The Meaning of Pride | By : CardDragonBall Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 13043 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own DragonballZ, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Time
for the warnings portion:
A.
I own nothing by my own two hands.
All the characters portrayed here were kidnapped from their show DBZ and
forced to enact my wishes.
B.
Whilst mostly I strive to make this “in character” and not “AU” we must
all remember it is fanfiction. (I’m
getting a bit snotty here, aren’t I?)
C.
Smut. Vegeta POV. Slash.
(That’s two boys bumping uglies, by the way.)
D.
If you didn’t read the warnings, you are on your own I have no sympathy
for you.
And
lastly:
Got this idea off the DBZ Saiyan
Slash mailing list. Will probably be
posting it there and at AFF.net
~~***
Crushing
the earring had been his way of informing the thick-headed one that all that
bullshit he had fed him about the death of their past, and the needing treatreate a new definition of their race was exactly that: Bullshit.
But
he knew that somewhere in that thick-sickeningly happy head of the overgrown
earth-raised idiot, Kakarot knew it too.
Knew that he had allowed himself to be defeated and while he always
stood up after he got knocked down, gave Vegeta that look that was both a
reproach and a strange sort of apology, Vegeta was certain Kakarot had not
wanted to be defeated. Because he never
remained second best. Ever.
Which
brought them back to Vegeta. Who was
ond ond bestan san style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Who was the Prince of a
race that was either extinct or so spread out over the innumerous planets that
its chance of coming together again in time for him to take his throne as King
was incalculably slim. Kakarot had told
him that the way of life Vegeta was trying to uphold, that his position as
Prince was null and void. Because there
was nobody over whom he ruled. Of
course, Vegeta could continue to fool himself into believing that he honestly
ruled Kakarot, but he knew that was not the truth. The idiot was a force unto himself that was uncontrollable. Not even the woman that bitched and shouted
and claimed to be his wife really had any control there. Not the sons that looked like their father
and fought like their father. Not the
enemies that always came and tried to defeat Kakarot.
Nobody
had ever controlled that idiot and nobody ever would.
Which,
again, brought them straight back to Vegeta.
Who had been subjected to years serving in Freiza’s deranged army. Who had watched the destruction of
everything he had been promised at birth.
His life was torn away from him and what he was handed was a
mockery. He was the Prince of
nothing. The Almighty Vegeta that
couldn’t defeat a third-rate. He could
hear his father laughing, somewhere, and it rankled him. Annoyed the hell out of him. Pissed him off.
But
he had fused with the idiot anyway. To
save this planet. To save his son. To save the woman that he had decided to be
with. And being a part of that
uncontrolled force drove the point home to him in a painful way. Because Kakarot was so much more inside than
he ever projected outside. That
happiness was not feigned. It was
real. There was a well of goodness
inside of him that would never dry up, and within that, and all around that,
Kakarot was Saiyan. A warrior.
Disgusting.
When
they broke apart, he had crushed the earring.
Because he couldn’t stand the idea of having to be trapped inside of
that goodness, to become the subservient personality the way he had become the
second best. He felt the anger roll off
Kakarot and heard him mutter his little annoyance and crush the earring. He didn’t care. He wasn’t going to be a part of that moron again. He was himself. He was Vegeta.
The
Prince of a dead race.
The
second best.
When
it was over, when he had his son and his woman back. He was forced to think to himself if it was worth it. What would have happened if he was stuck
with Kakarot still. What a difference
it would have made. If he would be
stronger than he was now. And at the
same time, he told himself he was being an idiot. That the fusion had damaged part of his brain. That something had been left behind of the
moron’s and it wasn’t leaving.
Then
the woman—Bulma—she had kissed him, and hugged him and asked him if he had
fused with Kakarot to save her or to become stronger. He never answered her, listened to her whine about how she was
just curious, that there was no wrong answer.
And he thought that yes, there was a wrong answer. They were both wrong answers.
He
had fused with Kakarot because he was weak.
He had allowed himself to be swayed by the emotions the other Saiyan
felt so potently. Allowed words to
supercede his judgment, and every day since, he felt sick to know that he had
allowed it to happen. That he had somehow
let down Saiyan pride.
Kakarot
stayed away. But Vegeta could feel him
out there. Doing whatever it was that
he always did. Training with the
earthlings. Staying with his woman. Raising the brat. Now the brat he saw a lot of, because his son and Kakarot’s whelp
were always together. He watched the
little one and thought of his father.
Wondered if the brat was going to get stronger than Trunks one day. The whelp was good-natured like his father,
but just because Kakarot smiled all the time and laughed and loved everything
that he ever camecontcontact with didn’t mean he would fight to the death if
the chance arose.
A
year passed. And then another. His woman finally pointed out that he seemed
to be entirely preoccupied, and while ‘yes, Saiyans do have long lifespans,
that doesn’t mean he needed to waste years brooding.’ He brushed it off. She
persisted: “You know,” she said, “I
talked to Chichi the other day and I was thinking that maybe it would be nice
to see Goku and her again.”
He
didn’t say anything. If the woman
wanted to see them, then she could invite them over to her house. He didn’t care, and he didn’t have to be
there just because she invited them. And
if he was, that didn’t mean he neededspeaspeak with the moron or even care
about his continued existence.
~~~****
Goku
didn’t get nervous. He also never
showed up to things on time. So when Chichi
told him they were supposed to go to Bulma’s (for the first time in two
years.) He nodded his acceptance of
this thought and promised her that he would try very hard not to mess up and be
late again. She just sighed, told him
that he had better not. (Of course she
said this with much less venom and vigor than she normally would have.) And it was left like that.
Which
is why he was hurrying to get there, and realized that he was late all the
same. Thought of what Vegeta would be
like after these two years. Hopefully
he wasn’t still holding a grudge about the whole fusion thing. Because honestly, it had been the only idea
at the time. And it would have worked
if the stubborn Prince hadn’t broken the earring. Not that it really mattered anymore, because in the end they
prevailed, the day was saved and everyone was restored to full life. No harm done.
Yet,
when he touched down outside and smelled the absolutely delicious food that was
being barbequed, he realized that there was no harm done to him. He didn’t really hold onto things otherwise
he would have gone insane years and years ago.
But Vegeta didn’t look particularly pleased to see him. He just chuckled nervously and said: “Hey
guys! It’s been a long time.” Hugged Bulma and listened to her rattle on
about how it has been entirely too long.
They
stood a decent ways away from Vegeta, who was leaning against the house with
his arms crossed over his chest. And
she confided in him that the Prince had been overly preoccupied these past twearsears and he was already hard enough to love, she didn’t need any additional
challenges. He scratched the back of
his head and wondered just what he was supposed to do about it as she pushed
him toward the grumpy one.
She
had to be thinking there was some sort of companionship born of their mutual
heritage, and while Goku liked Vegeta and thought that he was mostly a decent
person; trincrince had worked pretty hard at letting Goku know that just
because they were both Saiyans, they were not friends. If anything, the Prince was the ruler and
Goku should get down on his hands and knees and grovel and effuse about how
great the noble and strong Prince of All Saiyans was.
Which
wasn’t about to happen in this lifetime or any other. No; he didn’t hold onto grudges.
No he didn’t think that just because he won a couple of battles that he
was any better than Vegeta. No he wasn’t
all that concerned with pride, but no, he was not going to fall down to his
knees just to make Vegeta feel better about being stubborn. He was equal to Vegeta. Despite what the other Saiyan said about him
being born third-rate or third-class or whatever. All that mattered was that they were the last two left, and they
needed to preserve what was left of their race.
Which
of course brought about Vegeta’s insistence that Goku waseveneven a true
Saiyan, and the stubborn one rubbed this in everytime he opened his mouth and
said his ‘real’ name in that voice tjustjust oozed with pride. Kakarot, Vegeta called him, and nothing
else. Because Goku had been born
Kakarot and that was all he would ever be to Vegeta.
Which
was fine, because a name was just a name after all. Vegeta could call him tinkerbell all the time and it wouldn’t
make a difference.
“Hey,
‘Geta,” he said.
“Hello
Kakarot.”
mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt'>~~~~~~~~~~****
ACK!!!!!
Gk Its
hopeless with her.
Vegeta: She
should just give in and get it over with.
Gk:
Sigh. How many chapters do yohinkhink it’ll take us to get to the ‘bumping uglies’ part?
Vegeta:
*glances at plot line. * It’s
too early to tell.
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