Anticipation

Disclaimer: I don’t own DB/Z/GT or any of the characters found in this fic. They are the property of TOEI ANIMATION in Japan and FUNimation in the U.S.A. I am making no profit from this work of fanfiction.

A/N- Once again a huge thank you goes out to Pixelgoddess for taking the time to beta this. By candlelight, on a battery run laptop. ::bows:: THANK YOU!!! (Good luck with finding those keys, and I hope your power is turned back on soon.)

A/N # 2- I didn’t plan on having a chapter 2 to this. My muses seem to be highly entertained by this idea though. So… you can blame them. I have no idea of they are done with this now, or if something may pop up in the future.

Rating- R
Warnings- Hentai, lemon, PWP, OOC, M/F
Pairings- Gh/Vi, GxVi

Chapter 2- ‘Assumption’

Bits and pieces just weren’t fitting.

After my nonconsensual one-night stand with my father-in-law, I should have been as skittish as an unwanted puppy around the house. After all, my husband’s parents were our closest neighbors: the next nearest were miles away with nothing but farmland and forests between.

I should have been finding ways of staying out of his presence, shouldn’t I? Keeping my distance, being wary, possibly even paranoid; but I didn’t and wasn’t. I guess a part of me wanted to know if what had happened was real, and if it was, would he try it again? Or had it just been an opportunity he saw and took?

Gohan had been extremely apologetic the next morning when I had found him passed out on the couch, which explained where he had been while his father was having his hedonistic way with me.

Had I done something to invite Goku to take advantage of such a situation that evening?

And there were certainly moments when I felt almost… hopeful he would do it again. Which would turn into guilt almost immediately. I was happy and in love with Gohan. Why would I want something more?

My confusion, when I couldn’t actually forget it, made me want to groan. Not only was I uncertain of what had happened; I was uncertain of how I should feel about it.

After a couple of days, and Goku gave up no clues as to what his thinking had been, I began to wonder how drunk I had really been after Bulma’s party. It couldn’t have really happened, I told myself at least a hundred times. I truly started to believe it was just some twisted fantasy. I never knew I had such a vivid imagination though.

Of course, after what had occurred, I was reticent around Gohan. I didn’t make the advances I usually did: my guilt over having possible feelings for his father making me afraid I would do or say something stupid. The one-night stand wasn’t something I was willing to give my family up for or hurt Chichi over.

My husband didn’t even seem to take note of the difference. So, the nagging little voice in my head led me to believe whatever had happened that night, it hadn’t been my husband either.

Life on Mt. Pauozu went on as normal. My husband would go to work, taking our daughter to her school on the way. Chichi would cook meals and I would do laundry. (Unless it was a bread-making day.) Goku would either be doing chores or off training Uub. If I didn’t know better, I would think nothing had changed.

Really, nothing had, but my awareness of the people I was in closest contact with most of my days did.

I began to notice how the birds would go quiet when Goku would first come back. They knew of his presence before I did. Then, after nothing seemed to go awry, they’d start their chorus again.

A week passed. Goku and I had several interactions with no one else around, but it was just friendly chatter and an exchange of hellos. There was no evidence on his part he was going to go in search of a blindfold or silk ropes.

Wednesday night dinner was at my husband’s parents’ house. Chichi had made spaghetti, and it was wonderful as all her cooking was. The lady was amazing with both home fare and foreign foods. Of course, she had to learn along the way. I wasn’t so surprised at my ability to fit the role of housewife; Chichi had been a princess before she had become domesticated. If she could be happy looking after a brood of sayians, so could I. Of course, neither Chichi nor I thought of it as domestication really: who could think of living with a bunch of aliens as ‘domesticated’?

I’d much rather live the peaceful life out in the country rather than have to worry about the unwanted attention generated as my father’s daughter while living in the city.

I was happy listening to Pan chatter excitedly about her day at school. I reached for another helping of garlic bread. My daughter’s hands gestured wildly, and she knocked a pitcher of water straight in to the front of me.

“Oh Mom, I am sooo sorry,” my daughter cried out.

“It’s alright honey,” I said as I used a cloth napkin to try to clean up the mess; at least it hadn’t been my plate of spaghetti all over my white shirt.

Chichi got up from the table to grab a dishrag to help mop some of the liquid up. “Are you okay?” my husband asked, picking the pitcher up from my lap.

“I’m just fine. I’m not made out of sugar. Water’s not going to do me any harm,” I replied, smiling up at Gohan, thankful he had cared enough to ask.

As I took the dishrag from Chichi’s hand to start to wipe the water from my lap, I caught Goku’s gaze. I followed it to where the water had plastered my T-shirt to my chest, my silver-laced bra being quite noticeable.

I felt a blush creep into my cheeks, and I turned my face downward to focus on the task of cleaning water out of my lap. There wasn’t much I could do besides pluck the wet material away from my skin.

I finally realized, this wasn’t the first time he had looked at me like that, and now I saw what I hadn’t recognized in those gazes before. I shivered, and it had nothing to do with my wet clothing. Other than predatory, those looks were hungry, and not for anything ‘on’ the table.

I couldn’t believe I was the only one noticing his gaze or what it meant. I guessed everyone was too concerned for my well being over a little spilt water to study the look he was giving me the way I had. Plus, they didn’t have anything to compare it too, or look out for.

I handed the dishrag back to Chichi (my hand shook a little as I handed it over), and she took it to the sink for temporary placement. Then the regular sounds of dinner proceeded. Pan continued with her story, but with a little less hand gesturing.

Truthfully, I can’t remember the story my daughter was telling. The one gaze I had caught from my father-in-law rattled me that much. I had almost given up on there being any sort of confirmation something had happened between us, and then, a week and a half later, there was the evidence I had been both anticipating and dreading.

I started to help Chichi clear the table, in order to keep a feeling of ‘normal’ about the evening, but she’d hear nothing of the sort, “You go home and get out of those wet clothes. I’ll be fine here. I can clean up after one meal by myself,” my mother-in-law insisted.

“I can help you Chichi,” Goku spoke up.

Chichi looked at Goku and blushed, “Thank you dear. I didn’t even think to ask.”

With that settled, Pan gave her grandparents a goodnight hug each, and the three of us left for our home a couple of steps away from Gohan’s parents’ front door.

Immediately upon entry to our house, Pan asked excitedly, “Can I watch Razan?”

I smiled at her, and was about to tell her yes, but Gohan beat me to the punch, “I am sorry honey, but I have to be to work earlier than usual, which means, it’s actually bed time.”

My daughter started to pout. “We’ve already set the VCR to record the show so you can watch it tomorrow when you get home after school.” I said, trying to cheer her up. This brightened her mood considerably, and I was granted a hug despite my wet clothing.

“Alright Mom. Good night,” she said. She gave Gohan a hug also, and went her way to her bedroom.

“Well, I am going to get out of these wet clothes,” I told my husband, as I headed for our bedroom.

I didn’t expect the arms that wrapped around my middle, or the warm kiss at the nape of my neck, “How about if I help you?”

I am sure my husband could feel the shiver that ran through my body at his unusually bold words.

I can only blame the words that next came out of my mouth on my confusion of the last week and a half, “I thought you had to work early?”

I felt a nudge just behind my ear and then a gentle nip on the lobe itself, “I lied. Well, just a little; I do have to be in early. Just not as early as this bedtime would normally mean.”

I turned in his arms and kissed him passionately: my confusion and tension having finally found an outlet. He actually moaned into the kiss. I broke away, and grabbed both of his arms, dragging him towards our bedroom while I walked backwards. Once we were past the threshold, Gohan closed the door to our bedroom without even looking at the door. I stretched up and kissed him again, “I want you badly,” I admitted out loud, but a little part of me knew it wasn’t just the sex I wanted so badly. I was trying to put our relationship back in order, even if my husband never knew it had been so close to chaos only moments before.

I could see a slight movement of his lips, a start of a smirk, before he said, “Good.”

I looked directly into his eyes only to see a similar look to the one his father had given me less than an hour before. I shivered. I hadn’t seen this side of Gohan since a couple of months after the whole Majin Buu catastrophe had happened. This was the man I had fallen in love with and married. Where had he been? It had almost seemed as though, when we had hung up our super hero capes for good, this part of him had disappeared.

I wasn’t sure what the answer was, but I was happy he was back, and I planned on taking full advantage of this occurrence. We spent the night doing exactly that. He was so energetic and impromptu about what we were doing; I couldn’t even begin to guess what his twisted mind was going to come up with next. I knew there was a perverted country boy in there somewhere. Now I had to figure out what had caused him to come out of the closet.

It was so difficult to get up in the morning when the alarm went off. I was cozy, tired and sated.

Stupid breakfast anyway.

Of course, the demi-sayians that were my family wouldn’t understand my way of thinking when their stomachs started growling.

I groaned as the snooze went off, and tagged the button again for Gohan before I tumbled out of bed.

I staggered into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from my eyes. I turned the heat to low on the griddle Chichi had given me as a Christmas gift. It really was very thoughtful of her, and I was grateful for it. Had I still been living in the city, I may have been offended having received such a gift, but out here, in the country, it was practical, and I was learning the value of practical.

I turned the oven on, and then turned to the coffee maker. Sometimes I thought I should build a shrine to this little device. Thankfully, Gohan stirred clear of the caffeine and Pan was too young to let her drink it. I can’t imagine what a sayian on caffeine would be like.

The smell of bacon was usually all it took to get Pan out of bed. This morning she came into the kitchen rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. I handed her a batch of toast with apple butter already applied, “Here you go honey,” I said. She smiled sleepily at me at took the small plate from my hands and headed back to her room. It was just a small offering that would tide her over as she took a shower and I finished breakfast.

I heard bare feet on the hardwood floor, and turned to see my husband grabbing a glass out of the cupboard. He went to the fridge and poured himself some O.J. I let my eyes roam as he drank the glass down. His hair was still wet from the shower, and he only had a towel on around his waist. MMmmmmm. I couldn’t help the smile that came on my face at that thought. He had been rather outstanding last night. I wondered if his walking into the kitchen half naked was still a part of the ‘new’ man he had portrayed last night. I smirked as I took a sip from my coffee mug. I certainly hoped it was.

“Eeeeeeewwwww, Dad! Put some clothes on,” Pan complained as she walked back into the kitchen, changed out of P.J.’s and into school clothes.

Gohan smiled and set his glass down. I just smiled and shook my head, putting more toast in the toaster.

Gohan tousled our daughter’s hair as he passed her on his way back to our bedroom to follow her orders. I filled his glass and set it back on the table, grabbed another one from the cupboard, filled it and placed it at Pan’s place at the table.

I set the jar of apple butter on the table, and turned back to get Pan’s plate filled. I set it down in front of her, and started pilling fried eggs and bacon on my husband’s plate.

“Thank you honey,” he said as he came back into the kitchen, fully dressed this time (minus his shoes), and kissed me lightly on the cheek before he took his place at the table also.

My husband’s manners reminded my daughter of her own, “Thank you Mom,” Pan said.

“You are both very welcome,” I told them. I grabbed my cup of coffee and sat down at the table while they ate. They were both used to me not eating first thing in the morning even if they didn’t understand it.

I sat quietly as I watched and listened to them eat. It was an amazing process, really. Anyone fully human would have surely choked.

Pan got up from the table and delivered her dishes to the sink before heading towards her bedroom. Gohan finished shortly after, and followed the same routine our daughter had.

Pan came back out with her backpack on. When Gohan came back into the kitchen, he had on a suit jacket, a briefcase in hand and shoes on his feet.

I walked them both to the door. “You two have a good day,” I said. I hugged Pan and kissed Gohan goodbye.

I watched them as they blasted off, and then closed the door and walked back to the kitchen to start cleaning up the breakfast mess.

I poured myself another cup of coffee as I contemplated said mess. It took a lot of energy to keep up with my family. Mundane things such as chores and work replaced the days Gohan and I had played super heroes. I was thankful the city had found a new protector and hero in Buu; there was no way I’d be able to do both.

Just as I was placing the last glass in the dishwasher, I heard a knock at my door. I grabbed a dishrag and wiped my hands dry as I went to answer it.

Chichi was standing on my porch when I opened it. “Hi Videl. I need to go to the city: to the grocery store. Goku’s going to be chopping wood today. Will you please keep an eye on him, and make sure he drinks enough water?”

“Sure, no problem,” I told her. She gave me a grateful smile and turned towards her hover car.

That’s the one thing I have done for Chichi, I taught her how to drive. At first I thought it would be a good thing if she could fly, but after a couple of days and no success, we both non-verbally agreed this was the next best thing. She was a fighter, but she just couldn’t seem to master the skills needed to manipulate ki. Even so, the two of us would still spar on occasion when chores were done and we had a bit of time to ourselves.

I finished up in the kitchen and decided to get dressed in a simple T-shirt and a pair of loose jeans before starting the laundry. I took the last wet load from the day before out of the washer, placed in a basket, and started the next wash cycle.

I slipped on my flip-flops as I headed outside with the wet load, to hang it up on the line. Then I pulled down the dry clothes from the line to take them inside to fold. I had gotten used to this. With the five of us living so close together, I did the laundry, and Chichi would make dinner. Breakfast may have been large, but it was nothing in comparison to what Chichi had to make for dinner in order to keep our sayians sleeping through the night.

By my fourth cycle of laundry, I decided to take a pitcher of water out to Goku. It was amazing the amount of firewood he could have chopped up in a couple of hours, but we used a lot of it out here. For heat in the winter, to warm the water in the barrel when anyone wanted a hot soak, and for the bread oven Chichi had had made. Rice certainly wouldn’t keep those tummies full.

He also chopped enough of it to sell to some of our closest neighbors. Our neighbors were happy enough at not having to do the task themselves, and paid a pretty good price (if not outrageous) for the chopped wood. On top of the money he made for chopping wood, come springtime Goku made a pretty good sum when the farmers wanted their fields tilled. It was the same in the fall, when the farmers need their fields purged and tilled again. I hadn’t gotten the whole story, but I do remember something about how a part of his training with Master Roshi had he and Krillin tilling up fields for farmers.

I filled a pitcher with water from my kitchen facet, added some ice cubes, and headed outside towards the back of the house. The noise my flip-flops made as they thwacked against my feet was soon accompanied by the sound of splitting wood. Sometimes Goku would use ki to chop the wood, but usually, he lowered his ki and used the chore for its physical benefits instead.

I rounded the corner of my house, and stopped, my eyes going a little wide. Goku usually wore his weighted tops when he was doing mundane chores, but today, for whatever reason, he had gone without.

I finally realized I had stalled. I started walking again, but slower. Suddenly the sound of my flip-flops announcing my presence onto the scene seemed overly loud.

“Goku, are you thirsty? Chichi said I should make sure you drank water today,” I said and held out the pitcher.

He stopped his motions and turned to face me. He smiled, “Thank you Videl,” he said as he took the pitcher from my grasp. I thought it was good he hadn’t seemed to notice my hesitation.

What I could see of his upper body was covered in a fine sheet of sweat. Not enough to have started trickling down his chest yet, but enough to cause the sunlight to glow faintly off of his skin. When I found myself gazing at him in much the same fashion as I had Gohan earlier that morning, I turned my eyes away.

I was expecting him to hand the pitcher back to me once he was done, but instead he turned to set it down on the chopping block. As he turned, he said something to me: words I didn’t quite understand, because they seemed so out of place, “It’s not nice to tease the animals, Videl.”

“W-what?”

He turned back to me and grabbed my arm, pulling me to him, “We tend to turn savage come feeding time.”

He grabbed the hand that I had brought up to push against him with. I gasped as he twisted this arm behind my back at a painful angle. My unguarded mouth was devoured by a kiss that was as fierce as he had just warned he would be. I tried to make protesting sounds, but they just sounded like moans to my own ears.

My options, had I chosen them, had been taken from me. I couldn’t fight and I couldn’t run. He was over-bearing in a way I had never known he could be.

And I liked it. Any words I may have said in objection to our actions were stilled by this one thought. I craved something in the way Goku was behaving. This didn’t seem to be for me, but it certainly was all about me. What did I have that Chichi couldn’t give him? I didn’t have a clue. There must be something though, for him to come to satisfy himself with me a second time. Right?

Even as I tried to parallel or engage him, he seemed to be two steps ahead of me. Our breaths were harsh and ragged, and even though he hadn’t bitten me, I could taste the blood that had been caused to flow from his force on my mouth, causing my teeth to cut into my own lips.

Just as I was certain I was going to cry out in pain (despite of his how his mouth on mine would have muffled it) he pulled away. I watched through hooded eyes as a greedy smirk crossed his features. My blood had colored his teeth, and he licked it away like a delicacy as he freed my arm.

I trembled at his display. It touched something in me that wanted to be just as feral as he was exhibiting. My hands reached around his back, and I ran my fingernails, not so gently, up his spine, and was rewarded by a shiver on his part before his fingers were unfastening my jeans hurriedly.

As the material around my waist loosened I felt his warm, callused hands slip between the silk of my panties and buttocks. I bit lightly at his pectorals as he gave my ass a squeeze and pulled me closer.

I had one quick nip at his neck as he descended, his hold forcing my jeans and undergarment around my ankles as he moved to his knees. I stepped out of the pooled garments, leaving my flip-flops behind, and he swept them aside with one hand.

My hips and lower tummy were assaulted with the same force my lips had been a few moments before. My navel was treated like a sacred place with his tongue. It danced burningly around the fringes before entering fleetingly, leaving only sensation behind, which I appreciated with eyes closed.

If I couldn’t see it, was it real? If it was real, why did I still want this? (If no one but the two of us knew, was it really hurting anyone?)

My fingers clutched repeatedly in his hair, as though not even my hands knew if I wished escape or imprisonment. There were so many people who would be disillusioned if either of us ever said anything about this. This was something so unlike either of us that if I told someone, they’d think I was insane.

His hands trailed up the back of my legs, engaging goose bumps along the way, causing my knees to buckle. Preventing my collapse, he grabbed at my hips and stood, pressing me against his body once again. I could feel his excitement in the form of a fiery bulge crushed against my stomach.

I wanted it, that fire I felt against my skin. I had fire in my relationship with my husband, something that would keep me warm and cozy on a winter’s night. What Goku and I were doing was comparable to a bonfire, outside, on the same winter night.

I started untying the knot of his gi belt in a frenzy, trying to expose the blaze. His pants had barely fallen past his erection before he reached down further and was drawing me up, my thighs level with his hips.

I kissed and bit at his neck as I felt him push up inside of me, the inferno I had sought igniting me. I cried out and wrapped my arms around his neck, hanging on for dear life as he all but tore into me. I twisted my ankles together behind his back as he shifted me effortlessly to stoke his conflagration with my flesh.

I whimpered at my helplessness at the same time I was fascinated by his control.

Before this, I had always thought sex was good if it was fun. Fun would never be likened to the sweeping experience this was. Fun was a by-product, not the result.

As intensely as he was burning it didn’t come as a surprise when he climaxed. He gave a terrifying roar as he drove into me with one last push. I clung tightly to him, using his body as a shield, even though we were the storm.

Time was counted by our pants as he held me still. I quaked a little with regret, thinking this stage of our affair was over. Even though I had submitted, I could walk away from his selfishness with less guilt. Although it had been good, I hadn’t enjoyed it like I had the last time, when I had been unaware of the circumstances.

How wrong I was to judge him so quickly. He wasn’t about to let me walk away from this unscathed.

Once again he dropped to his knees, still embracing me with his arms. I was set away from him and forced to stand on my own feet or fall over. I chose to stand thinking his actions were his way of telling me we were done.

Instead, his arms slid away from my sides, down my hips, wound their way through my inner thighs, and then I was lifted, my legs perching on his shoulders.

I gripped his locks just for balance, and then his mouth was feasting upon my folds. The scream I emitted was from shock, but not disappointment.

“Aaaaaa…” …Anything but disappointment.

I felt my hips bucking towards his head, and I let them do so shamelessly. I felt a growl come from him, the vibrations penetrating my body in a hedonistic way. I cried out again and again until I was hoarse and I finally climaxed breathlessly, my arms pulling me towards his talented tongue as my upper body bowed over his head.

“Goku,” I whispered before I passed out.