Human Hospitality
by pureleaf
Chapter 22
Loneliness
Warning: There is graphic sexual content present in this chapter. Reader discretion is advised.
A/N: Thank you all for your lovely reviews! Please feel free to provide constructive criticism or suggestions.
Power to the car engine cut, the vehicle's interior went quiet and Bulma leaned back in her seat and sighed contentedly.
"That was fun, Yamcha. Let's do that again sometime!" She looked over at her boyfriend and smiled. Bulma hadn't expected to enjoy a date to a batting cage, but it had turned out to be a great way to let off steam after her argument with a badly injured Vegeta three days prior.
"I'm glad you liked it, babe. Isn't it a great way to get over some anger?" The warrior was still elated that Bulma had taken to his idea of a good date so readily.
"Seriously... I practically forget what I was upset about now!"
Yamcha cleared his throat and drew a wiggling line in the condensation accumulating on the window. "So... do you think he's alright?"
"Why should I care if that jackass is alright? He probably did something to deserve it..." Bulma grumbled and folded her arms over her chest. Yamcha noticed how she dipped her chin and couldn't help but think her body language resembled the Saiyan's.
"You're that pissed, huh?"
"Aaaagh! I don't even want to think about Vegeta, let alone talk about him! Yamcha, don't bring up that- that alien again for a while! He said he'll call, to quote him directly: "when he fucking well feels like it", so that's when he'll fucking well call us! Come on, Yamcha, let's go inside and have a drink!"
Three days passed with Vegeta spending much of it in a haze. Out of frustration, he forced himself to train on the third day but stopped when his wounds started to tear back open and bleed; it took another forty minutes in the bathroom to clean himself up and bandage the wounds before he was satisfied with his handiwork and trusted himself to go to sleep.
On the fourth day, Vegeta woke up with a fever and accepted the reality he needed proper medical treatment. Some of the wounds dealt to his thighs had grown inflamed and were starting to ooze pus.
He went upstairs to the pilot's seat and checked his current coordinates. By sheer luck, he was roughly fifty hours away from Frieza Station 802, a lonely hub that was considered a "last resort" by injured soldiers due to its lack of nightlife and comfortable accommodations.
Vegeta recalled the station's call number, having memorized thousands of them as a teenager in order to prove his worth as a soldier to Frieza, and nervously dialled the station's tiny clinic.
A squat, frog-like man with pastel blue skin answered the call and his bright hazel eyes grew wide when he recognized Vegeta on the video screen. As a physician, Doctor Zelen had treated Vegeta like any other patient, but as a man, he was terrified of the Saiyan prince and wanted nothing to do with him.
"By gods... you really are alive! Vegeta, why did you call this station? There's absolutely nothing here you could want."
"Doctor, I am in desperate need medical assistance. A few days ago, I was attacked and cannot take care of the wounds by myself. I am roughly fifty hours away. Do not turn me away. Please." Vegeta tried to shoot his most intimidating glare at the doctor but the discomfort of his injuries tinged his expression. He gently pressed one of the bandaged areas with his fingertips and hissed with pain.
Despite his reservations, Doctor Zelen agreed to treat Vegeta when he arrived. "I don't know if we could have you spend much time in a healing tank... there aren't many people left on this station, but I am certain you are quite aware that you are entering very unfriendly territory, Vegeta."
"Yeah, yeah," Vegeta rolled his eyes, "I know a bunch of people are pissed off at me. I won't cause trouble if none is given to me, understand?"
"I only hope so. Please call me again when you are approaching and I'll do my best to accommodate you."
Raditz sat up in his bed with Vegeta straddling his hips and ran the tip of his tongue down the prince's slender neck. "Mmm, I like it when you're on top..."
The elder Saiyan was already naked while Vegeta was down to his leggings. The recessed lights in the ceiling had been dimmed and programmed so they emitted a soft amber glow. The smell of incense and mood-altering herbs was heavy in the warm room.
Vegeta let his head roll back and he sighed. "Yeah, me too... you owe me, Raditz. I saved your hide on that mission."
"Guess I do... how shall I service you, my prince?" Raditz chuckled and kissed Vegeta's bare chest. When Vegeta sighed again, he took a nipple in his mouth and rolled his tongue around it before gently biting down on the firm flesh.
"Ah!" Vegeta's grip tightened around Raditz' huge shoulders. "Do that thing where you get me all hot for half an hour before we get to sex. I think that'd be a good start. And don't you even think of letting up until I say I'm satisfied!"
Raditz chuckled and nipped at Vegeta's shoulders and crook of his neck. "Damn, someday I won't be able to keep up with you! Where's all that energy coming from, hmm?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Vegeta returned the affection by nibbling on Raditz' earlobe when he leaned in to whisper. He ground against the elder Saiyan's erection and started to wiggle out of his leggings.
He found himself being moved onto his back and Raditz was in between his spread legs, quickly pulling off the form-fitting leggings and tossing them across the room. The Saiyan prince took a deep breath and bit his lower lip in anticipation when he felt Raditz' fingers moving back up his inner thighs as his tongue travelled down his belly and towards his erection.
He shut his eyes and a moan escaped from his throat.
Vegeta's eyes snapped open and he found himself back on board the Capsule Corp ship, with all the lights shut off except for his bedside lamp and the bright light above the sink in the kitchenette. Between the painful wounds to his thighs, a dry mouth, rumbling stomach, and an uncomfortable erection, the Saiyan was most displeased that he'd woken up feeling less than one hundred percent.
Still, he rose out of bed and went into his bathroom to have a hot shower. He cleaned his wounds carefully and found the inflammation had increased, but there still wasn't much pus or fluid.
I'll take what I can get right now, he thought bitterly, and hopefully an infection won't get out of control before I get to Station 802.
Cleaned off to his personal level of satisfaction, Vegeta sat on the shower's small molded seat and draped a hot hand towel across his shoulders. His erection hadn't gone away in spite of the discomfort of cleaning his wounds, and he accepted he had to deal with this too.
After his shower, Vegeta went into the kitchenette and cooked an entire carton of pasteurized eggs and had it alongside several pieces of flat bread smeared with sweet fruit preserves. He drank three large glasses of water, took a single painkiller tablet, and returned to bed.
For the next two days, his routine consisted of cleaning his wounds twice daily, four small meals spaced every three hours apart, gentle stretching, a lot of sleep, brooding, and little else. The Saiyan set an alarm to wake him four hours before he reached the station, so he could inform Doctor Zalen and make arrangements for a quiet landing.
When Vegeta awoke to call Doctor Zalen, his fever was higher and his legs ached terribly. Forcing himself into the pilot's seat, he dialled the station's clinic and waited to be connected.
Doctor Zelen answered on the second connection tone. "Vegeta. When you arrive, dock at Gate 4. You'll locate the clinic four hundred metres down the corridor- trust me, you won't miss it. The station is pretty dead these days anyway... I doubt anybody is going to give you trouble, should you run into some poor soul stuck in this hole. How are you holding up?"
"Fever. Thirst. I'm pretty certain the wounds on my legs are infected, but the damage to my side is healing nicely."
The doctor nodded, almost sympathetic. "How far away are you now?"
"About four hours, Doctor," Vegeta quickly wiped his damp brow and tried to ignore his shivering. A cold bead of sweat down his armpit and side made him grimace.
"If you have any antipyretic tablets, take two with a glass of water or light juice. Eat something light and bland if you can manage. No alcohol. Try to avoid taking any more painkillers until I see you, if possible."
The Saiyan gave a slow nod. "Understood."
Doctor Zelen studied Vegeta, hunched over in his chair with his eyes downcast and arms wrapped tightly around his chest, hands tucked into his armpits. He'd always been intimidated by the Saiyan warrior and had heard truly horrifying stories about the things he was capable of doing, but he'd never seen the powerful man look so defeated before. "You'll be back to normal before much longer, Vegeta. I promise that you'll be in good care. Other than that... how are you doing, Vegeta?"
"Lonely," he instantly muttered in reply, only realizing what he'd admitted to three seconds later, his almond-shaped eyes widened with horror and his lips curled down into a furious scowl, "I'll see you soon, Doctor." Vegeta disconnected and hunched over again, shivering and sweating.
A hard, dry lump rose slowly up his throat and refused to be swallowed back down into the chest. The Saiyan's eyes started to sting and he rubbed them, desperate to suppress that awful urge to cry out loud. I can't give in to it, he coached himself silently, think of what could happen if you were to break down or get hysterical! One long, high-pitched whine escaped before he coughed and gagged, a few hot tears rolling down his cheeks before he started counting his breath and forcing the ache he couldn't escape deep down again.
To Be Continued