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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
- 8
- 9
- 10
(9)

Vegeta sat on the side of the bed, leaning his face in his hands and tiredly rubbing at his eyes.

And how are you this morning, Vegeta?

“Why, I don’t know,” he muttered in answer to his own question. He considered taking a shower, but ended up just pulling some old training clothes out of the closet.

He vaguely felt like he had made a fool out of himself.

Would you like to join me for lunch, Kakarott.Ugh. A wave of shame, he wasn’t sure where it came from.

I’m so weak.

No, he wasn’t.

A memory of Bulma, smiling teasingly, holding a flower and tearing away the petals one at a time. (“You love me, you love me not, you love me, you love me not…)

“Feh.” He had better things to do. He did. Soon. The clothes he wore were for training, but he didn’t feel like going to the gravity room; not right now.

Just do it.

Why should it be so bloody difficult? It shouldn’t, and if it was, it was something to defy, some failing to overcome. Just do it.

His feet were carrying him down the corridor, in a steady, purposeful walk. It wasn’t difficult, he was just going to the gravity room.

The doors slid open and the light automatically came on. The air was slightly stale, otherwise it was the same as always.

A circular room with a dome-like roof, the floor was thick and massive, armoured to withstand tremendous pressure. There, on the floor, was the exact place where he had fallen, where he had laid on his knees and groaned under the weight of his thoughts. He walked up to the spot and stared at it. So?

He raised himself up into the air, slow and smooth like a swimmer; diving. He didn’t touch the roof, but turned so he was lying horizontal with it like an upturned bowl. He looked down. Nothing had changed, it looked the same. Stupid room.

He could start training right now, just do it, it wouldn’t be hard. A press of a button, and he would be set. Be safe. No matter, it was of no matter.

The problem was… the problem was… something was the problem. He had been going to Bulma, right before she had said her piece. He had wanted to tell her something. He had something to say. Him… Me.

He felt… detached. Like the room below existed in another reality. It was nothing but a shell, something muffled, cushioned and adjusted. It was the same, but it had never been more than this.

His feet touched the floor. The door was still open, and he walked through it, the corridor felt narrow and steep. He made the turns without thinking, paper corners, sketchy furniture. He felt a whiff from the kitchen, but it failed to entice him. It was thin, without substance… the smell of a concept. The idea of food.

The street outside Capsule Corp was bright; it almost appeared white in the sunlight. The air was still cool from the night, and stray birds flew overhead. He stood still, watching the people walk by. Yes. Slowly, it was easing, the feeling that he had. That nothing was real.

Pride, she had said. She had been giving herself, sacrificed something for his sake. He should tell her that he, in spite of it all, was… glad that she wouldn’t compromise her pride.

So he had been going to ask for help. To lean his head just a little bit. Tell her “thank you” perhaps, and perhaps dare to tell her how hard it was. How hard it was to trust in a place where he could rest, to simply allow himself to get wrapped in a cocoon of time.

Vegeta scowled. This standing still was no good. He wanted to do something, wanted to feel the effort of being in motion. That was the thing he liked about the gravity room, the way it made him feel every muscle of his body, the way he could stay in there for hours and come out exhausted and somehow cleansed. There was no need for doubt or questions in the gravity room.

“Go to hell.” The words fell from his lips, sounding taut and harsh.

He opened himself to the power, it was as easy as breathing. He lifted his arms over his head, felt the muscles of his back tighten as he reached upwards in a slow stretch. The muscles of his thighs bounced and energy danced around bent fingers. He yawned, a yawn that made his eyes tear up and his head feel considerably lighter.

Good morning, Vegeta.

Eyes on the sky, he flew straight up, through the clouds and higher, opening himself to more and more of the power. He saw the air in front of him shimmer and change, altered by the energy of his own aura. He looked downwards and felt a tightening in his groin, a heat at the pit of his stomach. Whoa, far to the ground.

From this high, the city didn’t look white, it was a light shade of blue. It rested on the reaches of land like a toy dropped on the grass. In one direction was the sea, in the other mountains and forests. It went on and on, a serene warmth emitting from it all.

For once he knew he was coming. With his senses effortlessly reaching along the land, he felt a shifting and a movement, and he had his gaze fastened on the place where he knew the other Saiyan would appear. His fingers on his forehead, Kakarott actually looked startled when he found himself closely watched.

“Vegeta,” he said, hesitation in his voice. “Why have you powered up?”

Vegeta shrugged, decided to ignore the bout of irritation that rose up in him. The tone and the question spoke of distrust. “Well,” he said. “In part… I was calling for you.”

“You were?” Kakarott’s eyes grew wide, and he stared at Vegeta with undivided attention. It was remarkable, really, and it occurred to Vegeta that if he said something cold right now, he would in all likelihood get to see the effect it had on that open face.

Kakarott had always seemed soft, too soft, when it came to dealing with him. Even when they were fighting, there had been that implied offer, that questioning generosity. At the same time, the other man had had been infuriatingly well-guarded, seemingly letting anything he said run off him like water. It wasn’t like that anymore, Vegeta thought. He didn’t know when the shift had come exactly, but somewhere along the line Kakarott had placed him in a position where he would actually be able to hurt him.

(“I've been so glad lately, about what's been happening between us.”)

Vegeta spoke, breaking the brief silence. “How does a spar sound to you?”

The answering smile was instantaneous. It spoke of joy and simple delight, and Vegeta noticed, with real wonderment, that it warmed him to see it.

----

The pace of the spar was easy, nothing like their last raging powers and crushing punches. They kept on the ground, the punches were felt, but they didn’t injure. Well, they didn’t injure much, Vegeta thought as his fist collided with Kakarott’s mouth. The hit was short and fast, and he smirked when he felt the taller man’s teeth against his knuckles, when he saw a thin line of red appear between his lips. Goku smoothly ducked a kick, which was blocked and redirected, and Vegeta vaulted twice before he landed on his hands and his feet in the tall grass, the smirk never leaving his face.

The sun was high when they finally decided to take a break. They stood in the shadow of a large oak, their breath slowly returning to normal. Vegeta enjoyed the breeze that shook the leaves of the tree and cooled his skin where the shirt clung to his back. He wiped the hands on the sides of his trousers and crossed the arms over his chest.

“Well…” Vegeta said, staring at a line of wispy clouds. “All things considered, your technique is amazingly good.”

“Thanks,” Goku laughed. Without warning he flung himself down on the ground, Vegeta could actually feel it reverberate through the soles of his boots. Goku moved around a bit, burying his face in his crossed arms. An amused chuckle rose up from his prone form.

Vegeta slowly shook his head. The way Kakarott was behaving reminded him of the time when the other man had showed off that little cottage of his; when Vegeta had got to see him in his… habitat, as it was.

“What are you doing?”

“Huh?” Kakarott turned his head to the side, glancing up at him. “I felt like lying down. It’s very nice.”

Vegeta found himself wondering if the rivers and the mountains and that little cottage weren’t the reason that Kakarott acted so… different, so unlike his heritage and his people. It made him wonder what was most valid; that little cottage… or the ship of Frieza.

Alright. That was enough, quite enough of prying questions and self-examination. He sat down on the ground, laid one leg across the other and leaned back against the trunk of the tree.

Listening to the surrounding silence, he could feel some of the tension leaving his shoulders. He could feel the warmth of the bark through his shirt.

It was, indeed, nice.

---

Goku thought to himself that he liked the smell of grass. He lay on his stomach, resting his head on one outstretched arm. His other arm was curled in front of his face, creating a small, darkened cave. Blades of grass tickled his nose.

He sensed Vegeta sitting down on the ground next to him, and he saw in his mind’s eye how the other man leaned back against the tree. He sat so still that Goku was sure that he had closed his eyes. He smiled drowsily behind his arm. There was a good feeling that came after sparring, and the best way to sense it was to be still and to close the eyes.

He thought that Vegeta should lie down too, because to felt so good and it was a feeling he wanted to share. Vegeta should feel how the grass was warm on the surface but cool underneath, feel the water and the life in the soft little blades.

It would be nice to have Vegeta lying next to him. That would be very nice. Vegeta would lie just like he did now, and he would lift his arm and lay it around Vegeta’s back. His head would be resting right next to Vegeta’s shoulder; skin that was warm from the sunlight would touch his forehead and his cheek. And he would move closer to Vegeta, because it felt good to be so close, to tighten his arm around his back, to feel his presence like he could feel the grass and the sun.

“Hm…” Goku murmured. His arm started to reach out, it paused in the air for one instant. Then he let it fell, through the place where Vegeta would have been, and his eyes sprang open, blinking sleepily in the light.

He froze, covering his eyes as if covering his confusion. His heart was pounding against his ribcage, slow and hard. Why did…? Why should…? Goku took a deep breath, deliberately stilling his heart. Confusion wasn’t something he was used to; it was uncanny, like he had suddenly lost the balance of his body in the middle of a spar.

Yet he would deny nothing, disprove nothing, and keep nothing from himself. His feelings were his own.

Goku lay in the grass. He was no longer resting, his eyes were open, his expression thoughtful and grave.
- 8
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As Loyalty Can Be