Patience: Patience

Patience
By Pixelgoddess

Warnings, pairings, and all that… Vegeta/Goku, sparring and kissing, no sex. *sigh* Maybe next time. Why can’t I own them? Why? Why?

One-liner – “Why did you stop?”
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Vegeta bared his teeth in a joyful snarl, flashing to gold in response to Kakarott’s own power up. They had been sparring for hours, Vegeta pushing the younger Saiyan to the limits of his defenses.

It had taken Vegeta years…decades, even, to learn to be more patient in battle, but lately it had been paying off. He had changed his strategy over time – defeat after defeat had finally taught him not to rush himself in combat. He husbanded his resources, wearing away at his opponent, testing his defenses, letting him make the first mistake.

Kakarott was a perfect opponent to practice on; he rarely called on his power unless he felt hard-pressed; he didn’t transform any higher than he had to in order to win. His powering up now told Vegeta everything he needed to know – Kakarott was in danger of losing this spar and he knew it.

However, after decades of sparring together, their power levels were virtually equal – Kakarott no longer had the advantage of the strength he always used to rely on for victory.

“Having problems, Kakarott?” he smirked.

“No problems, Vegeta,” Kakarott snapped back, ripping away the remains of his torn shirt.

Vegeta often wondered if Kakarott did that on purpose. His choice of clothing colors had fortunately changed, but the style remained much the same – loose gis that ripped and shredded much too easily.

Vegeta had to admit he found the display somewhat distracting. Kakarott was a Saiyan in his prime – very much in his prime – his body hard and muscled from intense training. He had often wondered what that body would feel like writhing under him, but had never attempted to find out- not yet, anyway. He could be patient, though. Even though Kakarott appeared blind to his interest and admiring glances, maybe he would notice some day. After all, he was a Saiyan – eventually instinct would have to win out over the humans’ teachings.

If it didn’t? Vegeta had come to value Kakarott’s company; he might want more, but he would not pursue him blindly, risking the rejection of one of the only people still alive who he considered a friend. Still…that didn’t stop him from looking.

He cursed to himself and went on the offensive when his admiration cost him a punch in the gut. If it weren’t for the additional protection his own training outfit provided him he’d almost consider testing this distraction technique against Kakarott. It would be interesting to see if the younger Saiyan noticed.

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Vegeta stood under the steaming shower of Kakarott’s cottage and curled his hand around his erection, stroking himself. Today he had almost lost his resolve to be patient. After they had both ascended, the battle had continued with its usual intensity. Amazingly, Kakarott, usually so focused, had gotten distracted. More than once Vegeta had found an opening that should never have existed, his blows striking home.

It soon became evident Kakarott’s mind was not on this spar, the point proven when the Saiyan dropped from the sky, hitting the ground with bone-jarring force. Vegeta quickly followed his descent, landing beside a still-stunned Kakarott.

Kakarott tried to get up, but Vegeta put his hand on the firm chest of his friend and made him stay down. He was so focused on the feel of Kakarott’s skin against his he almost forgot what he was doing. He had even gone as far as spreading his fingers to touch more of him, only stopping at Kakarott’s moan.

“Rest a minute, Kakarott,” he said. He hadn’t realized he had hurt him that much. “Get your breath back.”

“Vegeta,” Kakarott said, and he was nearly undone; he had heard his name gasped that way in his dreams. Vegeta almost kissed him right then.

He swallowed hard, fighting for control. “Looks like you lose today,” he smirked when he could finally speak normally. He wondered if Kakarott had noticed his growing erection; it was getting more and more difficult to hide his attraction.

Kakarott had looked up at him with those intense dark eyes of his and licked his lips, blushing slightly, “You win, Vegeta.”

Vegeta stroked himself faster, picturing that perfect body against his own, Kakarott moaning his name. He didn’t know how much more patient he could be; soon he would have to tell Kakarott and hope the younger Saiyan would understand.

Vegeta bit his lip as he came, not wanting Kakarott to hear him moaning his name.

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Vegeta chased the last of his dessert with his spoon. “Not bad Kakarott. Maybe you should lose more often.”

Kakarott chuckled, “Maybe I should cook all the time no matter who wins. Face it Vegeta, you aren’t much of a chef and robot-made food gets boring.”

He smirked and dipped his spoon into Kakarott’s dessert, stealing a bite.

“Hey!”

“That’s what happens when you insult your prince,” Vegeta said. Truth be told, Kakarott wasn’t lying. Vegeta could cook enough to get by – he’d never starve – but he just never spent the time learning the finer points. On the other hand, Chichi was an excellent cook and Kakarott had spent much of the last years of her life at her side, learning his way around the kitchen. He envied Kakarott the long years with his mate; Bulma’s heart attack had taken her from him unexpectedly.

Kakarott finished his dessert, racing to eat it before Vegeta stole much more. “I’ll make more next time, okay?” he said as he began clearing the table.

“Does that mean you are planning on losing again?” Vegeta smirked, admiring the way Kakarott moved around the kitchen.

“No! I’ll cook no matter what. But I’m going to win next time,” he said, depositing the dirty dishes in the sink.

“We’ll see.” Vegeta tipped back in his chair and closed his eyes, content. He would have to go home in a few hours, but until then he and Kakarott would play a video game, watch an action movie, or maybe argue over strategy.

He opened his eyes curiously, as he felt the heat of the younger Saiyan at his side. Kakarott was looking at him strangely, his brow furrowed with indecision. Unexpectedly Kakarott leaned down and pressed their lips together.

Vegeta was stunned – too stunned to react or cooperate. All he could do was look at the face of the Saiyan he had wanted for so long. Kakarott kissed him timidly, eyes closed. It had happened! It had finally happened! Suddenly Kakarott’s eyes snapped open and he stared at Vegeta in panic before recoiling.

“Vegeta…I’m, I’m, I’m sorry…I don’t know what…I, I, I-.” Kakarott began retreating, practically stumbling over his own feet in an effort to escape.

Vegeta growled and sat up, the chair legs crashing down to the floor. It wasn’t right – Kakarott should not be sorry for doing something Vegeta had been patiently waiting for.

Vegeta lunged forward and grabbed his arm as Kakarott began to raise his fingers to his forehead in order to escape. Somehow, he knew if he let him run there would be no second chance; Kakarott would rationalize this away.

“Kakarott,” he purred, curling his hand tightly in the blue gi. He pushed until Kakarott’s back was pressed against the wall. It bothered him to see the panic in his bright black eyes, but he was sure he could get past that.

“Vegeta…” he said desperately, “I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad.”

But Vegeta did know what came over Kakarott; the same thing that came over him so often. How long had Kakarott-?

“Kakarott,” he said silkily, releasing the tight grip on his wrist to glide up his arm, finally coming to rest in the dark spikes, “Why did you stop?” Vegeta didn’t give him a chance to answer, tightening his grip and pulling Kakarott’s head down to his.

Kakarott’s mouth was the heat he had dreamed it was. Their tongues touched and tasted, breathing each other in. Kakarott’s body was hard against him, hands touching his flesh, sending fire through his skin. Kakarott wanted him as much as he did.

And all it took was patience.