Disclaimer: I don't own the DBZ gang, a rich Japanese man does. I don't even own my cat, she owns me. :)
Warnings: Lemon, language, fluff, OOC.
Summary: It's Vegeta and Bulma's wedding night but they have a slight problem. Both are virgins and neither really has a clue what to do.
November 2004 Debs-dragon
Vegeta sat on the edge of the bed fidgeting nervously. His stomach was trying to tie itself in knots, sweat trickled down his back while his mind ran in circles. It was a new sensation to him; one he didn't understand.
It made him nervous.
He heard the sound of running water in the bathroom and his mouth went dry. In just a few minutes that door would open and 'she' would step out.
Vegeta closed his eyes momentarily, the past few hours came back into his mind to taunt him and he growled softly. The wedding ceremony had gone without a hitch; other than himself getting hitched. Kakarott had stood beside him grinning like a loon for the entire ceremony. Now, if Kakarott had been Bulma's father he could have understood the smiling face. After all, it isn't every day you managed to off load a daughter and gain a Prince into the family.
The reception had gone well, although he thought the caterers would probably be bankrupt after feeding the likes of Kakarott and his brood. He could swear that Saiyan was part vacuum. He didn't eat his food; he inhaled it. Fortunately for him the bridal party had been the first to approach the buffet and Vegeta had managed to beat Kakarott to the spread.
There were only empty platters left once Kakarott had paid a visit. The other one hundred guests weren't too impressed either. Once the catering manager had been revived, the caterers managed to rustle up enough food to feed the rest of the hungry wedding guests, although soup and sandwiches were definitely not what they had expected.
Once all the silly, human traditions such as cutting the cake, (which Kakarott had been banned from), speech making, dancing, bouquet tossing and garter removal had been accomplished with only one casualty; and he hadn't been the one to knock Yamcha out cold, Bulma had done that herself with a lovely right hook he might add when Yamcha's removal of the garter had become a little more friendly than it should have; they bade their farewells.
Kakarott had given him a nudge to the ribs with his elbow and followed it up with a wink. When Vegeta protested, all he got was another wink and a 'Have a good time and don't wear her out' from the other Saiyan.
Now Vegeta had a pretty good idea of what Kakarott was referring to, contrary to belief he did know where offspring came from. Although he did have another problem and that was the reason for him sitting here, on the edge of the bed in his agitated state. All his life he'd done nothing but train, fight, kill and train some more. Always striving to be the best, honing his body, fine tuning his skills, striving to become the ultimate warrior.
He'd had no time for the female of whatever species was around him, opting to train rather than frequent the pleasure houses or drinking holes on the many and varied planets he'd been a 'guest' of. And there in lay his problem.
He was a virgin.
And what was worse, he didn't have a clue about anything relating to sex.
Any minute now his new wife would come out of that bathroom, probably wearing something flimsy and expect him to make wild, passionate love to her. The wild bit he knew he could do, no problem. He could turn Super Saiyan now at a moments notice. If wild was what she wanted, then wild he could give her.
He wasn't too sure about the passionate and making love bit.
He looked down at his attire. Should he get undressed? Maybe he should, after all, she obviously was and they were going to sleep together. He stood up and removed his shoes and socks, his jacket, shirt, tie and pants all followed, neatly tossed into a heap in the chair. Now he was left only in his boxers. Should he take them off too? Or leave them on? He wasn't shy of his body, he did work out regularly, okay obsessively and it showed in the corded muscles, chiseled and defined to perfection, bulging in the right places, sleek and smooth in others.
And he certainly wasn't lacking in other places either.
As far as he knew.
Best keep the boxers on for now. He didn't want to completely frighten the woman off. She had been the only person with whom he found a rapport. Both of them stubborn, sharp tongued and smart. That was one of the reasons he'd taken her as his mate.
She challenged him; not physically, but mentally.
Seemed as though the challenge was about to change...
And he hadn't a clue how to respond to the physical.
Biting his lower lip, he turned back the covers on the bed and climbed in. Kakarott had said to relax and enjoy, let nature take its course.
Pity he hadn't asked for a road map.
# # #
Bulma gave herself one last look over in the mirror. She'd taken a quick shower, brushed her teeth, brushed her hair, dabbed a little perfume in some discreet spots, brushed her teeth again and rubbed some ointment over her bruised knuckles. Damn that Yamcha had a hard jaw! She checked her appearance again. The flimsy material of the night dress covered her slender figure, enhancing her curves in all the right places. She hoped Vegeta would appreciate it. Sighing softly to herself and locking gazes with her twin in the mirror, she took a deep breath and muttered. "It's now or never."
Turning around, she went to the door and placed her hand on the handle to open it. At the same time she flipped off the light switch and stepped out into the bedroom.
Vegeta turned off the bedside lamp, leaving the curtains partially open. Soft moonlight provided a silvery illumination and as the bathroom door opened, his eyes were automatically drawn in that direction. He felt his breath quicken slightly as the woman stepped into the room. A moonbeam fell across and behind her as she moved towards the bed, silhouetting her and giving her a surreal glow.
Vegeta had to admit she was beautiful, soft on the eyes and shapely. The almost transparent material of the negligee she wore only heightened her beauty and Vegeta couldn't help but be moved. She was lovely, desirable and his.
Now all he had to do was figure out how to put that desire from an emotion into the practical.
Nervously, Bulma walked across the room to the bed where her new husband lay waiting. A small fluttering of butterflies in her stomach soon turned into a full on panicked migration as she watched him watching her. He was lying in the bed, propped up by the pillows, chest bare and the sheets draped over his hips. He looked alluring, sexy even, like some sort of Adonis... and deadly.
Bulma swallowed, the lump in her throat getting larger as her eyes scanned the sheets. If he was this well chiseled and muscled above the sheets, just how well toned and endowed was he below the sheets!
Still being a virgin herself she hoped to hell she would be able to do this, to take all of him and still be able to walk at the end of it.
Apprehensively she slid between the sheets, relieved to see from the quick glance she stole that Vegeta still had his boxers on. She half lay, half sat in the bed next to her new husband while her mind raced at a hundred miles and hour, always coming back to the same question; What now?
Patiently she waited for Vegeta to make a move.
And waited some more.
Slowly she turned her head to look at him, a reddish tinge to her cheeks. He returned her gaze, unsure of what exactly she expected from him.
"So, ummm... What now?" Bulma asked a little tentatively, after all, wasn't he the one who was supposed to make the first move?
"What do you mean?" he gruffed in return.
"Well what?" Vegeta's onyx eyes turned towards the female.
Bulma shivered under that gaze and then her annoyance took over, shoving any apprehension aside. "What do you mean by what?" she snarled. "You're supposed to be the male here!"
"Yes, I am the male here, that much is obvious," Vegeta smirked.
"Then how about showing it?'
"I beg your pardon?" Vegeta wasn't too sure what she meant. Did she want him to strip off and prove he was male?
"Vegeta?" Bulma sighed and picked at the blanket. "This is supposed to be our wedding night."
"Affirmative. I do understand that," Vegeta huffed.
"Then why aren't you doing...? Well, you know." Bulma began to get frustrated at her tongue that seemed to want to tie itself into knots.
Vegeta couldn't help the blush that graced his cheeks, no matter how hard he fought against it.
"Are you blushing?" asked Bulma as she snuck a peek at her husband.
"Yes you are," she crowed.
"No I'm not," he huffed.
"Then why are your cheeks red?"
"I'm coming down with a cold?"
"Nice try, buddy, but I don't buy it," snickered Bulma.
"It's hot in here?" Vegeta tried again.
"Not hot enough," came the muttered reply.
"And what do you mean by that?"
"Vegeta! This is our wedding night, it's supposed to be all hot and steamy as we consummate our marriage," Bulma all but yelled.
"But we ate at the reception. Well, at least Kakarott did, I'm not too sure about the rest of the people."
"That's consume, you idiot! Consummate, as in make love to me, seal our wedding vows, jump my bones, screw me blind, ravish my body, have wild monkey sex..."
There was a sudden silence in the room.
"Wild monkey sex?" The words were a little strangled.
"I can't transform without my tail, despite the fact that we have a moon."
"It was just a saying, Vegeta. I didn't mean it in the literal sense."
"So now you're backing out?"
"I never said that!"
"Then, what exactly are you saying?"
Bulma resisted the urge to smack her forehead with her hand, instead she took a deep breath, exhaled slowly and composed her thoughts. Choosing her words carefully, she spoke as if addressing a small child. "Vegeta, tell me something. Do you know anything at all about sex?"