A/N: so, um, i'm back...er, yeah. i was gone during the summer a place with no internet access, so...yay.
disclaimer...like i need one. who would buy this, anyway? I didn't make any $, but i should get a job.
Vegeta was not quite comprehending the situation. Okay, recap…
Bulma had convinced him not to train over the holidays.
Bulma had placed the cookies under the "mistletoe" so as to trick him in to standing under the sprig.
What the fuuuck?
Finally, his eyes focused back into reality. Bulma's eyes were closed and her lips were touching his. So he had unintentionally lied to her by saying he had never seen the Bastard… "kiss"…her. In fact, Bulma was aware of the fact that he had indeed seen them kiss. After all, he knew she remembered…
(Flashback, 2 years ago, March)
Bulma and the Bastard came into the house noisily. Bulma was wearing something that was decidedly immodest (which was usually the case when she was with her weak consort) and the Bastard was robed in the tacky yellow suit "he" never failed to wear when "he" was with Bulma. Vegeta, having just entered moments before—the GR had run out of drinking water—was in the kitchen, downing a water bottle in a matter of seconds. His generally silent nature resulted in the "man" and woman not being aware of his presence. Vegeta watched the Bastard hold Bulma and touch her lips with "his." She copied the motion. The Saiyajin watched them coolly, carefully indifferent of their human affairs although his interest in this strange human conduct was evident. He noted that both the Bastard and Bulma seemed to be enjoying this activity and were becoming increasingly agitated—and impatient.
Eventually Bulma noticed Vegeta, and she immediately detached herself from the Bastard, her eyes wide and cheeks red—redder still when he raised an eyebrow as her gaze darted to his bare, sculpted chest repeatedly Well, he couldn't blame her.
"H-hi, Vegeta," she said rather uneasily. "Um, didn't see you there."
"Uh, I—I better go," the Bastard muttered to Bulma. Vegeta smirked, registering his apparent fear with satisfaction. "See you, um, later, Bulma."
"See ya," Bulma said somewhat forlornly.
Her cheeks were still pink when she turned to face Vegeta, but she was not at all afraid. Vegeta noted this fact and was pleased with her consistent lack of fear of him. Instead, she was defiant; Vegeta could see it in the way she poised her head and how she set her jaw, but most of all, her blue gaze. Those eyes challenged him, daring him to say or do something.
"The GR's out of water," he informed her unperturbedly, and went back to the GR, pondering what Bulma and the Bastard had been doing and why the former had appeared to be embarrassed. As soon as he entered the spherical chamber all of those thoughts fled his mind as he upped the gravity.
(End of flashback)
So if contact of lips was kissing, and kissing was a gesture of affection, it still didn't clarify why Bulma had been embarrassed. Perhaps their agitation had been…
At last, he had discovered a link between human behavior and fucking.
Well, that unexpected epiphany would certainly explain why his heart was suddenly pounding like mad.
At last, Bulma pulled away. She was blushing—no surprise there—and wasn't meeting his gaze. This was an occasion; ever since he had come to Earth, there had only been two times when she had refused to look him in the eye: the day after they had fucked for the first time, and when she had told him she was pregnant.
Was she embarrassed? Regretful? Ashamed, even?
When she seemed to be seconds away from leaving, some strange instinct drove him to reciprocate the gesture.
That first kiss had simply been contact of lips. She had been able to sense his shock, and had been afraid that he would push her away.
Vegeta had kissed her of his own accord. She curved her arms around his neck and impulsively slipped her tongue between his lips. She winced at her forwardness. She could only hope…
To her surprise, he returned the favor and held her slender body in his arms, keeping her steady and on her feet as they kissed, and she could think of nothing else as she tasted him for the first time in her life.
They sunk to the floor, full of want and abandon. The milk and remaining cookies (Bulma had asked her mother to bake a lot, since she didn't want Vegeta to finish them so quick that she would not be able to talk to him, let alone kiss him) toppled to the floor, unheeded.
"Bulma, what's the point of closing my eyes when I can perceive everything with my remaining senses, including my ki? And besides, the power's out."
"Fine, but please, Vegeta, could you close your eyes anyway?" the blue-haired seraph wheedled. "I mean, mama lit the candles by herself, we might as well acknowledge the light."
He scoffed, but succumbed nonetheless. However, his claims proved to be true; he followed Bulma with more ease than she, even with his eyes closed. He stopped when she did.
"You can open your eyes now," she said excitedly.
"A door?" Vegeta raised an eyebrow.
"You moron," Bulma rolled her eyes. "Maybe you should, say, um…open it?"
He opened the door slowly, wary of a prank. Bulma intervened, muttering something about not trusting her, and swung the door to the side.
Vegeta recognized what it was in a second.
"Tada!" Bulma waved her arms in mock ceremony. "An indoor GR. Aren't you lucky I'm a genius?" Her smile suddenly turned shy. "So…did you get anything for me?"
He glanced at her in surprise.
"I already gave it to you."
She looked into his eyes, confused.
"What, you forgot already?" A smirk struggled to touch his face. "Let me refresh your memory."
He dipped down and kissed her without any reserve, keeping her balance in check by holding her flush against him. He could practically taste her surprise—he could certainly see it in her cerulean gaze. He broke the contact and whispered in her ear,
"A gesture of affection. That is my gift to you."
again, the OOC strikes again.