TITLE: Bad Habit (1/2)
PAIRING: Vegeta/Goku
RATING: R
SUMMARY: Goku returns from training with Shenlong after five years and Vegeta realises on his birthday that old habits die hard.
A/N: HHNNNNGH I haven't written fanfiction in 3 years, but recently with my revival of my DBZ love, I churned out this. Part one of a two-parter. Post GT, trying to stay as canon as possible up to five years after he leaves.
I can't stop thinking about him. He's in my mind constantly.
I hate him. I hate his stupid smile, his unruly hair, his eyes that make me feel almost... happy.
I hate his happiness. It's contagious.
But... don't I want to be happy too?
Maybe I spend too much time with him. That's probably it. We spend too much time together. I should be sick of him by now, after all these years of fighting. Fighting each other, fighting evil together, training, sparring - even just fighting over the last morsel of food at dinner. And he always laughed everything off. He even fought with a smile. He was happy.
I wasn't happy. There was so many things I was, but I wasn't happy.
Arrogant. Proud. Sadistic. Evil.
A father. A sometimes lover. A fighter.
A villain. An anti-hero. A loner. Nobody's friend except my own.
Misunderstood. Invited to dinner parties, but never talked to. Pitied.
Ashamed of myself.
Lonely. Horribly lonely.
The woman had broken off our relationship years ago. She didn't need me since the children had grown up and she couldn't handle our long bouts of fucking anymore. Plus she had that human idiot with the scars on her face and I, well, I was a big boy and I should be able to take care of myself.
I still have a room in the house, but some nights I slept under the stars. It was in those times that I realised I had no-one.
Except Kakarott.
And I was obsessed with the man.
He'd come back two years ago, after flying off with Shenlong for five years. It was strange, he turned up on my doorstep when I least expected it. The night before I had was the night I admitted to myself that I needed him. That I was so lonely without him. That I couldn't survive without him.
He just turned up with that smile on his face and asked if I wanted to spar.
His wife had married another, their marriage void after his many deaths and abandonments so there was no reason for divorce. The brats had moved out, got married, had kids of their own. He had a capsule house and he hunted his own food.
We were friends. He came to my house every morning to train. Then we had lunch. Then we trained some more. Then he went home. Sometimes we'd have dinner and reminisce about the old days. We were friends.
If he didn't show up, I'd have panic attacks.
I couldn't fall asleep at night without thinking of his face, or fighting him, or talking to him... his body, the way it moved... the way he smelt... The thought of him made me nervous, yet excited. My body betrayed me in the mornings after dreaming of him. Nothing a cold shower could cure, but this morning was different.
I closed my eyes and let my hand stray. I usually slept naked so it was a simple case of push the sheets back and let go. Or hold on. All I had to do was think of him, a few quick pumps and I was done, coming into my fist and nearly calling out his name- "Kkkkkaka-nnnnggghh..."
No! I would not have desires for that overgrown bastard. Ever.
Oh, but I did. I very much did. I hated him. I hated him for making me feel this way. And I was passionate about my hate. I hated him deeply. So much that I wanted to... no...
I was so conflicted as I cleaned my hand with my tongue, feeling my cock getting hard again. I willed my erection away and found myself biting my thumbnail. Grinding it between my teeth, I ripped the crescent shaped nail off and spat it into my hand. Reduced to biting my nails like a nervous child. Again. I only stopped when Frieza was dead.
There was a reason I wore gloves.
Ten minutes later, I'd opened up the old scars that had healed all those years ago. My teeth pulled at the rough skin and soon my fingertips were bleeding.
I was biting my fingernails because I was passionately in l... I wanted... oh gods, I couldn't even confess to myself. When my fingers looked like bloody stumps, only then did I feel any sort of comfort. I shook my head and took to the bathroom, bandaging my fingers up and putting on my white gloves, hoping to god they wouldn't stain red.
Why did this pitiful attempt at self-mutilation make me feel better?
Kakarott came over soon afterwards. I'd dressed and was in the kitchen, looking for something to eat. I settled on a box of cereal and a pitcher of milk. I could have eaten more, but that bastard had put me off my breakfast.
I felt his presence, and then heard his voice, "Hey! You ready?"
And then he was before me, in his stupid blue gi and yellow pants, his usual pleasant look on his face.
"Do I look ready?" I said, sitting down at the kitchen table with a salad bowl fulled to the brim with - I read the box quickly - Satan-Os.
He frowned, "No, you're eating breakfast."
"Thank you, Captain Obvious." I muttered and started eating, glaring at him as he, of course, started helping himself to my food.
"You're welcome." came the reply from the pantry, "Oops, better not eat that cake. Looks important."
Cake? I stopped mid chew. Cake in the pantry meant one thing. I looked at the calender on the wall. It wasn't Trunks or Bura's birthday, it certainly wasn't the woman's birthday or I would have been bombarded with demands for gifts.
Oh Kami, really? How old was I now? I did the maths in my head. In human years I was 65 years old. Over the hill for humans, while in Saiyan years I was still in my prime.
"Hey... it's got your name on it!" Kakarott's voice interrupted my thoughts, "And a note." The fool came out, teetering the plate of cake on his index finger and clutching a piece of paper up to his face.
"'Dear Vegeta,'" Kakarott said, spinning the cake on his finger. If he dropped it, he could clean it up. I didn't care. I ate my cereal and watched him expectantly as he continued, "'Happy Birthday! I have a function dinner three towns over, so I wont be here this evening, but here's a cake. Have a great day! From Bulma, xoxo.'" He stopped spinning the cake. It wobbled precariously. Frowning slightly, he continued. "'P.S. There's a bottle of champagne in the fridge. Yamcha brought it for tonight, but he forgot I prefer red.'"
Great. The woman is taking that old loser with her. Even I know the woman likes her Merlot. Hope he slips a disc.
Kakarott put the cake down on the table. "Hey, if you're alone tonight, wanna hang out? I know you hate birthdays, but you're gonna need help eating that cake." he suggested, giving me an eager look.
Sure, Kakarott. You'd gladly fall on that sword, wouldn't you, you glutton.
"You can have the whole damn cake to yourself if you want." I muttered into my breakfast.
"Really?" he grinned, but stopped himself before he got too excited, shaking his head and pushing the plate towards me. "No, it's your cake, you should eat it."
"I really don't give a fuck." I said, slurping the leftover milk down before pushing my bowl away, "Forget about it. Let's spar."
"Alright!" he exclaimed, waiting for me to put my dishes away. Only the promise of fighting could sway Kakarott's thoughts away from food. I swear, if it wasn't for his stomach growling when it was empty, he'd fight forever and starve.
As soon as I put the bowl back in its shelf, he grabbed my arm and teleported us to our usual spot.
We sparred for hours. We had a lunch break with wood-fire smoked fish, digested and got right back to it. It was a normal sparring session, that was, until he noticed my hands.
"Hey 'Geta, stop." he said, grabbing my hand mid-punch. His fingers grabbed my wrist and my hand relaxed in his grip. I looked to my hand, to see that my fingertips were bleeding through my gloves. We hadn't drawn first blood yet; we rarely do anymore.
I pulled my hand away. "It's nothing." I answered his silent question. Suddenly, I didn't want to fight anymore. I slipped out of Super Saiyan and landed on the ground.
"Well, it's obviously something." Kakarott pointed out, following suit. When I didn't answer, he stretched (I could hear his muscles popping). "Hoo-ee, I think we should call it a day. I'm starving." He said, changing the subject like a good friend. (Good to me, anyway. I hated talking about things.)
When I didn't reply a second time, he replied to himself in a mock impression of my own voice, "'Yeah, great spar Kakarott! I can tell I'm getting stronger than you! We should totally go eat that cake now!'" I couldn't help but smirk at that, so I looked at him. Oh Kami, he was actually doing the hand puppet gesture and everything. The things that man did to see me smile.
"Fine. Let's fly back." I said with a defeated smile, taking off to the sky. I didn't want to get home too early, there wasn't anyone at home just yet. He joined me, flying behind me like he usually did. I wondered if he was thinking about me, staring at my feet... or my backside. Because that's what I did when I flew behind him, whether I liked to admit it or not.
We flew for about an hour in silence (it's hard to talk when you're flying as fast as a jet plane), until he suddenly he stopped. It was getting dark; the sun was setting in the west as we flew over the arctic tundra.
"Wow! Look at that!" he exclaimed, pointing upwards. Looking up, I noticed we were flying through some streaky green light in the sky. It was very beautiful, although I didn't admit it out loud. I said nothing as he flew down onto a small iceberg, staring up at the natural phenomena in childish wonder.
I landed nearby, just to see him sit down and watch up at it. Shaking my head, I joined him at his side. "It's not everyday we see things like this." he said, not effected by the cold.
I guess this was pretty out of the ordinary, sitting on a hunk of ice at sunset, no humans around for hundreds of miles, staring up at a purple and green sky.
"Have you ever seen something more beautiful in your life?" he whispered, looking at me suddenly. I met his eye before looking back up at the aurora. He was sitting Indian style, leaning back on his hands. His hair moved gently in the soft, cool breeze and his eyes reflected the sunset and... oh Kami, hand me a bucket. The man was revoltingly gorgeous.
Besides the obvious answer, the one about his eyes and his smile that just seemed so corny to say out loud, I settled for second best. "Sunsets on Vegeta-sei." I said, hugging my knees at the memories, resting my chin on my wrist and looking upwards, "Not so... green, but more beautiful and rare than this."
Kakarott nodded slowly and then sat up straight, "Oh! Hold on, I'll be right back." he said, raising his fingers to his forehead and blinking out of sight.
I sat alone, on an iceburg, in the middle of nowhere. It was starting to get cold and I was only wearing a singlet, track pants, boots and gloves. But as quickly as he went, Kakarott came back, this time with my birthday cake in one hand and the bottle of champagne in the other. He pushed the bottle of wine into my hands. I started to splutter a protest but he put the cake in front of me, lighting the candle in the middle with his ki.
"Make a wish." he whispered, the candle-light illuminating the small space between our faces.
I snorted and gave him a look of mild disdain. Today had been a good day, why was he ruining it by bringing up my birthday, especially with these ningen traditions. I supposed he was trying to be cute or make me happy or something like that.
"Come on, Vegeta, make one!" the idiot persisted, "Who knows? It might come true."
"Fine." I rolled my eyes and "I wish that-"
"-No! Don't say it out loud, or it wont work!"
I sighed and started peeling the foil off the champagne bottle. Might as well wish for something that I really wanted. It wasn't going to come true anyway.
To end this loneliness once and for all.
I wished that Kakarott would realise my love for him and kiss me.
Hah, like that'll happen.
I blew out the candle.
Kakarott's smile went with the flame. He blinked, looking confused and then like he realised something. He shrugged and smiled again, helping himself to the cake and snickering quietly.
"What's so funny?" I asked, popping off the top of the champagne bottle with a loud -pop-.
As I took a swig and he ate a handful of cake, he said through his mouthful, "I guess this is the bit where I tell you that your wish can't be granted."
I nearly choked on the sweet bubbly wine. How did he know what I wished for? "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I demanded, and he took the wine from my hands and handed me the cake.
"Well, when I went off with Shenlong, I absorbed the Dragon Balls. I kinda figured I could grant wishes." he said, sucking icing off his fingers. "And turns out I can. And that your wish can't be granted, because it's already so. Well, half so."
I stared at him, dumbfounded. "But... but you don't even know what I wished for!" I said, staring at his lips, and realised that he was only a couple of inches away from where I was sitting.
He took his finger out of his mouth and cupped my chin in his hand. I was frozen in shock as he leaned in and whispered, "Vegeta... I came back for you, so you wouldn't have to be lonely. Plus I already know you have feelings for me."
He looked into my eyes, brushed away a bead of wine from my lips. "Kakarott..." I breathed, but before I could say anything, he leaned in and whispered against my lips,
"I was going to kiss you anyway, regardless what you wished for."
He closed the small space between us. I let him kiss me, let his tongue run over mine, let him take advantage of my slack jaw to pilfer my mouth, tasting like chocolate and butter icing and...
...that bastard tricked me! He tricked me into making a wish and confessing my feelings for him! I could have wished for anything! I could have wished for him to leave me alone! I could have wished him out of my life so I could stop suffering!
IDIOT!
I pushed away and shoved the plate I was holding into his face. It stuck to his face in a purely comical manner, but I was too pissed off to laugh at him. Before he could protest, I flew away. I couldn't deal with this right now, it was all too sudden. It wasn't supposed to happen like this.
It wasn't supposed to happen at all.
It was only until I got back to Capsule Corp that I noticed that I was no longer wearing my gloves and my fingers were bleeding.
Licking my lips I could taste the blood I'd drawn... and butter icing.