Human Hospitality

by scoutergreen

Chapter 37

Connection and Clash

A week passed by rather uneventfully. Bulma finally completed all work on the new simulator (something that allowed her to avoid both Yamcha and Vegeta) which satisfied the Saiyan for approximately three days before he got bored and demanded that the simulator be upgraded to produce a greater gravitational pull.

Dr. Briefs only reluctantly started work on another simulator after Vegeta demonstrated some of his explosive telekinetic abilities on various lab equipment in a fit of rage.

Vegeta settled into a comfortable routine of early mornings, intense training, frequent meals, afternoon naps, and a small amount of leisure time in the evening, which he typically enjoyed on his own. After his experience with Bulma, he couldn't help but feel a little strange when he had to face her and her family at the table in the morning. It had been so long since Vegeta had sex that he'd become completely focused on getting himself off, and he only realized just how rough and to-the-point he'd been after he'd told Bulma to leave the room so he could sleep. He almost felt guilty about the whole thing.

When it came to women, the only experience the Saiyan had with them was when they were waitresses, bartenders, vendors, strippers, or prostitutes. He was used to getting his way, having women serving him, being able to speak to them however he pleased, and the unspoken idea that his pleasure was priority. In his teen years, Vegeta had known a female mechanic who worked on Planet 79, and while he admired and trusted her work, he was also very intimidated by the fact that she didn't make any attempt to charm or please him. She would challenge his opinions, demanded he never curse in her work space, and occasionally invited him to watch her make repairs to his pod. When she was transferred to work on a space station for five years, Vegeta was secretly heartbroken. He never heard from her again.

One evening, Bulma decided that the cure for the overheated feeling she couldn't shake after an afternoon of welding was a dip in the pool. She changed into a two piece swimsuit and jumped in the cool water, coming up for air with a loud whoop for joy. After a few lazy laps, she opted to linger in the deep end, resting her arms on the ledge and contentedly hanging in the water.

She opened her eyes when she heard footsteps across the tile and sighed when she recognized the the long, broad feet and the confident gait of the Saiyan prince. He approached the pool's edge and dove in gracefully, swimming down until he was almost at the bottom of the deep end before pushing himself back up to the surface. He finally swam over to her and propped his arms up on the edge of the pool. They were only a few inches apart. Bulma could feel his body heat radiating with enough intensity to warm her own skin.

"Hello," he grinned, flashing sharp, straight, bright teeth, "cooling off?"

"Yeah," Bulma pushed off the pool wall with her feet, "welding all afternoon in the heat is enough to completely drain me."

"New simulator?" He pushed off the edge and lazily swam in circles, partially floating on his back.

"Ugggh! Vegeta! It's being built as quickly as humanly possible. My Dad's working on it for you day in and day out, and he's no slouch. If you want a new challenge, I'll go out and get a weighted vest for you to wear during your training."

"A what?" Vegeta returned to the pool's edge. He couldn't help but look at Bulma's swimsuit and notice what it just barely covered. The top and bottom were fastened with strings tied in flimsy-looking bows...

"A weighted vest. It'll give you just a bit more resistance in the meantime. Goku uses weighted clothing to train, you know..."

That tidbit of information was enough to completely capture Vegeta's attention. "Oh really? And you know where to procure the same kind of garment?"

"They're kinda common here, honestly..." Bulma sighed, "I can pick one up in the morning."

"Fair enough."

They both hung onto the edge of the pool and floated in the water, small splashes echoing in the huge tiled room.

Finally, Bulma noticed Vegeta's lips curling into his crooked grin. "I like your swimwear."

"I bet you do," the engineer mirrored Vegeta's smirk.

Vegeta laughed in spite of himself. "I was thinking, though..." his face started to grow red but he maintained eye contact.

"Thinking about..." Bulma's voice dropped and she broke eye contact with Vegeta, "I don't know, Vegeta... that evening... it wasn't exactly what I'm into."

Bulma did not expect Vegeta to nod in agreement. "I do know. It's been a while, and maybe, just maybe, I got a bit self-absorbed in the moment."

Although suspicious, Bulma tilted her chin up, knowing he would interpret it as a challenge and an invitation to continue making his case. "So you do have a girlfriend or something out there, hmm? Who is she?"

"She was a prostitute. I paid for an hour and got what I wanted."

Bulma physically recoiled from Vegeta and looked him up and down, nose wrinkling with disgust. "Seriously? Wow. That kind of explains a lot, right there."

"Hey!" Vegeta snapped back, brows furrowing, "you want the truth? I'm not good with women. I lived most of my life in close quarters with men. Women are... have been a real fucking minority for me over the years, and the majority said minority worked in areas you people seem to classify as "service" type jobs. Women almost always serve me and make damn sure they smile."

"Okay, so you're admitting you're a misogynist?"

It was the Saiyan's turn to recoil slightly and look at Bulma through narrowed eyes. "I don't hate women any more than I might hate a man or any other sex."

"You're just used to them being waitresses or strippers, and being able to treat them poorly if you want, and having power over them. They're not your equal, but then again, perhaps you believe most beings are not your equal?"

The Saiyan knew Bulma wasn't really questioning him any more. She's no idiot, that's for sure, he thought, mulling over her words. After a long minute, he looked over at Bulma and shrugged. "It is what it is."

Bulma sighed, and finally swam back towards Vegeta. "It's a fair explanation. Thank you for being open with me. I don't really like it, but as you say, it is what it is."

Vegeta's hands slid into the water and teasingly pulled on the strings of the woman's bottoms. "I can do so much better..."

"Under a few conditions, Vegeta."

He grinned and started to pull down her bottoms. "Which are?"

"Knock it off!" She grabbed his thick wrists and he stopped immediately, easily sliding out of her grasp and backing off. "You're gonna slow down this time. I'm experienced and I know what I like, and you're gonna listen to me when I tell you if something feels good or not. Human women have some pretty sweet spots. We should try different positions. And... you're bigger than you realize, so being a little gentle wouldn't be a bad thing."

Vegeta simply smirked. I'm sure she's stroking my ego, so to speak, but whatever...

"Woman, I accept your conditions."

"Good. My room, eleven thirty..."

"No. My room."

"What? Why?"

"For one, your room smells like those cigarettes you smoke. And you're messy. Makes me anxious."

Bulma rolled her eyes, but conceded. "Alright. Your room. Eleven thirty. You'd better come through this time, Your Highness..." she pushed herself out of the pool and wrapped a towel around her waist.

Vegeta swam towards the centre of the pool and his smirk returned. "We'll just see, won't we?"

It was 12:45 AM when the two finally lay back on Vegeta's bed, slick with sweat and Bulma taking a few minutes to catch her breath. Finally, she sighed and giggled. "See what happens when you slow down and take a few suggestions?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes and sat up to remove the final condom they'd used. He knotted it closed, tossed it into the wastepaper basket underneath his beside table, and lay back on the bed. "Yeah, yeah, yeah..."

Bulma started to rub Vegeta's shoulder and leaned in closer. "Keep on like this and maybe we can make it a regular thing..."

The Saiyan rolled onto his side, turning his back to Bulma, and let out the softest growl of annoyance. "I'm going to go take a shower," he sat up again and remained still when Bulma got up onto her knees placed her hands on his broad shoulders. Her breasts pressed against his back and both of them simultaneously noted the new heat on their bodies.

"Why don't we shower together? That might be fun..."

"No. We're done here for the night," he stood up and rolled his shoulders, "I have to train in the morning. Let me know when you've acquired the weighted vest."

He went to his en-suite washroom without saying another word and the sound of running water started seconds later. Slowly, Bulma rose from the bed and got dressed again. She hadn't been completely surprised by Vegeta's insistence that he shower alone, his mind clearly focused on training, but it still felt incredibly cold.

She crept out of his room and tip-toed across the hallway back to her room.

The following morning, Bulma took her usual seat at the table as Mrs. Briefs cooked and whistled a cheerful tune. Vegeta followed soon after, speaking with Dr. Briefs about something concerning the new simulator. Finally, Yamcha came downstairs and took the last seat at the table, which wedged him in between Bulma and Mrs. Briefs.

Over breakfast, Yamcha dared to look on as Vegeta and Bulma constantly looked at each other. They made eye contact, and they maintained eye contact for long stretches of time. How Bulma could stand to look at the Saiyan, Yamcha had no idea, but it was enough to make him lose his appetite. When Vegeta wasn't looking at Bulma and apparently listening intently to what she had to say, he was passionately expanding on an "idea" he had for his custom-built gravity simulator with Dr. Briefs, who was nothing short of intrigued by what Vegeta had to say.

A flood of questions hit Yamcha. He literally bit his tongue and struggled to finish his small glass of grapefruit juice. How could these decent people accept this literal monster and allow him to live in their house? Why were they all catering to him and taking his ideas and opinions into consideration? But most pressing of all, why was one of his very best friends, the woman he cared for so deeply, constantly looking over at the awful Saiyan?

Yamcha was very certain that Bulma wasn't spending all her time working, either. He may have become preoccupied with training and sports, but he was not a stupid man. Something was going on.

Temper at risk of boiling over, Yamcha finally pushed his glass of juice away, left the table, and headed out the door. A full day of training awaited him.

The sky was streaked with red, orange, and pink as Yamcha returned to the Capsule compound. His training had been successful, and he actually attributed his good training session to his anger in the morning. When Yamcha spotted Vegeta out on the back patio, using the barrier's thin railing as a balance beam, his anger flared up again, he stormed over, and stood before the Saiyan with his arms folded over his chest.

"I need to talk to you. Now."

Vegeta moved into an Arabesque, held it for five seconds, and effortlessly transitioned into a front flip before straightening up to his full height. "Then speak."

"You need to watch it around Bulma. Don't even think about messing around with her, buddy."

"Excuse me?" Vegeta continued to walk up and down the barrier, gracefully turning on the balls of his feet and flipping back and forth with precision, barely paying any mind to the furious man confronting him.

"You heard me, Vegeta. Don't touch Bulma. Don't even look at her the wrong way! She and I have been friends for a long time, even way more than just friends, and the last thing she needs is to get involved with a total sleaze like you."

The Saiyan paused in the middle of his impromptu balance beam exercises and hopped off the railing and pulled Yamcha in close by the collar of his t-shirt. "Not only shall I continue to do whatever I want, but I'm pretty sure the woman has the right to do whatever she wants too. What authority have you to tell anybody here what to do? You have three seconds to fuck off," Vegeta released the warrior's clothing, "one..."

"Fuck you, Vegeta!"

Yamcha didn't even have time to see Vegeta's fist about to make contact with his right cheek, let alone react to it. One brutal hit was all it took to split the inside of Yamcha's cheek open and knock out a tooth. The man moaned and doubled over, his jaw slack and head buzzing. Fat drops of blood and drool splattered onto the finished wood of the deck, and Yamcha watched the mess with a growing sense of detachment.

"Mind how you speak to royalty, you fucking peasant!" Vegeta strolled past Yamcha and returned inside.

To Be Continued