Lost
AN: Inspired by a picture I found on the net at ww w.gotyaoi.c om/paco/archive/anime/dragonball/artwork/vegechan/24.html
The prince's hand was under his chin, a gentle, almost loving touch, and their lips were only inches apart. If he'd only lean forward a little then maybe, finally – With a curse, Vegeta spun away, leaving his opponent on the other side of the clearing that their fight had created. Goku's shoulders slumped."Vegeta, why?" Why do this to him? Never completely rejecting him, making tentative gestures and then pulling away. It hurt. Goku's chest ached with the strain of uncertainty, of not knowing how the prince felt about him. One minute fighting, the next so close to kissing that he couldn't think – until the shorter man moved away, broke the moment. It was always like that when they fought. Long periods of almost realised emotions separated by furious battle. But this time he would get an answer.
Gloved fists clenched, the prince still facing away from the only other remaining Saiyan. "Bulma." Bulma. Vegeta's mate, mother to his son. One of Goku's oldest friends. Guilt stabbed him, and he looked away, glad that Vegeta's back was turned. He never thought of her when the prince came into his mind. It was only ever him.
The prince took an audible breath, steeling himself. "I love her. You are, are the last of the Saiyans, the only other one to know what it is to be a Saiyan," the only one who could truly understand what he felt in battle, how alien Saiyan instincts were to human ones. It was the main part of what drew them, Goku knew. "But she is my mate, and I will not do this."
Vegeta's ki rose as he burst into Super Saiyan and whirled to face Goku. The fight had begun again.