BY : Felix_McKraken
Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 1872
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z or any of the characters. This was made purely for entertainment purposes and no profit is made off of it.

Nowhere: εε

With his cheek resting in the palm of his hand, Vegeta looked relaxed at first glance. His head turned slightly, just enough to indicate he heard and acknowledged that he now had company, before returning to his previous position gazing at the garden. Goku, unsure of how to initiate conversation, grabbed another chair and pulled it up even closer beside the other man.

He wasn’t very blessed with acumen at the best of times – barring combat – and being aware of this shortcoming made him hesitant and perhaps more appropriately put: apprehensive.

They sat in silence for several minutes, and it was long enough that most misgivings faded away entirely. Vegeta ended up breaching the stillness by declaring, “It’s like a dream.”

The younger man was inclined to agree from his own perspective, but he also wasn’t sure what Vegeta was referring to in particular.

As if he was aware of this confusion, the brunet elaborated, “Everything’s lucid, but nothing makes sense.” He lifted his face and outstretched his palm, flexing it in and out of a fist, “And I know I shouldn’t feel like I’m weak, and yet…”

When it was obvious that Vegeta had abandoned the statement and would no longer clarify, Goku did what he thought he could for the situation and offer affirmations, “I don’t think you’re weak.”

The fingers curled, clenching tightly and the prince’s tone turned acerbic, “I have no need or want for your pity.”

“It’s not pity,” Goku protested, “I’ve never thought of you as weak.”

The shorter man sneered, “I don’t know what’s worse: you lying to my face, or you lying to my face and not even knowing it.”

Goku huffed out a frustrated sigh as his friend abruptly and deftly steered the conversation into an impasse. He took a moment to collect his thoughts, but he couldn’t prevent a lour from overtaking his features, “I don’t think it’s fair for you to tell me how I feel.”

“Mm,” the brunet grunted softly, his hand relaxing and falling limp at the wrist before he pulled back and folded his arms across his chest. A part of him wanted to say Likewise, but logically he knew it was a non sequitur. Kakarot had done no such thing, at least in their present discourse, so he kept the comment to himself. He wanted to get wrapped up in the wind blowing through the trees again, to watch the sway of the branches and dancing of the leaves. He wanted to lose himself in the tiny dramas of the animals that lived there, unaware that a dangerous predator watched them for pure entertainment value and with no malice. Kakarot’s intrusion and continued presence unfortunately prevented that. He observed, but could no longer be absorbed as he was minutes prior.

Goku remained fixated on the royalty – his visage, his posture, his general aura. He looked… rigid. Now that he thought on it, it seemed to be the rule and not the exception. Vegeta appeared to constantly be in a state of tension. He thought that it must be tiring; however it was pointless to bring that information to any sort of attention since it was unwanted and therefore divisive. In fact, with his concentration so narrowed, he was able to appraise his chi in finer detail. At first or second glance it would seem normal, but there, at the very edges, was an anomaly. Part of what made it difficult to discern was its unpredictability. It was an arrhythmic palpitation, a sporadic aliasing. Goku hadn’t witnessed anything quite like it before and it made him wonder if this was another symptom to his recent diagnosis. This instantly caused him to debate with himself on whether or not he should disclose what little findings King Kai had given.

Would it benefit Vegeta to know his position when it was uncontrollable? Unalterable? Goku couldn’t begin to fathom his reaction. In the past he didn’t typically contemplate consequences as thoroughly, probably because so many of his relationships were engineered in reverse. Instead of acquaintances to friends, the movement often was from enemies to allies to friends. He knew people as they were in crisis or times of strife and eventually grew to know them in the everyday. The latter of which usually wasn’t quite as exciting, but the older he became the more his appreciation grew. His love would always be first and foremost fighting, but that didn’t mean everything else had to be discarded or held to the wayside.

What this ultimately meant was his cognizance in regards to the other Saiyan was in the form of a duality. He understood Vegeta at his core with this thirst for improvement and to be a virtuoso fighter ever breaching the limit. The brunet’s ambition coupled with his pomposity drove him to be inconsiderate of others as well as impetuous in conflict. When he was objective, he erred on the side of being overly reliant on practicality to the point where ethics were no longer a consideration. His callous exterior projected an unquenchable vehemence, a bitter grudge that would not be satiated regardless of the type or amount of vengeance.

Yet, furthermore, Vegeta’s heart was not dominated by blood-lust. It wasn’t an insignificant portion by any stretch of the imagination, but it wasn’t primarily in the foreground. Pride took that position. And it didn’t merely guide or direct the prince - it railroaded him. Such a force only allowed for diametric results: either his pride would bulldoze through a presented obstacle or everything became derailed. He had personally borne witness to a derailment, and it had been a severe, lugubrious affair punctuated horribly at the end by Vegeta’s (thankfully nonfinal) death. He knew his fellow Saiyan was strong and capable, but he did not want to be responsible for a monumental disaster, especially if all it took to avoid it was to keep his mouth shut.

And presently, his options felt as complex and biased as a coin toss.

Goku realised he had been staring all this time, but his friend remained taciturn. Either he wasn’t aware of the scrutiny or wasn’t bothered enough to address it. Frankly, Goku suspected the second scenario. It seemed much more plausible that he begrudgingly accepted the attention rather than escalate with no guarantee that it would be worth his while. Vegeta operated on his own terms and would rarely, if at all, consider another’s. Goku teetered back and forth on making a decision. Several times he took a deep breath only to release a sigh instead of exposition.

The sound of the balcony door sliding open interrupted his vacillation. Earth’s hero looked over while the brunet did his minute cocking of the head.

Bulma looked mildly bemused at his presence, “Goku, when did you get here?”

“Oh, uh, not that long ago.”

He noticed her grip tighten on the door handle at his response. She asked, “Would you join me in the other room, please?”

Everything about her present state made him want to turn down the request. It was because she was exuding the same aura Chi-Chi would before scolding him. The polite tone had a thorny quality to it. He had experience with turning down the request too and knew better than to walk into that trap. He got up and stretched, replying casually, “Sure thing.”

He followed her inside and she led him to a more private location. Once they were alone, she skipped right to it, “What did King Kai have to say?”

“He wanted to see if he could help.”

The heiress’ countenance perked up, “And?”

Inwardly he cringed as he realised he’d just given her hope only to subsequently rip it away. “He said there’s nothing that can be done,” he informed her in the gentlest voice possible. Her responding expression seemed a haphazard mixture of unsurprised and dejected.

“Of course,” she whispered to herself.

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