"Okaaaasaaaaaan!"
Trunks' joyful bellow was followed quickly thereafter by his squawk of indignant pain. Bulma chuckled to herself as she rounded the corner from the laboratory wing, happy to find both her men striding in from the atrium. She took them both in, thoroughly enjoying the sight of them – together and natural – and suddenly striking her with a comforting jerk low in her chest.
"Back so soon?" Her query was meant more for the full-blood Saiyan, whose dark eyes swept derisively over his son as he energetically bounced at knee level. She caught his gaze with a smirk and a cant of her head, before she knelt to Trunks' height and welcomed his hurried embrace.
"An hour isn't soon," Vegeta grouched and began past the mother-son couple with a snort. He paused at the archway of the kitchen, casting a sudden glower over his shoulder – leveled at Trunks, who was finally drawing away from Bulma's limbs. "You're welcome."
Taken aback and apparently shamed by his lack of forethought, Trunks fell at once into a deep bow. "Arigato gozaimasu, otousan!" He all but recited the thanks, though his sincere look of gratitude melted in moments once his attention wandered upon his mother's amused expression. "Okaasan, it was great!"
A growl sounded behind her, and Bulma turned too late. Vegeta had already disappeared. Shrugging indifferently, her eyes settled upon her lively bundle of lavender. "Was it now? Like, how great?"
"There were all these rides! Otousan didn't ride them, but I did. OH! AND! And there was this huge cow! With horns and that weird pouchy boob thing!" Trunks gestured crudely to his belly, his hands outstretched and his fingers splayed, wiggling for emphasis. Bulma's hands swatted his imaginary udder away, and he visibly deflated under her disapproval. "Naaaaniiii? That's what they're like."
Trunks sagged further once his mother's manicured nails came upon his shoulders and pushed him toward the stairs. "Oh, don't you try to pull that now," Bulma reprimanded her son for his unwillingness to shuffle forward. "You need to get ready for bed. It's already getting late." She gave another forceful shove, and he skittered ahead a few unhappy steps, his mouth pulled down into an ungrateful frown.
An hour or so of further jostling and nagging, Trunks was found tucked neatly into his bed, his animated chattering having continued almost unfalteringly. Bulma sat, perched at his side, her hands ruffling through his lilac locks. A bemused grin curved at her mouth as she listened to him prattle on.
"So, we're in there, and otousan's all makin' fun of me because of the gravity, he thinks I can't stand it," the little boy boasted, his proud grin stretching his mouth wide. "So I do that thing that Goten and I have been practicing, y'know, where we turn all gold and—"
While her interest had been feigned initially, Bulma took the time to gasp in legitimate shock. "Trunks, you didn't—" She hissed between the fingers held over her lips. She could already imagine Vegeta's fury. But he had seemed so calm earlier…
"Yeah, I did! You should'a seen his face, mama," Trunks giggled. His eyes seemed to gleam under the faint glow of the night-light nearby. Bulma thought her heart might threaten to stop beating.
"Was he angry?" She whispered, almost afraid that Vegeta might hear. She leaned in subtly, curiosity piqued, and her hand pressed protectively across her son's middle. "What did he say?"
Trunks rolled his eyes exaggeratedly at her obvious concern, and his mouth slid into a smirk. "He couldn't believe it. So he asked me how I could do that, so I told him Goten and I'd both been able to do it for a while, and then … he asked me to hit him," his voice dipped into a stage-whisper; an attempt at a secret hush, but his enthusiasm was too much to contain.
Immediately, the color drained from her features. "He asked you to what?" She forgot her inside voice momentarily, and Trunks' pointed glare had her folding her lips into a thin line. Bulma could feel the blood rush to and clot in the middle of her chest. She should be thankful for dim lighting, lest she provoke Trunks' wonder. Her eyes raked over his face, his arms that were stretched to his sides, the rise and fall of his chest with every breath. The night shadowed whatever discolorations may or may not have been there, but for the most part, he seemed intact.
Foreign and rare, something had begun to creep into her bloodstream. Awash in it suddenly, Bulma couldn't fight the overpowering urge to smile knowingly at her boy. "Well … did you?" She willed Trunks to ignore the giddy lilt to her voice, prayed it go undetected. Gratefully, he appeared to overlook it, opting for a crooked and fulsome grin.
"I did, right here," the boy pressed a knuckle to the side of his face, enough to make his chubby cheek dimple. Bulma inhaled sharply. "I don't think he thought I could do it. I mean, I sure didn't!" However, her son's face slackened into defeat, and he pressed his palm to the center of his face. Bulma was tempted to question his lapse into silence, but it was brief, and she was relieved to find her son's face illuminated with that bountiful energy once more. "So anyway, because I hit him, he agreed to take me to the park, and now I can train with him and fight in the tournament!"
"Excuse me?"
The deadpan of his mother's inquiry rippled a shiver down Trunks' spine. "Eh?"
"Who in the hell said you're competing in that tournament?" Bulma pushed up from his bedside, her hands curving over her waist defiantly. "There's no way, Trunks. That's not a tournament for little kids."
"Goten-kun's doing it! So I have to do it, too!" Trunks sat upright now, and he ignored his mother's unmoving glare. "Otousan already said I have to beat Goten-kun, and I'm going to! C'mon, mom, please? Please, please?"
Her son's pleading served as a backdrop to Bulma's contemplation of this dilemma. She had never been particularly restricting with her son – not at all in the fashion that Chi Chi was. Looking down into his dewy and hopeful eyes, the woman began to feel her resolve give in.
Bulma slowly drew up a plaintive smile, and Trunks crowed loudly in rejoicing.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he rasped repeatedly as his mother's face drew nearer. Trunks quieted as she pecked him between lavender wisps of hair, and she pushed her hand flat and gentle over her child's eyes. He squirmed in annoyance. "Now, time for sleep, Trunks-chan! I'm done hearing about this tournament, and it's still a while away!"
"But—"
His protest was cut short by a purposely wet kiss to his cheek, and Trunks groaned in aggravation. Bulma snickered and dutifully wiped the cootie-tainted flesh clean with the back of her hand. "Good night," she stated with a hint of finality, and she turned from his bedside, disregarding his pout as she navigated the messy piles strewn about his bedroom.
Click.
Before she had even shut her bedroom door completely, one massive hand was pushing it closed for her, forcing her back against the hard veneer. Bulma sucked in a breath as Vegeta drew closer, her mouth hanging open in awe. It was, however, fleeting. "What the hell are you doing, Vegeta?" She scolded him with flashing eyes and grit teeth, despite his pressing closer into her. "This is a little intrusive, don't you think?"
"You didn't tell me," he responded in a low timbre. "You knew and you didn't—"
"I tried," Bulma scoffed and turned her face from him, her aggravation evident. "But you didn't want to listen!" Scornful blue eyes swiveled upon him again, and he sneered at her in defiance. "Don't blame me for your pig-headedness! You know, you're always so—"
What he 'was' remained unseen or said, as Vegeta dove in to swallow it for himself. Bulma's instinctive moan was muffled effectively against his searing lips, while his tongue invited itself at once into her mouth. Thick, heavy hands found her hips and dug in deep, and Bulma rolled forward into him, his implicit appreciation of the situation becoming apparent. Her arms barely made it around his neck before he scooped her up by her bottom and spun, planting her firmly against the cool sheets and comforter.
As his knee moved into a prime location between her spread legs, Bulma started abruptly and half-sat upright, a hand braced against his chest to ward off his further assault of her swollen mouth. Vegeta furrowed his brow in confusion and irritation, though his gaze darkened imperceptibly as her hand slid around his jaw, framing him softly. She gave the lightest of turns to his face, willing him to present her with his profile. He complied silently, albeit a wary eye remained trained upon her.
There it was; barely visible, but the definite fading yellow of the bruise was unmistakable when scrutinizing his typically perfect visage.
He knew immediately what she was looking for, and he quickly jerked his head in her direction, ready to rally against her. Yet she was waiting, and Bulma intercepted Vegeta's mouth surreptitiously. She was thoroughly satisfied with his grunt of surprise, as that indefinable sensation from earlier leapt anew within her and blossomed. Bulma relished in the sudden thrill of feeling emboldened and smug even while pressed under his persistent and powerful hands, and she considered dazedly as he roamed her curves that perhaps he could feel it, too.
Author's Note: This was my longest chapter yet! It took me a while to churn it out, since I wasn't sure how I felt about it. I really liked playing with the idea of Bulma feeling some pride because of Trunks being able to hit Vegeta. There was just something profoundly amusing and interesting in that. And of course, Vegeta expresses his ... gratefulness or whatever for Trunks' being Super Saiyajin by trying to get some. Because he doesn't know how to say, "OH THANK GOD" or be relieved like a normal person. :P
I wish I could've written more from Vegeta's perspective, or perhaps even the actual visit to the park, but I don't feel as though I have a good enough grasp on Trunks/Vegeta's dynamic to really write something worthwhile. This chapter serves its purpose pretty good as a stepping stone toward the end of the fic, though.
This fic obviously takes place during the Great Saiyaman arc, particularly from the episode where Trunks is revealed to be a Super Saiyajin.