Hooooooow?

How had he ended up in this situation? Why did he agree to it? Why was he keeping to it? No, really, what the actual fuck?

Vegeta curled his fingers on top of the buttery soft 1200 thread-count sheets and stared at the closed door to the connecting bathroom. Sweat prickled his skin despite having already taken off his top. That had felt… appropriate. But he couldn't bring himself to disrobe any further.

He still couldn't wrap his mind around what he had agreed to do. With her.

The handle turned, and his Adam's apple bobbed as the door opened.

Bulma was in a pink plaid robe and very little else. It hugged rounded hips and a swelling bust, leaving slender legs and the dainty dip of her clavicle bare. Messy blue curls had been brushed, balancing that fine line between wild yet stylish in a way that embodied the woman herself. He wondered if her hair would feel as soft as her sheets. Would he even be permitted to touch it?

She approached with a blush on her cheeks and a fierce scowl that contradicted her halting steps. Most days she moved like a storm, hips swaying with a confidence that crippled cities as she swept through. But she wasn't feeling confident now, and he — for once — could sympathize. If he hoped she might have a change of heart, it was dashed the moment he looked into her eyes and saw the determination in their cerulean depths.

"Okay Vegeta, we've gotta do this."

Fuck.

Right, the future. He was still struggling to remember how the hell she had convinced him to go ahead with this plan. The goddamn woman was smart, getting under his skin, needling his pride when it became obvious that guilting him wouldn't work. No. Vegeta couldn't give a fuck about 'morality' or 'the good of human kind'. Ha! What a joke. But the moment she started goading him, had asked if he was afraid, oh. That he couldn't let go.

She knew it. He knew it. Still he fell for it, hook line and sinker. Now he was sitting on her bed in sweat pants that felt far too flimsy, with her stood in front of him, hands fussing at the ties of a robe even flimsier, and he didn't know what to fucking think.

Thinking. It was getting him in trouble of late. Some nights when he lay awake and stared up at the ceiling, refusing to think of a bitter past, he thought instead about a future not his own. Kakarot's fucking loud-mouth had seen to that, revealing the Boy From the Future's identity and with it, killing Vegeta's ability to ever feel comfortable in the same room as the earth woman again.

They'd had a child. It was mind-boggling.

What the fuck had led his alternative self to procreate with her? A biological desire? A foolish slip? A scientific experiment? He would never know, that avenue lost to him now. All he got were awkward blushes and questioning looks he could never decipher.

Looks that tried to crack his outer shell and see the man beneath, looks he deflected with a heavy scowl and back turned.

Long looks from under blue lashes that burned across his skin stronger than any sun.

Looks that came with a smile dancing at the corners of her mouth and her crinkling blue eyes, tugging on his gut and making him almost — almost — want to return it before he got himself under control and fled her infernal magic.

Looks filled with an echoing loneliness when she cupped his cheeks before embracing him on the balcony that one night he had let his frustrations and failures get the best of him and, foolishly, allowed her to comfort him. Is that how it had happened in that alternative timeline? He had left her shortly after, too humiliated to look at her for days. But had his other-self stayed and pushed his fingers into her blue locks as he so desperately wanted to? Pressed his lips to her mouth and marched her towards his bed?

Had alternate-him seen more than just her inherent beauty? Had he noticed how cunning she was? How she could wrap anyone around her little finger, him included? That she, without hardly trying, could make technology which Frieza would have traded Zarbon for. Or that she could make you feel like you were the center of the universe when turning her full crystal-blue attention upon you.

Like she did now.

The ties came apart, and the robe whispered like lover's fingers down her delicate shoulders. Helplessly his gaze followed and caught on her feminine figure.

His throat went dry.

"Re-ready?"

No. Yes.

Fuck.

He nodded.

~xox~

AN: based on okebtrash's image of an AU idea where Goku spills the beans on who Trunks is, and so Bulma and Vegeta have to set up a date to conceive Trunks. Awwwwww~kward XD

https: SLASH SLASH okebtrash DOT tumblr DOT COM /post/179068222579/au-concept-what-if-goku-accidentally-let-slip