The woman placed her hand beneath his shoulder and yanked at him, tried to pull him upright. "What the hell are you made of? How are you this heavy?" she grunted, trying again.
He sat up. Escape was pointless now that she'd seen him in this pitiful state. The world swayed dramatically as he sat up and he gripped the banister next to him to steady himself. He broke it and swore in Saiyan. "I'm fine. I…I…I thought you'd left," he muttered.
"I did, I told you I was going to get you more food," she said, and tried to pull him to his feet. "Seriously? Can I run a scan on your body? Your weight defies physics."
"You can do whatever you wish with me," drunk Vegeta said and in the deep recesses of his mind, sober Vegeta cringed.
She laughed and said, "Right now I would like to feed you. Come on. Maybe you've just been hangry the past three years."
"What?" he said, stumbling up to his feet, staggering inside to his bedroom.
"Hangry—so hungry that you're angry," she said, placing a pointless hand on his lower back, but it thrilled him anyway. Once they were in his room, out of the rain, she said, "Here, come on, get out of this, you're soaking wet," and started unbuttoning his shirt.
"Stop doing that, woman," Vegeta said, and seized both her hands. She looked into his eyes. Vegeta held her hands, he never wanted to let them go.
She whispered, "I…I brought a capsule of food. Will you at least go change so you're dry? I don't know if Saiyans can get sick—"
"We can't. Not like that," Vegeta said. He willed himself to let go of her hands. He could hear the way her heart raced but smelled no arousal, so she was only afraid of him. Not excited by his touch. He dropped his hands down, holding hers, and reluctantly released them. He stripped his shirt off as he weaved his way into the closet, dropping his sopping shorts in the small room.
"Woman, does my attire matter?" he slurred, leaning on the built in drawers.
"No, I don't—"
"What the hell!" Vegeta screeched, the woman was in the closet again but he was naked. Vegeta didn't cringe away or hide, he wasn't ashamed of his body. He didn't particularly care if she saw him at this point, he wanted her badly enough that if he got hard under her gaze, so be it, maybe she would take pity on him. He was horny enough and drunk enough to accept a pity fuck.
"Sorry!" she yelped and turned her back. He didn't know what to make of the fact that she didn't leave. "Sorry! I didn't know you were naked!"
"You told me to change my clothes!"
"I…sorry. I was also worried you would fall. You're pretty unsteady."
"I'll survive a fall. Are you going to dress me again? Hmm?" he said, rather more teasingly than he'd intended.
She said, "Pajamas are probably the best option, given how drunk you are."
Vegeta was positive that she turned and glanced at him. "There's special clothing for drunkenness?"
"No, just pajamas since you're probably going straight to bed after you eat, right?"
"I'll teach you to fly. You're not escaping just because of your clever trap," he said with a snort.
He caught her sneak a look at him as she snapped, "I didn't trap you! What's that supposed to mean?"
Vegeta teetered toward her. Vegeta's sober mind screamed for him not to do what drunk Vegeta was contemplating. He leaned on a shelf close enough to her that if she shifted her weight, her back would touch his chest. Her breathing was fast now.
He leaned forward so his mouth was almost on her ear and whispered, even managing not to slur, "I think you intended to intoxicate me, woman."
She turned over her shoulder, not moving her body, much to Vegeta's chagrin. She said, "What reason could I possibly have for getting you drunk?"
"To keep me from teaching you to fly…you're afraid," he purred, his lips a hair's breadth from touching the shell of her ear.
"I'm not afraid of you, Vegeta. And I'm certainly not afraid you'll be a good teacher. You lose your temper too easily. You get frustrated and give up on practically anything that presents even the slightest difficulty. You don't even try for the things you want because you're the one who's afraid. You're so afraid of failing, you don't try," she hissed at him.
Vegeta's ego howled. He hated how right she was. Hated the implication of the words. She knew that he wanted her, and knew that he was too big a coward to tell her. He breathed slowly to keep ahold of himself. "Yes, you're right. Sensible fear has kept me alive my whole life. It's a hard habit to break. But I'm not afraid to teach you. You're a quick learner," he murmured and stepped away from her. He bent and picked up his shirt, held it over his dick.
"You could be too, if you weren't such a stubborn ass," she said, and added, "Do you not know what pajamas are?"
"I am unfamiliar with the word," he slurred, "I'm somewhat decent if you'd like to pick something out."
She turned toward him. Her eyes raced over his body, as they often did. Vegeta had no doubt that the woman found at least his body appealing, and most humanoid species had. There wasn't much to complain about in that regard, except perhaps his height, which hadn't been a problem until he encountered the Earth standard of taller males. Amongst Saiyans his form and even his height were considered quite pleasing in a mate.
Faces were arbitrary and what each person found attractive was merely a matter of taste, so he had no idea how she felt about his face. But Vegeta didn't want just her body. He wanted all of her. He wanted her to be his mate. To be her mate.
"What do you sleep in if you haven't been wearing pajamas? Your training clothes?" she asked, her eyes meeting his, but darting down, perhaps even against her will, as her cheeks flushed prettily.
"Humans sleep in clothes? Even when not at war?"
"Yeah, well, mostly. They're comfortable clothes just for sleeping or lounging around. So you've been sleeping in your training gear?"
"Of course not, that would be filthy. I sleep nude. I'm shocked to hear that isn't the norm amongst a species that primarily wages war with machines, not their own strength. Clothing for sleeping," Vegeta said and started laughing. The laughter, like the crying, seemed to engulf all the absurdity of the evening, and he couldn't stop. Gods he was drunk. And naked. So close to the woman. He leaned on a shelf again with his free hand, still cupping the shirt over his cock for the woman's sake. "It's just so absurd to sleep in clothes!" he said as he tried to regain his composure. When he looked up over his shoulder, the woman was ogling his ass. He flexed it and smirked at her. Her eyes darted up and her cheeks' faint blush turned crimson.
She stammered, "I…well…some people sleep naked—"
"But not you, I take it," Vegeta said, pushing himself back upright so his ass wasn't distracting her.
"No. Not me. Usually. Only. You know, sometimes, after…after…afterwards," she spluttered. He rarely flustered the woman. This was intriguing.
"After what?" he said, shifting the shirt to his other hand, curious if her eyes would drop to try to catch a glimpse of his prick. They did. Vegeta smirked.
She collected herself. He liked to watch her do this when they argued. It was the way she went into battle and it turned him on so much that he considered moving the shirt so she could watch exactly what she did to him. She said, "After sex, obviously. Don't aliens fuck naked?"
"When convenient, but sometimes aliens fuck at war, so it's a rather more time-constrained event. But yes, I certainly preferred to fuck in such a way that I could enjoy all of my partner's body. Taste it. Touch it," Vegeta said and his eyes moved down the curves of her lovely body. "But fucking in full armor has its own appeal."
"Have you…" the woman started to speak but trailed off.
"No," Vegeta said, assuming she intended to ask if he'd fucked anyone on Earth. He felt validated as her eyebrows drew together and she frowned. Maybe a pity fucking wasn't out of the question. "Are you going to pick out my clothes? Or shall I teach you in the nude?"
She picked a pair of pants in a heather-gray color. She chose a simple blue t-shirt. Both were soft, supple fabrics. He turned, dropped his cock covering, and pulled on the pants with his ass out for her entertainment. The pants were unfortunately baggy except at the waist, where they were elastic. He tugged on the shirt, and it fit nicely, clinging to his arms and torso. He staggered out of the closet. He seemed to be getting drunker by the minute, rather than less drunk. Worrisome.
She popped a capsule and a glorious amount of food appeared on a table right next to his bed. His eyes darted to hers, unsure what the etiquette of eating was when it was clear she was not hungry. He said, "May I?" and gestured at the food.
"Of course, that's why I brought it. I'm stuffed. I tried to bring enough that I could gauge how much you eat, but if you're still hungry afterwards, I can get more."
Vegeta tried to eat like a creature with opposable thumbs. Although he hunted, it meant that the non-meat portion of his diet had been sorely lacking for the past three years, as there wasn't enough undisturbed vegetation to forage for fruits, funguses, roots, and other edibles. Having a decent spread of food grown in order to be food was incredible. He ate ravenously, not even daring to look at the woman for fear he saw disgust on her face. Not that her disgust would have slowed him down.
He'd eaten every last morsel and hoped his drunkenness would relent, but it didn't. "Oh, gods, woman, thank you," he said and fell backward onto his bed, as close to ecstasy as he could be without fucking her.
She climbed on the bed and sat next to him with crossed legs and looked down at him. "Why didn't you just tell me you've been hungry?"
Vegeta raised drunk eyebrows and whispered, "It's shameful, how dependent I am on you. I don't wish to be any more of a burden than I already am." Still drunk and honest. Not a scrap of dignity in drunk Vegeta.
"Vegeta…if someone you liked was stuck on Vegetasei, but had nowhere to stay, would you take them in?"
"Yes, though I like very few people," he said warily, unsure where she was going. His mind was sluggish and soupy feeling. The bed spun beneath him.
She leaned on an arm to loom over him more. Her breasts pressed together nicely, her scent was delicious, and her leg was almost touching his hip. The woman was torturing him, being on his bed like this. She looked into his eyes. "If you found out, after a long time, that the hospitality you provided this person had been causing them misery, that it had been inadequate, how would you feel?"
"Ashamed. Disgraced. But I had a palace. Servants. Essentially infinite resources. It's different for you. You're not royalty," he said, grudgingly seeing her point, but still ashamed of himself.
"Being super rich is as close to royalty as a person can get in this country. And I am super rich. Basically infinite resources. So don't be a jackass. If you're hungry, ask for more food. You don't need to hunt, for fuck's sake. Once I have idea of how much you eat, then I can stock up appropriately. I think we should put a fridge in your room. And you can always go with me to the store or we can order what you need or want."
He whispered, "I hate it. I hate being a burden."
"You're not a burden. And for better or worse, you're stuck here, Vegeta. I don't know how long the spaceship will take. I want to finish it for you so if, and only if, you want to leave Earth, you can. But you're also welcome to stay. Forever, if you like. I can't imagine all that you've lost in your life, Vegeta, but…maybe…maybe you can finally have a home."
Vegeta stared into her eyes while the rest of the world shifted and swayed. Her fathomless blue eyes were steady. They were like an anchor. Vegeta slurred, "I think I can start teaching you to fly. Maybe that will be something I can give you."
She shrugged. "You don't need to give me anything. Though I wish you'd just talk to me instead of being ridiculous. You could have been eating well for the past three years. I can't believe I had to get you drunk to get you to tell me you're hungry."
He smirked and said, "So you did get me drunk on purpose!"
"No, I didn't. I just wanted to talk to you. You're always so surly when stuff is wrong with the GR and dinner with my parents seems to render you incapable of anything more than single syllable answers. I know you said people don't date out there, but aren't you…aren't you lonely sometimes, even a little? You train alone. You eat alone during the day. You spend your evenings alone. I just…aren't Saiyans…social…creatures?"
Drunk Vegeta fielded the question before sober Vegeta could find something witty to say, "Of course I'm fucking lonely. Horribly. I've been here three fucking years. I was alone in a pod with only a scouter for company for over a year before that, and on top of that…" Vegeta's hand flew to his mouth. What was he saying? He needed to stop letting her see this side of him. The weakness and the pathetic neediness. It seemed drunk Vegeta was determined to get at least some kind of pity, if not a pity fuck.
His eyes stung and he continued in a weak voice, "I don't…I don't see how that's relevant to…to talk of hospitality."
The woman sighed and stood. She said, "It's relevant because if you're stuck here somewhat indefinitely, I thought maybe, at some point, you might want to let someone in. How many more years do you want to feel this way?"
"What way?" he asked, but he knew. He pushed himself up on the bed, which was an unfortunate choice. Her breasts were right there, face height. He thought it would be so comforting to just press his nose into her cleavage and smell her, above and beyond any sexual pleasure it would bring him.
"Alone. Lonely."
Vegeta swayed upright, face to face with her. He snarled, "What alternative is there? I find everything here confusing and the customs make no sense no matter how many books I read, how many movies I watch, how much music I listen to, I still feel like exactly what I am—an alien! An impostor. A fucking fool, most of the time!"
She poked him in the chest, "See! I told you, you're afraid!"
"Of course I am, haven't you listened to anything I've said? I'm terrified of a lifetime like this, but you say I don't try? Bullshit! I've been trying. I keep trying to learn. I keep trying to understand this miserable planet. I keep trying to figure out a way to get my money here, in Earthling currency so I can stop being a parasite. I keep trying to…to…to…" he trailed off. He was shouting at her. He'd been about to say, he'd been trying to earn her affections, but that wasn't true exactly, and he was too drunk to lie. Even admitting that he hoped for them felt like a lie when he had nothing to offer her.
She leaned to the side to find his eyes when he looked away from her. "Hey," she touched his chin lightly to tip his face to look at her. "Vegeta, look, I can't imagine, I really can't. And you actually do a pretty good job of acting like you've just stepped into life here like it was no big deal. You're an asshole, but I kind of think that might be how you were before—"
"Oh, absolutely," he said with a smirk.
"So…you're doing great. But…well…you're drunk right now, so I'm not going to push you. But at some point, it might be worth…dropping your walls, just a little. I get the impression you've managed at least once in the past, so maybe you can do it again. But for tonight I think you should just drink a lot of water and go to bed."
"I'm fine. Drunk. But fine. I…I shouldn't have yelled at you. There will be no danger during your flying lessons this early on, so me being drunk only means I'll be ungainly."
"Okay," she said softly. She glanced outside. "It's still pouring. You want to do it in here?"
Vegeta's cheeks flushed, envisioning her toppling out of the air onto his bed, finding herself suddenly hungry for him, but…the fantasy was too absurd, the best he could hope for was an hour or two of her company. An hour or two reprieve from his loneliness. He wished she hadn't stirred up the things that he'd buried. They were loose now, unpredictable, and he'd endured enough humiliation and shame for one evening, he couldn't handle more.
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