Post
by Karrit » Thu Jul 31, 2008 10:50 pm
This is an excerpt from a fan fic I've been working on off and on.
Warning: Mature themes (not sexual) and some vulgar language for comedic effect.
A “Briefs” Moment in Vegeta’s life – Bon Appetite!
“Four-thousand!” grunted Vegeta as he concluded his afternoon routine of doing pushups with only his pinky. His entire body was caked in its own musky sweat. Vegeta never did care neither how he appeared nor smelt while training. Only afterward would he concern himself with cleanliness. A saiyan can go for long periods of time without bathing, but not forever. Vegeta snorted as he thought about his father making him bathe after every drill. ‘Father would have made it so I couldn’t sit on my ass for six months if I ever thought about running around the palace reeking like some third-classed peasant.’ he thought. He lifted his right arm and sniffed his moist armpit with disgust. “Bah! I’ll bathe right after I fill my stomach with food.”
Bulma headed into the kitchen. She couldn’t believe her parents were dragging her off to yet another boring dinner party and what was worse is that they wanted Vegeta to come along! They seemed oblivious to the fact that Vegeta was an egotistical, self-righteous bastard who blew up planets for pleasure. Sure Vegeta was tolerable around the house-just barely. But what about at a restaurant, however? Bulma cringed at the thought of Vegeta blasting one of the cooks’ heads off for finding a hair in his soup. “Well, that’s not how it’s going to be,” she whispered to herself, “There’s more than one way to control a saiyan.” She paused as a strange feeling suddenly came over her.
The woman didn’t feel ill, but she did feel rather out of it. It was almost like she had become intoxicated. Bulma soon felt relaxed, more than she would have liked to be. She had similar feelings before when she was with Yamucha right after he’d finish working out. There was something about his sweat…SWEAT! ‘Oh shit!’ Bulma thought as she noticed the saiyan prince eating out of a bucket of leftover Kentucky Fried Chicken. He was soaked from head-to-toe in perspiration. Vegeta looked up at her and clearly not amused.
“Oh it’s YOU,” he hissed coolly. It had been two weeks since he moved into Capsule Corporation and he tried to avoid Bulma at all costs. Thank Kami her father built him his beloved anti-gravity chamber. Vegeta narrowed his eyes and waited for her to leave. She didn’t. She stood there, paralyzed like a deer caught in a headlight.
Bulma blinked stupidly. She hated Vegeta with a passion, but she felt almost attracted to him. Perhaps it was his body that turned her on? She had to admit his build would put even the best of bodybuilder’s to shame. Damn it! Why did saiyan men have to be so attractive and such assholes at the same time (Son-kun being the only exception)?
Vegeta frowned. He now understood what had come over the human female. He had seen her behave this way around that weakling, Yamucha, before. A smirk creased across his broad face. ‘Oh this is priceless,’ he thought, ‘I think I’ll have some fun with this.” With that, he reached up to Bulma’s right arm and pulled her to him.
“V-Vegeta, please…” pleaded Bulma. She didn’t like the look on his face. It even scared her. She watched as he raised his left arm and pulled her nose into the sweaty pit. “So you like the aroma of my sweat?” she heard him say, “Smell all you like!” He laughed.
Bulma blushed as she felt her nipples harden. She tried to remove herself from Vegeta’s grip, but he was much too strong for her. All she could do was pray that he wouldn’t hurt her.
“Had enough?” Vegeta asked, pulling her back up so her face met his. He laughed at the sight of her erect nipples. Keeping a good hold on her with one hand, he took his other to Bulma’s left breast and gave it a squeeze.
Bulma slapped him across the face. “How dare you taunt me, you arrogant asshole!” she screamed. “I hate you!”
“I hate you too!” Vegeta lashed back. He let Bulma fall to the floor and headed toward the kitchen door. He went to off to bathe. Thank Kami Dr. Briefs had given him a much better guestroom than the one he stayed in during the first night. This new one had a bathroom where he could bathe in privacy.
Vegeta slipped into a black silk robe Mrs. Briefs had bought him. “That damn woman is crazy,” he told to his own reflection in a mirror, “But at least she has good taste in fashion. I guess something has to compensate for her lack of brains!” He shrugged and started brushing his hair, a thousand strokes in all with a soft bristle brush. Next to the prince’s pride and heritage, his hair was his most prized possession. Nomatter how many battles he had been in, he always saw to it that his raven blocks remained soft and glossy.
“Vegeta,” Bulma’s voice came from outside.
Narrowing his eyes, the prince yelled, “Go away, Woman! I’m busy!”
“No! I need to talk to you. My parents are going to a dinner party tonight.”
Vegeta opened the door, but appeared annoyed with her presence. “A dinner party, eh?” he asked, “And what has that to do with me?”
Bulma sighed. “Look, my parents invited you to come along. I’m not overly enthusiastic with the idea, but you had better be on your best behaviour or else this!” She showed him a flat metallic disc with a red button in the center.
“What in the hell is that little toy of yours?” Vegeta snorted.
“This little thing?” Bulma mused. “Why it’s nothing more than the detonator to a bomb I hid inside your gravity room.”
Vegeta snorted. “Liar!” he snarled.
Bulma mustered up the courage to flick him on the nose. “Oh you think?” she laughed, “Just try me, Prince. Step out of line and your precious training facility goes bye-bye. Shall I demonstrate?” Her fingers stroked the detonator.
“I loath you with a passion, Woman!” hissed Vegeta between teeth, “Fine! I’ll go. Not like I have anything else to do in this hell hole.”
Bulma gave a sigh of relief. “Okay. Now that’s settled, my mom wants to see you.”
A cold shiver ran down Vegeta’s spine. “Why?”
“For your suit fitting, Stupid!” Bulma yelled, “Everyone always dresses up. Now go!”
“Whatever…” Vegeta muttered between teeth. He jumped out the window and flew up five stories to Mrs. Briefs’ parlor. A normal person would have just taken one of the numerous elevators, but a saiyan like Vegeta could care less. But the Briefs family was used to his habits. Mrs. Briefs pushed the glass pane, allowing the prince entry. He sat landed on the thick fuchsia carpeting with arms crossed. Mrs. Briefs was ecstatic to see him as usual, and attacked the saiyan with hugs and kisses.
“Veggie-chan!!!” she cooed.
Vegeta pried her off. “Ditz!” he snarled.
Unaffected, Mrs. Briefs pulled out a tuxedo from nowhere. “Mr. Briefs usually wears black, but I think this white will compliment your hair, Sweetheart. Don’t you think so?”
Last edited by
Karrit on Thu Jul 31, 2008 11:16 pm, edited 1 time in total.
