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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
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(13)

The dials showed 750 times gravity. It was more than Vegeta had ever been able to stand before. He was none to sure that he could stand it now.

He was doing pushups–simple two-handed pushups–and it felt like his back would break. Hm. Interesting problem. What would give first? His back? Or his arms?

Once,he had fought a warrior and he had broken nearly every bone in that warrior’s body.

He pushed himself to his feet, from crouching to standing in several laborious heartbeats. Getting his neck straight was the hardest. 750 G, pulling him down. The sound of his blood roaring in his ears, his eyes blinded by the chaotic light of his own transformation. It was easy not to think. It was hard to stop the thoughts.

Kakarott, breaking under his feet.

Kakarott, kissing him on the mouth.

And Vegeta not stopping him, not angry, not surprised.

He had expected it, hadn’t he? The way Kakarott had tested him, tasted him. Taking every opportunity to get close, to touch him, to sit right next to him and let their shoulders brush together. And those looks – at him.

Vegeta’s feet slowly left the floor. He levitated, and it took all his concentration, all his strength. He was shaking, his breath coming in ragged draws. Light flashed in front of his eyes. He felt it now, the limit. The line to cross.

Vegeta wondered if he would survive a fall. Probably yes, if he controlled it. He was strong.

No he wasn’t.

Kakarott had asked him a question every time he brushed up against him, every time he looked at him like that. And Vegeta, he had refused them both an answer.

Because he was scared.

No he wasn’t.

Because when he had been going to kill that mouse that time in the restaurant,Kakarott had slapped his hand away and stopped him. And Vegeta had let him. Yes. It was like that.

Because he wasn’t fighting. It was too late for that. Too late. What power Kakarott had over him now because Vegeta didn’t fight. Didn’t want to. He had allowed Kakarott – the sneak – to get too close. To build his little houses all over Vegeta’s territory.

He had… given up.

No.

Kakarott had slapped his hand away and Vegeta had just sat there, not fighting, not knowing what to do, without the fight. Weak, without the fight.

(“I want you, Kakarott.”)

He did, but he was. Fucking weak.

He felt it, like a tear in his gut, when he was wrenched out of his Super Saiyan transformation and the floor came rushing up to meet him. Fighting it, and he felt that limit slide within him (yes) and bam! landing on his feet with bended knees. He caught some of the fall on his hands and he was down, curled up on the floor when he knew that nothing was broken, just jarred. His head was aching and he could not –could not – get up off the floor.

“Gravity… off.”

Speaking was difficult, his voice so low he didn’t think the sensors could hear him. Then suddenly it was gone, all that pressure bearing down on him.

Stillness. Silence. He raised his head. His heart was beating fast and the only testimony that the room wasn’t spinning was his hands against the floor. Stupid, stupid. He hadn’t listened to the warnings, hadn’t realized how quickly his power was draining. Good thing Bulma had put those voice activated sensors in. He closed his eyes and took slow breaths, waiting for his body to recover. It didn’t take long. Like pieces in a puzzle his functions were snapping back into their proper place. His head ached and then – snap – it didn’t. The last thing to come back was his sense of balance. He sat up, leaning on his hands. The muscles in his arms were trembling. Back to normal, but exhausted.

“Stupid.” A low whisper.

Yet he was smirking in silent triumph, remembering how he had fought against the fall and felt a burst of power beyond his limits. Fear, justified fear, had allowed him that one step further. And yes, not too long ago he had been dead, and now he lived again. He could afford to feel triumphal over the small steps forward.

After all, in ten or twenty years 750 G might seem like nothing.

He was yanked out of his thoughts when he heard Bulma’s voice over the speakers. She must have been waiting for him to turn off the gravity.

“Hey, Vegeta. Can I come in?”

“Yes. Come in.”

Vegeta stood up to greet her, pleased to note that he didn’t stagger. It took a lot of control though, not to give in to exhaustion.

Bulma came in, a small smile on her face. She stepped onto the thick armored floor cautiously, almost like she wasn’t sure that she was invited. She was dressed in a white coverall with oil-stains on the knees. A small towel dangled from her hand.

“You’re training late.”

“And you’re working late.”

“Here.” She handed him the towel.

“Thanks.” He wiped his face and swung the towel to hang over his shoulders. Felt faintly amused at her surprised look. Yes, he knew how to say thank you. It had been easy, matter of fact.

He waited for Bulma to say something, but she just stood there, looking at him. He raised him eyebrows and she smiled.

“How much is it now?” She asked, the words full of memories.

There was a time, when he was new on Earth and closer to killing anyone who spoke to him or looked him than they ever knew, when that question had been the only thing he cared about. The only question he cared to answer. How much is it now? How far, Vegeta? How far have you come?

How far?

“Seven-thirty,” he stated, not taking credit for something he didn’t completely master.

“Wow, Vegeta.” She sounded genuinely impressed, even as she continued in the pattern of their old exchange.

“So,” Vegeta started, when she didn’t say anything for a while. It wasn’t like Bulma to hesitate, to be so silent. He could tell that she had something on her mind. “How goes the inventing?”

“Inventing… goes fine.”

He nodded.

“Ah…” Bulma looked to the side. She put her hands in her pockets and spun back to face him. “I never told Trunks,” she said. “I never told him that we had broken up.”

“You didn’t?” He wasn’t sure how to take that.

“Did you tell him?”

“No.”

“Good,” Bulma said. “That’s good. It would only hurt him. Especially now when…” She gave him a long thoughtful look and smiled, shaking her head in wonderment. “You’ve done everything I’ve always wanted, haven’t you? And none of it is because I asked.”

He frowned, uncomfortable. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Sure you do.” She stepped right in front of him. “The birthday present, the time you spend with Trunks…” She raised one finger, pointing at him. “You, Vegeta, act like a man who cares about his family.”

“I always… did that.” He edged backward, filled with a strong urge to get out of this conversation.

Bulma just shook her head. She didn’t look angry though.

Vegeta thought about it. He’d cared, hadn’t he, about Bulma and Trunks? Had fought for them. It was just…

(“I wanted to go back to the way I was before!”)

Well, there was that.

“How about,” Bulma took a deep breath. “How about we don’t tell Trunks?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t tell Trunks.” Bulma waved her hands in the air, visible flustered. “We’re his parents, of course he wants us to be together. Of course he wants you as his father. I know I said… all kinds of things, but Vegeta, I had to break up with you, had to. Now…” She stepped closer, reached out like she wanted to touch him. “Now I don’t have to do anything anymore.”

Vegeta backed away and Bulma blinked, letting her hands fall down along her sides.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“What for?” He frowned.

“I… I don’t know. Vegeta, let’s be a family, for real this time.”

“It’s already real.”

“Oh, whatever.” Unexpectedly, Bulma gave him a shove and he almost toppled over. “Let’s just say we’re back together again, ok?”

Vegeta blinked, staring at her. At Bulma. She had lost her uncertainty. He opened his mouth. Closed it again.

“I need to think about it,” he finally said.

Bulma smiled, nodding as if they were on the exact same page. As if they both knew that this was his way of going along with what she said. She looked… happy. Excited.

“I’ll go, leave you to take a shower.” Another quick grin, over her shoulder. “Talk to you later.” He watched her leave. Her hair swung with every step. The door closed behind her.

He should be angry at her. For her assumptions, for her bossiness, for her… He should be angry, but how could he, when all she had done was to choose him.Twice.
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- 14
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As Loyalty Can Be