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Only A Kiss
by Gutterball
More by this Writer
Sometimes, a single action can change the entire course of a life, for good or for ill. Sometimes, it just makes a man see what's gone so horribly wrong in his life. Then, it's up to the man to make what he will of the revelation.
*Note from poster* I put Deathfic as a precaution due to a near death situation with a character. The character does not die.
Art Source:
By DBZscribles
https://www.pixiv.net/member.php?id=8918394
*Note from poster* I put Deathfic as a precaution due to a near death situation with a character. The character does not die.
Art Source:
By DBZscribles
https://www.pixiv.net/member.php?id=8918394
Deathfic
1 Only A Kiss
"Ooooh, look who's under the mistletoe!"Goku looked up at his old friend's gleeful, rather piercing cry, then abruptly realized that Bulma was staring at him. In fact, everyone was staring at him.
His heart sinking, he looked up at the door jamb overhead. Yup. Mistletoe.
Luckily, the only person standing near him was--
"I am not bound by this planet's infantile traditions, woman."
--was Vegeta. And no one expected him to kiss Vegeta.
He grinned with relief and settled back against the door jamb.
"And nothing in this universe would induce me to kiss the idiot."
A slight frown dented his forehead. Did the little jerk really have to put it so...obnoxiously?
"What's wrong, Vegeta?" Bulma's voice -- and face -- had taken on the smug, taunting tone she usually only employed on Krillin. And Yamcha. And Master Roshi. "Afraid you'll like it?"
Uh-oh. He felt a hot blush climbing his neck and into his cheeks while Vegeta simply closed up. He could almost see the icy walls rising in those black-on-black eyes, but his own embarrassment kept him from saying a word to avert the coming disaster.
"Mind your tongue, woman. Too much sake does not agree with you."
Double uh-oh. Now Bulma closed up, her blue eyes actually lightening two shades with the chill suddenly radiating off of her.
"Speaking of tongues, O Prince of One Saiyan, I think you should use it, too. Go on, Vegeta. It's tradition."
Though the two combatants stood practically across the room from each other, Goku couldn't help but feel frozen by the ice they generated. No chill on the planet -- real or imagined -- could cool his still-rising blush, though. Everyone was staring. He really, really hated being stared at.
"C'mon, you two. No one really expects--"
"Shut up and pucker up, Goku. Show His Highness how real men kiss."
Well, at least no one was staring at him any longer. Now everyone was staring at Bulma. Her guests shifted from foot to foot, obviously uncomfortable, but no one interrupted.
Unfortunately.
Slowly and distinctly, Vegeta retorted. "I am not now, nor have I ever been, a man. I am a saiyan, lest you forget, and a very real one, at that."
And then, to Goku's horror, the prince spun on his heel, closed the small gap between them, grabbed him by the spikes, and...and kissed him.
Oh, but no kiss had ever been like this. ChiChi's kisses had been sweet and small. This was...well...this was like sex itself. Rough sex. Hard, invasive, and full of teeth and tongue.
It was absolutely divine.
When shock at the touch and taste of Vegeta's mouth -- Vegeta's mouth! -- receded, a strange, new sensation kindled. He felt hot. Feverish. Even as he shoved his tongue back against his old rival's and shuddered at the sudden burn of teeth scraping his lower lip, he wondered how anyone could be this hot without being sick, without dying from it.
And part of him wanted to die from it. He wanted to come down with it like a killer virus and never recover. He raised his arms and wrapped them around the body so near his own, pulling it flush against his. It was hard and unfamiliar and lacked the gentle curves he was so used to, but it melded against his own in the heat -- pliable even if not soft.
In that perfect, sweltering moment, he suddenly understood the difference between desire and lust. This...oh, this was lust. Hot and raunchy, wet and messy, hard and sloppy. Instant, all-consuming lust.
And just like that, it was gone.
His mouth still open, tongue searching blindly for its suddenly absent partner for all of five seconds, he stood bereft. Then, a cold so deep and piercing that it hurt in his stomach swept over him, and he realized he was standing alone, that Vegeta had cut him off and pulled away, and that he likely looked more like an idiot than usual.
Burning heat swamped him again -- not lust, but simple, almost painful embarrassment. How on Earth could he have...could they have...could Vegeta have...could Bulma have...?
Oh, he wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
The room was silent. Almost blind in his mortification, he stared around the room at all the gaping, staring humans, then turned to look for Vegeta. Just in time to catch a fist right in the kisser. No pun intended.
He crashed to the floor, one hand to his bleeding mouth, and stared up at the prince. Ice personified, his old rival stood tall, arms crossed, eyes as blank as a frozen lake. Could this possibly be the same man...the same saiyan...who had just turned him into an inferno in an instant?
"Keep your tongue to yourself from now on, idiot." Those frozen eyes narrowed and focused across the room. "As for you, woman, you're drunk. But even so, you should know to never goad a saiyan."
With that, Vegeta spun on his heel and strode out of the ballroom, head held high. And somehow, though he'd been minding his own business and not bothering anyone, Goku felt more like an idiot than he ever had in his life, humiliated and disgraced. And abandoned.
A trio of giggling, blushing women stared at him while they whispered to each other behind their hands, and he felt something inside him wither. Nothing ever changed. His Highness could do whatever he pleased and come out standing tall. But even if Goku won, he still somehow managed to end up on his ass. Not that he'd won anything tonight but humiliation.
'Hello, darkness, my old friend.'
Suddenly furious, he scowled at the silly females and shoved to his feet. When they paled and turned away, he turned his glare on Bulma, who wasn't even looking at him but frowning fitfully at the door Vegeta had used to leave. Huffing through his nose, he clenched his fists and strode over to her, then grabbed her by the arm and spun her around to face him.
"How could you do that?"
She wobbled, so tipsy she couldn't catch her balance quickly enough and he had to hold her up. "Goku...what?"
He growled, tired of being everyone's punch line. "Dammit, Bulma! How could you do that to me? What did I ever do to you that you'd throw me into the wind like that? In front of all these people? They're all strangers!"
Her lips trembled, her big blue eyes filling up. "He hates me."
Fighting the urge to crumble at the first sign of tears, he clenched his jaw and deepened his scowl. "Answer me!"
But she broke down completely, throwing herself onto his chest and sobbing messily all over his new dress shirt. "He...haa-aaates mee-eee! He hasn't touched me in years! He just kissed you like you're all he ever wanted, but he won't even look at mee-eee!"
Blushing now worse than ever, he slapped his palm to his forehead and let his anger fizzle out in a new wash of embarrassment. It always did, anyway. He didn't know why he even bothered trying to stay mad.
"...kissed you like you're all he ever wanted...."
"Now, now, Bulma. It can't be that bad."
Her fragile little body heaved in his arms, her arms tight around his waist. "It's true! He never once loved me, but I thought he at least cared a little. But now...."
Grunting helplessly, he patted her on the back, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do now. He was the injured party here. How did he always end up solving everyone else's problems while they ignored his?
A little flare of anger came back, and he frowned. Putting both hands on her shoulders, he pushed her away from him, hardening his heart against the confusion in those startled, tear-washed eyes. This was one of his oldest friends...but she hadn't hesitated to make him part of her anger at Vegeta. To use him.
"Bulma, you're drunk. And you humiliated me to get back at Vegeta for something I didn't even know about. Think about that when you sober up. Maybe it'll give you some insight into your relationship with him."
He let her go and stepped out of reach, then did his best to mimic Vegeta's exit. Unfortunately, no matter how hard the set of his shoulders, he knew his leaving was little more than a retreat. He was running away.
As he took to the air, he couldn't help but sneak a glance at his old rival's window. The light was off, of course. Nothing about the evening's events would keep Vegeta up tonight. The bastard probably hadn't felt a thing. No mortification.
Goku frowned. No inferno, either. No one that cold could feel such heat.
Hanging his head, he headed for home. At least ChiChi had stayed away from the annual Christmas party this year. He really didn't think he could have dealt with her reaction to that kind of scene. She'd divorced him for less.
He only hoped it didn't get back to the boys and embarrass them. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint them.
Their hero worship was all he had left.
