Unfaithful
Sometimes, when you've loved someone for a long amount of time, you start to just assume things. Like, you assume you're going to marry him and that you'll be happy and perhaps somewhere along the way kids will come if they're supposed to and they won't if they aren't, you assume you'll be happy because it's been literally decades and if he's still here then we must've done something right... right?
It's not like I just ran into his arms, you know.
You begin to just assume things. Assume that because you're comfortable, you're happy. And at the time, I think I truly believed the two to be one.
Oh, do not worry. I have myself come to pay a price. He will not acknowledge our child. I think that it's just his pride, now. He doesn't want to feel tied down to a family, he doesn't want to feel weak or like he's obligated to do anything for anyone other than himself. I know that he's too selfish, and in his way too immature, to possibly be able to handle a family. I was too, but I was not in the position where I could walk away and so I stepped up to the plate.
I think he loves me, but then again I will never tell him that. He'll likely tell me, stupid Earth woman that I am, that it was about sex and nothing more. At this point, to be frank, it doesn't matter anymore. In retrospect, I've come to agree that I would do it over again if I had the choice.
Is it really about making a right or wrong choice? Is it really about the fact that he may or may not be the best? Arrogant Bulma and her prince. Something about the couple works. And I can remember, when Yamucha first died. I was devastated, flooded with memories. I mourned, I really did. And sometimes I think that after he died that first time, part of me shut down. Clearly, not on the outside. On the outside, as far as my friends and family could see I was still moody, irate, some could even say arrogant (though I prefer the term competent) but from the inside, something had been damaged and it was not until I began going head to head with the arrogant prince that I would feel something rising back inside of myself. Aware of everything. Aggressive.
Running. Running as fast as I could to the Gravity Chamber. It was dark, after midnight. That's all I can really remember. It was too far away, it felt like I'd been trying to get to him for an eternity. "Vegeta!" I shrieked through my breath, "Are you insane?"
And then I was pounding on the GC, the door suddenly opened. I almost fell on him, unwarned and unaware of the abrupt motion. He was standing there, glaring at me with intrusive eyes blazing and furious. He was impatient. I was gasping for breath. "What is it you want, woman!"
"You!" I shouted before I knew exactly what I'd said. I didn't mean it that way, I was so angry, so absolutely infuriated that once again he had ignored me and gone back to that damned training to defeat my best friend that I'd actually ignored his question. Even so, he seemed impressed with himself (cocky bastard) and almost taken aback. He seemed to smirk into himself, looking down at me with eyes that went straight from severe irritation to... something surprisingly playful. This was the look that I got when the Saiya-Jin no Ouji decided to humor me.
In later months, I guess I could call this 'flirting' but to be honest, at the moment it seemed like an extension of his arrogant facade. This was the first time that he had actually addressed the idea of an "us" or, excuse me, not an "us" but the idea that at some point we would have sex.
"I know that, Woman, why. are. you. here?" He spoke slowly, deliberate, sarcastic. I blushed a ruby shade, unable to look at him so I immediately threw my head down. You have to understand: the man is absurd. He was absurd, he is absurd, and it's more than likely that he will always be absurd. It's almost obnoxious-as a matter of fact, that is exactly what I was thinking: why you obnoxious monkey prince, you come into my house, you use my resources, eat my food, sleep in my beds, and you have the audacity to turn around and mock me! I will admit that sometimes I get... angry, so angry that I do things that could be considered "reckless" like extending my fist and trying to make contact with a certain prince's chest. Of course, he didn't even blink. His hand caught my fist. It wasn't a rough grasp, but it was controlling, warning. I loved that about him. That warning growl deep inside of his throat. It was unnerving, but all the same the fact that he seemed to be this forbidden fire that I was permitting myself to touch, it gave me my own sense of invincibility.
Give me a man. Give me someone with some guys. You know, you can only know someone as daring and powerful as the crowd that I know without starting to get bored with everyone else.
The first thing I noticed was the fact that his hands were warm. And then, there was the fact that his hands were... bare. This was odd, for the most part Vegeta had always worn those gloves of his. But now, his fingers stretched out to apply enough pressure to the bones of my wrist to let me know that he was not going to let the grip loose for a few more seconds, I felt those tingles in my body. Everything was suddenly awake and paying this silent, intent attention to Vegeta angry in front of me. What are you going to do about it? What are you going to do to me? Deer in the headlights syndrome, perhaps. At any rate, although to me it seemed to be this great heroic deed to just be standing in front of him, in all reality my body had frozen and a feeling of dread crept slowly, cruelly over my abdomen.
You see, as time passed I had learned that fearing Vegeta only fed his ego. It was almost cute, he could be something of a show off. If you gave him a reason to flex his muscles, then he would do it to see you cringe. He seemed to want people to avoid him, to fear him and therefore to leave him alone. How lonely he must have felt, and he isolated himself: completely, totally. Except for me. I'm not so sure how I became special in his eyes. But I guess you could say that from the point that he became my house-guest, he had been something very special in my eyes.
He was mostly an irritation, like a child I suddenly found myself having to take care of. Did Vegeta eat today? Has he slept this week? My god, you need a bath! Would you let me wash that? What the Hell is wrong with you! Oh, you've broken the Gravity Chamber... again. Let me go out of my way to fix that for you before you have a temper tantrum. As far as our interactions went, it was more than apparent that there was something really wild about the both of us. I'd like to think that that contributed. I would not be pushed around by him, and even though he would let certain behaviors slide (such as screaming my head off at him) he did not let me conquer him. In fact, I think that in his own little primitive mind, he saw it as an invitation to start attempting to conquer me.
I was shaking. He knew it, and this only seemed to heat his Saiya-Jin blood. Part of me registered the whole "thrill of the hunt" thing and opted to not act like anything out of the ordinary was occurring. But it was as far from the truth as anything else: Vegeta was touching me. Not 'caressing' or 'stroking' or anything like that. It was a raw touch. The possession in the grasp is what truly made the gesture, if you could call it that, apparent. "Vegeta, why did you leave the med lab! You know that you're nowhere near done with the rejuvenation, you idiot!"
There was little else that I could say. I'd rushed out of the house on a cold night because I was angry. I was angry because I'd stayed after to watch him, to oversee his recovery. I wanted to oversee his recovery because he didn't take care of himself (see: now). He wasn't taking care of himself because he was obsessed. He was obsessed because... I didn't know why he was so obsessed. Pride, I guess. That whole pride thing. I guess I understood it. Vegeta was a warrior prince, he was hit hard in his area of expertise and he needed to redeem himself.
His most crucial critic was and likely still is himself. Vegeta could never forgive himself for the lost fights. He needed the power, and it was more than to just kill Gokou. Yes, it was true, I do believe, that if he had the chance he would have killed Gokou. But I don't think that the entire thing was about killing Gokou. No, I think that the whole training to become stronger issue was over simply defeating Gokou. I think that if given the chance, Vegeta would have kept Gokou alive. If nothing else, I think that the fact that some time ago, Gokou had saved his life, the debt would have at least been repaid even if he did not consent to the mercy.
But I've been told by others, namely Yamucha, that I make excuses for him or assume things that I probably shouldn't assume. At this point, no, no I do not believe that Vegeta would really kill me. When he first came, even after our son was born, I always had that feeling that there was the possibility and I accepted it even though for the most part I fancied that the prince would not (although I can't say I'd use the words "could not") kill me. The louder I yelled, the louder he would yell back or growl or glare but it was not until that moment that he touched me.
I was trying to pull my fist away from him, which he seemed to either like or find amusing. His smirk widened, he pulled his hand back ever so slightly until my knuckles were teasing his chest. I would for weeks dwell on this action, go back and forth from the irritation that I didn't want my hand to be touching his sweaty nasty chest and just remembering the way that it felt: hot, smooth flesh, perfectly chiseled out. Yamucha was built, it's not as though I'd never been around a muscular man before, but there was something different about Vegeta. His body was truly that of a God of War's. My eyes, despite everything, ran up his tanned body.
It was then that I realized that he had scars... everywhere. Some looked more recent than others. If I had managed to completely forget that he was being an asshole, cocky and crude, I would have felt sorry for him. I felt heat rise to my cheeks as I slowly registered that I'd been staring at his chest with lust in my eyes for a good few minutes now.
He growled a little bit, though I'm not sure why. His teeth scintillating in the darkness, he released my hand, turned, and the door slammed shut. I bit my lip. It was obvious that I'd lost that round.
I guess this is where it started. The challenge was issued, and I was furious. I stomped back to my room, blushing madly. I was grateful that for once Yamucha was not there. I didn't need to see him at that point. As I sat in my room, the clock barely hitting one thirty, I sighed and looked out my window. There he was. The gravity chamber. I could see some odd, blackish flash through the only red window, and I assumed he'd disregarded the last encounter and went back to that rigorous training of his. Absurd! I scoffed to myself, but I could not get to sleep.
Some part of my mind lingered on the fact that Vegeta had really just exhibited some sort of claim over me. I was to marry Yamucha, but this seemed nearly irrelevant. To be honest with you, I was mostly confused. I'd assumed that the angry prince hated me with some deep, intense passion. And then, the blush came back. Vegeta did that to humiliate me. He wasn't flirting, he was trying to humiliate me.
I growled a bit at the thought. I most certainly would not play his game! Or... my lips tugged into a grin. Perhaps I would.
It had been a while since that happened. Things slowly reverted back to the old way, while I never really forgot the way this his hand felt on mine, that controlling grip, the desire in his intense eyes perhaps more captivating than the action in itself. We went back to our regular fighting routine. Vegeta, why haven't you eaten? Vegeta, what the Hell is wrong with you? Vegeta, you're absolutely insane and no, you can't kill Yamucha so stop trying to intimidate him.
As I was working quite diligently on one of his broken training bots, I realized that I'd indeed become some domesticated house woman. He really did have me cornered: I was constantly after him about his own well-being. He'd made some snide comment about it in our morning bout over breakfast that I had become insignificant these days and tended to only work for him. I was in such a state that it no longer mattered exactly what he'd said, the fact that he'd connected me to that of a housewife, when I was a great scientist and inventor, my inventions a thing to marvel at, respected across the globe, I'm gorgeous, and he was right: for the past several months he had become some twisted part of my routine. Vegeta became my life without even having the dignity to make it known to me. He would come before everything except myself most of the time.
How could he? The question drove me mad. I threw the bot to the other side of the room. It didn't make a dent, but it did convey my anger, at least to the onlooking wall. I decided that I would take a shower, go do something nice for a change. Something for me. The steaming, soapy water relaxed me. It gave me some time to think, about a lot of things. And by a lot of things, I mean Yamucha.
At the time, I think I really assumed I'd loved him. Like I said, there was this solid sort of contentment. Yes, he was just a tad bit stupid, not in a cute, Gokou-naive sort of way, but in the no common sense, constantly asking obvious things-it was irritating, but he was sweet when he wanted to be. I'd figured that at some point we were to get married. When Gokou first came back, Yamcha mentioned it constantly. That incessant nagging soon got the better of both of us: I was getting irate, unwilling at the time to think about it when I had so much work to do to make sure that this androids business would be a success (meaning Vegeta had already destroyed the chamber for the first time and I had my hands full trying to fix it) and he was starting to think more deeply about the idea of a forever-sort of us. He went out playing around, the nerve of him!
So yes, Yamucha was unfaithful and don't ever let him tell you that he wasn't. We'd moved on past that time, though. We got back together, clearly, and there was a silent agreement that we were both just too busy to think about that whole marriage thing. In those months, I had missed him, though. It's not that he wasn't always there, but he was training or playing baseball, or he was eating or glaring at Vegeta, he might have been present but he wasn't with me and as I washed my hair I battled a sudden sense of desperate loneliness that I hadn't known since his death.
I'd worked so hard to get him back on the damned planet, and now it seemed that I never really had time for him, or we never had time for each other, or something was in the way of us being alone-like my parents, or Vegeta. I sighed, but I pressed the depression to the back of my mind. What I really wanted was a real romantic night with him. I closed my eyes, sinking back into the water. Candles and roses, an unmade bed, soft, warm... his lips trailing down my shoulder. An x-shaped scar on his cheek, handsome like the scars on-I jolted upwards. Vegeta.
I can't say that this was the first time that Vegeta had entered my thoughts when I was trying to think about Yamucha and I. Especially in dreams, he seemed to always show up there. He was a great kisser, by the way. Again, I was turning red. But it was then that I also actually heard Vegeta's raspy voice booming over the door. The door actually seemed to shift with every strike of his fist. "Woman! Woman!" He called out, which was something of a nickname for me, I guess. I could never get him to stop calling me that.
Even so, I responded with the default, "Hey, Stupid! My. Name. Is. BULMA!"
"Where is my contraption!" He hissed through the door, "You don't have time to be-"
In a fit of rage, I stood from the bath. Bubbles foamed about my body, but even so I was entirely naked. I didn't really mean to open the door. But I did. He was ready for a fight, barring his teeth and standing there with that irritated look on his face, until he saw me. At first, his look turned smug and he seemed to think I would become embarrassed. Fat chance, I can say with some sort of pride that after my childhood with Gokou, I haven't got much modesty in me. Even so, his eyes could not stay on mine. I chuckled to myself, typical man. They're all the same, Saiya-Jin, human. Prince or pauper, they are all complete and total perverts.
I did feel a tad bit uncomfortable, besides suddenly realizing that I was freezing, the way that that desire flickered and the air shifted and the mood changed and it became tense in an entirely different way, and we both fell silent, I felt a tint of my cheeks. But I endured it, cocking my head to the side with some sort of haughty laugh, "Do you see something you want, Vegeta?"
"You stupid, vain little woman..." But his voice seemed different. Others could tell me that it was the same: raspy, threatening, somewhat outraged, but his sentence trailed off as opposed to ending with its usual bang of mutual outrage and demand. I saw the difference. The bubbles slowly began falling down my breasts, and the more he could see the larger the smirk grew.
Vegeta'd seen naked women before, I knew that much, but I also know I got the exact reaction I wanted: some sort of mixture of confusion, desire, and that helpless embarrassment that he would have to endure. "Oh, well I'd figured that since you just can't take your eyes off of me that you just might. Now," I turned flicking my wet hair in his direction, "I have to finish my bath."
Words cannot describe the sense of accomplishment and victory that I felt when I slammed the door in the Saiya-Jin prince's face, that yes, I could see just the slightest rosy flush coming to rise on his cheeks.
And so the games began. It must have been some sort of ultimate insult to Yamucha. Vegeta was responsible for his death, and I took him into my house. The greatest sort of betrayal, to harbor my long time lover's greatest foe. And in all reality, I'd forgotten until just now, thinking about Yamucha and how many years later he would still rest his hand on my hip in Vegeta's absence, still give me that look, offering himself. Willing me to offer myself.
I guess that's what Vegeta taught me, some sort of cruelty. Cruelty of the mind, cruelty to the heart. Those were the days when I became increasingly selfish, and the only thing I could think about was the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, knowing that Yamucha had dumbly trusted me, and even that he loved me so much that he would be willing to forgive me, and I was off with the dark prince. Sex with Vegeta was truly like exploring some new, forbidden realm. Intense is the best word I can use to describe it: he's so very focused. And all the same, the pleasure that I felt when I could feel the purr deep in his throat, or the way that his tail would possessively wrap around my waist or my ankle, the way that everything seemed to revolve around me and the way that I seemed to revolve around him when we were intimate, it was a feeling that I became addicted to quickly.
I know, normally I would be irritated. I'm not some toy you can claim, you monkey prince! But this, this was something about needing to feel that desire. Vegeta had this way about completely and totally conveying his passion and desire. He needed control, and he aimed for greatness. Sex was an extension of this aspect of his personality. And yes, knowing that every step I took would hurt Yamucha, as he so rarely let me forget, eventually came to give me some sort of tingle, of pleasure when at first it filled me with an awkward sort of guilt.
I was unsure why Vegeta mentioned Yamucha those nights. At first I'd considered the idea that he was jealous, but it was soon that I saw that he had absolutely nothing to be jealous of. He was single-handedly destroying the very foundation of our relationship, and he was making damn sure that I was constantly thinking of him. It was true, he became something of an obsession to me. It was hard to think of much else. After some silly fight, I went out with Yamucha. He did something that surprised everyone: he proposed. I was filled with this great affection for my old lover, old boyfriend, old friend. The idea that we could marry, settle down, at some point have children or do what happy, established people do.. it seemed to have its own little allure. Just something simple, no more fights or pain or anger. No more battle for control or going at each other like wild animals. No more Vegeta.
I said yes.
Of course I did, you know that much. And in those times after it, when Yamucha was over it again, perhaps it was to make Vegeta jealous or perhaps it was to make him pay attention to me or realize that he was quickly losing what he had claimed as his own, but the sex with Yamucha started again, I was as affectionate with him as I could be whenever Vegeta was even in implied earshot. I wanted him to know that he was losing to the weaker man. And also, yes, it's true: I was battling these mixed feelings, somewhere there was a desire to really go through with it. The time was upon us, I'd assumed that I'd marry him, so when he asked, why not accept the proposal?
But in seeing Yamucha, I was breaking one rule. In accepting the proposal, I'd defied Vegeta and his claim of ownership on me, and in sleeping with Yamucha, I'd broken the most sacred rule: You are mine and mine alone.
He'd warned me about it, so I suppose we could say it's my fault that it happened the way it did. I suppose that in my own carelessness or anger or hurt or desire to hurt Vegeta, I figured that he wouldn't do anything about it. It became somewhat apparent that I was practically a walking get-out-of-jail-free card. He let me do virtually anything I wanted, and he would growl or get closer to me, push me against doors or walls (and it would for the most part end in sex after that period had started) but he never actually hurt me. It made sense to assume that nothing really bad would happen.
Sex with Yamucha, I cannot say it paled in comparison to Vegeta, and I cannot say it didn't. There was something more emotional about it, clearly, so afterwords we would snuggle, kiss, hug, actually fall asleep in each other's arms. If we spoke, it would be to speak of how we "loved" each other. After we began sleeping together again, Vegeta made a comment when we were alone for the first time that I reeked of Yamucha. We stopped speaking to each to each other. This is the part where I sort of sigh.
I missed him.
I really, truly missed Vegeta. The games and the pleasure and the sick feeling in my stomach, the attention and his body and the way that his lips felt on my neck, his voice and his grunts, I'd come to miss Vegeta in a way that I'd at first regarded as just physical desire. To my dismay, it was much, much more than that. This was the first time I truly accused myself of being in love with our favorite prince. But we'll get to that later.
Hours had passed and I didn't see my vegetable. I honestly did lack much else to do, though I would never admit it to him, so I began working on his training bots once more. I'd virtually cleared my schedule for the man: the only thing I ever really did was work on his things and then tend to my poor, dying social life (Yamucha). There was the occasional meeting for Capsule Corporations I would attend to keep my father happy.
He was very disappointed, although whether it was in my resistance to take over the company or his inability to retire for a few more years, I'll never know. I would take over, we both knew that, but I know that he'd been hoping I would sooner than later, and since my trek to Namek it became apparent that I had a larger picture to look at. Another reason why the idea of a child was very bad for me.
It must have been getting late because the normal bustle and noise about the labs was reaching its minimum. My father had probably gone to bed. The thought of bed seemed more than a little enticing. I yawned. When I looked over my fingers, however, I let out a gasp and I could not hide the flinch from his keen Saiya-Jin eyes.
He was standing there in the doorway, smirking at me. I slid the screwdriver to the side and then immediately crossed my arms over my chest, "Vegeta! What are you doing, you're going to scare me to death!"
The prince didn't say anything at all. Nothing. That was what scared me, because Vegeta always had some witty comeback, something sarcastic or vicious, anything that would convey his general dislike for everything that wasn't... himself. And finally, "Unacceptable." Inwardly, there was this panic. I'm too young to die. I'm too pretty to die. He's really going to kill me. He's cracked. I'm too rich to die! I'm supposed to be on next month's cover of some business magazine! I'm a celebrity in the world of science and business! I'm respected! I'll call Gokou! They'll kill you and bring me back with the dragon balls!
My mind was racing. Fear had taken hold of my entire form, my windowless lab, a pitch black hallway behind him. All one could see was my dim little desk. I could see him approaching, that too. I swallowed. His handsome face seemed distorted with an unrecognizable mixture of anger and something else. It was almost lecherous, the look in his eyes.
He approached, closer, closer. I made some odd movement to get up and run, but he caught my wrist effortlessly. "I have lost my patience with you completely and totally..."
One thing I discovered: Vegeta is the most lonely prince you will ever meet. I will never really tell him that I think he's lonely, because lonely is a word easily associated with weak and he could not bear to be considered that. But I know the truth: Vegeta's thirst for sex was only some sort of more masculine way of his mind and heart and soul telling him that he was in some desperate need of companionship. We didn't really ever... talk. About what? A conversation was a fight, and that's the way that we both liked it. It made things easier, put each of us in our place. There was time for touching, and then the other portion of the day we went about it hating each other. It's sad, the things that the prince would do to validate that need for companionship. After all, everyone needs someone else. But maybe I am being romantic.
-CL