Human Hospitality

by scoutergreen

Chapter 43

On The Upswing

It took Vegeta an entire week to recover from his sprained ankle and shin splints, which caused him a fair amount of pain, especially at night. Over the duration of the week, Bulma insisted Vegeta spend time underneath the lamps, eventually increasing the time to a full thirty minutes.

Much to Bulma's surprise, Vegeta not only cooperated, but by the fourth day he was showing up at the lab on his own, hopping into the chair and muttering at her to "get that shit going right away".

Her idea to subject Vegeta to periods of time underneath simulated sunlight produced the effect she wanted: basically, his mood improved to the point where he wasn't snapping at anybody and even engaged in dinnertime conversation. She wasn't entirely surprised to discover his mood changed, and made notes of the change in his personality.

Over the course of the summer months, Vegeta had spent so much time sunbathing (and developing a very deep tan in the process) that it had become something of an inside joke between the Briefs family members, but the hot months had also been the months when Vegeta was at his most cooperative and borderline easygoing. So, naturally, Bulma thought it was ideal to replicate the conditions that were most likely responsible for his good mood: sunlight and warmth. It was just a hunch, but Bulma was also quite certain that the lunar cycle played a huge role in Vegeta's mood as well.

One night as he continued to recover from the injuries sustained during his seclusion in the simulator, Vegeta knocked softly on Bulma's door before creeping inside, opening the door just wide enough to let himself in before he noiselessly shut it. He could smell the oil-infused salts Bulma poured into her bath and sensed she was still in the tub.

He pulled off his shirt and lay on her bed, soon focused on the clutter on her bedside table. Why did she own so much crap? There were two jewelry boxes (Vegeta did notice she owned a great number of pieces, but almost never wore jewelry), a lamp, two screwdrivers, a pack of screws, a bottle of lotion, an ashtray (never empty) and two packs of cigarettes. He was certain she would be halfway through both packs, and a curious peek confirmed his suspicions.

The sound of splashing water, followed by a few moments of silence. Water going down a drain. The bathroom door opened to reveal Bulma in a short housecoat, her damp hair combed out (she was getting very tired of the permed hair) and pinned up. Her skin was flushed from the hot bath, something Vegeta picked up on right away.

"Not like you to hang around in here. What's up, Vegeta?" She rummaged through her very full wardrobe for something to wear to bed, making a mental note that she needed to go through what she owned and get rid of the things she didn't wear any more. It would give her an excuse to have a all-day shopping excursion at any rate.

"Mm," he continued looking at the clutter on her bedside table, "just wondering why you own so much crap."

"Yeah, I do need to get rid of some stuff, don't I?" She finally decided on a pair of cotton shorts and a light t-shirt, openly dressing in front of Vegeta. He'd seen it all before. When she lay beside him, he didn't get out of bed or sit up like usual, but instead he remained laid back on her bed, looking remarkably content.

"You're warm. Your skin is so warm. C'mere," he lazily rolled over and draped an arm over her midsection, resting his head on her breasts, "hnnngh, I am getting sick of this cold."

"Me too," Bulma ran her fingers through Vegeta's thick hair, "but it's supposed to warm up this coming week..."

"Oh, good. And hopefully everything won't look and feel so fucking miserable within the next seven days, too."

"Aw, Vegeta... you really hate this weather, don't you?"

"Positively loathsome."

"My poor, handsome prince..." Bulma wordlessly coaxed him into sitting up so she could shift her weight and took the opportunity to kiss his forehead, "but I know how to take your mind off the weather..."

When Bulma's period arrived on time two days later, a huge weight was relieved from her already-burdened shoulders. A few nights prior, she and Vegeta had sex on a few occasions over the course of several hours (not unusual) before the Saiyan opted to spend the night with Bulma in her room (quite unusual), even sleeping in until noon (very unusual).

She hadn't told Vegeta that the condom had actually broken inside her during one of their more vigorous sessions, opting to lie and tell him it had snapped as he withdrew.

"Happens from time to time, but don't worry! I doubled up with the pill anyway, so there's no risk of any accidents, if you know what I mean," she'd told him, slipping into the washroom to clean up.

Even with two methods of birth control, Bulma had felt very uneasy after the incident, and even after her period arrived, the engineer kept thinking about the fact that she'd had unprotected sex with the alien for an entire hour before coming to the conclusion that she needed to visit her physician just to confirm she hadn't picked up anything.

Then, over a dinner of roast chicken and vegetables, Bulma realized she knew very, very little about Vegeta's sex life before they'd met. She recalled his casual admission to buying sex from a prostitute. Sometimes, when he spoke of his past, Bulma picked up on something that hinted towards bisexuality. Although Vegeta seemed to dislike any mention of sex in mixed company, behind closed doors the Saiyan had a large sexual appetite, an interest in experimentation, and no reservations in talking about what he liked. His murky background left the engineer wondering just where and how he'd developed his skills in the bedroom.

A week later and with a clean bill of health, Bulma felt somewhat reassured and was more than happy to resume sexual activity with Vegeta. She'd denied his advances on several occasions over the week, and although Vegeta didn't persist or become angry if she said "no", he did pick up on some kind of new, uncomfortable energy that left him very confused about what was going on. Why does she suddenly dislike me, he asked himself, she's never done this to me before! How have I wronged her?

Of course, Vegeta wasn't about to ask her why she had been acting that way. It was quite possible that she was simply being a bitch for the sake of being a bitch, a behaviour the Saiyan was admittedly very familiar with. Sometimes he needed to just openly express his deep disdain or those around him, and the easiest way to do that was to just get mean, and as far as the Saiyan could tell, Bulma did exactly the same thing when she was stressed out, angry, under the weather, very tired, or hungry.

Finally, when they were alone in Vegeta's bedroom with the television set to a forgettable comedy film, Bulma asked him a line of questions that left him both very uncomfortable and quite uncertain as to answer them. "Just how many people have you slept with? Why do you hire prostitutes? When did you lose your virginity? Have you ever been treated for STI's?"

"The fuck's a "S-T-I"?" He replied through a mouthful of popcorn, brow rising with suspicion.

"A sexually transmitted infection."

"No," he lied, "that's one of the things I managed not to land myself in a clinic for."

"Hmm. So what about the other stuff?"

I'd better tell her something now, lest I find myself living a life of celibacy...

"Alright, fine. Not as many as you may suspect. It's a rare man who doesn't visit a whore house at some point during his service, and I am no exception. Saiyans have voracious sexual appetites. My first experience was when I was nineteen. That's it."

Bulma's brows rose, although she wasn't surprised in the least by Vegeta's dry answers. She let this information sink in before following up: "so... who was your first time?"

"Raditz," the Saiyan answered without missing a beat, more interested in the popcorn by that point. When Bulma choked on her drink and coughed, totally surprised by the revelation, Vegeta looked over at her and shook his head with apparent disapproval. "You seem very surprised by all this."

"Well yeah," she cleared her throat, "you fooling around with Goku's brother isn't something I expected! Now don't get me wrong, I don't have any issues with i-"

"Issues?" His upper lip curled with disgust.

"Well, some women would be very, very surprised and possibly disapprove of a guy who... well..."

"I don't care about other women. I want to know why you're so surprised."

"I'm just... well, I am surprised! Because I thought you didn't like the guy."

"Oh, I hated Raditz. But we were close."

"In more ways than one, by the sounds of it... anyway, Vegeta, I was just wondering about all that because we are sleeping together, after all."

Vegeta's response was made in the form of his focus returning to the film, his hand always in the bowl of popcorn. When it was over, he requested Bulma to leave his room so he could get ready for bed. After his recovery period, he was ready to resume training, albeit at a significantly less intense level than at the beginning of January.

As the weather gradually warmed up and the snow melted until there was nothing left but thin patches in shady areas and piles of grey, filthy compacted snow and ice on the side of the roads, Vegeta settled into a training routine that was actually quite reasonable. He trained from five fifteen until seven thirty every morning except for Sunday (the one day he allowed himself to sleep in until eight after learning some human religious practices promoted or even enforced a day of rest), from nine until one thirty, and again in the afternoon or evening, whenever he awoke from his near-daily nap. When Vegeta wasn't training, napping, or eating, he frequently observed Bulma at work from a comfortable distance, occasionally engaged Mrs. Briefs in conversation (it gave him an excuse to watch her cook), and very rarely he spoke to Yamcha.

Sometimes, although the human was unaware of it, Vegeta watched Yamcha training and made fastidious mental notes about his weaknesses along what could be improved on, or exploited.

Bulma made sure to continue exposing Vegeta to the light experiment, still reporting his relatively decent moods, regular sleeping patterns, appetite, and overall physical condition.

One afternoon, as Vegeta rose out of the white chair that cradled his body during the light periods, one of the buttons on his shirt popped from the strain of his increasingly muscular chest.

"Guess you need to get that wardrobe updated, hmm? You've put on some weight yet again, buddy!" Bulma laughed at how poorly fitted the shirt had become in such a short period of time and looked the Saiyan up and down, admiring his built physique. He seemed predisposed to being lean, but between his rigorous training and diet, the weight gain was inevitable.

"Naturally. This means another trip to that place where you seem to acquire most of your own clothing, along with mine, correct?"

"You mean "the mall", Vegeta? Why, you wanna come?"

"I may as well," he shrugged, "considering I am the man wearing the clothing."

Oh dear lord, Bulma swallowed a lump in her throat, if he actually goes through with going to the mall... how's this gonna work?

"Sounds like a plan," she struggled to keep her voice cheerful, "we can head out in an hour if you want."

Again, Vegeta shrugged. "May as well."

To Be Continued