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Shattered Pride Chapter 2 - Awakenings By chibi_vegeta He woke slowly the next morning, muscles protesting as he rolled onto his back and stretched, eyes closed. It was rare that he had the luxury of this, usually he was already gaining his feet by the time his consciousness fell into place. A small relaxed smile curved his lips, he allowed himself to drift at the edges of sleep a moment, snapshots of dreams fading into the shadows of his mind. His teeth flashed in a wide yawn, he was warm, he knew instinctively that he was safe, any threat would have woken him instantly. He almost purred in the back of his throat, he felt very, very good. There seemed to be a suppleness to his body, a contentment, but beneath that there was a slow coil and flex of sensuality. A scent lingered at the back of his senses, as though it had been there a while, and he didn't immediately notice it. But as he sprawled out under the sheets, recognition snapped him to full awareness, his eyes flew open and he stiffened, sitting up and propping himself on his palms. "Kakarrot!" It was then he saw them, hundreds, maybe thousands. Flower petals, they were scattered over the sheets, the floor, colorful bits of wildflower clinging even to the spikes of his hair. Vegeta blinked and absently brushed fingers through his scalp, gazing blankly at the small shower into his lap. "W-what the fuck?" The scent in the air was slowly fading, his nose subtly seeking out more. He blamed it on the snowfall of petals, though he knew it was Goku's. "Kisama!" he snarled and threw himself to his feet, dragging on a fresh bodysuit and threading his tail through the back, unconsciously frowning at the increased sensitivity of the fur. Kakarrot was taunting him, he knew it, mocking him, using that instant transmission just to show the prince how vulnerable he was. Vegeta's lip curled in a sneer, "bakayaro!" Considering the way his groin was tightening at the moment though, he wasn't sure who he was cursing. He jerked on white boots, stomping a little harder than necessary to seat them around his heels, and looked around the room. Nothing had been touched, it was as he'd left it, the balcony doors locked, blinds drawn. Nothing to show that anyone but himself had been there, nothing except the riot of soft color strewn mostly over the bed, mostly over himself. Something bothered him about this beyond the fact that he'd not sensed the other man; why the hell had Kakarrot sprinkled flowers on him? He would have expected a grab and 'BOO!' to be more that simpleton's style. ~Not so simple is he?~ his mind whispered, he remembered the look of cunning on the larger saiya-jin's face. "I want to touch you Vegeta." The voice whispered in his memory, he snorted in response, "Baka." Then he realized, ~flowers~, a Chikkyu-jin mating custom. The thought of it was making his stomach tighten in such a strange way. He scowled, if that onna saw it she'd be asking him all sorts of questions, questions he had no answers for. Cracking open the door to his room, he peered to check the hallway outside, ears straining. ~Safe so far~, he slipped down the hall to the utility room and returned with the vacuum. Once finished he checked to make sure all the petals were gone, his teeth clenched hard enough that his jaw flexed. His fists were tightened, his breath heavy, his skin flushed; he had powered up to super saiya-jin and noticed none of it. He was too busy muttering under his breath, an occasional "Kakarrot" the only intelligible word, his internal tirade flowed without break and his temper rose. "Vegeta." His brows knit in a furious golden frown as his thoughts chased around one another. "Vegeta?" His head bent as his thoughts deepened, his lips moving as his murmured curses continued to flow. "VEGETA!" He leapt back in surprise, tripping over the his own feet and falling to sit hard on the edge of the bed, blinking up into curious, and annoyed, blue eyes. "What is wrong with you Vegeta?" Bulma shook her head. "I called you three times." The prince stood and folded his arms, turning slightly to hide the blush that stained his cheeks at the thought of his clumsiness, "What the hell do you want woman?" Bulma breathed an exasperated sigh, while she really didn't know him well, she did know that his tone and attitude were more defensive than he let on. "I wanted to tell you that the new training 'bots are ready," she frowned at him, "and I want to know why a super saiya-jin is vacuuming my house." "Hm?!" Vegeta blinked and immediately powered down, then cursed himself for doing so since it only proved he'd been unconscious of it, "I'm learning to hold the form." The prince refolded his arms and smirked, ~good one~, he grinned to himself as he realized that he'd actually done it, powered up unconsciously, with the added benefit that it looked exactly as he'd excused. Bulma propped her hands on her hips, "That still doesn't explain what you're doing with the vacuum." He scowled at her, blurting the first thing he could think of, "I couldn't find you to do it for me, onna, maybe you should do less thinking and more housework." She growled at him, "aaarrrg! You are so RUDE Vegeta!" She stomped from the room and Vegeta breathed out, only then realizing how tense he'd been. He scowled again at himself as he drew on his gloves and started for the gravity chamber, at least she hadn't seen the flowers. The rest of the day had gone by without incident and Vegeta had mostly forgotten about the strange awakening in the fervor of the day's training. It came back to him though as he stretched out across the bed and closed his eyes, he scowled. ~What the hell is that baka planning?~ He tried to run it through his mind again, to worry an answer from his thoughts, but was slipping too quickly toward sleep. The low rumble of thunder sounding through his ears and his dreams, dreams that were tossed with images of his rival. Fighting, the amazing sight of him, of his power, as he transformed. That idiot smile on his face, Vegeta frowned even in sleep. More images darted through his sleeping mind, a long suppressed part of him freer to explore here in his subconscious. Vegeta again woke slowly, the soft pattering of a light rain dancing across his eardrums, a slow erotic grind of his hips went unnoticed as he drowsed. He burrowed his face into the pillow, again feeling that odd sense of physical euphoria, that supple yearning of his flesh. His eyes snapped open as his nose was filled with the scent of fresh rain and Kakarrot. The pillow was suffused with it, that spicy tingle in the back of his throat, he found himself thrusting his hips slowly into the mattress beneath him. The groan in the back of his throat slowly welled to a snarl, he jerked himself upright, the sheets pooling around his hips. "What the FUCK?!" He stared down in amazement at the bundle of orange fabric in his hands, jaw slack. Black brows drew down in an imposing scowl as he recognized it. The shirt was slightly damp, smelling of the rain that still trickled overhead, fresh rain and Kakarrot. He refused to think about it, refused to let himself see just how that shirt had might have wound up in his bed, refused to acknowledge the fact that he had buried his face in it and rubbed against the mattress, refused to notice his raging erection. Throwing himself to his feet he stalked into the bathroom, twisting the taps on viciously. He'd just bathed the night before, he didn't really need a shower, he completely denied that little voice in the back of his mind that told him he was trying to wash away the scent of the other saiya-jin. As the water drenched and flattened the spikes of his hair he closed his eyes and sighed, images from his dreams peeking back across his eyelids. He scrubbed the soap over himself quickly, trying to ignore the insistent heat in his groin, despite the steam, despite the scent of soap, Vegeta could still smell him. He grit his teeth and growled. "I will NOT!" With that he slammed out of the shower to dry and dress, throwing himself into the routine of training. The pattern of his days became more desperate as each morning brought some new taunt, some new proof that the larger saiya-jin was getting under his skin. The third day he had awoken to seeming normalcy, though the relaxed purr of his body still haunted him. He hadn't noticed at first, hadn't seen it until he'd gone into the bathroom, blinking sleepily into the mirror. Twined in and among the spikes of his hair was a circlet, woven of tiny flowerbuds and thorns, a crown. He had snarled in defensive fury, tearing it away and pushing it to the back of a drawer of clothing, he never thought to question himself as to why he hadn't simply destroyed it. The next morning it was a strange black ring, a ring that turned out to be made of Kakarrot's hair, finely braided and held together with ki, a ring that had been slipped around the base of his tail. Vegeta had almost panicked then, fearing that it would not come off. He sighed gratefully as it slid easily through the fur, his lip curling in a sneer as he swallowed the sensual keen that rose in the back of his throat. He threw himself into training harder and harder, trying to block the images that threatened to sneak into his mind, images of himself, images of Kakarrot. It had been nearly a week, he was to meet Goku the next day at their sparring grounds, a twist of nervous anticipation snaked through him. ~I just won't go~ he thought, ~but then I'll look like a coward!~ he argued with himself, his teeth bared in fury. ~How can I face him?~ These attacks had no defense, none other than his self-discipline, and that was quickly crumbling. Vegeta didn't know what to do, how to react, he did the only thing he could think of, the only thing he knew he was really good at; he got mad. "No, no, NO!" he snarled into the air of the gravity chamber, hurling ki blasts at each syllable before throwing himself into their path. He welcomed the fire that washed over him, his teeth showing in a feral smile as the blasts drove his consciousness away, maybe he wouldn't dream. He woke again to the scent of fresh spice, his face nuzzling the pillow, his hips slowly grinding into the bed. A soft whimper threaded from his throat, the dreams, nightmares, had become worse. Each progressive night brought a new vision of Kakarrot; touching him, teasing him, that hungry smile on his lips. He tore himself slowly from the current erotic torment, part of him fighting it, wanting to wallow in that scent. ~What's wrong with me?~ Wait. Bed? He lifted his head and blinked around, his own room, his own bed. Vegeta breathed soft relieved sigh, then scowled. The onna wasn't strong enough to have moved him, besides, he would surely have noticed if she had tried. The last thing he remembered was being in the gravity room, the ki blasts hitting him, pounding him into unconsciousness. Then how the hell had he wound up here? He yawned, still caught up in the lassitude of his body, that warm tingling seeming to spread over his back and down, he barely caught himself before he rubbed the evidence of his arousal into the sheets below. The covers were gone, he was sprawled out on the mattress face down, his limbs relaxed. His nakedness didn't register, he never bothered with clothing to sleep, what did register was a scattering of warmth slowly turning cool in the dip of his lower back. He scowled and, carefully, despite the lack of pain, reached splayed fingers to investigate. Drawing them back, he almost expected to see the crimson of his own blood, what he saw made his eyes dilate. The heady scent of spice was like a slap, his face paling as he looked at the slick, nearly clear, substance. Vegeta's eyes closed as he drew shaking fingers to his lips, his mind in turmoil as he slowly sucked and licked the bittersweet essence away, whimpering. "Kakarrot" He found himself again grinding into the bed, his body raging, a hot demanding coil in his middle. Suddenly snarling, he tore himself away with a howl, fists clenched as he stood in the center of the bed. He had set himself on this stubborn path and would stay to it, his pride simply would not accept any emotion engendered by the other saiya-jin other than fury and hate. The frustration of confusion and denial had so eaten away at what little peace of mind he had, he'd become so crazed with it, he wasn't even sure what he was denying anymore. "DAMN YOU!" He pulled on clothing, jerking it into place with force, tears of pain swimming to his eyes as his tail protested such abuse. "Kisama," he growled, barely into his boots before he slammed the balcony doors open and launched himself into the sky, still pulling on his gloves. ~I will beat you to a bloody pulp Kakarrot!!~ Back to Guest Fiction Main Page / Chapter 1 / Chapter 3 |