Chapter 9
Nothing. He takes no notice of me. He simply doesn't want. I shouldn't be in such a rage. It doesn't matter to him anymore, why should it matter to me, then? But I can't stand being ignored like this. This man is nothing.
Nothing, Goku tried to convince himself. It seemed to him that he had to correct some little details. "*Who* wouldn't last a second?" Goku said derisively. He would have liked to spit the words out directly into the other's face, but instead he had spoken to an unmoving quiet wall.
Silence.
Maybe he should make things more clear and so Goku added, "It seems the pants you are wearing belong to me, aren't they? The bandages are *mine*, don't you think s ..."
Vegeta turned so fast, Goku had not yet finished speaking. Without even blinking the prince brutally ripped the bandages off from his body with one single quick movement. Goku winced involuntary. The wound didn't look much better than an hour ago and by the harsh treatment, what healing layer might have been formed was ripped open again. Vegeta threw the torn gauze on the floor in front of Goku's feet, who backed away a little bit when they fell against his leg.
The expression on Vegeta's face was emotionless and it seemed like he was looking straight through Goku. He didn't even look at his wound like it wasn't important at all. Then he seemed to turn his attention back to the window, so Goku couldn't see his face anymore. He didn't know if the other didn't want to look at him or if he didn't want that the taller male saw his face.
Vegeta felt vulnerable, the Saiyajin he had found was getting through his defenses. It hurt. Maybe he really had gotten to a worthless and helpless piece of trash, like he already was in the eyes of this earth-raised Saiyajin. A pale imitation of a prince.
So he reacted like each earthling would do, maybe even each being, he tried to hide his face and emotions from the other, being aware however that this act itself was a testimony of his weakness. But he wasn't able to look in the other's eyes, he just couldn't do it.
Goku wasn't sure about his feelings. He had wanted a reaction and he had got a reaction. Maybe he should keep on digging his finger into the wound and say something like "*It seems I have found a delicate point, didn't I?*". Maybe he should anger him a little bit further. But somehow the words didn't want to come out, it just didn't feel like a victory.
What do I want?, Goku thought. He was stuck. He could easily say: "*Thank you for giving me back the bandages, now go, you can regard the pants as a present.*" Though he couldn't do that. He wanted to *know* what this all was about. He wanted to find out what the stranger was hiding.
"Where do you come from?" Goku asked deep in thought.
"Vegetasei. But it's all gone."
Goku heard the murmured words and there was something in that voice, that reminded him a scene in his life he thought he had forgotten...A sequence of vague images and words was shortly flickering in his mind. It was his father, sitting at the dining-table without moving, his glance downwards. The room was dove in darkness, daylight only floating sparsely through the window. Goku couldn't make out his father's face. But he did understand what the man was murmuring to the table-plate "*Your mother has died*". He hadn't said anything more to him at this day, he even hadn't looked at him. Goku clearly remembered how he had felt: frightened and lonely, and small. His mother had died of cancer when he was 12. He had loved her. She hadn't been like his father.
Why did he remember this now? The voice or perhaps it was the way the other was standing there. "*Vegetasei*". "*Gone*". The words still echoed in his mind. He had the feeling that nothing was normal and nothing would be normal again, just like it had been, back then.
Goku left his thoughts, realizing somewhat awkwardly that he had, as a result of thinking loudly, put another question to Vegeta. Though there was more.
He didn't want to ask, but something pushed him to do so. He knew his voice would not be so uncaring as he wanted it to be. The other would inevitably see the desperation that would lie behind the question. How desperate he wanted to know this his whole life. But there was also anger and a deep fury about his real parents that had abandoned him and the wish to know and the wish not to know was fighting inside of him since this one moment long ago. It had been soon after the day his mother had died when his father said to him, "*You even aren't my son.*" His father didn't care about him anymore. Goku knew why. It had been the wish of his mother to adopt him, not that of his father.
Goku breathed in deeply and asked the person that he meant would be able to give him an answer, "Am I related to you?"
"What...?" Vegeta began but stopped when he finally gave Goku a look, "We are not related, Kakarotto."
"I thought, that maybe, we.. "
"... are Saiyajins. That's what I told you and that's what I tell you now for the last time. We are born on Vegetasei. To make it clear to you, I and you are *not* born on Chikyuusei. I am Vegeta, heir of the throne of Vegetasei and so I'm prince of all Saiyajins."
Goku jumped up from the couch. Nothing could hold him there at this moment. He wanted to.., he just wanted to be away. He felt so stupid, so damn stupid. The whole time his thoughts had been locked up in a cage, that he himself had built, where they were running wildly in a circle, unable to see beyond the walls. To see beyond the walls of a cage that was named *I want to know who are my real parents*.
He really had thought he would hear something like *I'm your lost cousin from overseas and I came to see you*. There had been this signs: the intimate knowledge of this certain thing at his back, the similarities regarding the color of the eyes and the hair, the name Kakarotto. He hadn't understood why the other didn't want to come out with the simple truth. He simply hadn't heard what the exotic man was *actually* saying: "*I'm the prince of all Saiyajins.*" "*You are a Saiyajin.*" "*We are fighter.*" "*You are not born on Chikyuusei.*" What if that weren't only words? What if this all was about something much more greater?
But this..this couldn't be true!
He leant himself onto the sink in the kitchen and opened the faucet up to the limit. He watched the water rushing into the sink and disappearing into the drain. He stared at the spectacle, wondering why it looked so unfamiliar and different, why all things appeared to him in a different light. Would it be like this when you discover that you suffer of an incurable disease? He often had tried to imagine how this would feel like. He had wondered if the world wouldn't be the same anymore.
It couldn't be true! Goku felt more and more strange and dizzy. He splashed some cold water into his face with both hands.
He hadn't noticed Vegeta standing in the doorway. "You don't belong here."
Goku kept his hands on his face, as if it was protecting him to have to hear more, as if it stopped the things that kept invading him from all sites. He felt insecure.
"You're a shame.."
No, not this word, Goku thought. All, but not this. He had had this before. "I AM NOT A SHAME FOR ANYONE!" he yelled infuriated. Not being able to hold himself back anymore, Goku placed his fist hard on Vegeta's abdomen. The punch hit the prince off guard and he crouched forward. But Vegeta wouldn't be a Saiyajin if he hadn't grabbed one of the other's hand in a firm hold.
Though, Goku didn't want to give up. One caught hand didn't stop him beating at Vegeta's stomach with the other fist as if his life depended on it. He hit the wound over and over again, with all the power he could summon. It was like all the frustration wanted to burst out from him at this moment.
Vegeta could stand much, but the precise hits that landed at a spot he was very vulnerable at the moment, didn't miss the wanted effect. Each of it sent him waves of pain through his body. Vegeta tried hard not to fall, but it got more and more difficult and his knees got dangerously weak. Though he was struggling to get back his strength the prince finally collapsed onto the floor, tugging the crazy taller Saiyajin with him and therefore escaping the offensive for some seconds. It was enough time for Vegeta to recover as much as he needed to get control over the other.
One minute later two black haired Saiyajins were kneeling on the floor. The smaller one had fully captured the other, holding him tightly to his body; this way he wouldn't slip free and the Saiyajin warrior was able to get his own breath back. Apart from two chests rising and falling rapidly in unison the pair didn't move.
The prince was too wrecked out to only think to shift his current position. Goku wasn't less exhausted, but he wouldn't have been able to move, even if he had wanted to.
Goku found himself in an odd position. A strong arm was rounded around his neck so that his face was pressed to the left side of the other's chest. He couldn't breathe in very well and to add to his lack of comfort his lips were in very close contact with the prince's skin. He even was unable to close his mouth adequately. Both his arms were forced to his back and held firmly.
I'm not a shame for anyone, Goku repeated in his mind. Never to be good enough. Never to belong to them. For a long time these feelings had pushed him into a deep black hole, from which he only had been able to free himself with much effort. His father had had the ability to make it very hard for him, always trying to shove him in deeper and deeper. It made him so angry.
Normally he didn't overreact like this, let alone start a fight. In the circles in which he was moving you didn't do such a thing anyway. He used words instead. Though he had felt a certain urge to use his fists before, he never had really done it. Goku was startled about himself.
In fact he hadn't had much physical contact to another male before, so the situation he was in was more unfamiliar to him than he wanted to admit. He heard and felt the racing heartbeat of the other. Loud and near; too near.
I'm not a shame ...I'm not ...Goku's anger more and more trailed off ... his thoughts were circling more and more around the very near presence of the stranger. He was aware of the warmth of the other's body and the cold rising from the tiles. Senses were sharpened to detect the slightest contact that his body made with that of Vegeta. His state was that of deep tension.
In an effort to close his mouth, Goku touched the other's skin lightly with his tongue. It left a spicy taste in his mouth, with a nice unidentifiable note of freshness, that was slowly disappearing. But he could still catch something of it with his nose.
Another sensation that held Goku's full attention was, beside the not so gently grip of a hand, the soft but also quite strong touch of something furry around both of his forearms. He knew it had to be the tail. To feel the touch of it and to imagine that it belonged to that man he was pressed against, it was so foreign, so incredible.
Goku felt as if he was in a new reality, that was blurred, but then again very clear. A reality that was different and unfamiliar but then also appealing, or appealing because it was different. To submit to it was tempting in a way. Goku sensed in himself a small glint of positive excitement accompanied by a nice tingling.
When he was moving his lips a little bit, just to get more comfortable, opening them and turning the head minimally, he could strike his tongue over the warm skin only one moment and it wouldn't be a great thing at all. Somehow feeling he was doing something forbidden Goku again was discovering the exotic taste.
Then he noticed a shift in the other's body and the death grip around his neck was loosened. Goku was startled, because when he rose his head as much as it was possible in his position, he saw Vegeta's gaze lying on him.
The thumping stabbing pain had ebbed to a bearable level and Vegeta could breath again normally. He simply hadn't expected that the larger Saiyajn would beat him and then that it would be so painful. Damn the injuries that made him so vulnerable and damn his own inattentiveness.
He watched Kakarotto looking up to him and fixed again these onyx black eyes which only could be that of a Saiyajin. While regaining his control he had noticed something. A little lick that was a trace too long to actually be of accidental nature.
I could show him ..., Vegeta thought. He may be weak at the moment, but he still could easily show him, prove him who he was, let him *feel* the enormous disastrous power inside him. Kakarotto wouldn't even know what was happening. He wouldn't be able to argue either.
The earth-raised Saiyajin was a shame for the whole Saiyajin race.
Though the Saiyajin prince wasn't doing it. Maybe, Vegeta thought, the other was even right in that. He couldn't do it.
Kakarotto's face was kind of handsome and saiyan, nevertheless. And he had some courage, at least. Or he just didn't know it better. But Kakarotto certainly seemed to know what rage meant.
Vegeta had the strong urge to ruffle that hair, black like his own and contrasting nicely to milky pale skin. So straight, so severe, so tamed. It just seemed so unnatural. What if changing it, Vegata thought. This Saiyajin probably wouldn't like it, what was definitely one more reason to do it.
He would stroke lightly with only his fingertips, beginning at the back and working slowly to the brow. Gently, like this. And then, do it all over again. He would get a little bit more rough, ruffling the hair in all possible directions to make a nice mess out of formerly regular hair. The prince stopped, his hand still buried in thick gleaming hair, noticing that his tail had started to lead a life of his own. He let it happen.
(un-beta'd, sorry)
Nothing. He takes no notice of me. He simply doesn't want. I shouldn't be in such a rage. It doesn't matter to him anymore, why should it matter to me, then? But I can't stand being ignored like this. This man is nothing.
Nothing, Goku tried to convince himself. It seemed to him that he had to correct some little details. "*Who* wouldn't last a second?" Goku said derisively. He would have liked to spit the words out directly into the other's face, but instead he had spoken to an unmoving quiet wall.
Silence.
Maybe he should make things more clear and so Goku added, "It seems the pants you are wearing belong to me, aren't they? The bandages are *mine*, don't you think s ..."
Vegeta turned so fast, Goku had not yet finished speaking. Without even blinking the prince brutally ripped the bandages off from his body with one single quick movement. Goku winced involuntary. The wound didn't look much better than an hour ago and by the harsh treatment, what healing layer might have been formed was ripped open again. Vegeta threw the torn gauze on the floor in front of Goku's feet, who backed away a little bit when they fell against his leg.
The expression on Vegeta's face was emotionless and it seemed like he was looking straight through Goku. He didn't even look at his wound like it wasn't important at all. Then he seemed to turn his attention back to the window, so Goku couldn't see his face anymore. He didn't know if the other didn't want to look at him or if he didn't want that the taller male saw his face.
Vegeta felt vulnerable, the Saiyajin he had found was getting through his defenses. It hurt. Maybe he really had gotten to a worthless and helpless piece of trash, like he already was in the eyes of this earth-raised Saiyajin. A pale imitation of a prince.
So he reacted like each earthling would do, maybe even each being, he tried to hide his face and emotions from the other, being aware however that this act itself was a testimony of his weakness. But he wasn't able to look in the other's eyes, he just couldn't do it.
Goku wasn't sure about his feelings. He had wanted a reaction and he had got a reaction. Maybe he should keep on digging his finger into the wound and say something like "*It seems I have found a delicate point, didn't I?*". Maybe he should anger him a little bit further. But somehow the words didn't want to come out, it just didn't feel like a victory.
What do I want?, Goku thought. He was stuck. He could easily say: "*Thank you for giving me back the bandages, now go, you can regard the pants as a present.*" Though he couldn't do that. He wanted to *know* what this all was about. He wanted to find out what the stranger was hiding.
"Where do you come from?" Goku asked deep in thought.
"Vegetasei. But it's all gone."
Goku heard the murmured words and there was something in that voice, that reminded him a scene in his life he thought he had forgotten...A sequence of vague images and words was shortly flickering in his mind. It was his father, sitting at the dining-table without moving, his glance downwards. The room was dove in darkness, daylight only floating sparsely through the window. Goku couldn't make out his father's face. But he did understand what the man was murmuring to the table-plate "*Your mother has died*". He hadn't said anything more to him at this day, he even hadn't looked at him. Goku clearly remembered how he had felt: frightened and lonely, and small. His mother had died of cancer when he was 12. He had loved her. She hadn't been like his father.
Why did he remember this now? The voice or perhaps it was the way the other was standing there. "*Vegetasei*". "*Gone*". The words still echoed in his mind. He had the feeling that nothing was normal and nothing would be normal again, just like it had been, back then.
Goku left his thoughts, realizing somewhat awkwardly that he had, as a result of thinking loudly, put another question to Vegeta. Though there was more.
He didn't want to ask, but something pushed him to do so. He knew his voice would not be so uncaring as he wanted it to be. The other would inevitably see the desperation that would lie behind the question. How desperate he wanted to know this his whole life. But there was also anger and a deep fury about his real parents that had abandoned him and the wish to know and the wish not to know was fighting inside of him since this one moment long ago. It had been soon after the day his mother had died when his father said to him, "*You even aren't my son.*" His father didn't care about him anymore. Goku knew why. It had been the wish of his mother to adopt him, not that of his father.
Goku breathed in deeply and asked the person that he meant would be able to give him an answer, "Am I related to you?"
"What...?" Vegeta began but stopped when he finally gave Goku a look, "We are not related, Kakarotto."
"I thought, that maybe, we.. "
"... are Saiyajins. That's what I told you and that's what I tell you now for the last time. We are born on Vegetasei. To make it clear to you, I and you are *not* born on Chikyuusei. I am Vegeta, heir of the throne of Vegetasei and so I'm prince of all Saiyajins."
Goku jumped up from the couch. Nothing could hold him there at this moment. He wanted to.., he just wanted to be away. He felt so stupid, so damn stupid. The whole time his thoughts had been locked up in a cage, that he himself had built, where they were running wildly in a circle, unable to see beyond the walls. To see beyond the walls of a cage that was named *I want to know who are my real parents*.
He really had thought he would hear something like *I'm your lost cousin from overseas and I came to see you*. There had been this signs: the intimate knowledge of this certain thing at his back, the similarities regarding the color of the eyes and the hair, the name Kakarotto. He hadn't understood why the other didn't want to come out with the simple truth. He simply hadn't heard what the exotic man was *actually* saying: "*I'm the prince of all Saiyajins.*" "*You are a Saiyajin.*" "*We are fighter.*" "*You are not born on Chikyuusei.*" What if that weren't only words? What if this all was about something much more greater?
But this..this couldn't be true!
He leant himself onto the sink in the kitchen and opened the faucet up to the limit. He watched the water rushing into the sink and disappearing into the drain. He stared at the spectacle, wondering why it looked so unfamiliar and different, why all things appeared to him in a different light. Would it be like this when you discover that you suffer of an incurable disease? He often had tried to imagine how this would feel like. He had wondered if the world wouldn't be the same anymore.
It couldn't be true! Goku felt more and more strange and dizzy. He splashed some cold water into his face with both hands.
He hadn't noticed Vegeta standing in the doorway. "You don't belong here."
Goku kept his hands on his face, as if it was protecting him to have to hear more, as if it stopped the things that kept invading him from all sites. He felt insecure.
"You're a shame.."
No, not this word, Goku thought. All, but not this. He had had this before. "I AM NOT A SHAME FOR ANYONE!" he yelled infuriated. Not being able to hold himself back anymore, Goku placed his fist hard on Vegeta's abdomen. The punch hit the prince off guard and he crouched forward. But Vegeta wouldn't be a Saiyajin if he hadn't grabbed one of the other's hand in a firm hold.
Though, Goku didn't want to give up. One caught hand didn't stop him beating at Vegeta's stomach with the other fist as if his life depended on it. He hit the wound over and over again, with all the power he could summon. It was like all the frustration wanted to burst out from him at this moment.
Vegeta could stand much, but the precise hits that landed at a spot he was very vulnerable at the moment, didn't miss the wanted effect. Each of it sent him waves of pain through his body. Vegeta tried hard not to fall, but it got more and more difficult and his knees got dangerously weak. Though he was struggling to get back his strength the prince finally collapsed onto the floor, tugging the crazy taller Saiyajin with him and therefore escaping the offensive for some seconds. It was enough time for Vegeta to recover as much as he needed to get control over the other.
One minute later two black haired Saiyajins were kneeling on the floor. The smaller one had fully captured the other, holding him tightly to his body; this way he wouldn't slip free and the Saiyajin warrior was able to get his own breath back. Apart from two chests rising and falling rapidly in unison the pair didn't move.
The prince was too wrecked out to only think to shift his current position. Goku wasn't less exhausted, but he wouldn't have been able to move, even if he had wanted to.
Goku found himself in an odd position. A strong arm was rounded around his neck so that his face was pressed to the left side of the other's chest. He couldn't breathe in very well and to add to his lack of comfort his lips were in very close contact with the prince's skin. He even was unable to close his mouth adequately. Both his arms were forced to his back and held firmly.
I'm not a shame for anyone, Goku repeated in his mind. Never to be good enough. Never to belong to them. For a long time these feelings had pushed him into a deep black hole, from which he only had been able to free himself with much effort. His father had had the ability to make it very hard for him, always trying to shove him in deeper and deeper. It made him so angry.
Normally he didn't overreact like this, let alone start a fight. In the circles in which he was moving you didn't do such a thing anyway. He used words instead. Though he had felt a certain urge to use his fists before, he never had really done it. Goku was startled about himself.
In fact he hadn't had much physical contact to another male before, so the situation he was in was more unfamiliar to him than he wanted to admit. He heard and felt the racing heartbeat of the other. Loud and near; too near.
I'm not a shame ...I'm not ...Goku's anger more and more trailed off ... his thoughts were circling more and more around the very near presence of the stranger. He was aware of the warmth of the other's body and the cold rising from the tiles. Senses were sharpened to detect the slightest contact that his body made with that of Vegeta. His state was that of deep tension.
In an effort to close his mouth, Goku touched the other's skin lightly with his tongue. It left a spicy taste in his mouth, with a nice unidentifiable note of freshness, that was slowly disappearing. But he could still catch something of it with his nose.
Another sensation that held Goku's full attention was, beside the not so gently grip of a hand, the soft but also quite strong touch of something furry around both of his forearms. He knew it had to be the tail. To feel the touch of it and to imagine that it belonged to that man he was pressed against, it was so foreign, so incredible.
Goku felt as if he was in a new reality, that was blurred, but then again very clear. A reality that was different and unfamiliar but then also appealing, or appealing because it was different. To submit to it was tempting in a way. Goku sensed in himself a small glint of positive excitement accompanied by a nice tingling.
When he was moving his lips a little bit, just to get more comfortable, opening them and turning the head minimally, he could strike his tongue over the warm skin only one moment and it wouldn't be a great thing at all. Somehow feeling he was doing something forbidden Goku again was discovering the exotic taste.
Then he noticed a shift in the other's body and the death grip around his neck was loosened. Goku was startled, because when he rose his head as much as it was possible in his position, he saw Vegeta's gaze lying on him.
The thumping stabbing pain had ebbed to a bearable level and Vegeta could breath again normally. He simply hadn't expected that the larger Saiyajn would beat him and then that it would be so painful. Damn the injuries that made him so vulnerable and damn his own inattentiveness.
He watched Kakarotto looking up to him and fixed again these onyx black eyes which only could be that of a Saiyajin. While regaining his control he had noticed something. A little lick that was a trace too long to actually be of accidental nature.
I could show him ..., Vegeta thought. He may be weak at the moment, but he still could easily show him, prove him who he was, let him *feel* the enormous disastrous power inside him. Kakarotto wouldn't even know what was happening. He wouldn't be able to argue either.
The earth-raised Saiyajin was a shame for the whole Saiyajin race.
Though the Saiyajin prince wasn't doing it. Maybe, Vegeta thought, the other was even right in that. He couldn't do it.
Kakarotto's face was kind of handsome and saiyan, nevertheless. And he had some courage, at least. Or he just didn't know it better. But Kakarotto certainly seemed to know what rage meant.
Vegeta had the strong urge to ruffle that hair, black like his own and contrasting nicely to milky pale skin. So straight, so severe, so tamed. It just seemed so unnatural. What if changing it, Vegata thought. This Saiyajin probably wouldn't like it, what was definitely one more reason to do it.
He would stroke lightly with only his fingertips, beginning at the back and working slowly to the brow. Gently, like this. And then, do it all over again. He would get a little bit more rough, ruffling the hair in all possible directions to make a nice mess out of formerly regular hair. The prince stopped, his hand still buried in thick gleaming hair, noticing that his tail had started to lead a life of his own. He let it happen.
(un-beta'd, sorry)