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As Loyalty Can Be	By : Kimmy Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 6353 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
(11)

Vegeta was nervous.

Nervous.

Trunks was opening his presents, paper flying everywhere. Happy shrieks from the children blended into the more sedate murmur of the adults. The growing pile of opened presents was placed to the side. Trophies for Trunks, boxes with colourful designs and flashy writing.

Bulma had been planning for days, making the Capsule garden into “a perfect playground” for Trunks and his classmates. Carousels jingled around, making happy music, and the trees were filled with little houses, connected to each other with a maze of ropes and ladders. Apparently the food was being served in some new and novel way. Vegeta didn’t really care, all his attention was focused on what appeared to be the highlight of the party: the opening of the presents.

Next to the others his own present to Trunks was plain. Easy to overlook. Vegeta found himself wishing that it would be overlooked. He had envisioned giving it to Trunks, but he had not envisioned all those people, the shrieking children cheering Trunks on, making him just as excited as they were. Bulma’s friends – and Kakarott – were standing to the side with some of the children’s parents, watching everything. Vegeta’s present was wrapped in plain blue paper, wrapped over and over since he hadn’t bothered with scissors. No bow, no card. The other presents had cards.

What if Trunks didn’t like it?

Whatif Trunks didn’t like it? Vegeta mentally slapped himself. He was being silly. Nervous and silly. It was strange. It was… different. And enlightening.

Just one present left now. Trunks picked it up and turned it over. “Who’s it from?” Trunks asked, looking puzzled.

“Me,” Vegeta said.

The children seemed to pick something up of Trunks, some mood, because they shut their mouths and backed away, giving Trunks his space. The boy opened the present slowly, hardly tearing the paper at all. He shot short glances at Vegeta, glances that made Vegeta feel that it probably didn’t matter if Trunks liked the present or not. It was the gift-giving that signified. Seemed Bulma had been right all those times.

Vegeta glanced at Bulma and found her beaming at him. Vegeta gave her a slight nod and her smile turned soft, just for him.

“Cool.” Trunks was holding his gift, a large curved knife in his hands. Vegeta had haggled for it in a small human store, a tent close to a desert. The knife was old and unadorned, but Vegeta had liked the thick blade, the curve of it, making the knife feel heavy and powerful. Not very useful maybe, but still an object of some worth. It seemed like Trunks could feel it too, judging by his laughter and the way he was swinging it around.

“Um… Vegeta?”

Bulma was standing right next to him now, frowning and looking like she was trying to choose her words carefully. Vegeta found that he already knew what she had on her mind.

“Trunks!” No need to make her say it.

“Yes, dad?”

“Give it here.”

Vegeta held out his hand. Trunks lowered the knife, and slowly walked up to place it hilt first in Vegeta’s outreached palm. His eyes were large and disappointed.

“We’ll keep it in the Gravity Room.” Vegeta said. “It’s not a toy, and it isn’t proper to play with it in front of other children.” Trunks frowned at him, and Vegeta reached out to give his hair a brief ruffle. “I’ll show you how to use it, next time we train.” And Trunks face transformed into happiness.

“You handled that well,” Bulma said, as the flock of children started to scatter. She sounded surprised.

Vegeta looked at her and raised an eyebrow. She raised her own eyebrow, his mirror, and whispered, “Can’t say I loved seeing him with it, but I guess it’s alright. Not like he isn’t just as dangerous without it.” She smirked, and poked him in the side with her elbow. “But hey, he really liked his present.”

Vegeta nodded. It did seem like it. He looked at Trunks, who was facing Goten, stabbing with his hand, imagining a knife, and Goten parrying, an invisible knife of his own. Both laughing.

“So you’re going to train him again?”

“Yes. And about time too.” Vegeta suspected Trunks was happier about that than the gift. It made him aware of how long it had been since he and Trunks had trained together. “I have been selfish,” Vegeta muttered, mostly to himself, and he was amused when Bulma’s mouth fell open.

He had surprised her, as he had surprised her with the present. And not only her. Vegeta glanced behind him, and Krillin and Yamcha fell silent under his gaze. They didn’t look unfriendly though, they looked… surprised. Krillin took a few tentative steps closer.

“Cool knife,” Krillin said. “Is it some kind of Saiyan relic?”

“Made and bought on Earth,” Vegeta said, oddly flattered that the short fighter would assume that he had Saiyan relics in his possession.

Krillin held out his hand and Vegeta offered him the knife, handle first. Yamcha walked in for a closer look. After moments of consideration, Yamcha lifted his gaze and gave Vegeta a casual nod, as if saying, “not bad”.

It was strange, Vegeta thought, to stand there surrounded by the humans and having them look at him with approval. He hadn’t even fought for it – all he’d done was to follow one of their customs. And he’d made Trunks happy. He supposed that counted for a lot.

Kakarott had never bought a birthday present for his son. Vegeta looked to the left, behind Bulma, where the other Saiyan was standing. Kakarott looked grave. There was a stillness about him, but it was a stillness that seemed to hide something. He sees it too, Vegeta thought.

In this particular topic, Kakarott, I have bested you.

---

Krillin left with Yamcha, and Goku watched Vegeta cross his arms, Trunk’s birthday present held loosely in his hand. He could tell that Vegeta was pleased about something. He had shoot Goku a look of triumph, but Goku was sure that it had very little to do with him. No, Vegeta had done something, something more than just stand there while Trunks opened his gift. Whatever it was, it had made Vegeta calm and content in a way that Goku hadn’t seen before. Goku watched him talk to Bulma, watched him smile. Watched him.

He’d been thinking about kissing Vegeta.

He would be at home, eating, or sitting in the sun doing nothing. Might lie in bed, not sleeping, and the thought would come to him that he’d rather be kissing Vegeta.

Watching him smile like this, it was hard to look away. Goku felt his eyes darting over Vegeta, his face and his body, committing every part of him to his memory, the way he was now. This was how Vegeta should be when they were alone. This ease. He wanted Vegeta right up close, smiling like this.

“Goku!”

Goku blinked at Bulma. She was waving him closer, her slim fingers making beckoning motions.

“So,” she smiled when Goku came up to her. “Did you like the tables? I know it’s not terrible practical, but I still think the idea could work. It only needs some… work.”

Goku hadn’t noticed any tables, but he looked over at the large buffet underneath the trees and saw the round discs that some of the people was pushing in front of them as they steered between the dishes. It looked like large trays, except they were floating in the air. He watched a man sitting down, the floating tray in front of him. Heard the “oh!” as the tray was bumped by another guest and a glass turned over.

“I understand what you mean,” Goku said, and looked away. He didn’t seem able to summon up any enthusiasm over the floating table invention.

Vegeta looked thoughtful and – and benign. Like someone who wasn’t angry at all. It was remarkably.

“Are you alright?” Bulma asked, touching Goku’s shoulder.

“Yes, it’s just – I’m hungry.” Maybe he was.

Goku had fully intended to walk over to the buffet, but he changed his direction and turned to a more secluded part of the garden. He sat down, cross-legged, where the grass was high, and leaned his elbows on his knees. He felt lost, like he had somehow walked into a dead end, but he couldn’t see the road, and couldn’t see what was blocking it. Couldn’t see, he thought, and leaned his brow on his fists. His eyes were tightly closed.

“Goku?”

Goku opened he eyes, disoriented – momentarily – by the difference between this, the real world, and the one behind his eyelids. Krillin was standing on the green grass, bright red clothes, ruffled hair, a concerned look on his face. One of his fingers were lightly perched on a floating table, where two Sundae ice creams stood, laced with chocolate sauce and two cherries on top.

“Are you alright?” Krillin sounded hesitant, like it was unthinkable that he wouldn’t be. “Does your head hurt?”

“Maybe a little.” Goku straightened, and raked his fingers through his hair.

“It looked like a killer headache.” Krillin seemed worried. Alarmed. “Did you take a really big hit recently?”

“No,” Goku said. “It’s not that. My head is fine.” He smiled, thinking about all the times he’d taken a hit to his head. “When is it not?”

“What’s the matter then?” Krillin sat down in front of him and pulled the table down between them. He pushed one of the Sundaes closer to Goku.

Goku didn’t answer right away. He picked up a spoon and fiddled with it. Pressed the cool metal against his lips. He should talk to Krillin. Krillin had always been more knowledgably than him about… about a lot of things. And, Goku thought, he just wanted to talk. Wanted Krillin to know what he was thinking. Problem was he didn’t know what to say, or how to say it. He finally settled on a phrase he had never uttered before.

“I’m in love.”

Goku scooped up a big spoonful of ice cream and chocolate sauce. Put it in his mouth and swallowed, hardly tasting it. In love. It meant something significant, he knew, but he didn’t like it. Didn’t like the words. They didn’t fit the way he was feeling – no words fit the way he was feeling, but when he said it, I’m in love, he felt his feelings change. Define. The words defined his thoughts and his feelings. He didn’t like it.

“In love?” Krillin blinked several times. “With… with Chichi, right?”

“No, not Chichi.” Goku froze at what he had promptly admitted. Not Chichi. It echoed within him: not Chichi. It was the words, the way they excluded. Maybe talking about it had been a bad idea.

“You met someone else?” Krillin’s voice was very kind. He leaned closer over the table.

“No,” Goku murmured. “I’ve known him for a long time.”

“It’s a… a him?” A whisper.

“Yes, and I’m not sure if it’s love, it’s just every time I see him I feel…” Goku glanced at Krillin, seeking guidance. “I feel… that I love him.” He couldn’t stop sayinglove.

Krillin laughed, a short nervous laugh. He backed away, where he sat. “You mean to say you love him like a friend, right. Right, Goku?”

“Yes,” Goku said. “He’s my friend. I want to kiss him.”

Krillin blushed. “Whoa!” He backed away further, and waved his hands in the space between them. “You can’t kiss him, he’s already taken!”

“No, he’s not.” Goku frowned. “Bulma broke up with him.”

“Oh.” Krillin brought his palms to his face. “Oh! You’re talking about Vegeta.”

“Yes,” Goku said. “Vegeta.”

“Oh. That’s…” Krillin stared. ”Vegeta?” He took a deep breath. “You and Vegeta?”

“Yes.” Goku turned the spoon over in his fingers. Right way. Upside down. Right way. Upside down. He looked at Krillin. “You thought I meant you, didn’t you?”

“A little bit, yes.” Krillin waved his hand. “But never mind that. This is crazy! This is you. Goku! And you can’t! That is… give me a minute.”

Krillin bowed down, leaning his forehead on his hands – his fists, much as Goku had done, and it did look like his head was hurting. Goku felt sorry, for worrying him so.

“Hey,” Krillin said, his head still bowed. “You’re not kidding with me, are you?”

“No,” Goku said. A rueful smile that Krillin didn’t see.

“Didn’t think so.”

Krillin was thinking, and Goku was waiting for what he had to say. Except he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it. Because it was easier without the words.

Krillin raised his head. “Goku,” he said. And his voice was gentle. Careful. “You do see the problem here? This is a real, serious problem.”

“I know.” Goku frowned. “You don’t have to explain it to me.” Words. They made things wrong. Made them not fit.

“Have you and Vegeta actually…” Krillin made a vague gesture.

“What?” Goku knew what he meant. He asked anyway.

“Had sex. Have you been sleeping together?”

“No.” Goku shook his head. “I don’t know if Vegeta want to do that with me.”

“Okay.” Krillin took a deep, quick breath. “Goku, listen – listen.” He leaned closer, beseeching. “Don’t. Just… it’s a bad idea. I know it’s none of my business, but… Don’t.”

A sullen stare. Goku knew he looked sullen.

“You have Chichi and Gohan and Goten. And Vegeta has… has Trunks.”

Krillin paused because he didn’t say Bulma. But Vegeta still had Bulma, didn’t he? And being with Vegeta didn’t have to mean that he would lose Gohan and Goten, or even Chichi. Did it?

Goku’s head hurt.

“And listen…” Krillin brought his palms together, like he was praying. “Vegeta doesn’t even like you. He’s always had this thing – this thing about wanting to kill you, remember?”

“He does not! Maybe once, but that was a long time ago. Let it go, Krillin!”

Yes, and that was shouting. He was shouting at Krillin. Had he ever done that before? Ever?

“Goku…”

“I’m not happy with Chichi.”

He didn’t know he was going to say that. He had never wanted to say that.

There was silence. Goku looked down. The table between them moved as Krillin pushed it aside, and reached over to touch his arm. A warm touch on his arm.

“Goku… I’m sorry.”

Goku nodded.

“And I’m sorry about Vegeta. I shouldn’t have said that. People change, I know that. I’ve seen Vegeta change.”

Goku shrugged. “Maybe. He’s still Vegeta.”

”Yeah.” Krillin took his hand from Goku’s arm. “Goku…” He hesitated, took a deep breath. ”What do you want?”

“I want Vegeta.”

Finally he felt the road clear. He could see ahead. He wanted Vegeta. Want. That was right, a good word. It fit.

Goku looked at Krillin and grinned.

Krillin groaned, and leaned his forehead on his hands.
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As Loyalty Can Be