"What is that? Why are they mashing their mouths like that?"
"Huh?" Bulma glanced over at Vegeta, having been engrossed in writing down a supply request for the lab.
They've made this a habit—having tea early in the morning before they each parted for the day. It was the most convenient window of time for them to discuss any necessary updates or repairs that needed to be done on the gravity room.
Admittedly, Bulma has grown to like it and he didn't seem to mind the routine either since he kept coming back without objections.
Much to her surprise, the saiyan made a decent companion in the early hours of the morning, especially for bouncing off or fleshing out ideas. He was quiet mostly, but attentive and receptive to her thoughts. It was pleasant.
Occasionally, however, he asked questions about Earth and humans.
"That can't actually be appealing?"
Her eyes followed his line of sight, finally making sense of the fact he was talking about the couple kissing on the tv screen.
"Not sure if I can explain this one." She smiled. Oh boy. "I wouldn't expect you to understand romance. You're kind of a major prude."
His brow furrowed, baffled. "Romance? What does that have to do with the man on the tv sticking his tongue down that woman's throat?"
"Well Vegeta, when two people really like or are attracted to each other, sometimes they choose to do naughty things together. Maybe that was how you were conceived, but I'm not completely sure if that applies to you."
He chuckled. "I'm not referring to sex, you bizarre woman. Humans always complicate things."
"It's not complicated," she said, shrugging. "They're just kissing."
"Tch. That hardly explains the utility of it. I've never come across this, not even when I have taken lovers. Is this some kind of odd diversion on this planet to pass the time?"
"It has many meanings." She tried not to sound surprised about his passing mention of his sexual history. It's not like it was implausible—it was just wholly unexpected with his uptight behavior. "Usually, people do it because it's pleasurable. Although, it can also communicate other things, like intimacy."
"I suppose the mouth has many pleasurable uses, but I don't understand why you'd specifically use it like that. Is that an erogenous zone for you humans?"
"It can be, among many others," Bulma remarked. "At least it is for me. The lips have many sensitive nerve endings on their own, not just our bodies."
"Hn."
She sipped the last of her tea, eyeing him inquisitively. "So you've never been kissed?"
"No, I've never engaged in this kissing." He seemed a bit displeased. It was a look he frequently had when faced with culture shock on their planet. She knew he hated it—not understanding things and being at a disadvantage. "How ridiculous."
She smiled sympathetically, picking up the tea kettle and pouring herself more. The water was still boiling hot. It'd take some time to be able to drink.
"More tea?" she offered.
He nodded, sliding his cup over. She grabbed it, accidentally grazing his gloved fingers as she poured him some.
"I'm sure you'd be good at it," she commented after a pause, settling down the kettle and playing with her teabag. She left out the part where she had a very inappropriate and ill-timed dream of just that, which she had stupidly told Yamcha about when they were still technically together.
"Is it something that requires skill and training then?" he asked suddenly, earnestly. "Frankly, it does look like a form of sparring. It would be one way to bring an opponent to heel when they least expect it."
She burst out in a fit of giggles. Of course the prince would equate kissing with fighting.
"Just forget it." He looked away self-consciously. "This was foolish. I'll cease this line of questioning at once."
"N-no," she gasped, trying her damndest to reign in her laughter. He didn't know any better. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend. Your questions are valid. It's just that kissing isn't typically so...combative or nefarious. It's like with sex, you know? You do it with someone you like just because you want to."
He crossed his arms petulantly, clearly very offended. "None of those things are mutually exclusive for a saiyan," he said seriously, looking more perplexed than ever.
Now Bulma was having a hard time not imagining Vegeta fight-fucking. She covered her mouth, stopping another fit of laughter.
He sighed, exasperated. "Are you quite finished?"
"S-sorry," she sputtered, inhaling deeply and regarding him, her cheek resting on her hand. "I mean, why ask all of this in the first place? It's not like you'd actually be interested in kissing anyone."
He sipped from his cup or at least pretended to, awfully quiet.
"Right?"
Unless...
He was?
A tempting thought occurred to her then. It was hardly smart. She might drive him off for good this time and she wasn't sure she wanted to lose this arrangement they had going on just yet.
It was too bad playing it safe wasn't her specialty.
Ah, what the hell.
"Would you like to try?" she blurted out.
"What?"
She swallowed, speaking up more assertively, "Kissing me. Do you want to try it?"
He cleared his throat, slightly flustered. "Does it not have a particular connotation for you? Sexually?"
"It...doesn't always have to. It can just be an experience."
There was an awkward silence that fell between them. Maybe she's finally fucked shit up completely and gone too far? Made it too weird?
At least, that's what she thought until his dark eyes snapped up to hers determinedly.
"Fine." He stood up, his arms at his sides. "Show me."
Bulma suddenly felt nervous. Not because she found the suggestion repellant. No, if anything, she realized it was quite the opposite. She simply hadn't anticipated that he'd ever take her up on it, especially so quickly.
The saiyan could be very vitriolic and caustic in his mannerisms, which tended to distract from the fact that he was actually pretty handsome. But now with his sharp features relaxed and lacking his customary hostility, Bulma had to admit she was warming up to the idea of giving him his first smooch. In any case, she did find him attractive, if in an unconventional way. His odd flame-shaped hair was notably alien, but it paired well with his smooth olive skin and angular face. He also had really nicely shaped lips.
Not that Bulma was always thinking about that.
"O-okay." Her heart-rate picked up.
Keep it casual, Briefs. This is just an innocent peck.
Rising up out of her seat, she approached him cautiously. "Let me just set the mood a bit." She leaned close, guiding his gloved hands to her lower back, which he permitted.
A nice perk that did not go unnoticed by her is that, due to their similar heights, she didn't have to crane her neck to meet his eyes. Her hands glided up his arms and, carefully, she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Visibly, he looked on edge, as if he were about to be attacked. The hands on her lower back felt flighty, ready to intervene at any moment if necessary.
"You're really tense. You alright?" she asked, loosening her hold. "This is supposed to feel good."
"People normally only go for the neck if they're attempting strangulation."
"Oh. Shit." Jeez. Did this man only know violence? The thought was sad. It was a mystery how he ever loosened up enough for sex. She adjusted her arms so that one was wrapped around his waist instead, cupping his chin with a spare hand.
"Does the act require an embrace?" he asked softly, observing her closely. His eyes flicked down to her mouth.
She shivered at the sound of his voice—so gravelly—especially when it lowered in pitch like that. He smelled faintly of soap and was wearing a clean, black tank top. No doubt, he showered this morning. It certainly made what was about to happen a lot more appetizing.
Bulma felt an exuberant rush—the type she used to have as a teenager when she fantasized about kissing cute boys.
"No, but it helps make it better," she whispered close to his parted lips.
The poor guy didn't stand a chance against her charms. She couldn't guarantee she wouldn't totally rock his world. Here it goes.
Before she even had time to move or react, he lunged forward without warning, forcing their mouths together—initiating just like he had seen on the tv. It was clumsy and rough, but also incredibly bold. She found the idea of him studying and mimicking it so endearing that the effect rippled all the way between her legs.
But this wasn't how it was supposed to go. She was in charge.
She pulled away, holding him at bay. "Easy there, tough guy. I know you're eager, but I'm not going anywhere," she admonished lightly, chuckling breathlessly.
She felt his hands slide up and tighten around her waist, pressing their bodies closer. God those muscles of his just felt right. Where she had expected to feel only firmness, there was surprising give.
His eyes were hooded, but no less intense, watching with rapt attention for her next move.
He really wanted this.
And Bulma was only too happy to oblige.
She skimmed his bottom lip with her tongue, tugging him forward by the shirt.
His breath hitched, caught off guard.
She smirked mischievously, reveling in the fact she could make the proud warrior produce such a sound. Maybe she was a lot more into this than she initially thought.
"You're supposed to take your time for a feast," she lectured sultrily. "You can't go straight to dessert when we're only just warming up." Slowly, she slanted her mouth against his, encouraging more gentle, drawn out movements.
The prince quickly picked up on her cues, mirroring her leisurely pace. His mouth was firm too, but deliciously pliant against hers.
They remained in that dance for awhile, while occasionally breaking apart to catch their breath, until she felt he had grown accustomed to the sensation. Then she started kissing him with more gusto, her breathing picking up.
Her right hand absentmindedly ran over his shoulder, up his neck, and into his hair. Experimentally, she massaged his scalp and tugged on the thick strands at the nape of his neck. He made a pleased humming sound, his hands finding purchase on her hips.
He surprised her when, unprompted, he introduced a new element. He dragged his teeth against her bottom lip gently. Bulma sucked in a breath through her nose and answered by pressing for entrance into his mouth with her tongue. He parted his lips, allowing her to brush her tongue against his teasingly while still applying pressure with her lips.
That seemed to be a turning point for their kiss. It was as if she had lit a fuse in the saiyan because now he was skimming his hands over her body urgently and pressing a knee between her legs. She moaned and he deepened their kiss, guiding her backwards so that he had her pinned up against the nearest wall. It was entirely appropriate, since his roughhousing and aggressive manhandling was making her weak-kneed.
They parted with a wet smack and Vegeta dove for her lips again, then her neck, her collarbone, her shoulder. He was making his way up when suddenly the clock in the kitchen struck, alerting them to the fact they both needed to go about their day. That seemed to be enough to sober them both.
Reluctantly, he pulled back, his chest heaving. He looked expectantly again, silently pondering if there was some sort of appropriate exit strategy or protocol to properly ending a kiss. The awkwardness from before resurfaced and she felt herself blushing.
So much for an innocent little kiss.
"That wasn't...entirely objectionable," he rasped, cutting into the silence first, his cheeks flushed.
She nodded in agreement, straightening her dress, still catching her own breath.
"And you? Did you enjoy it?" His lips curled, eyeing her up and down. Apparently he already knew the answer and was satisfied with what he saw.
She smiled coyly and bit her lip, drawing his gaze back down to her mouth. "It was alright," she teased, reaching out and adjusting the strap of his tank top. "But you could use a bit more practice."
Rather than responding to her playful jab, he said, "You're completely wrong, you know." He lifted one hand to twirl an errant strand of her disheveled hair between his fingers.
She met his eyes, which were somehow triumphant.
"About what?" she asked, finding herself inclining back against the wall as he placed both hands on either side of her, effectively trapping her with his arms.
"Kissing is combative."
He smirked devilishly, leaning in so that his mouth was pressed at the shell of her ear. "I won't be so merciful during our rematch. I'll teach you a thing or two about how to endure at our next battle, Bulma."
It was the single most arrogant, audacious thing any man has ever said to her, especially one with so little kissing experience. Naturally, it sent the butterflies in her stomach on overdrive.
The smug saiyan took the opportunity to pinch her chin between his fingers and steal another kiss, sucking on her bottom lip with carnal intent.
He gave her one last heated glance before departing for the GR, leaving her a mess in the middle of the kitchen, their tea long forgotten.