” He didn’t wait for Goku to answer before continuing. “I don’t want my child to be a parent while still in his youth, that is all.”
“I feel the same,” Goku answered with certainty. “But it’s not like you said, Vegeta. I don’t care how they... do ... it... I just... I just...” He held tightly to the cool glass tumbler as he spoke. Why couldn’t Vegeta just be psychic and understand how he felt!
The prince looked from his coffee cup to the empty glass on the table, half-heartedly debating with himself about whether or not he should have another alcoholic beverage instead of the coffee. The alcohol gave him an excuse for being open with the other Saiyan, but he never liked excuses. If he was going to do something, he wanted to do it with his wits about him and with purpose.
“Kakkarot,” he spoke evenly, focusing on the window across the room instead of on the warrior at his side, who sat looking back at him earnestly. “Perhaps your feelings are confused by your poor experience. You do not want it to be for your son as it was for you.”
Goku looked away from the prince, shrugging. An uncomfortable feeling settled over him, and he squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to focus on Vegeta’s voice and not the unpleasant feeling in his gut.
“I know Trunks would never hurt him. I’m not worried about that...” Goku spoke quietly. “I know it’s nothing like that... I think...”
“Consciously, you know that,” Vegeta remarked. “But I believe you could again use the reassurance that what we suffered is the polar opposite of anything that could happen between those boys.”
Goku looked up to his fellow Saiyan. Vegeta’s face was expressionless, waiting for Goku to respond.
“I’m just... I don’t know,” Goku sighed heavily, clasping his drink between his knees so he could run both hands through his hair. “You’re right, Vegeta. I know what you are saying makes sense. I’m just not convinced that... well...” He shook his head. “I guess it’s not really any of my business.”
Vegeta gave a wry smirk.
“Pleasure comes in many forms, Kakkarot,” he stated. “Rest assured.”
Goku turned back to him, a look of disbelief in his eyes.
“Can you say that with certainty?” he asked, almost demanded. Vegeta stared back at him, well aware Goku was asking if he could assure him with personal knowledge. If the clown wanted honesty, he could have it.
“Yes,” the prince spoke evenly, “I can.”
Under different circumstances, Vegeta might have laughed at the way Goku’s eyes bulged in surprise. Vegeta calmly drank his coffee, waiting for the next line of questioning. Goku was silent for a long time.
“Do you think that they really love each other?” he asked when he finally spoke.
“They say that they do -- that is all that is relevant,” Vegeta replied. “You worry for nothing. They are smart boys, who I doubt would enter into such an arrangement lightly. Personally, I believe their affection to be genuine.”
“You always knew,” Goku spoke, shaking his head. “I guess it’s been a long time coming.”
“Mm,” Vegeta agreed.
Goku sighed, resting his head in his hands as he thought. He was sure Vegeta was right. But it was hard to stretch his imagination to accept that intimacy between men could be anything but uncomfortable. He knew that physical displays of affection were important in a relationship... and he just didn’t want his son to go through life not knowing that sex could be beautiful, not to mention fun. He knew that what he and Vegeta had shared was not intimacy, but he wasn’t physically forced. He couldn’t imagine any amount of finesse making that act a pleasure.
Goku turned his head, watching the prince drink his coffee. Vegeta’s openness thus far made him bold.
“You’ve had good sex with a man?”
The prince choked on his drink, inhaling most of it and spitting the rest back into his cup.
“By the Gods, Kakkarot!” he exclaimed, flustered.
“I’m not trying to be vulgar!” Goku insisted hastily, watching the other Saiyan wipe the coffee from his chin. “It’s just, you said you had ‘unfortunate experience’. You never said ‘good experience’.”
Vegeta stood, setting down his mug and retrieving his glass tumbler as he walked to the bar. The younger Saiyan did have a point, but his experience -- unfortunate or otherwise -- was always something that he kept to himself. He grabbed the closest bottle of scotch and filled his glass to the rim.
“I will assume your experience begins, and ends, with your wife?” Vegeta asked, not turning back.
“Well... yeah,” Goku admitted. He had never given girls much thought before he got married. And since -- well, he was married. He never thought about another besides Chi Chi... and those few times about the prince himself. But he didn’t know what he was thinking about Vegeta.
“Then why assume that there is no pleasure to be had outside of what you know?” He turned to Goku, trying to put it into words the younger man could understand. “A defeat does not steal the delight in other battles.” He took a large gulp of the alcohol, feeling Goku’s eyes on him. Why couldn’t he just understand?
Goku took a deep breath, scooting over to Vegeta’s side of the sofa, closer to where the other man stood.
“You can’t compare this to battle,” he began quietly. “It’s not the same.”
“Isn’t it?” Vegeta frowned. “Battles between enemies are a fight for dominance. To dominate your opponent, to utterly destroy and humiliate him by proving your superior strength.”
“But our spars are nothing like that,” Goku replied, shaking his head. “Sure, both of us want to win, but we fight for the love of fighting.”
Vegeta’s eyebrow slowly rose and he cocked his head to the side as he watched the younger Saiyan.
“And how does that not parallel the act of lovers?”
Goku felt a blush of embarrassment so hot, he feared his face might be shining like a beacon.
“You... you mean... us?” he choked out.
Vegeta’s eyes grew wide as he suddenly realized how he had just compared his own relationship with the third class to a relationship quite different. He drained his glass.
“Of course I do not mean us,” he stated, licking the alcohol from his lips. He definitely needed coffee now. “I would never suggest -”
“I’m not suggesting!” Goku insisted. “It just, for a moment... well, you were talking about us and then... I mean, defeats and battles...” Vegeta rubbed his forehead wearily, his thoughts swirling as he listened to the other man stammer. “I know that you were just trying to explain, but for a second I was confused.” Goku felt his face growing hotter, but he could not stop the rush of words streaming from his mouth. “I know that you would never mean, well, while our battle relationship was made up for, I know that you weren’t meaning --”
“I can’t make it up to you, Kakkarot -- we are married!” Vegeta snapped before he could think.
Goku finally ran out of words. He stared blankly at the prince. He could see the tension in Vegeta’s neck as it again dawned on him that he had said the wrong thing.
“It is late,” Vegeta said tightly. He looked with disgust at the empty glass in his hand and turned to set it on the bar. How could he put himself in a position to speak so freely?! When he turned back around, he found Goku no longer looked embarrassed.
“Thanks for talking with me, Vegeta,” the tall Saiyan spoke, standing. “I really needed to work out the way I was feeling, and it’s good to know that I have friends to help with that.”
Vegeta felt dazed by the third class’ sudden change in demeanor. Maybe he hadn’t taken his words the way they sounded...
“I did nothing. But, whatever.” He gave a nod, moving toward the door. “Good night.”
“Good night,” Goku replied, watching Vegeta leave. The prince did not look back.
Goku took a deep breath and settled back onto the sofa. His feelings of uneasiness were replaced by a tug of guilt. He would never have wished to exchange his discomfort with the prince. He felt selfish, pressuring Vegeta for answers to questions that were really irrelevant. What was it he wanted to know exactly? Of one thing he was certain: he received many answers tonight. Unfortunately, some of those answers raised questions he was not sure that even he had the courage to ever ask.
“Hey, Goku?” Bulma asked, poking her head into the nursery. The Saiyan looked up from where he was dressing the dark-haired twin.
“Yeah?”
“Have you seen Vegeta yet today?” she asked.
Goku took a deep breath.
“No. But by his ki, he’s out in the back yard.”
“Thanks.” She gave him a wink before turning back and making her way to the patio. She found the prince sitting in one of the outdoor lounge chairs, staring out into the large expanse of land on which Capsule Corp sat. She leaned over the back of the chair and kissed him on the top of his head. “I’m going to go pick up Bulla,” she told him. The Prince tilted his head to look up at her.
“Are you coming straight back?” he asked.
“Yep. Unless she wants a quick shopping distraction,” Bulma replied, reaching past him and taking the cup from his hand. She took a sip before continuing. “If she does, we’ll be back before dinner for sure. Good tea.”
Vegeta retrieved the cup from her, giving a nod. Bulma kissed him again, this time on the cheek, before crossing back through the house to the front door.
Stepping out into the warm, sunny morning, Bulma smiled as she watched her friend’s hover car settle at the end of the front walk.
“Good morning, sunshine!” Yamucha called to her, slipping on a pair of sunglasses as he stepped from the vehicle. “I came to spoil your lunch!” He held up a blue and white bakery sack and a cardboard tray that held two cups. “Cappuccino and crullers.”
“I could kill you,” Bulma laughed, meeting him in the middle of the sidewalk. “But I’ve warned you that fattening me up will do you no good. Vegeta likes it when I have a little extra meat on my bones.”
The handsome fighter grimaced as she snatched the bag from his hand. His smile soon returned.
“Ah, I can’t pretend that the man doesn’t have fine taste.” Bulma chuckled, biting into the fluffy pastry.
“Come with me,” she suggested, balancing the doughnut and bag as she opened her capsule case. “I have to pick up Bulla, and I have lots of news to share. Lots of news.”
Yamucha smirked, handing her one of the coffee cups and tossing the carrier into his own car.
“I don’t trust that look in your eye. The last time I saw that look, I was addressing baby shower invites... Of course --” He gave a faraway stare, turning his eyes toward the clouds. “-- there was that one time I didn’t mind that look... it took three weeks for the ligature marks to fade...”
Bulma placed the doughnut in her mouth to free up a hand to slap him with. The ex-bandit laughed heartily.
“Sorry, B. I couldn’t resist.” Bulma gave a sigh, but smiled as she rolled her eyes.
“Get in the car,” she instructed.
They lifted off from the Briefs’ property and started toward Kame House. Yamucha settled back into his seat, turning slightly to face his friend.
“So what’s the big news?” he asked, taking a gulp of his cappuccino.
“A couple of things,” Bulma replied, her grin widening. “First: dinner --”
“Oh yeah,” he cut in. “That was one of my reasons for coming over. How’d that go?”
“Great,” she smiled broadly. “We had a nice talk, and we all decided that the arrangement is fine as-is. They’re staying!”
Yamucha smiled as well, reaching over to give her shoulder a squeeze.
“That’s great, babe!” he spoke. “If it’s what you all want, more power to you.”
“Thanks,” she returned, beaming proudly. “But there’s more!”
The fighter raised an eyebrow.
“Oh? Lemme guess: To celebrate, you’re throwing a party?”
“Oh, there’ll be a party, smart ass,” she informed him. “But listen to this : ...” Yamucha listened patiently to her tale of the phone call that cut dinner short, and her and Vegeta’s trip to Krillin’s that same evening.
“Dear Kami, Bulma,” he groaned, “please don’t tell me if she started her period or something...”
“It’s not that,” she insisted. “Although, this ranks up there on the trauma scale...”
“Then why do you seem so happy?” he asked suspiciously. Bulma’s smile widened.
“Because I met Trunks’ secret significant other,” she explained.
“No shit?!” Yamucha exclaimed. “Well? What happened? I thought he was baby sitting -- oh shit! What did Bulla see?”
Bulma held up a hand to silence him.
“So, we get there,” she continued dramatically, placing the car in ‘hover’ so she could pay attention to him without worrying about where she was driving. “And Trunks had to fess up because Bulla did catch him kissing someone.”
“Who?!” Yamucha pressed. Bulma’s reply was practically a shout.
“Goten!”
Yamucha stared blankly at her, blinking a few times as he digested this information.
“Trunks...” he began slowly. “Was kissing... Goten?” Bulma nodded. “...Son Goten?”
Bulma laughed.
“And then they told us all that they have been secretly seeing each other for a month and that they are in love!” She put the car back in motion as she finished. “It would have been a perfect evening if poor Bulla hadn’t found out that way. Ugh...”
Yamucha frowned, mulling over what his friend had just told him.
“I’m sorry, Bulma,” he said with a chuckle, “but did you just tell me that Trunks and Goten... came out to the four of you last night?”
“Well, not the four of us,” she shrugged. “Apparently, Vegeta has known for -- well, who knows how long.”
“And what are his feelings about this?”
“I haven’t really had the chance to interrogate him on the subject. He came to bed after I was asleep, and he was up before I woke. He doesn’t appear to care in the slightest.”
“And... Chi Chi?” Yamucha asked nervously. Bulma laughed.
“Are you kidding? She adores Trunks! But I have to admit that I was a little surprised by how easily she accepted it... must have been the high from deciding to live with us for good.” Yamucha continued to look amazed.
“Wow... this is sure... wow.”
“I know,” Bulma exclaimed. “But they’ve always been so close. Inseparable...” She set the capsule car down in front of Kame House, and she and Yamucha walked across the small patch of lawn to the front door.
“Good morning,” Krillin greeted, looking more than a little haggard.
“Was she that bad?” Yamucha asked him as they shook hands in greeting.
“No... I just didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“I know it’s tough, hon,” Bulma spoke to him. “But it won’t be the last time you see your little girl cry. Man up.”
Krillin didn’t look comforted.
“But if she cries like that over losing a cd, what happens if she gets her heart broken?! I’ll be devastated!”
Yamucha smirked.
“Don’t you mean ‘she’ll’ be devastated?” he inquired. “Besides, I think I can guarantee that crying over a boy is just about the same as this...” Bulma gave him a cool glance. Yamucha was glad for the distraction when the princess came into the room. “There’s my best girl!” he exclaimed. “How was the sleepover?”
“Fine,” she shrugged, leaning against the tall warrior as he put an arm around her.
“Only fine?” he asked. “Well, we’ll have to see what we can do to make the day better.”
“Why don’t you two talk about it in the car?” Bulma suggested. “I’m going to talk to Krillin and 18 about Saturday.”
Yamucha gave a nod and escorted the pre-teen from the house. Krillin looked nervously to the blue-haired genius.
“What? I’m familiar with the secret language of parents. What’s up?”
“Where’s 18?” Bulma asked quietly, ignoring his question.
“She’s in the bedroom working on the household budget,” he replied. “What’s going on?”
Bulma gave a jerk of her head, motioning him to follow, before passing through the small house to Krillin and 18’s bedroom. They found the blonde sitting on the bed with an open journal and a stack of papers in front of her. 18 raised an eyebrow in interest.
“Good morning,” Bulma greeted, pulling the shorter man into the room and shutting the door. “I’ll make this brief so it doesn’t seem obvious that we’re back here talking about last night, but I thought you might like to know what has Bulla and Marron so out-of-sorts.”
“Yes!” Krillin replied eagerly. “What is it!?”
Bulma smirked, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Both girls found out that the boys they have crushes on are both taken.”
“Trunks and Goten,” 18 stated with a nod of understanding. “I figured as much.”
“Yeah,” Krillin agreed sadly, but added: “But I bet it’s nothing like what you thought it was!”
18 turned to Bulma.
“Who are they dating?” she asked. Bulma couldn’t help her grin.
“Each other!” A small squeaking sound escaped the ex-monk, but he was otherwise silent. 18 merely nodded again. “Well, I have to go. I’m so sorry if Marron is hurt badly because of this. I feel really bad for the kids.”
“She’ll be fine,” 18 assured her. “It might take a few days, but Trunks never acted inappropriately or encouragingly to her, so you have no reason to apologize.”
“But still...” Bulma said. “If there is anything I can do...” She opened the door to leave, but turned back to speak. “Oh, we’re having a barbeque on Saturday. See you there!”
18 turned to her husband, watching him stare blankly at the empty doorway. Reaching out, she gently placed a hand on his back.
“Darling...” she spoke warmly to him. “You owe me.”
“Not even Bulma has the kind of money you bet me over this!” he exclaimed, turning to her. “I got carried away by emotion!” His wife gave him a smirking smile.
“We’ll work something out...”
When Bulma returned to the car, she found Bulla sitting in the back seat with her arms crossed, looking strikingly like her father. Yamucha was chatting idly about Saturday’s barbeque.
“Did you have fun?” Bulma asked her daughter as they started for home. The pre-teen shrugged.
“I guess.”
Bulma studied the girl in her rearview mirror a moment, trying to gauge how angry and hurt she was at the moment.
“I found your cds,” she told the child, causing her to look up at her mother’s eyes reflecting in the mirror. “They were in the den.”
“Oh,”
The remainder of the car ride home was relatively silent. Yamucha and Bulma made a few comments about the weekend weather forecast and seeing old friends, but nothing the princess chimed in on. Once the aircar touched pavement, Bulla was out.
“How do you think she’s taking this?” Yamucha asked his friend, following her to the house.
“Well, if she’s like me, she’ll be fine if she got to blow up about it already.” She grimaced as she finished, “But if she’s like her daddy, she’ll simmer about it for weeks.”
“Hm...” he remarked before asking, “Which one is worse?”
“Well... neither one is too bad... Worse, I suppose, would be being her usual unexpected self. And if I know my daughter, she’s not one to be predictable.” She opened the door and motioned the fighter in. “We’ll just need to see which is stronger,” she added in a hushed tone. “Her crush on Goten, or her love for her brother.”
“Well,” he said, turning to Goten, who sat on the side of the bed, “wish me luck.”
“I want to go with you,” Goten replied, standing. “There is safety in numbers.”
The older teen gave a weak smile.
“Thanks, but I want to talk to her alone first.”
Goten frowned, but nodded.
“Fine,” he agreed, crossing to stand in front of his friend. “But first, let me have one last look at this face -- to remember you by.”
“Shut up,” Trunks sighed. “Give me a few minutes alone with her.”
Goten nodded again, giving him a hearty clap on the back.
“Good luck, man.”
Trunks walked to the opposite end of the house to where Bulla’s room was. He passed through the living room, giving a nod of greeting to his parents and to Yamucha. He ignored the cheshire-cat grin on the human warrior’s face. He could only concentrate on one traumatic event at a time.
Bulla’s door was closed and he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to compose himself, before raising a fist and knocking lightly.
“Bul?” he called through. “It’s Trunks. May I come in?”
There was a moment of silence before his sister’s voice finally answered.
“Yeah.”
Trunks took another deep breath before opening the door and walking inside. Bulla was sitting on her bed, holding a pillow in her lap. Her face was impassive and unreadable, and she regarded him neither warmly or coldly. Trunks shut the door behind himself.
“I wanted to talk to you,” he began. The princess arched an eyebrow, but remained silent. “About last night,” he finished as he settled on the end of the bed. The pre-teen shrugged.
“What about it?” she asked casually. Trunks grimaced, everything he had prepared to say now suddenly gone from his mind.
“Well...” he began again, “I wanted to say that I’m sorry you had to find out that way.”
Her eyebrow rose again.
“Find out about what?”
Trunks sighed, scooting closer to his little sister.
“Bulla...” he started tenderly, “Goten and I are... more than just friends.” The princess sighed heavily, rolling her eyes. Trunks continued quickly, reaching out to take her hand. “I never in a million years would want to hurt you, and I’m so sorry if you are hurt... So please, please don’t hate me.”
Bulla smirked as she scrutinized her brother. She was torn between being angry, and not knowing how to feel at all.
“So you’re,” she began cautiously, “boyfriends?”
Trunks nodded.
“I suppose that’s what it is.”
The princess grimaced, squinting her eyes to keep them from burning and willing away the tears. Trunks’ expression remained concerned, yet hopeful and earnest. Bulla sighed again.
“I could never hate you,” she grumbled, pulling her hand away.
“Are you mad?” he asked. “Mad at me?” She shook her head. Trunks’ voice dropped and he asked quietly, “Mad at Goten?”
Bulla’s brow furrowed momentarily before she answered.
“No. But I can’t guarantee Marron won’t be...” Her stomach ached at the thought of being mad at the handsome, dark-haired teen. He had always made her so happy.
Trunks didn’t address the statement about Marron. ‘One trauma at a time’ was his mantra for the day.
A soft knock on the door preceded Goten’s voice.
“Can I come in?”
“Sure,” Bulla replied. As the other Saiyan entered the room, Bulla pulled her feet up onto the bed and leaned on her elbows on the pillow.
“How was the sleep-over?” the teen asked, trying to sound sincere. Bulla stared at him.
“Are you serious?” she asked.
Goten shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans, suddenly self-conscious.
“You mad at me?” was his next question.
“No,” she replied lightly. “You can’t help it if you like boys.”
Goten’s mouth dropped open, but he recovered quickly.
“I can’t,” he agreed, pushing the older teen out of the way so he could settle on the bed across from the princess. “But you have plenty of guys bowing at your feet. In a couple of days, you’ll have forgotten about having this simple country boy around at your beck and call. I could never compete. You’re too much woman for me.”
“Obviously,” she replied dryly. Goten laughed.
“Ouch,”
“Besides,” Bulla proclaimed, giving a toss of her hair, “it’s not that I care because I like you. I’m just mad that you kept it secret. I thought we were all friends.”
Trunks and Goten looked to each other.
“I’m sorry, Bulla,” Trunks admitted. “We just wanted to make sure it was right for us before telling everyone. We didn’t want it to be weird for everyone if it didn’t work out.”
“Right,” Bulla stated with a sour smile. “’Cause this way is so totally not weird.”
Goten laughed.
“You got us there!” he stated. “But we would have told you first -- after Vegeta, I mean. Right after Trunks, you are my best friend!”
“I’m an eleven year old girl, Goten,” she told him. “You need to get out more.”
Both boys laughed at the remark, but the princess’ expression remained straight.
“So, we’re cool, right?” Goten asked.
“I’m cool,” Bulla clarified. “You are now as dorky as your brother and your boyfriend.”
Trunks sighed.
“Goten, you are now dorky by association.” The younger teen snapped his fingers.
“Damn. Oh, well...”
Bulla tossed her pillow aside, rising from the bed.
“I have things to do now, guys,” she stated. They stood as well, following her to the door. “I’d let you stay in here, but now I twice as much don’t trust you alone. Certainly not in my room.”
“Bulla,” Trunks began with a grimace.
“Like I haven’t caught you two fooling around before.” She shook her head. “It makes so much sense now.”
The lavender haired prince turned to his sister, halting her motion to leave.
“You are okay, right?” he asked, sincerely concerned for her wellbeing. She gave an expression of amusement.
“Why wouldn’t I be? If I had liked Goten, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway since he’s, like, a hundred years older than me.”
“Ouch again,” Goten remarked, a little less amused this time. Trunks gave his sister a one-armed hug.
“Good. I’m sorry we kept it secret from you. You will still hang out with us, right?”
“I’ll think about it,” she replied. “There is a sale at the mall this weekend...”
“And it just so happens my weekend is free,” Trunks replied. The princess gave a nod. “Come on, Goten.”
“Bye, sport,” Goten said, giving the pre-teen’s shoulder a squeeze. “You rock.”
Bulla watched them as they disappeared down the staircase. Inside, she felt a bit numb and cold. As if her heart ceased to beat and blood no longer flowed into her hands. She had liked Goten so much...
But she adored her brother. And nothing was more important than blood.
Slowly she turned, intending to go back into her room when she spied her parents’ door was ajar and headed that way instead. Her father was alone inside, sitting back on the bed, looking through a book. He turned his gaze to her, observing her a moment before speaking.
“Yes?”
Bulla pushed open the door and moved to the bedside, her hands clasped behind her.
“What are you doing?” she asked him as he placed the small black book into the nightstand drawer.
“I was going to take a nap,” he replied. “What are you doing?”
She shrugged.
The prince watched the girl as she twisted her toes into the carpet, her eyes downcast, her expression sullen.
“Something on your mind?” he prompted, folding his arms across his chest.
“I was wondering if you’d like to spar... that’s all...” she spoke quietly.
Vegeta felt that awful twisting in his gut upon hearing her words. He didn’t want his children to have the cold, isolated existence he’d had. Trunks somehow managed to navigate the emotional aspect of relationships. Bulla, he feared, was too like himself.
“I’m tired,” he stated, causing her to look up in surprise. “You look tired as well. Sparring can wait.”
Bulla considered his words a moment, before climbing over him onto the bed. She lay down at his side, folding an arm beneath her head. Vegeta sat with his back against the headboard, watching the princess as he tried to decide what to say. If he should say anything at all.
“Just so you know,” he began, trying not to sound gruff, “control of your feelings does not mean not acknowledging them.” Bulla turned her eyes up to him. “Or expressing them.”
He looked down into her large, azure eyes, feeling slightly unsure of what her reaction would be. He had always been emotionally distant from his children. Was it too late to change that now?
Bulla gave a nod, her mouth pinched closed. There was silence between them.
As if defeated, the princess dropped her head against her father’s side, one hand clutching into the fabric of his shirt, and she shook with quiet sobs.
Vegeta gave an inward sigh of relief, placing a hand on his little girl’s back. He didn’t want her to build up the emotional walls that he knew were so difficult to tear down. She would be strong without being withdrawn from those who loved her. And when she did grow and find love, she wouldn’t put her spouse through what he had subjected Bulma to.
Carefully, Vegeta pulled the child closer to him, letting her cling to him as she purged her emotions.
“It’s not fair, Papa.” Bulla’s voice was quiet, muffled against his side. “Trunks could have anyone he wanted.”
Vegeta couldn’t refute her statement. He was well aware of the attention his son drew in public. Gently, he smoothed a hand over her hair.
“He wanted Goten,” he explained softly.
Bulla shuddered as she sucked back her tears, raising her watery gaze to her father.
“Well... yeah...” She pulled herself up to wrap her arm around her father. “I guess I can’t blame him,” she grumbled.
“Indeed.”
“But it still sucks,” she continued. She considered his last statement a moment. Hearing her father say that Trunks had chosen Goten was more potent than hearing Trunks admit that they were boyfriends. “Trunks will be happy with Goten... I think,” she mused quietly. Vegeta watched her without comment. “I suppose Goten would be the only one he could be happy with...” She wiped at her tears. “And... it’s not like I can’t have anyone I want, excluding Goten.” She grimaced, but continued in an easy tone, “I wouldn't mind having a boyfriend like soccer star Jason Jones.... or video game mogul Rowen Tairyoku ... Ooo, or Yuu O!”
“That singing boy?” Vegeta asked with a grunt of distaste.
“Pop idol, Papa,” she explained. A smug smile turned her lips as she continued. “Or maybe I will just date all of them...”
Vegeta sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. He almost wished she would have grieved a bit longer, and now he really needed that nap.
Bulla was quiet at her father’s side and the conversation between them ceased. She gave a final, cleansing sigh, closing her eyes as well. She could pretend all she wanted, but her heart still ached for the dream ofa happy relationship with the warm, funny, good-looking young Saiyan that she had grown up around and grown comfortable with. Trunks had known him longer, she supposed, and it was not like he would be out of her life. Just out of her reach.
And she doubted there would ever be another one like him.
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... ^-^
Unlikely Bond
Chapter 69
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The longer his parents stood silent, the worse the ache in Goten’s stomach became. The teen gave a glance back to his friend and his parents. The Briefs were watching for the Sons’ reaction as well.Chapter 69
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“Dad?” Goten prompted, his mouth now dry from anticipation. His heart thumped loudly in his chest as he saw the tears welling up in his mother’s eyes. His voice broke with emotion as he spoke again. “Mom?”
Goten could feel Trunks lay a hand on his back, but for the moment, his entire world existed in the eyes of the woman in front of him.
Slowly, Chi Chi rose from her seat. The impact of her son’s words hit her hard, and the realization of what they were telling her was like an explosion of emotion. Her son, Son Goten, was in a relationship with...
...One of the richest, most successful men in the world! Trunks Briefs was not only responsible, but ambitious! A genius! And for two consecutive years voted the most eligible bachelor by ‘West City Woman’ Magazine. Her baby’s future was as sure as set!
Chi Chi pulled her youngest child into her arms, hugging him tightly.
“Oh, Goten,” she spoke in a choked whisper, “how can I not be happy for you?!”
Goten heaved a sigh of relief, returning his mother’s embrace.
“I’m glad,” he murmured.
Bulma laughed out loud, throwing her arms around her son.
“How long has this been going on?!” she demanded.
“Oh, about a month,” Trunks answered self-consciously.
“And you kept it secret?!” she exclaimed. “What on earth for?!”
“Because we didn’t want you to throw us a ‘coming out’ party,” Goten replied, not yet having let go of his mom. Bulma frowned, but the look on Trunks’ face confirmed that it was exactly the reason.
“Well,” Chi Chi stated, wiping at her eyes, “hasn’t this been an eventful night?” She smiled at her son and the young prince. Such an improvement over the silly, morally-questionable party girls Goten had gone out with in the past. Trunks was a decent, hard-working boy who had always been loyal and caring to her child. He could give Goten everything a mother could hope for her child. Chi Chi looked next to her husband, giving the same warm smile to him as well, which the tall Saiyan returned. Only Vegeta seemed to detect the concern in the other man’s demeanor by the way his tail twitched.
“I would suggest sleep,” the prince advised the teens. “When the princess returns tomorrow, she is owed an explanation.”
Trunks nodded, his expression sympathetic.
“I’ll talk to her.”
Bulma bit her lip, uncertain if that would be for the best.
“Are you sure, sweetie?” she asked. “It might be easier to explain ‘woman to woman’.”
“She is not a woman!” Vegeta choked out. “She is a girl. And she may be hurt because of her fondness for the boy, but I feel it will be best if the explanation comes from the source.”
“Fondness?” Goten asked in surprise. “Really?”
“Don’t be dense,” Vegeta stated.
“Do you think I should talk to her?” Goten continued seriously. “I mean, I always thought Bulla was my buddy... the little sister I never had...”
“Oh, well, by the Kais, don’t tell her that!” Bulma exclaimed. “That will just make it worse.” Goten shook his head, vigorously.
“No! Then no, of course not!” he responded hastily. “I... I’ll think of something.”
“We’ll think of something,” Trunks corrected him. Goten grinned.
“Oh, please,” Bulma groaned in an exaggerated manner. “Go to bed already.”
“Separate beds, please,” Chi Chi added.
Goten considered a moment pointing out that they had slept together their whole lives -- including the past month -- but he thought better of it. The two teens hugged their mothers once again before bidding their parents good night.
“Well,” Goku spoke, once the boys were gone, “I guess I’m going to turn in, too... good night.”
“I’ll be up shortly, dear,” Chi Chi told him. Goku gave an uneasy, forced smile to the group before leaving for his room.
“You have some explaining to do,” Bulma stated, turning to the prince. Vegeta raised an eyebrow.
“Oh?”
Bulma grinned, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes.
“How long have you known?” she demanded. The prince gave a grunt of annoyance.
“Go to bed, woman,” he grumbled. Bulma continued to smile.
“Okay... but don’t think I won’t be waiting up for you to talk.” Vegeta gave another grunt, this one dismissing her words as if to say, ‘We’ll see about that’. “See you soon,” Bulma said to him before turning to Chi Chi. “Good night.”
Chi Chi returned the other woman’s smile.
“Good night, Bulma.”
Chi Chi and Vegeta watched her disappear up the staircase before they turned to one another. Both were silent for a long moment. Vegeta placed his hands in his pockets and walked into the dining room. Chi Chi followed him, but instead of sitting down at the table as he had, she moved further on into the kitchen to steep a pot of tea. When the beverage was brewed and ready, she poured two cups and set one before the prince. The silence stretched on until both were halfway through their cups.
“Did you mean what you said tonight?” Vegeta asked, giving her an even stare. “You no longer mind living here?”
Chi Chi nodded, keeping her hands clasped around the warm mug in front of her.
“Of course. This arrangement really does make the most sense now. And it’s nice to have such a large group to cook for. I enjoy the challenge.” She took a sip of her tea. “What about you?” she asked boldly. “What are your feelings? Really?”
“I have already stated that I was not adverse to it,” he replied matter-of-factly. Chi Chi set her cup down, giving him a challenging stare.
“And of course you couldn’t be more clear about it,” she spoke sarcastically. Vegeta frowned.
“I could be more vague,” he replied.
“Well, I’m not completely satisfied with that,” she stated firmly. “I know you like the twins being here, but I need to know that you enjoy having Goku and I here as well -- and don’t you dare give me that, ‘If I didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be here’ nonsense, because that is not an answer.” She took a steadying breath, waiting for a response. Slowly, the prince’s lips turned into a smirk.
“I see nothing inaccurate in your statements,” he commented.
Chi Chi thought a moment, connecting his words to hers to see how they fit.
She smiled.
“That will work,” she said, rising from her chair and collecting her cup. “I think I will turn in now. I swear there were thirty-seven hours in this day.”
Vegeta silently agreed, finishing off his own cup and following her to the kitchen.
“Good night, Vegeta,” Chi Chi said to him. He gave a nod in reply, as he placed his empty cup in the sink. She turned from him and walked to the doorway, stopping when he spoke to her.
“So, you are not opposed to this relationship between my boy and yours?” he asked.
Chi Chi turned back to him,noting the lack of emotion on his face. But his eyes reflected the concern any parent would have for his child’s feelings.
Chi Chi gave him one of his own trademark smirks.
“Of course not,” she said with a laugh. “Did this turn of events actually surprise you?” Vegeta’s cheek twitched with the tug of a smile. “Good night,” she repeated, before leaving him alone.
Vegeta shook his head, amused, leaving the kitchen as well and entering the den. He sighed, stretching out the tension in his neck as he activated the entertainment center, filling the dark room with beautiful orchestral music from one of his own preset playlists. He stopped at the bar, picking up a tumbler and selecting a bottle that held a liquid more conducive to promoting sleep than tea.
The prince settled back onto the sofa, listening to the music and reviewing the events of the evening. With the exception of his princess’ hurt feelings, he could not find himself at all displeased.
~~~~~~~~~~
Goten was in his room barely half an hour before he was out again. He peered cautiously out of his door, concentrating on the location of each ki signature in the house.Slowly, he crept down the hall, taking the corridors that would lead him to Trunks’ room. The older teen’s door wasn’t locked, but it was once Goten was on the other side of it.
Trunks was sitting on his bed with a book open in his lap. He wasn’t reading the text, however, but facing the door as if expecting a visitor.
Goten crossed immediately to the bed, cupping Trunks’ face in his hands and kissing him deeply. Trunks tossed the book to the side, placing his hands over Goten’s as the younger boy pushed him back against the headboard with the intensity of his kiss. Goten brought his leg over Trunks’, straddling his thighs before he pulled away, breathlessly.
“Is this not the fucking freakiest thing ever!?” he asked in a whisper, before kissing Trunks again.
“Mm,” Trunks agreed with a nod. “I have to admit, it went smoother than I imagined. Your mom... wow.”
“Yeah,” Goten agreed. “I’m blown away! This couldn’t have been any better!” Trunks frowned slightly, his eyes looking away from his friend’s face. Goten grimaced, pressing his forehead against the older boy’s. “I feel bad about Bulla, too,” he stated.
“I never considered how she would feel about this...” Trunks told him, absently running his palms over Goten’s forearms. “I knew we would have to tell her and that she might be upset... but I thought I would get the chance to break it to her gently.”
“I’m sorry,” Goten told him, watching the way Trunks’ hands moved across his skin. He was entranced a moment, feeling his temperature rise. “She doesn’t have a big crush on me, right?” he asked.
Trunks shrugged.
“Do crushes come in degrees?” he replied. “I knew she liked you -- it just never occurred to me as an issue because she is so young. But... I guess she’s not so young anymore.”
Goten groaned, moving to lie at Trunks’ side.
“I don’t want her to hate me!”
“I don’t want her to hate me, either,” Trunks added. “... I never would have guessed that she would be the one we had to worry about.” The younger teen made a sound of agreement. There was a moment of silence between them, neither looking at the other or anything else in particular.
“Well...” Goten finally spoke, “I guess I should get back to my room...” Trunks nodded, but inside he didn’t want him to leave. Goten propped his head up on his hand and narrowed his eyes at his friend. “You know,” he said quietly, giving a nod of agreement with himself, “technically, we’re adults. And we don’t have to listen when they say sleep in separate beds.”
Trunks smirked.
“Oh, you think so?” he asked. Goten gave another nod.
“Yeah. They can’t be serious, really. I mean, your dad hasn’t said anything.”
“True,” the older teen agreed.
“I think I’m going to stay,” Goten decided. “If that’s okay with you?”
“Of course,” Trunks replied. The younger Saiyan grinned, climbing beneath the sheets and settled down at Trunks’ side. Trunks turned off the light and settled in, too, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. So many things crossed through his mind as they lay there together in the dark. They didn’t have to hide their relationship anymore. They were free to be themselves, without restrictions. So far, so good.
With the exception of Bulla.
Trunk laid his arm across his eyes, trying to block out what light from outside filtered into the room. Willing himself to be tired just wasn’t working. He was far too wound up from the excitement of the evening to relax. His parents’, and Goten’s parents’, reaction to their announcement was ideal. He just wished it hadn’t come at the expense of his little sister’s feelings. If he had gotten to tell her first, maybe that could have softened the blow. He only hoped he could come up with some sort of plan for damage control.
Trunks pulled his arm back and turned to look at the young man lying at his side. Goten was staring at him, wide-eyed. When Trunks turned to him, he smiled. The older teen smiled in return. He really couldn’t blame Bulla for falling for him.
Trunks opened his mouth to voice his affection, but Goten spoke first. The younger Saiyan smiled happily, speaking softly to his friend.
“Don’t molest me while I’m sleeping...”
~~~~~~~~~~
Goku felt slightly guilty for pretending to sleep when Chi Chi finally came to bed. He tried to tell himself that had she asked him if he were sleeping, he would have answered that he was not. Since she hadn’t asked, she must have been too tired to talk, anyway...By one a.m., Goku still couldn’t feel the desire to sleep. Carefully, he got out of bed and crept from the room. He stopped at the nursery to check on the twins. Both boys were cuddled closely together like a couple of pups. Goku couldn’t help but smile.
The whole house was dark and quiet at this time of night, but he knew the one he sought was awake. He could tell by his ki.
Goku paused at the door to the den, listening to the beautiful classical music that emanated from within the dim room. Vegeta was sitting at the end of the sofa, a glass in one hand, tapping the other against his thigh in time with the music.
“Something on your mind, Kakkarot?” the prince asked, before bringing his drink to his lips. Goku moved into the room, settling at the opposite end of the couch.
“Yeah...” he began hesitantly. “Do you mind talking? I don’t want to interrupt your... peace.”
Vegeta rose from the sofa, moving to the bar to refill his tumbler.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked, taking a bottle from the mini fridge and filling a second glass. The prince turned back, crossing to his seat and offering the second drink to the other Saiyan.
“Oh -- I can’t,” Goku grimaced, half tempted by the dark crimson liquid.
“Of course you can,” Vegeta replied with a smirk. “It’s cranberry-grape juice.”
“Oh.” Goku gave a nervous laugh, accepting the glass. “Thanks.”
The prince gave a nod.
“Come see me in a month or so,” he stated. “It’s even better with a generous splash of vodka.”
Goku gave a small chuckle, taking a gulp of the tart juice. He wasn’t sure what Vegeta was drinking, but he could tell by the dark amber color, and the distinct smell, that it wasn’t juice.
“As you were saying,” Vegeta prompted.
The tall Saiyan nodded. He wasn’t sure where to start. He wasn’t even sure what was bothering him, exactly. He just knew he wanted to talk.
“I’ll assume it is about the boys,” Vegeta said. Goku sighed.
“What makes you say that?” he mumbled, tracing his finger through the condensation on the side of his glass. Vegeta shrugged.
“Seeing as only two rather large events occurred tonight, I had to pick which one you might have concerns about. Seeing as you were ‘all in favor’ of the permanent joining of our households, I have to assume you are ‘not in favor’ of the joining of our sons.”
Goku grimaced over the other man’s choice of words.
“It’s not like that,” he said weakly. “I want them to be happy... I’m just... worried.”
“What is there to worry about?” Vegeta asked him. “We are aware of their character, their convictions. They appear compatible, stable. Most importantly, they have chosen this for themselves. What is to worry over?”
Goku stared into his drink as he tried to come up with an answer. He could hear the clinking of ice as Vegeta drained his glass, his mind wandering again to what the prince could be drinking. Vegeta watched the third class, the alcohol he had consumed lightening his emotional barriers and softening his attitude. He knew he should have stopped an hour ago...
“I have always understood this ‘friendly talk’ to involve the exchange of personal thoughts,” the older Saiyan mused. Goku looked up at him, the end of his tail twitching slightly.
“I don’t want Goten to go through what I did,” he stated abruptly. Vegeta felt his heart stop beating in the moment before Kakkarot spoke again. “Carrying a baby -- having a baby -- he’s too young!”
“You would feel no differently if he were dating a female,” Vegeta said lightly, leaning forward to place his empty tumbler on the coffee table. He sat back, resting his arms across the back of the sofa. “We have to trust our children to be responsible. As we would if they were with anyone else. It is to our advantage that we know that their mutual affection will help, more than likely, make them want to protect each other.”
“But if they are in love with each other, Vegeta -- real love--” Goku returned insistently, “-- they’ll want to... to do stuff...”
Vegeta raised an eyebrow and regarded the other Saiyan with scrutiny.
“You think that your son has not already ‘done stuff’ with previous partners?” he asked. “You, who said you would let that very same ‘stuff’ happen under your own roof so you would at least know whom he was with?” Goku shifted uncomfortably. “Come now, Kakkarot,” Vegeta spoke firmly. “We are friends, are we not? Why don’t you tell me what you really find disturbing about their relationship?”
“I don’t know!” Goku insisted hotly, annoyed with the prince’s alcohol-assisted openness. “But I don’t want my son hurt...” he finished feebly.
Vegeta sighed, rising from his seat and moving back to the bar. He activated a call button on the central panel that brought a kitchen bot flying into the room. The grey metallic droid stopped at his side before speaking earnestly.
“How may I assist you?!”
“Coffee,” Vegeta instructed the machine. “Strong and black.”
“Right away, Prince Vegeta!”
The older Saiyan returned to the sofa, and sat so he could face the younger man.
“I empathize with your confusion, Kakkarot,” he spoke calmly, running a hand through his dark hair. “But your concern is based on an irrational fear.”
“Excuse me?!” Goku asked, slightly offended. “What makes you say that?”
The prince shrugged.
“What makes you think that Goten could get hurt in this relationship, more than any other?”
“Because he could possibly be able to carry babies, too, Vegeta! I don’t know if you remember, but it certainly wasn’t the best of times for me -- even though I love the boys. And if Goten had a baby, well, I know that he’d love it, but I’d rather him not go through all that... so young...”
Vegeta appeared unmoved by his words. The kitchen bot returned with his coffee and he took the cup, taking a sip before speaking.
“And what makes you think that he will be engaging in activities that will subject him to such consequences?”
“That’s what I just told you!” Goku exclaimed in a harsh whisper. “Teenagers these days have sex, Vegeta!”
“Well...” Vegeta began blandly, “Trunks can’t get pregnant,” he offered. Goku blinked.
“What?”
Vegeta took a longer drink of the strong brew, the heat giving a jolt to his senses. He was already this far into the conversation, though... no point in regretting it now.
“I will assume that what concerns you about your son’s sexual activity is not his participation, but his position,” he spoke dryly.
Goku felt a hot blush rush quickly into his face. How could Vegeta say such a thing?!
“I... I... I don’t think...” Goku stammered. “I don’t think that!” He grew quiet, frowning and folding his arms over his chest. Vegeta had a lot of nerve to say that to him. “You are twisting my words,” he hissed.
The prince shrugged.
“Maybe.” He took another drink of coffee before he continued. “But, were my son a daughter, would you be so worried about him getting her pregnant?” He didn’t wait for Goku to answer before continuing. “I don’t want my child to be a parent while still in his youth, that is all.”
“I feel the same,” Goku answered with certainty. “But it’s not like you said, Vegeta. I don’t care how they... do ... it... I just... I just...” He held tightly to the cool glass tumbler as he spoke. Why couldn’t Vegeta just be psychic and understand how he felt!
The prince looked from his coffee cup to the empty glass on the table, half-heartedly debating with himself about whether or not he should have another alcoholic beverage instead of the coffee. The alcohol gave him an excuse for being open with the other Saiyan, but he never liked excuses. If he was going to do something, he wanted to do it with his wits about him and with purpose.
“Kakkarot,” he spoke evenly, focusing on the window across the room instead of on the warrior at his side, who sat looking back at him earnestly. “Perhaps your feelings are confused by your poor experience. You do not want it to be for your son as it was for you.”
Goku looked away from the prince, shrugging. An uncomfortable feeling settled over him, and he squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to focus on Vegeta’s voice and not the unpleasant feeling in his gut.
“I know Trunks would never hurt him. I’m not worried about that...” Goku spoke quietly. “I know it’s nothing like that... I think...”
“Consciously, you know that,” Vegeta remarked. “But I believe you could again use the reassurance that what we suffered is the polar opposite of anything that could happen between those boys.”
Goku looked up to his fellow Saiyan. Vegeta’s face was expressionless, waiting for Goku to respond.
“I’m just... I don’t know,” Goku sighed heavily, clasping his drink between his knees so he could run both hands through his hair. “You’re right, Vegeta. I know what you are saying makes sense. I’m just not convinced that... well...” He shook his head. “I guess it’s not really any of my business.”
Vegeta gave a wry smirk.
“Pleasure comes in many forms, Kakkarot,” he stated. “Rest assured.”
Goku turned back to him, a look of disbelief in his eyes.
“Can you say that with certainty?” he asked, almost demanded. Vegeta stared back at him, well aware Goku was asking if he could assure him with personal knowledge. If the clown wanted honesty, he could have it.
“Yes,” the prince spoke evenly, “I can.”
Under different circumstances, Vegeta might have laughed at the way Goku’s eyes bulged in surprise. Vegeta calmly drank his coffee, waiting for the next line of questioning. Goku was silent for a long time.
“Do you think that they really love each other?” he asked when he finally spoke.
“They say that they do -- that is all that is relevant,” Vegeta replied. “You worry for nothing. They are smart boys, who I doubt would enter into such an arrangement lightly. Personally, I believe their affection to be genuine.”
“You always knew,” Goku spoke, shaking his head. “I guess it’s been a long time coming.”
“Mm,” Vegeta agreed.
Goku sighed, resting his head in his hands as he thought. He was sure Vegeta was right. But it was hard to stretch his imagination to accept that intimacy between men could be anything but uncomfortable. He knew that physical displays of affection were important in a relationship... and he just didn’t want his son to go through life not knowing that sex could be beautiful, not to mention fun. He knew that what he and Vegeta had shared was not intimacy, but he wasn’t physically forced. He couldn’t imagine any amount of finesse making that act a pleasure.
Goku turned his head, watching the prince drink his coffee. Vegeta’s openness thus far made him bold.
“You’ve had good sex with a man?”
The prince choked on his drink, inhaling most of it and spitting the rest back into his cup.
“By the Gods, Kakkarot!” he exclaimed, flustered.
“I’m not trying to be vulgar!” Goku insisted hastily, watching the other Saiyan wipe the coffee from his chin. “It’s just, you said you had ‘unfortunate experience’. You never said ‘good experience’.”
Vegeta stood, setting down his mug and retrieving his glass tumbler as he walked to the bar. The younger Saiyan did have a point, but his experience -- unfortunate or otherwise -- was always something that he kept to himself. He grabbed the closest bottle of scotch and filled his glass to the rim.
“I will assume your experience begins, and ends, with your wife?” Vegeta asked, not turning back.
“Well... yeah,” Goku admitted. He had never given girls much thought before he got married. And since -- well, he was married. He never thought about another besides Chi Chi... and those few times about the prince himself. But he didn’t know what he was thinking about Vegeta.
“Then why assume that there is no pleasure to be had outside of what you know?” He turned to Goku, trying to put it into words the younger man could understand. “A defeat does not steal the delight in other battles.” He took a large gulp of the alcohol, feeling Goku’s eyes on him. Why couldn’t he just understand?
Goku took a deep breath, scooting over to Vegeta’s side of the sofa, closer to where the other man stood.
“You can’t compare this to battle,” he began quietly. “It’s not the same.”
“Isn’t it?” Vegeta frowned. “Battles between enemies are a fight for dominance. To dominate your opponent, to utterly destroy and humiliate him by proving your superior strength.”
“But our spars are nothing like that,” Goku replied, shaking his head. “Sure, both of us want to win, but we fight for the love of fighting.”
Vegeta’s eyebrow slowly rose and he cocked his head to the side as he watched the younger Saiyan.
“And how does that not parallel the act of lovers?”
Goku felt a blush of embarrassment so hot, he feared his face might be shining like a beacon.
“You... you mean... us?” he choked out.
Vegeta’s eyes grew wide as he suddenly realized how he had just compared his own relationship with the third class to a relationship quite different. He drained his glass.
“Of course I do not mean us,” he stated, licking the alcohol from his lips. He definitely needed coffee now. “I would never suggest -”
“I’m not suggesting!” Goku insisted. “It just, for a moment... well, you were talking about us and then... I mean, defeats and battles...” Vegeta rubbed his forehead wearily, his thoughts swirling as he listened to the other man stammer. “I know that you were just trying to explain, but for a second I was confused.” Goku felt his face growing hotter, but he could not stop the rush of words streaming from his mouth. “I know that you would never mean, well, while our battle relationship was made up for, I know that you weren’t meaning --”
“I can’t make it up to you, Kakkarot -- we are married!” Vegeta snapped before he could think.
Goku finally ran out of words. He stared blankly at the prince. He could see the tension in Vegeta’s neck as it again dawned on him that he had said the wrong thing.
“It is late,” Vegeta said tightly. He looked with disgust at the empty glass in his hand and turned to set it on the bar. How could he put himself in a position to speak so freely?! When he turned back around, he found Goku no longer looked embarrassed.
“Thanks for talking with me, Vegeta,” the tall Saiyan spoke, standing. “I really needed to work out the way I was feeling, and it’s good to know that I have friends to help with that.”
Vegeta felt dazed by the third class’ sudden change in demeanor. Maybe he hadn’t taken his words the way they sounded...
“I did nothing. But, whatever.” He gave a nod, moving toward the door. “Good night.”
“Good night,” Goku replied, watching Vegeta leave. The prince did not look back.
Goku took a deep breath and settled back onto the sofa. His feelings of uneasiness were replaced by a tug of guilt. He would never have wished to exchange his discomfort with the prince. He felt selfish, pressuring Vegeta for answers to questions that were really irrelevant. What was it he wanted to know exactly? Of one thing he was certain: he received many answers tonight. Unfortunately, some of those answers raised questions he was not sure that even he had the courage to ever ask.
~~~~~~~~~~
Bulma grabbed her purse and crossed the living room to the east wing of the house where the nursery was. She hadn’t seen Vegeta this morning, but could tell by the condition of his side of the bed that he had been there for at least some part of the night. She had a feeling since they had worked out the living situation so nicely the night before, Vegeta would be doing less of his vanishing act.“Hey, Goku?” Bulma asked, poking her head into the nursery. The Saiyan looked up from where he was dressing the dark-haired twin.
“Yeah?”
“Have you seen Vegeta yet today?” she asked.
Goku took a deep breath.
“No. But by his ki, he’s out in the back yard.”
“Thanks.” She gave him a wink before turning back and making her way to the patio. She found the prince sitting in one of the outdoor lounge chairs, staring out into the large expanse of land on which Capsule Corp sat. She leaned over the back of the chair and kissed him on the top of his head. “I’m going to go pick up Bulla,” she told him. The Prince tilted his head to look up at her.
“Are you coming straight back?” he asked.
“Yep. Unless she wants a quick shopping distraction,” Bulma replied, reaching past him and taking the cup from his hand. She took a sip before continuing. “If she does, we’ll be back before dinner for sure. Good tea.”
Vegeta retrieved the cup from her, giving a nod. Bulma kissed him again, this time on the cheek, before crossing back through the house to the front door.
Stepping out into the warm, sunny morning, Bulma smiled as she watched her friend’s hover car settle at the end of the front walk.
“Good morning, sunshine!” Yamucha called to her, slipping on a pair of sunglasses as he stepped from the vehicle. “I came to spoil your lunch!” He held up a blue and white bakery sack and a cardboard tray that held two cups. “Cappuccino and crullers.”
“I could kill you,” Bulma laughed, meeting him in the middle of the sidewalk. “But I’ve warned you that fattening me up will do you no good. Vegeta likes it when I have a little extra meat on my bones.”
The handsome fighter grimaced as she snatched the bag from his hand. His smile soon returned.
“Ah, I can’t pretend that the man doesn’t have fine taste.” Bulma chuckled, biting into the fluffy pastry.
“Come with me,” she suggested, balancing the doughnut and bag as she opened her capsule case. “I have to pick up Bulla, and I have lots of news to share. Lots of news.”
Yamucha smirked, handing her one of the coffee cups and tossing the carrier into his own car.
“I don’t trust that look in your eye. The last time I saw that look, I was addressing baby shower invites... Of course --” He gave a faraway stare, turning his eyes toward the clouds. “-- there was that one time I didn’t mind that look... it took three weeks for the ligature marks to fade...”
Bulma placed the doughnut in her mouth to free up a hand to slap him with. The ex-bandit laughed heartily.
“Sorry, B. I couldn’t resist.” Bulma gave a sigh, but smiled as she rolled her eyes.
“Get in the car,” she instructed.
They lifted off from the Briefs’ property and started toward Kame House. Yamucha settled back into his seat, turning slightly to face his friend.
“So what’s the big news?” he asked, taking a gulp of his cappuccino.
“A couple of things,” Bulma replied, her grin widening. “First: dinner --”
“Oh yeah,” he cut in. “That was one of my reasons for coming over. How’d that go?”
“Great,” she smiled broadly. “We had a nice talk, and we all decided that the arrangement is fine as-is. They’re staying!”
Yamucha smiled as well, reaching over to give her shoulder a squeeze.
“That’s great, babe!” he spoke. “If it’s what you all want, more power to you.”
“Thanks,” she returned, beaming proudly. “But there’s more!”
The fighter raised an eyebrow.
“Oh? Lemme guess: To celebrate, you’re throwing a party?”
“Oh, there’ll be a party, smart ass,” she informed him. “But listen to this : ...” Yamucha listened patiently to her tale of the phone call that cut dinner short, and her and Vegeta’s trip to Krillin’s that same evening.
“Dear Kami, Bulma,” he groaned, “please don’t tell me if she started her period or something...”
“It’s not that,” she insisted. “Although, this ranks up there on the trauma scale...”
“Then why do you seem so happy?” he asked suspiciously. Bulma’s smile widened.
“Because I met Trunks’ secret significant other,” she explained.
“No shit?!” Yamucha exclaimed. “Well? What happened? I thought he was baby sitting -- oh shit! What did Bulla see?”
Bulma held up a hand to silence him.
“So, we get there,” she continued dramatically, placing the car in ‘hover’ so she could pay attention to him without worrying about where she was driving. “And Trunks had to fess up because Bulla did catch him kissing someone.”
“Who?!” Yamucha pressed. Bulma’s reply was practically a shout.
“Goten!”
Yamucha stared blankly at her, blinking a few times as he digested this information.
“Trunks...” he began slowly. “Was kissing... Goten?” Bulma nodded. “...Son Goten?”
Bulma laughed.
“And then they told us all that they have been secretly seeing each other for a month and that they are in love!” She put the car back in motion as she finished. “It would have been a perfect evening if poor Bulla hadn’t found out that way. Ugh...”
Yamucha frowned, mulling over what his friend had just told him.
“I’m sorry, Bulma,” he said with a chuckle, “but did you just tell me that Trunks and Goten... came out to the four of you last night?”
“Well, not the four of us,” she shrugged. “Apparently, Vegeta has known for -- well, who knows how long.”
“And what are his feelings about this?”
“I haven’t really had the chance to interrogate him on the subject. He came to bed after I was asleep, and he was up before I woke. He doesn’t appear to care in the slightest.”
“And... Chi Chi?” Yamucha asked nervously. Bulma laughed.
“Are you kidding? She adores Trunks! But I have to admit that I was a little surprised by how easily she accepted it... must have been the high from deciding to live with us for good.” Yamucha continued to look amazed.
“Wow... this is sure... wow.”
“I know,” Bulma exclaimed. “But they’ve always been so close. Inseparable...” She set the capsule car down in front of Kame House, and she and Yamucha walked across the small patch of lawn to the front door.
“Good morning,” Krillin greeted, looking more than a little haggard.
“Was she that bad?” Yamucha asked him as they shook hands in greeting.
“No... I just didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“I know it’s tough, hon,” Bulma spoke to him. “But it won’t be the last time you see your little girl cry. Man up.”
Krillin didn’t look comforted.
“But if she cries like that over losing a cd, what happens if she gets her heart broken?! I’ll be devastated!”
Yamucha smirked.
“Don’t you mean ‘she’ll’ be devastated?” he inquired. “Besides, I think I can guarantee that crying over a boy is just about the same as this...” Bulma gave him a cool glance. Yamucha was glad for the distraction when the princess came into the room. “There’s my best girl!” he exclaimed. “How was the sleepover?”
“Fine,” she shrugged, leaning against the tall warrior as he put an arm around her.
“Only fine?” he asked. “Well, we’ll have to see what we can do to make the day better.”
“Why don’t you two talk about it in the car?” Bulma suggested. “I’m going to talk to Krillin and 18 about Saturday.”
Yamucha gave a nod and escorted the pre-teen from the house. Krillin looked nervously to the blue-haired genius.
“What? I’m familiar with the secret language of parents. What’s up?”
“Where’s 18?” Bulma asked quietly, ignoring his question.
“She’s in the bedroom working on the household budget,” he replied. “What’s going on?”
Bulma gave a jerk of her head, motioning him to follow, before passing through the small house to Krillin and 18’s bedroom. They found the blonde sitting on the bed with an open journal and a stack of papers in front of her. 18 raised an eyebrow in interest.
“Good morning,” Bulma greeted, pulling the shorter man into the room and shutting the door. “I’ll make this brief so it doesn’t seem obvious that we’re back here talking about last night, but I thought you might like to know what has Bulla and Marron so out-of-sorts.”
“Yes!” Krillin replied eagerly. “What is it!?”
Bulma smirked, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Both girls found out that the boys they have crushes on are both taken.”
“Trunks and Goten,” 18 stated with a nod of understanding. “I figured as much.”
“Yeah,” Krillin agreed sadly, but added: “But I bet it’s nothing like what you thought it was!”
18 turned to Bulma.
“Who are they dating?” she asked. Bulma couldn’t help her grin.
“Each other!” A small squeaking sound escaped the ex-monk, but he was otherwise silent. 18 merely nodded again. “Well, I have to go. I’m so sorry if Marron is hurt badly because of this. I feel really bad for the kids.”
“She’ll be fine,” 18 assured her. “It might take a few days, but Trunks never acted inappropriately or encouragingly to her, so you have no reason to apologize.”
“But still...” Bulma said. “If there is anything I can do...” She opened the door to leave, but turned back to speak. “Oh, we’re having a barbeque on Saturday. See you there!”
18 turned to her husband, watching him stare blankly at the empty doorway. Reaching out, she gently placed a hand on his back.
“Darling...” she spoke warmly to him. “You owe me.”
“Not even Bulma has the kind of money you bet me over this!” he exclaimed, turning to her. “I got carried away by emotion!” His wife gave him a smirking smile.
“We’ll work something out...”
When Bulma returned to the car, she found Bulla sitting in the back seat with her arms crossed, looking strikingly like her father. Yamucha was chatting idly about Saturday’s barbeque.
“Did you have fun?” Bulma asked her daughter as they started for home. The pre-teen shrugged.
“I guess.”
Bulma studied the girl in her rearview mirror a moment, trying to gauge how angry and hurt she was at the moment.
“I found your cds,” she told the child, causing her to look up at her mother’s eyes reflecting in the mirror. “They were in the den.”
“Oh,”
The remainder of the car ride home was relatively silent. Yamucha and Bulma made a few comments about the weekend weather forecast and seeing old friends, but nothing the princess chimed in on. Once the aircar touched pavement, Bulla was out.
“How do you think she’s taking this?” Yamucha asked his friend, following her to the house.
“Well, if she’s like me, she’ll be fine if she got to blow up about it already.” She grimaced as she finished, “But if she’s like her daddy, she’ll simmer about it for weeks.”
“Hm...” he remarked before asking, “Which one is worse?”
“Well... neither one is too bad... Worse, I suppose, would be being her usual unexpected self. And if I know my daughter, she’s not one to be predictable.” She opened the door and motioned the fighter in. “We’ll just need to see which is stronger,” she added in a hushed tone. “Her crush on Goten, or her love for her brother.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Trunks looked out the window of his bedroom when he heard a car door slam. His mother had just brought Bulla home. There was no use putting off the inevitable.“Well,” he said, turning to Goten, who sat on the side of the bed, “wish me luck.”
“I want to go with you,” Goten replied, standing. “There is safety in numbers.”
The older teen gave a weak smile.
“Thanks, but I want to talk to her alone first.”
Goten frowned, but nodded.
“Fine,” he agreed, crossing to stand in front of his friend. “But first, let me have one last look at this face -- to remember you by.”
“Shut up,” Trunks sighed. “Give me a few minutes alone with her.”
Goten nodded again, giving him a hearty clap on the back.
“Good luck, man.”
Trunks walked to the opposite end of the house to where Bulla’s room was. He passed through the living room, giving a nod of greeting to his parents and to Yamucha. He ignored the cheshire-cat grin on the human warrior’s face. He could only concentrate on one traumatic event at a time.
Bulla’s door was closed and he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to compose himself, before raising a fist and knocking lightly.
“Bul?” he called through. “It’s Trunks. May I come in?”
There was a moment of silence before his sister’s voice finally answered.
“Yeah.”
Trunks took another deep breath before opening the door and walking inside. Bulla was sitting on her bed, holding a pillow in her lap. Her face was impassive and unreadable, and she regarded him neither warmly or coldly. Trunks shut the door behind himself.
“I wanted to talk to you,” he began. The princess arched an eyebrow, but remained silent. “About last night,” he finished as he settled on the end of the bed. The pre-teen shrugged.
“What about it?” she asked casually. Trunks grimaced, everything he had prepared to say now suddenly gone from his mind.
“Well...” he began again, “I wanted to say that I’m sorry you had to find out that way.”
Her eyebrow rose again.
“Find out about what?”
Trunks sighed, scooting closer to his little sister.
“Bulla...” he started tenderly, “Goten and I are... more than just friends.” The princess sighed heavily, rolling her eyes. Trunks continued quickly, reaching out to take her hand. “I never in a million years would want to hurt you, and I’m so sorry if you are hurt... So please, please don’t hate me.”
Bulla smirked as she scrutinized her brother. She was torn between being angry, and not knowing how to feel at all.
“So you’re,” she began cautiously, “boyfriends?”
Trunks nodded.
“I suppose that’s what it is.”
The princess grimaced, squinting her eyes to keep them from burning and willing away the tears. Trunks’ expression remained concerned, yet hopeful and earnest. Bulla sighed again.
“I could never hate you,” she grumbled, pulling her hand away.
“Are you mad?” he asked. “Mad at me?” She shook her head. Trunks’ voice dropped and he asked quietly, “Mad at Goten?”
Bulla’s brow furrowed momentarily before she answered.
“No. But I can’t guarantee Marron won’t be...” Her stomach ached at the thought of being mad at the handsome, dark-haired teen. He had always made her so happy.
Trunks didn’t address the statement about Marron. ‘One trauma at a time’ was his mantra for the day.
A soft knock on the door preceded Goten’s voice.
“Can I come in?”
“Sure,” Bulla replied. As the other Saiyan entered the room, Bulla pulled her feet up onto the bed and leaned on her elbows on the pillow.
“How was the sleep-over?” the teen asked, trying to sound sincere. Bulla stared at him.
“Are you serious?” she asked.
Goten shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans, suddenly self-conscious.
“You mad at me?” was his next question.
“No,” she replied lightly. “You can’t help it if you like boys.”
Goten’s mouth dropped open, but he recovered quickly.
“I can’t,” he agreed, pushing the older teen out of the way so he could settle on the bed across from the princess. “But you have plenty of guys bowing at your feet. In a couple of days, you’ll have forgotten about having this simple country boy around at your beck and call. I could never compete. You’re too much woman for me.”
“Obviously,” she replied dryly. Goten laughed.
“Ouch,”
“Besides,” Bulla proclaimed, giving a toss of her hair, “it’s not that I care because I like you. I’m just mad that you kept it secret. I thought we were all friends.”
Trunks and Goten looked to each other.
“I’m sorry, Bulla,” Trunks admitted. “We just wanted to make sure it was right for us before telling everyone. We didn’t want it to be weird for everyone if it didn’t work out.”
“Right,” Bulla stated with a sour smile. “’Cause this way is so totally not weird.”
Goten laughed.
“You got us there!” he stated. “But we would have told you first -- after Vegeta, I mean. Right after Trunks, you are my best friend!”
“I’m an eleven year old girl, Goten,” she told him. “You need to get out more.”
Both boys laughed at the remark, but the princess’ expression remained straight.
“So, we’re cool, right?” Goten asked.
“I’m cool,” Bulla clarified. “You are now as dorky as your brother and your boyfriend.”
Trunks sighed.
“Goten, you are now dorky by association.” The younger teen snapped his fingers.
“Damn. Oh, well...”
Bulla tossed her pillow aside, rising from the bed.
“I have things to do now, guys,” she stated. They stood as well, following her to the door. “I’d let you stay in here, but now I twice as much don’t trust you alone. Certainly not in my room.”
“Bulla,” Trunks began with a grimace.
“Like I haven’t caught you two fooling around before.” She shook her head. “It makes so much sense now.”
The lavender haired prince turned to his sister, halting her motion to leave.
“You are okay, right?” he asked, sincerely concerned for her wellbeing. She gave an expression of amusement.
“Why wouldn’t I be? If I had liked Goten, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway since he’s, like, a hundred years older than me.”
“Ouch again,” Goten remarked, a little less amused this time. Trunks gave his sister a one-armed hug.
“Good. I’m sorry we kept it secret from you. You will still hang out with us, right?”
“I’ll think about it,” she replied. “There is a sale at the mall this weekend...”
“And it just so happens my weekend is free,” Trunks replied. The princess gave a nod. “Come on, Goten.”
“Bye, sport,” Goten said, giving the pre-teen’s shoulder a squeeze. “You rock.”
Bulla watched them as they disappeared down the staircase. Inside, she felt a bit numb and cold. As if her heart ceased to beat and blood no longer flowed into her hands. She had liked Goten so much...
But she adored her brother. And nothing was more important than blood.
Slowly she turned, intending to go back into her room when she spied her parents’ door was ajar and headed that way instead. Her father was alone inside, sitting back on the bed, looking through a book. He turned his gaze to her, observing her a moment before speaking.
“Yes?”
Bulla pushed open the door and moved to the bedside, her hands clasped behind her.
“What are you doing?” she asked him as he placed the small black book into the nightstand drawer.
“I was going to take a nap,” he replied. “What are you doing?”
She shrugged.
The prince watched the girl as she twisted her toes into the carpet, her eyes downcast, her expression sullen.
“Something on your mind?” he prompted, folding his arms across his chest.
“I was wondering if you’d like to spar... that’s all...” she spoke quietly.
Vegeta felt that awful twisting in his gut upon hearing her words. He didn’t want his children to have the cold, isolated existence he’d had. Trunks somehow managed to navigate the emotional aspect of relationships. Bulla, he feared, was too like himself.
“I’m tired,” he stated, causing her to look up in surprise. “You look tired as well. Sparring can wait.”
Bulla considered his words a moment, before climbing over him onto the bed. She lay down at his side, folding an arm beneath her head. Vegeta sat with his back against the headboard, watching the princess as he tried to decide what to say. If he should say anything at all.
“Just so you know,” he began, trying not to sound gruff, “control of your feelings does not mean not acknowledging them.” Bulla turned her eyes up to him. “Or expressing them.”
He looked down into her large, azure eyes, feeling slightly unsure of what her reaction would be. He had always been emotionally distant from his children. Was it too late to change that now?
Bulla gave a nod, her mouth pinched closed. There was silence between them.
As if defeated, the princess dropped her head against her father’s side, one hand clutching into the fabric of his shirt, and she shook with quiet sobs.
Vegeta gave an inward sigh of relief, placing a hand on his little girl’s back. He didn’t want her to build up the emotional walls that he knew were so difficult to tear down. She would be strong without being withdrawn from those who loved her. And when she did grow and find love, she wouldn’t put her spouse through what he had subjected Bulma to.
Carefully, Vegeta pulled the child closer to him, letting her cling to him as she purged her emotions.
“It’s not fair, Papa.” Bulla’s voice was quiet, muffled against his side. “Trunks could have anyone he wanted.”
Vegeta couldn’t refute her statement. He was well aware of the attention his son drew in public. Gently, he smoothed a hand over her hair.
“He wanted Goten,” he explained softly.
Bulla shuddered as she sucked back her tears, raising her watery gaze to her father.
“Well... yeah...” She pulled herself up to wrap her arm around her father. “I guess I can’t blame him,” she grumbled.
“Indeed.”
“But it still sucks,” she continued. She considered his last statement a moment. Hearing her father say that Trunks had chosen Goten was more potent than hearing Trunks admit that they were boyfriends. “Trunks will be happy with Goten... I think,” she mused quietly. Vegeta watched her without comment. “I suppose Goten would be the only one he could be happy with...” She wiped at her tears. “And... it’s not like I can’t have anyone I want, excluding Goten.” She grimaced, but continued in an easy tone, “I wouldn't mind having a boyfriend like soccer star Jason Jones.... or video game mogul Rowen Tairyoku ... Ooo, or Yuu O!”
“That singing boy?” Vegeta asked with a grunt of distaste.
“Pop idol, Papa,” she explained. A smug smile turned her lips as she continued. “Or maybe I will just date all of them...”
Vegeta sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. He almost wished she would have grieved a bit longer, and now he really needed that nap.
Bulla was quiet at her father’s side and the conversation between them ceased. She gave a final, cleansing sigh, closing her eyes as well. She could pretend all she wanted, but her heart still ached for the dream ofa happy relationship with the warm, funny, good-looking young Saiyan that she had grown up around and grown comfortable with. Trunks had known him longer, she supposed, and it was not like he would be out of her life. Just out of her reach.
And she doubted there would ever be another one like him.
~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: What is with me not getting much writing done! Gah! Sorry this update took so long (it took forever to type up!). I really hope you all enjoyed it. Can you believe that we are up to chapter 70??? I know I can't!! I really must learn how to write one-shots! lol. Anyway, chapter 70 is already underway. Thanks for all of the support guys, here and at the DBZ Fanfic Salon! *HUGS* -Bdie.