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Pillow Talk

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They fell back against her wrinkled sheets, basking in the wet silence for a long moment. This was the moment Bulma had been waiting for; if she waited too long he'd just get up and go to his room wordlessly like he'd been doing for the last month.

She hadn't minded that at first. Their first time had been the result of a huge argument over him yelling at her father over the Gravity Room. It was incredibly fun, but when it was over she felt pretty awkward. She hadn't known what to say and was relieved when he just left. Honestly she'd been surprised when he came back the next night looking for more.

During the day not much had changed between them. They crossed paths occasionally, snipping at each other or managing to be civil. No one knew he snuck into her room for about an hour each night, and neither of them seemed keen on divulging the information.

Still, a full month of one night stands was weird. She was fine with staying casual but… she was starting to feel a little used. He'd show up, take what he wanted, and bounce. Well, it wasn't like he left her high and dry. He was the only man she'd been with who not only made sure she finished every night, but seemed to take it personally. One night she'd been more tired than she expected and decided to fake one, and he'd known immediately. He'd narrowed his eyes at her, dragged her to the edge of the bed, and did things with his tongue that she didn't even know were possible. She came hard that night, twice for good measure, and then he'd left afterward with a smirk on his face.

But now she wanted more. It's not like she wanted a relationship or a commitment, just a conversation would be nice. She felt him shift and knew he was getting ready to leave.

“What are you saying?”

He froze. “Hmm?”

“During sex. You start talking but I don't speak the language. What are you saying?”

He shrugged. “It's Saiyago.”

“No shit, Sherlock, I didn't think you spoke Portuguese or something. What's the translation?”

“Pointless things. You're one to talk, you chatter incessantly when you're being fucked.”

She snorted.


“Wow, what a sweet-talker. You couldn't use a more romantic word?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You mean 'fuck’? That makes you uncomfortable? You didn't seem uncomfortable with the concept ten minutes ago when you were bent over--”

“Ugh, nevermind, I don't know why I wanted to talk to you.”

“Why did you want that?”

“It's what people do, Vegeta,” she rolled her eyes. “You have sex and then you talk to each other in bed.”

“That sounds ridiculous. Unless you're comparing notes to make the next time more enjoyable.”

She sighed, crossing her arms. “Just go. I'll see you tomorrow.”

He got out of her bed and stretched, pulling his sweatpants and tank top back on to head back to his room. He paused with his hand on the door knob, and then turned back to her. “On Vegetasei, after a rut, two Saiyans would wrap their tails together from end to end.”

She stared at him. “ Sorry, Buddy, I don't have a tail.”

He snorted. “Neither do I, anymore. That's not my point. It was a sign of respect -- not necessary for the act itself, but appreciated. Is that what this bed discussion is for humans?”

“It’s called pillow talk,” she said, “and, yeah. I guess. Otherwise it's just wham-bam-thank you, Ma'am. It means you have more in common than just being physically compatible.”

He considered this for a moment. “Does it make the sex better for you?”

“Not this time, but I guess it makes me want to do it more the next time.”

“Very well. I can stand a few minutes of banal conversation after fucking if it means you want to continue our nightly arrangement.”

“Can you just say sex? All the 'fucking’ and 'rutting’ bullshit makes me feel like an animal.”

He smirked. “Isn't that part of the fun? Goodnight, Woman.”

She nodded dropping back to the pillow. Hey, progress was progress.



Cora te'lo” he moaned, his fingers tight around her hips as she rode him. “ Kasesho!”

She wondered vaguely what that meant, but didn't much care at the moment. She was supporting herself with her knees as she ground down onto him, one hand rubbing herself as she approached the edge.

Kasesho!” He repeated. “Faster!”

Ah, now that she could work with. She picked up speed and he groaned, muttering unknown words under his breath and running his hands up her body. The switch flipped and she cried out, riding out her peak. When he was sure she was done he rolled them over, taking only a minute to reach the end himself.

He dropped down next to her, taking a moment to get his breath steady. “Okay, Woman. Talk.”

“What a charmer,” she rolled her eyes.

“I assume you have extensive experience in this, and I do not. So if you want it to happen--”

“Excuse me?” She spat. “Did you just call me a slut?”

“I don't know what that word means, so I'm fairly sure I didn't use it.”

“The hell do you mean, ‘extensive experience’? You think I've had that much sex?”

He seemed to consider that carefully. “I believe you've had more partners than me.”

She crossed her arms. “What do you know, I'm all ‘bed-discussioned’ out. Get the hell out.”

“You are the first I've taken to bed.”

She paused, waiting for him to laugh at his joke. After a long moment the anger on her face melted. “Are you serious?”

He grunted, looking a little annoyed. Embarrassed? “I believe I've made up well for my lack of experience, if your constant moaning is any indication--”

“No, you've been great,” she cut him off. “That's why I don't believe you. I mean, ‘badass deadly space pirate’ is the main character of like four romance novels I've read. How could you be a virgin when you got to Earth?”

“I've been a soldier in Frieza's army since I was six. Did he strike you as the kind to permit personal recreation time?”

“No shoreleave for planet destroyers, huh? That sucks. Still, there had to be some funny business going on around that ship, you don't just convince hundreds of beings to stop having sex just because they work for you.”

“Of course, there was plenty of fraternizing.”

“But not for you?”

“Did you see anyone appealing among Frieza's henchmen?”

She cleared her throat, deciding not to mention how she'd been attracted to Zarbon before he hulked out on them. “Nah.”

“Besides, I'm the Prince of All Saiyans. Everyone on that ship was beneath me.”

“And I'm not?”

He looked her over appraisingly. “Your father is well respected and wealthy. You seem to be the closest thing to a princess this planet had to offer.”

“Aw, that was almost a compliment.”

“Take it as you like. In any case I've enjoyed our arrangement. You're more attractive than Dodoria, that's for damn sure.”

She laughed. “For the record, two. Two men, counting you. I'm no Casanova either.”

“And you engaged in ‘pillow talk’ with the other male as well?”

“Meh. Yamcha and I really only did it a handful of times, we were always breaking up and getting back together, or he was off training alone. He usually fell asleep right after.”

“He made you come to his chamber? Classless human.”

“No, we were in my room usually.”

Vegeta looked confused. “You mean he fucked you and then slept in your bed? Where did you sleep?”

“Uh, next to him?” She answered. “Where else?”

He raised his eyebrows, scoffing. “Humans are strange.”

“It's strange that we slept in the same bed? Why?”

“You're most vulnerable while asleep. Saiyans sleep alone.”


“Whenever it's an option. If you're in a combat zone of course you need to find a close ally to watch your back, or you stay awake until you're in a safe place.”

“Oh. Humans sleep together sometimes. Especially after sex.”



“I don't know that word, either.”

“Shocking. So, 'cash-say-so’. That means faster?”

Kasesho. You're butchering it. But, yes.”

“Cool. I'm going to learn an alien language, dirty hooked-on-phonics style.”

“I understand most English, but only about eighty percent of what you say. You speak strangely.”

“I've had that complaint before,” she admitted.

He yawned, sitting up. “I need sleep. I will see you at breakfast.”

“Goodnight,” she nodded, feeling less annoyed than before to see him go. So, Saiyans never slept with their partners. That made her feel slightly better; now she knew it wasn't her personally that sent him running after he finished, that was just normal to him. She slept a little easier.



Bulma had been creating a file in her mind titled ‘things I know about Vegeta’, and compared to other things she'd studied it was a quick read. Saiyan Prince from a blown up planet, killed a lot of people, doesn't particularly care if the Earth is destroyed… pretty damn good in bed. Tonight she got to add a new piece of information. If he felt challenged during the day, then when night fell he liked it hard.

She didn't think it had mattered that much to him, to be honest. The Z fighters all gathered together around noon to discuss the androids on their way and to compare how training was going. That had quickly turned to wanting to prove how training was going, and they'd started sparring. Naturally Vegeta wanted to go up against Goku. Their match was cut short when Chichi showed up, demanding her husband and son get home from what was supposed to be a quick meeting. In the short time they did get to fight...Goku was clearly winning. She'd seen the rage and frustration build in his eyes and he left the compound to be alone, but he still showed up in her room at their normal time.

She was bent over on the bed with him behind her, holding onto the mattress for dear life while he slammed into her. He was muttering more alien words she couldn't catch, with the occasional curse in English. She was moaning louder than she meant to, screaming really, and that just seemed to fuel him more.

Kaza’ti nos krovos, Bulma,” he growled out. Then in a voice she thought he probably didn't know she could hear, “fucking mine.

She ignored that; she'd said some weird things in the heat of the moment too.

When they were finished he laid next to her, obviously still in a bad mood but calmer. She wasn't really expecting a discussion tonight, not with his anger still burning so hot she could feel it, but he spoke anyway.

“Are you still fucking the Weakling?”

“Yamcha?” She asked. “No. We broke up a few weeks before you and I did it the first time.”

“Good.” He paused a long time. “I am not currently seeking out any other females.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, trying to understand his point. 

“I would prefer it if we kept it that way.”

“You're asking me not to have sex with anyone else?”

“And I would reciprocate. I've no way of knowing what diseases you can catch from Earthlings and have no desire to find out.”

She thought it over. “Alright. It's not like I had any plans on jumping anyone else in the near future.”

“If you decide to take a partner just give me warning so I know our arrangement is over. I'll do the same.”

“Deal,” she nodded.

He grunted approvingly. “Besides, if you bear any children I'd want to know with certainty that I was their sire.”

She blanched. “Uh, happy on birth control, Buddy, thanks.”

He frowned. “You have control over your children's birth? Do all human women?”

“It's a pill. Medicine,” she clarified. “I take one a day and it stops me from getting pregnant.”

“Oh,” he said. He hid it well but she saw the slight look of relief on his face.

“What? Why do you look like you just got a stay of execution?”

“I thought perhaps I was incapable. We've been fucking for two months and you still have no child, so it was most likely a failing on my part. I'm relieved to hear that's not the case.”

“Failing? You wanted a kid?”

“Gods, no,” he grimaced, “but I did not know there was another option. There was no 'birth control’ on Vegetasei. If you give in and take a woman there is a chance you will make an heir you have to provide for until they're grown. I've given in...several dozens times now, so I assumed your pregnancy was inevitable.”

She shivered. “I don't plan on bringing some poor kid into this mess, what with the androids coming.”

“That's wise of you.”

“You were doing well today. I know Goku--”

“Goodnight,” he snapped, sliding out of the warmth of her bed to leave for his cold one.



“But what is it?” He insisted, turning the card over in his hand.

“It's a celebration,” she said, sitting up against the pillows. “Let me guess, ‘ Saiyans don't waste their precious time with useless celebrations’” she growled out in an imitation of his gravelly voice.

“We celebrate victory. Life and death. Did someone die, or succeed in battle?”

“No, you dork. I mean, we celebrate life and death too with funerals and birthday parties, but humans agree on a few days out of the year to just celebrate because we want to. They're called holidays, and Christmas is a big one.”

“I am not human, I've not agreed to it.”

“That's why Mom sent you the personal invite, probably. She's a little scatterbrained sometimes, but she likes you and wants to include you.”

“Seems pointless.”

“To you, maybe, but not to her. Can you just show up? I know it'll make her day.”

“You're asking me to come? As a personal favor?”

“I suppose so.”

“Very well, but I get to collect on that favor when it suits me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Figures. Few months in and the kinky stuff comes out.”

He chuckled. “Perhaps. I haven't decided yet.”

The snow falling outside her window had become more persistent than it was before he came into the room, and the wind blew louder. She crawled out of bed and went to close the window, pausing to grab her robe off a chair on the way back.

“Don't cover yourself,” he frowned. “I enjoy looking at you, afterwards. Your skin stays red and blotched for hours, it's a pleasant sight.”

“Too bad, it's cold in here and you're not the cuddling type.”

“What does cuddling mean?”

She shrugged. “You know, it's when you press all close against each other afterward.”

“For body warmth?”

“That can be part of it, I guess.”

“That's agreeable,” he said, lying on his side and holding out his arms.

She looked at him warily, slowly setting her robe back down and crawling into bed. She curled up against him and leaned her head down on his bicep. His thick arms wrapped behind her back, pulling her tight against him.

“There. Are you warm?”

“Getting there,” she muttered against his skin. He was more comfortable than she had expected. Where she expected hard muscle there was soft give, and she was getting sleepier.

“I wish I still had my tail,” he murmured. His voice was low, as though he thought she may have fallen asleep and didn't want to wake her.

“Why do Saiyans care so much about their tails? I know they help you turn into giant monkeys--

“Oozaru,” he huffed indignantly. “And they are more than that. They are a sense of identity. They indicate social status, age, emotions, and a thousand other things humans wouldn't understand.”

“Goku got rid of his. He said it was a weakness.”

“Kakarot is not a real Saiyan. I'd bet he held his tail out like a small child and left it vulnerable. They're incredibly sensitive.”

Bulma fought with an idea, then decided to go for it and let him be angry if he wanted to be. She slid her hand down his back and found the stub where his tail had been, massaging it firmly.

He jumped and she heard the the beginning sound of a protest spring from his lips, but then he paused. A deep throaty sigh rumbled from his chest, almost a purr, and he held still for her hand, eyes closing blissfully. “That's pleasant.”

Bulma rubbed the rough spot for him, closing her eyes and letting herself drift a little. A low rumble came to her ears after a few minutes and she looked at his face. The normally harsh lines were smoothed out and peaceful, and his breath was slow and even. She closed her eyes again, letting herself fall asleep pressed against him.

When she woke up hours later he was gone, and her bed was cold.