Vegeta kissed the woman deeply, her mouth opening immediately for him. The woman's tongue slipped into Vegeta's mouth and he stifled a groan. Her hands wrapped over his shoulders from underneath, pulling his chest tight against her as she fell back against the wall. Vegeta willed himself not to rock his hips against her and scare her off. The woman obviously had issues with sex and he couldn't just start rutting on her, despite the fact that she was an animal in heat. She smelled so fuckable, so fucking delicious, that it was all he could do not to devour her.
He made himself kiss her tenderly, gently, moving his lips and pulling at hers with his own. Her lips were soft and she tasted divine. He could taste the watermelon seltzer she'd had earlier, the sushi she'd eaten for lunch, the wasabi, the ginger, and underneath it all, the fucking fabulous taste of her. The woman's saliva tasted like his dreams. He breathed deeply of her skin, so close, as he encouraged her to open her mouth more, let him explore her.
The woman panted and clung to him like she would fall down if she let go of him. Vegeta liked that idea and worked hard not to smirk against her lips. He eased out of the kiss, not daring to continue for fear he tried to take too much. The sensual way the woman moved and the innuendos she dropped initially made Vegeta assume she was experienced and confident sexually. But since the incident with his books and her seeing him naked, he had started to suspect that she was inexperienced at best, maybe even scared of sex. Vegeta didn't want to ruin his long-term prospects as a mate for the short-term gain of getting his dick wet one time.
The woman's eyes snapped open as he released her mouth from his. Her cheeks were very flushed and she breathed like he had fucked her right into the next galaxy. It intrigued Vegeta that she responded this way to a simple kiss. He hadn't even touched her, except her face.
He searched her eyes and his thumb brushed over her swollen lips. "I do not admit defeat, woman. I'll get you flying yet. You're not a lost cause," he said and turned away from her. He stooped to pick up his shirt and adjusted his cock as he walked out onto the balcony. He gritted his teeth as he saw the woman had set up a picnic.
He was already at his limit with her. Spending another meal with her was not ideal at the moment. Between that morning's events, his chastising her, and then kissing her, he couldn't get his head straight. He shouldn't have kissed her. He sat and started inhaling food. He didn't know how to deal with what he'd done except to go about his life as if he hadn't just made such an enormous error in judgement and self-control. When he'd consumed enough calories to think clearly, he looked to see what she was doing, risking more eye contact.
The woman still stood where he'd left her, leaning against the wall. She touched her lips with her fingertips. Vegeta hoped he hadn't hurt her. He tried to be gentle, but she was no warrior, and humans were fragile. He hopped back to his feet and strutted over to her.
She looked completely awestruck. Her eyes were wide and far away. "Woman? Are you going to eat?" Vegeta asked.
Her eyes met his and she stammered, "I…yeah…oh, yeah, okay. Um, sure."
"Hurry up," Vegeta said and gestured for her to go before he demolished the rest of the food.
The woman settled on the blanket, leaning on her hip and resting on one arm as she absently put little morsels in her mouth, not looking at him.
"Are you alright?" Vegeta said, "Did I hurt you? I didn't think humans were that fragile."
She swung her head in his direction and her eyebrows crashed together. "I'm not fragile! You didn't hurt me! But…I…Why?"
"Why what?" Vegeta asked and dusted his hands off, finishing the last of the food that she hadn't taken. He was still starving, but he would just retreat to the gravity room to eat before bed and add more to the grocery order there.
"Why did you do that?" the woman asked, her eyes dancing back and forth between his.
He took a deep breath. "It won't happen again. It was foolish," he said and stood, offering his hand to help her up.
"That isn't what I meant, Vegeta," the woman said, and she refused his hand. She opened a large bottle and poured herself a small—ridiculously small—glass of the clear liquid. Vegeta could smell the alcohol in this type a mile away.
"Gods, woman, I see you've given up on subtlety and are just showing your hand this time in your attempt to get me inebriated. What is this one called?"
"Vodka. It's good. It's my hard liquor of choice," she said, nodding at the ground, indicating that he should sit again.
Like a well-trained dog, Vegeta did. He was not just a fool, but a pathetic fool. She handed him the thimble of a glass and clinked hers with his and swallowed it in one gulp. He followed suit. "Well, good is not how I'd describe it, but it's closer to my other experiences of alcohol. No real attempt to hide what it is. High alcohol percentage. I imagine they can make this 'vodka' out of just about anything that ferments," Vegeta said and held his minute glass out. The woman refilled it.
"He never raped me," the woman said.
Vegeta's eyebrows shot up. Was he meant to respond to that? What could he possibly say? Good job? That Vegeta was glad she avoided sexual assault by a potential mate? Congratulations on being courted by someone who wasn't a rapist, just a weakling and a twat? So many options, but all inappropriate, Vegeta felt certain. So he remained silent. Perhaps someone else had raped her. He'd known men like that too, the sort that would rape anything with an orifice that had the misfortune of crossing their paths. Vegeta's size meant a few of those despicable creatures lost their lives by his hand when they thought him a likely target.
The woman's eyes flitted up to his and away several times. He said, "Then I don't need to kill him again."
She half-smiled and blew a breath out her nose, shaking her head. "No, Vegeta, you don't need to murder Yamcha."
"Just as well, I hate repeating myself," Vegeta said, trying to cheer her up.
It worked to some extent, her smile broadened and a tiny laugh escaped her perfect lips. Gods, he wanted to kiss her right back on the blanket, touch every inch of her flawless skin. Slide his hand up under the soft looking red skirt she wore. The white blouse showed that tonight she had her breasts holstered, to his disappointment.
She looked down and ran her finger around the rim of her little glass. She said, "Why…hmm…what wounds did I rip open, Vegeta?"
"They're quite painful enough without you stabbing your elegant little fingers into them, woman. You've made your…position…on this clear. Let's get you off the ground. The sooner we do that, the sooner you can admit defeat and go back to whatever it is you did before you spent your time trying to pry me open like an oyster with a fetid sore instead of a pearl," Vegeta said, his voice harsher than he'd meant it to be, though he was irritated with her, if he was honest. How could he want her and be in love with her and yet wish to scream and shake her. He would never understand a single thing about humans. Or himself, maybe.
Vegeta took the bottle from her and poured a reasonable amount directly down his throat. The shame of having kissed her when she had no wish to share herself or her body with him burned more than the liquid. He stood again and said, "Come, get up, let's do this, woman. Your chi won't direct itself. Up."
"No," she said and slowly raised her eyes up to his.
"What the fuck? You don't get to declare victory simply by giving up as a pupil," he said and began to regret his decision with the vodka. It ripped through his blood like wildfire. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Not again," he said, the world beginning to swirl and shift under his feet. "How…how much…percentage…ethanol…woman?" Vegeta tried to be coherent.
The woman stood and said, "About forty percent. You just had enough to probably knock out a bigger man than you. A bigger human man, since you seem to have very poor tolerance for alcohol. Well. For anything, you surly asshole."
Vegeta looked her up and down. "Why're y'even still here?" He experimentally tried flying. Shit. Not good. Vegeta slurred, "Go 'way."
"I think you're probably going to throw up, you might want to make your way to the toilet," the woman said and leaned back on the balustrade.
Vegeta knew he wouldn't throw up. Saiyan stomachs allowed no time for that sort of thing. The vodka was gone, dispersed to his blood and organs, and most unfortunately, his brain. "Stop it," he said blearily and staggered over to the railing, but he remembered he'd broken it before. He hopped over the railing and fell gracelessly to the lawn below.
He heard the woman screech, "Vegeta! Holy shit!" She sounded very far away.
A few minutes later, she knelt beside him and he glared at her. "Go 'way, lea' me 'lone," he mumbled. The world tossed Vegeta around and he knew he wasn't teaching her anything that night. Cursed woman.
"Vegeta, for fuck's sake, do I need to call Goku to come carry you back to your room or can you stagger along with me?"
"Lea' me 'lone. Sleep here," Vegeta slurred. The idea of sleeping in the grass with the woman in his arms appealed to him, but he knew it would not appeal to her. Her human body wouldn't be able to handle it anyway without some sort of shelter, even with his heat. He could floof his chi around her. He wondered if she was cold now. He doubted it, she had changed into this combination of clothing since the library.
"Vegeta, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to tear open any wounds, but you can't keep getting drunk to avoid talking to me. It's not healthy," the woman said, resting her hand on his chest.
He narrowed his eyes at her and focused on speaking clearly, "I di' no' drin' to avoid you. I drin' to avoid mysel.'"
A little crease formed between the woman's eyebrows. She caressed his cheek. He wanted to blast her. He couldn't cope with her confusing signals any more. She said, "I don't know how to let you in, Vegeta. I'm not like you. Nothing in my life has been hard or scary or even trying. I'm rich and smart and pretty and my parents loved me and I've pretty much gotten everything I wanted in my entire life."
"So lea' me 'lone. You have ev'ything," Vegeta muttered and hauled himself to a seated position. It was clear he would have to evade her. He loathed himself. He loathed his life. He loathed Kakarot for going super Saiyan when Vegeta still hadn't managed despite what Kakarot had done. Vegeta propped his elbows on his knees and held his face in his hands.
He did not want to have another existential crisis with the woman as witness, but it seemed that alcohol brought him to his emotional knees. "Plea' lea' me 'lone," he pleaded. He needed her to leave because he wasn't sure he could get away from her effectively with as drunk as he was. Dangerously large sobs threatened, building in his chest like a tsunami rushing toward the shore.
The woman peeled his hands away from his face and held it. "I said pretty much," she whispered, "There's one thing I can't figure out how to get."
"Flying?" Vegeta offered, proud of his enunciation.
"No, you asshole, not flying, though that seems fun if you can stay sober long enough to teach me," she said.
He let his eyes rise up to meet hers and she rose up on her knees and leaned toward him. Vegeta's eyes widened with realization as her lips met his. Vegeta was already overcome with the sadness that battered him as the enormous wave of his stifled emotions made landfall. Tears spilled down his cheeks to his great humiliation. He kept his eyes closed tightly, unable to bear her reaction to this shame.
The kiss didn't end though. It kept happening and she scooted until she sat facing him. He panted against her lips as they kissed more. His sadness didn't recede, he was too drunk to control anything, but especially while she was shredding him into tattered little bits this way. Her mouth was all he wanted in the world in that moment. His tears became some weird mix of the bittersweet memories the woman and the alcohol had excavated, embarrassment that he was crying, and relief and joy that she was kissing him on her own initiative.
The woman twined her fingers in his hair and pulled him closer, while keeping the other on his face, gently brushing his tears away with her thumb. Vegeta hesitantly wrapped an arm around her spreading his hand flat on her upper back between her shoulder blades. The cloth of her shirt kept him from touching her skin, but it was just as well. He was in no state to do anything about his lust for her. Weepy kissing was as far as Vegeta would get this night, and if that didn't cure her of him, he had no idea how to interpret that.
She cupped his face with both hands as she pulled out of the kiss. She kissed his eyelids. She shifted, but didn't move out of his partial embrace. She moved her hands and trailed the back of her fingers over his cheekbones where more tears trailed down. He wanted to flee so he could let go.
She hugged him tightly. She pressed his face into the crook of her neck and whispered, "You don't need to hide from me, Vegeta."
Vegeta felt more sober from his blubbering, perhaps Saiyans cried out ethanol, being such maudlin drunks. He clutched her body and did something he'd only ever done with one other person in his entire life, and sobbed. He shook in her arms, ragged ugly sobs wracking his body like he was being beaten by his past.
She kissed his ear, his temple, and she murmured, "I'm here. I'm not going to leave you alone, Vegeta. I'm here. I'll be here," squeezing him, he supposed, with whatever force human arms could muster. "I'll be here whenever you want help carrying whatever weight is breaking you. There's no shame in needing help," she continued. She kissed his temple again, stroked his head, trailing her fingernails along his scalp.
Vegeta's ruthless drunk mind kept returning to the last time he'd been drunk. The last words he'd said. The last of so many things. Another choked sob escaped him. "But I am ashamed," Vegeta whispered, "Everything that I am, I'm ashamed of being. I deserve the void. I deserve nothing but the void. Run away from me, woman, I'm poison. I am the fucking void."
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