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Learning how to Live	By : Vegetalk Category: Dragon Ball Z > Het - Male/Female > Vegeta/Bulma Views: 2505 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own DragonBall Z or it's characters. No money is made from this fan work.

Chapter List
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Vegeta had hoped Bulma would perhaps leave him alone for the sake of her own pride, but alas not. As he stared out the window the following morning at the gravity machine, angrily punishing himself by thinking about all the training he was missing, his ears pricked to the unmistakable sound of her footsteps down the hall. He closed his eyes.
“Good morning, Vegeta!” When he turned to her, there she stood with a tray of food as if nothing had ever happened. He eyed up the items on the tray with more interest than for her. “Feeling any better?” She asked cheerfully, placing the tray down on the table and then sitting on the edge of his bed.
Vegeta looked to the space in which she had sat, then up to her face aggressively.
Ignoring his territorial glare and silence entirely, she crossed her legs and made herself comfortable to assert confidence. “The gravity room is looking good, huh? We’re making some new additions, since we have to rebuild the entire thing… Like increasing the maximum gravity simulation…” Vegeta’s expression softened suddenly as if by magic and he reached for one of the food items, listening intently to her.
Bulma smiled to herself.
“When will it be ready?” Vegeta asked, his mouth full of food.
“It’ll be ready by the time you’re fit to use it, don’t worry.”
Vegeta shot a glare at her. “And when do you presume that will be?” He was determined to get out there as soon as possible.
Bulma reached for his torso, Vegeta pulling back from her wandering hands as he glared at her suspiciously. “Let me see how your wounds are healing, then!” She remarked as if it obvious. He sat up reluctantly, allowing her to remove the dressings, watching cautiously, his eyes following her arm up to her face without tilting his head. She met his stern expression with a smile, “It’s looking good.” She said, unnecessarily caressing his chest as she finished.
Vegeta’s glance shot to her hand, then to her face to find it incredibly close. His neck jutted back slightly and he parted his lips about to question her, when she tilted her head to kiss him, again. And he was angry, so angry and confusd to have let it happen, for the second time.
She closed her eyes and deepened the kiss, and he retracted his head, but not enough to pull apart – perhaps curiosity, perhaps enjoyment. Her hand began to run back down and over his chest, but he grabbed her wrist tightly before she ventured far. She broke the kiss.
She was never afraid Vegeta would hurt her, but she was afraid he might become so distressed he’d do something stupid like fly off into space and never return. He was so… interesting. So confusing. So, alluring? He wasn’t conventionally attractive by any stretch of the imagination, but something about him stirred her interest, wanting to understand him. She realized his grip on her had lessened, but rather than pull her hand free, she moved it towards his face, his hand still around her wrist and perfectly able to stop her, but he did not. She gently touched his cheek, his grip on her wrist tightening again, ready to object. It was as if he couldn’t make up his mind.
“What are you doing?” He finally vocalized, his voice wavering and uncharacteristically quiet
She smiled and shrugged seductively “I’m not sure, Vegeta.” before running her thumb over his cheek, causing him to visibly shiver. He took in a deep breath as if about to snap. He hated the feelings rushing through him, he’d taught himself to fear this more than anything, conflicted between natural desires and objective goals. He let out a little gasp of defeat, closing his eyes, his shoulders shrinking as he relaxed to her touch. When he opened his eyes, she was leaning in to kiss his parted lips once more. Whilst he wouldn’t return the motions, he did not object, he just let her.
When Bulma broke away, Vegeta pulled forward as if to ask her not to stop. He blushed heavilly, furrowing his brows and averting dark eyes. Smiling back at him, she reuniting their lips. This time, however unenthusiastically and awkwardly, he reciprocated. His eyes closed again, heart thudding in his chest as it screamed to silence internal panic.
Bulma’s hand moved slowly down his thick neck, over his collarbone and to his chest. She pushed gently, and he, accepting defeat against his own inhibitions, laid back without complaint. Internally she asked herself the same question he had, “What am I doing?”, her thoughts turning to Yamcha. Things had been difficult ever since Vegeta started staying at the Briefs’ house, it’s as if he’d predicted this… No, no. He wasn’t that smart, she scuffed internally. He was just jealous – of Vegeta’s strength, of his will power, of his fearlessness in battle. She had nothing to do with it, she tried to convince herself.
Bulma looked to Vegeta’s chest, running her fingers over some of the larger scars and crisp definition of every muscle covered by blood stained bandages, before turning and lifting her legs up onto the bed, laying her head on the pillow beside him, facing him, a hand resting on his chest.. He stared up at the ceiling, tilting his gaze to her quietly, his face blank. Through a smile, she raised her knee up onto his thigh. Vegeta tensed instantly, raising his own knee in defense, his teeth suddenly bared at her in a silent growl, with a heavy blush flushing upon his cheeks. She tilted her head up at his face quizzically, before realizing what the matter was. Smirking to herself, she laid her head back down, moving her hand down over his abdomen. Vegeta let out a long haggard breath, his face expressing shock for a moment before he closed his eyes in response to her hand traveling south, his entire body tense and ready to stop her, mind and body at war for control. What are you doing, stop her! Stop her this instant!
Bulma propped herself up suddenly on her elbow. “Are you alright? Do you want me to stop? Vegeta?” Vegeta’s lacking enthusiasm beginning to worry her, his tense expression so unlike any reaction to her advances she’d ever seen.
“I’m fine.” He snapped immediately, opening his eyes to make stern eye contact with her. Inside he was screaming in conflict, at a loss for words that adequately described how he was feeling in the controlled way he wanted to express it. It wasn’t possible. That’s why he so rarely said anything.
Bulma smiled happily back, not having expected a reply. Her hand continued, gently, trailing over his groin, he twitched to her touch and she smiled at him reassuringly, though he tried to avoid making eye contact with her altogether. She straddled him, leaning down to kiss. He laid there, hands by his sides, whilst she held his face and passionately made out with his lips. When she sat back, feeling his firm yet compressed arousal under his tight training shorts.
Bulma lifted her top off over her head, and her wriggling made Vegeta open his eyes curiously. Her bra tantalizingly concealed her breasts, but her soft, pale skin and slim waist were revealed. She dropped her top from the side of the bed and lent down towards him again. He shyly recessing into the bed, Bulma took his hand and placed it on her waist, hoping he would perhaps explore her body, but he just froze, staring into her eyes. What was he thinking? What was he feeling? Maybe she would never know.
Vegeta looked to his rough, dark, scarred hand against her hip, slowly moving it to follow the curve of her waist. Her skirt fanned out around her thighs and over his lower stomach. Was he enjoying this? He wasn’t sure, but he was passed the point of no return as far as he was concerned. She’d seen things about him, private things. She was beginning to get to know him in ways he’d never let anyone before, including himself.
Bulma arched to one side, dismounting him, fumbling to slip her panties off under her skirt and Vegeta caught a glimpse of a dampened patch on them as she dropped them off the bed…. She then gently tugged at the waist of his shorts, covering her mouth with the back of her hand to hide a childish giggle, and Vegeta, to both his own surprise and hers, arched himself to allow her to pull them down. Bulma tried to avoid obviously looking, blushing with a light chuckle that forced her lips into a smirk. She returned to her position, straddling him, their embarrassment once again hidden under her skirt. Their gazes met dramatically, and she lent down to burry her face in his thick neck, rubbing herself on him. Their silent closeness might as well have been in darkness though closed eyes, only the faint sound of each other’s jaggered breaths and the bed creaking softly to their gentle movements. She reached down with her hand to align themselves, before curving her hips back and inviting him inside.
Vegeta took in a deep breath, raising his arms and, after a few moments of wondering what to do with them, placed them down on her lower back. Bulma buried her face deeper against his cheek and into his neck, breathing in the heavy smell of sweat and masculinity on him that was somewhat different to other men – maybe that’s just how saiyans smell, she thought. She pulled a face to herself in reaction, it wasn’t a nice smell. She raised her head slightly, just enough to make eye contact with him out the corner of her gaze, and his eyes rolled to the side to meet hers. She bit her lip a little under her grin and began rocking her hips against him, his eyes closing as he let out a long sigh. His arms moved tighter around her back as he found himself starting to let go and returning her grinds, tilting his face into her fluffy blue hair to hide his expressions of content.
As he remembered the feeling of starting to loose control, Vegeta shook his head and looked at the rocky ground beneath his feet. Moving his hands out in front of his view, he stared at his palms. He hated the realities of being a living being, fallible and susceptible to bodily desires. Ever since that day, the experience had taunted and distracted him. However much he wanted it not to be true, he’d enjoyed it. He’d thought about it, wanted more of it and so repeatedly punished himself and her by simply avoiding all contact, intensifying his training. It was another emotional burden to the ever-growing pile he had pent up over the years and letting go, letting it happen, had felt good - but he just couldn't admit its worth. "Kakarot should be my only concern right now." He said sternly into the wind, clenching his fists tightly once more and pounding them downwards. He raised a swirling bright aura against the dim twilight around him that pushed his feet down into the rock, causing it to crumble.
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Learning how to Live