Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Bath Time ❯ Bath Time ( Chapter 1 )

Author's Note: Hey everyone! Just thought I would write a cute little story. I woke up one morning and this hit me and I just had to write it! Enjoy!

 

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Bath Time

 

 

Vegeta pressed the glowing green button that opened the sliding door and walked into the dimly lit room. He glanced around, his eyes touching things that would not have been there a few years ago. A larger bed, different blankets and sheets. The colors of the room had changed from feminine to neutral, Bulma had said it was because she didn't want him to feel odd or insulted living in a pink and purple room.

 

One of the two windows was open; the white unlacy curtains were pulled to the side and billowing in the cool night air against the white walls.

 

His eyes fell on one of the curtains that had become tangled on something against the wall. He stared at it for the briefest moment before he walked over and untangled the sheer fabric from his son's playpen.

 

His fingers touched the blue plastic material and he looked down inside the cushioned prison. There were stuffed toys everywhere inside, a discarded bottle still half-full and probably warm. A little blue blanket was stuffed in a corner.

 

Vegeta bent over and picked up the bottle, which was as he had guessed, warm. A look of distaste filtered across his features before he placed it on Bulma's side of the bed so she would get rid of it later. Sometimes she was so oblivious she hardly noticed if something like a warm bottle had been there for days and days. A thought briefly entered his mind and he hoped that she had never fed their son with one of those old, very warm things.

 

He sat down on her side of the bed with a heavy sigh, and began the process of undressing. He hadn't trained very hard that day, but he was sore in parts of his body as if he had. He worked the muscles in his right arm a moment to ease the ache, and then used both of his hands to rub his shoulders and neck to get out the kinks.

 

He was letting his chin rest against his chest with his eyes closed as his left hand continued to massage his neck when he heard a giggle. His tired eyes opened and he looked up, noticing for the first time that the bathroom door was slightly ajar and the light was on. He frowned as he heard another childish giggle, and then a much lighter, more feminine laugh with it.

 

Bulma.

 

A second later he heard the familiar sounds of water running in their enormous bathtub. Pleasant memories of that bathtub filtered through his mind, and he smiled at the mental images of him sitting between Bulma's legs as she rubbed his neck, shoulders, and back after several hard days of training. What usually transpired after that was also memorable as well.

 

He removed the rest of his clothing more hurriedly than he had originally planned, accidentally throwing his dirty tennis shoes clear across the room and into the wall. He flinched at the loud noise, hoping that she hadn't noticed. He wanted to take her by surprise.

 

Lecherous thoughts entered his mind and he smirked as he grabbed one of the several towels sitting on Trunks' diaper changing station. He wrapped the large, white fluffy cloth around his naked hips, a smirk still on his face as he pushed open the door.

 

Hot steam instantly bombarded him, but not so much as the image of his naked woman reclining in the luxurious tub...with Trunks in her lap.

 

He blinked, the heated thoughts dying a ghastly death at the sight of his two year-old son splashing madly in the water. Bulma hadn't noticed him yet, and she was smiling at the antics of the little boy making funny faces at the feeling of the warm water and splashing around heartily.

 

He didn't realize he made a sound when Trunks made a particularly large splash and completely soaked the pair in the tub. They both sputtered and Trunks began fussing because water was in his eyes and he couldn't see.

 

He guessed that he must have laughed or something, because Bulma looked over in his direction, instinct making her cover her bountiful chest as best as she could with her one free hand. Her face had already turned attractively pink at the thought of someone barging in on her, but when she saw that it was him, she immediately relaxed and uncovered herself with her small hand. He couldn't help but chuckle at the image of her tiny hand trying to cover herself. It hadn't worked very well. At least not since Trunks had been born.

 

“Vegeta? What are you doing here?” she asked, her attention turning to her son that had started to cry because he still couldn't see. She made shushing noises as she turned him around in her lap to face her, and wiped his beautiful blue eyes with her fingers as gently as she could. He splashed some more in the water as he turned away from her and let out a silly laugh, and Bulma noticed it was because he had seen his father standing by the door.

 

He kicked and sprayed water everywhere, making Bulma sputter some more as Trunks continued to show his happiness at seeing his father.

 

“Papa!”

 

Vegeta frowned and continued to stand there. He ignored his son and his eyes swept in a very appreciative manner over the woman in the bathtub. Then he looked at the boy. “What is he doing in here?”

 

Bulma glared at him and closed her eyes as she sniffed in a haughty manner. She held Trunks closer in her arms, nearly smothering him in her breasts. “I don't know, Vegeta. Maybe he needed a bath, and maybe I did too. I killed two birds with one stone, don't you think?”

 

Vegeta rolled his eyes and flicked his hand in their direction. “You are killing him, woman.”

 

She looked furious for a moment, and then she looked down to see that Trunks was struggling to get out of her hold. Her face flamed as she pulled him away, apologizing profusely. “Oh Trunks, baby, I'm so sorry. Mama's so sorry, honey. You forgive her?”

 

Trunks looked as mad as a little boy of two could. “Mama, I coubn't breave!”

 

Bulma nodded and stroked the tiny mop of lavender hair on his head. “I know, I'm sorry. You forgive mama?”

 

Trunks glared at her, and Vegeta struggled to not laugh. The boy looked downright mean.

 

“I forgive mama. Papa come in!”

 

Trunks' whole demeanor changed and he giggled and splashed some more. “Papa come in! Papa! Papa! Papa!”

 

Bulma looked at her son and then at the man still standing there, his arms crossed over his broad chest. She had noticed the towel wrapped around his narrow hips long ago, and her eyes drank him in for a moment before she looked up to see him watching her as well.

 

“Vegeta? Do you want to join us?”

 

He snorted. “Please. That brat polluted the water the second he was in it. Have you ever seen how dirty he gets? I think not.”

 

Bulma's lower lip stuck out. “But I rinsed him off before I actually put him in the water. I wouldn't want to be in the same water either, Vegeta.”

 

“Papa come in now!”

 

Bulma shushed him. “Be quiet for a moment Trunks. Can you do that for mommy?”

 

He kicked the water in frustration, accidentally hitting her in the stomach. She “oofed” and sucked in air as quickly as she could, because Trunks had just hit her diaphragm and knocked the wind out of her. She just knew she wasn't going to be able to breathe for a few long moments.

 

Vegeta looked on in concern, seeing Bulma trying to get air into her lungs and Trunks continuing to kick and fling his hands everywhere. Finally he scowled and strode over to the bathtub, where he plucked his screaming son off the woman in the tub. She looked grateful as she placed her now free hand over her chest, and finally managed to get air into her lungs.

 

At that moment Vegeta glared at his son, who was held out a good arm's length away from him. He fought the urge to shake him, for he remembered what had happened when he had done that the first and only time two months ago. Bulma had actually punched him upside the head and screamed for so long Vegeta's eardrums had been pierced.

 

Trunks miraculously stopped yelling and carrying on the moment his father picked him up. He wiggled in Vegeta's arms and held out his hands with his chubby fingers so that Vegeta would hold him closer. The older man gave the child a disgusted look and stuck his tongue out at him.

 

Trunks burst into happy laughter. “Papa's funny, mama! Look at papa!”

 

Vegeta's eyes widened and he sucked his tongue back into his mouth before Bulma had a chance to see what he had done. She smiled appreciatively at him as she rubbed the red spot on her softly sculpted abdomen.

 

“Thank you, Vegeta,” she said gently, lifting her arms to take Trunks back. “He is getting too strong for me, you know that, don't you?”

 

Vegeta looked at the boy vying for his attention, still holding out his arms to get his father to hold him closer. He gave the child another revolted look. “You are just seeing things, woman. He is nothing but a baby, as you always tell me.”

 

“Me a baby!”

 

Vegeta shook his head as he handed Trunks back to his mother. He instantly began screaming and crying and kicking violently in Bulma's hands, and she gasped in pain as he whacked her on the side of the face.

 

The appalled look on Vegeta's face was almost worth the pain, Bulma had to admit. “Vegeta, please just take Trunks! He really wants you!”

 

Bulma wondered a second later if that was a good idea when she saw the murderous look in his eyes. Was Vegeta really that protective of her? Even from his own son?

 

“It's ok, Vegeta. He didn't mean any harm. He just wanted to stay with you.”

 

Vegeta was scowling fiercely at his son and ignored Bulma, who was rubbing the side of her face. “Trunks! Look what you did to your mother! You hurt her!”

 

The little boy's lips started trembling and his eyes began to water. Vegeta watched as Bulma leaned forward to shut off the water, which was starting to get a little high. Trunks continued to look like he was going to cry, and Vegeta had no clue what to do. He looked at Bulma for advice.

 

“Rock him, Vegeta. Or hold him closer. He doesn't like how you hold him so far away,” she said, working her jaw side to side with her hand. “Ouch, that little bugger.”

 

Vegeta wanted nothing to do with “rocking” Trunks or holding him closer. He was already dripping cold water all over his arms, and he felt like disgusting slippery rubber. He annoyed him like nothing else ever had.

 

“Bulma, you take him back. I don't know how to `rock' him.”

 

She sighed and held out her arms again. Trunks began fidgeting even before he was back in his mother's arms, and the piercing wail that he let out made Vegeta's ears ring when Bulma's fingers touched his back was enough for Vegeta to want to throw him into the wall.

 

Bulma huffed at the older man. “Can't you just hold him, Vegeta? Just come in here and we'll all take a bath together.”

 

Trunks sobered up instantly, but he was still pouting at his father. “Papa take bath. Dirty papa!” He started wriggling in his arms.

 

Bulma couldn't help but giggle. She covered her mouth to try to hide it, but Vegeta had caught the sound and growled at her. She giggled some more when Vegeta gave the evil eye to their son, and said in a deadly voice, “No, Trunks. Papa is not dirty. You are dirty, and a very, very bad boy.”

 

Vegeta's shoulders slumped. Oh great. Not again. The little being in his arms was going to cry again. Trunks opened his mouth to scream again, and Vegeta panicked. His poor ears, he wasn't going to be able to hear for a week!

 

“No, no, no, no, no, no! Trunks, you are a good boy, aren't you? You aren't going to cry again and hurt my ears, are you? No, no...you are a good boy!”

 

Bulma was going to die. Vegeta looked like he was dancing around on hot coals he was so panicked that Trunks was going to make him deaf. She couldn't breathe she was laughing so hard.

 

“Yes, Trunks,” she gasped, laughing. “You are a good boy.” She laughed some more. “Why don't you get daddy to come in here, huh?”

 

Vegeta's eyes shot daggers at her. Damn this whole situation!

 

Bulma rolled her eyes. “Oh, Vegeta. You won't die. I'll even wash your back for you.” She winked at him.

 

He visibly perked up. He looked at Trunks, and said sternly, “Now you listen to me. I am going to give you back to your mother, and you are going to be good. I will come in with you if you are a good boy. Do you understand?”

 

Trunks gurgled. “Papa come in! Mama clean papa!”

 

Bulma's face turned red, and she noticed with a small laugh that Vegeta's had as well. She always loved to see him blush, he looked so cute.

 

Vegeta handed Trunks back to his mother, muttering about brats and their uncanny sense of hearing.

 

Bulma pulled Trunks against her chest and cooed at him. The coos, however, died in her throat as the large towel around Vegeta's hips was pulled away by his long fingers, and placed on the golden hook bolted to the tiled wall.

 

Bulma gave him an appreciative smile as he stepped into the bathtub, and sat down next to her. She looked up at him as she scooted over and leaned against him, wanting to be close to the father of her child. He looked down at her, annoyed at her wriggling, and she planted a kiss on his unsuspecting lips.

 

A second later Trunks was plopped into his lap. The little boy giggled and gurgled and made all kinds of funny noises as he flung himself at his father. “Papa!”

 

Vegeta tried to pry the little arms off his torso, but had no such luck. The little bugger was stronger than he had thought!

 

“Aww, Vegeta. I wish I had a camera. You two are just so cute.”

 

A warning growl came from deep in his chest. Trunks laughed at the feeling against his cheek, and demanded, “More, papa! That felt funny!”

 

Vegeta looked down at his son, who was smiling so hard it had to hurt. He was curled around him and never wanted to let go from the looks of it.

 

“Here. Wash his hair.”

 

Vegeta took hold of the yellow bottle with a picture of a teddy bear on it. “What the...heck is this?”

 

Bulma poured her own scented shampoo into her hands and began lathering her hair. Vegeta hadn't even noticed that she had dunked her head under the water.

 

“It's shampoo for babies, Vegeta. It won't burn if it gets in his eyes because it's pH balanced. You can wash his body with it too.”

 

Vegeta frowned. “I don't want to wash his hair...or anything else.”

 

She shrugged and dunked herself back under the water. Vegeta stared in fascination at the sight of her shoulder-length hair floating around in the soapy water. He reached out to touch it.

 

“Papa wash my hair now!”

 

Vegeta looked at his son. “Look, Trunks. I don't want to wash your hair. Can't you do it yourself?”

 

The little boy pouted, and then jumped in shock in his arms when Bulma reemerged from the water. Vegeta unconsciously held him closer after he startled, and Trunks made happy gurgling noises against his chest.

 

Bulma sighed, her eyes closed. “Mmm....”

 

She attached herself to Vegeta's side a second later, practically purring. “You want me to help you wash his hair, Vegeta? I understand that you're not sure how to do it.”

 

Vegeta stared at her. Didn't she get it? He didn't want to.

 

“Here,” she said, taking the yellow bottle that was now floating around in the water. She opened the top with a flick of her thumb, and poured a drop into her palm. She gave him a look then. “Give me your hand.”

 

He held out his hand unquestioningly, and then frowned at Bulma when she poured a dab into his hand as well.

 

“Now we can both wash his hair. He'll love the attention. He's just like daddy's little kitty.”

 

Vegeta watched attentively as she washed his tiny mop of hair with one hand. He was stuck doing it now, so he knew he might as well pay attention.

 

“Now you try. It's just like washing your hair, except there isn't as much of it and you have to be careful.”

 

Vegeta looked down at his son who was still curled against his stomach, half asleep. He moved his hand with the shampoo in it to start washing his hair, and noticed with startling clarity that his hand was bigger than his son's whole head. Trunks was so tiny...he was still just a little baby. No wonder why Bulma always called him `baby' and yelled at him for doing things that only adults would be able to do.

 

Bulma smiled happily as Vegeta began gently washing their son's hair. He was surprisingly tender, and he seemed like he was really paying attention to what he was doing.

 

She had to admit that she was happy Trunks and herself had roped him into coming into the bathtub with them. Vegeta hardly ever participated in “family matters”, and she was left doing them herself. He was always training, and she was always busy with work and Trunks.

 

There were a few times where Vegeta had actually spent time with her and Trunks. There were some nights that Trunks had been fussy, and Bulma had brought him into bed with her. Vegeta never came to bed until late, and when he had seen them, he had actually curled up to her and Trunks and held them all night long.

 

She had to admit that he tried. He was not used to children and he wasn't used to being soft and gentle. He was used to being able to whomp on people's butts and talk however he wanted.

 

But since Trunks had been born, Bulma had made sure that Vegeta watched his mouth around him, and that he treated him delicately, because he was just a baby and he didn't have the massive muscle and bone structure that he had. Trunks wouldn't be able to stand against one of his attacks, however small it would be. She knew he was half Saiya-jin, but she didn't want the chance of him getting hurt.

 

Bulma continued to watch him. She was surprised when Vegeta pulled the half-asleep little boy from around his stomach gently, and let his right hand support his head, neck, and shoulders as he held him and let him float on his back. His left hand began scooping up small handfuls of water to wash the shampoo out of his hair, and once he was done, he let the little boy curl back up to his stomach.

 

Bulma was nearly moved to tears. She placed her hand over her heart and continued to watch the pair. Vegeta was almost studying his son, dribbling water over his back over and over again. Trunks looked to be asleep, and it didn't bother Vegeta. What had gotten into him?

 

She cleared her throat to dislodge the lump. “V-Vegeta...did you want me to take him?”

 

He looked at her, and then shrugged. “No, he is fine.” He looked back down at his son, and placed his hand over his back. Again he noticed how small Trunks was as his hand covered his whole back when his fingers were splayed out.

 

“Do you want me to wash your hair, Vegeta?” Bulma asked a moment later, letting her fingers trace the muscular contours of his shoulder.

 

He shrugged again. “It doesn't matter, woman.”

 

She smiled at him and kissed the place where her fingers had just been. “I would love to if you would just let me.”

 

He glanced at her sideways, almost unsure. “If you insist.”

 

She nodded and smiled wickedly. “Oh yes, I insist.”

 

She made him lean forward just enough so she could insert herself behind him. He had always loved sitting between her legs, for whatever reason, but she was happy to oblige him. He always turned to mush when he was thus.

 

Bulma grabbed a bar of soap and began the process of washing him. She knew that she had told him that she would just wash his hair, but she had lied. Oops.

 

She washed his shoulders, neck, arms, and as much of his back and chest as she could reach without having him lean forward more. After she was done she dropped the soap into the water and began massaging his shoulders.

 

The instantaneous groan she got from him made her toes curl. She had learned long ago how to work his muscles; you had to be strong and you had to exert a lot of pressure. Her upper body strength had tripled since she had met him and had started giving him massages.

 

She worked the muscles of his neck and then went down along his spine, until she reached the place in the middle of his spine that always made him arch. He did just as she expected, and she giggled as he growled.

 

“You know you like it, Vegeta.”

 

He grumbled at her and settled back against her, leaning all his weight onto her, whether it was on purpose or not she wasn't sure. She was used to it by now, she dealt with his massive weight nearly every night anyhow. He had a tendency to just fall on her after sex, where he usually just stayed that way until they fell asleep. And right now, just like all the other times, he leaned all his weight on her so she could rub his shoulders.

 

After a few long minutes, she began cupping handfuls of water to rinse the soap off his bronze skin. She murmured in his ear to make sure no soap got into Trunks' eyes, and Bulma thankfully heard no screaming from her baby boy, which meant that Vegeta had made sure nothing had happened to him.

 

She began the arduous process of wetting his hair, for she couldn't very well dunk him into it like she could herself. He chuckled how long it took her to get his hair wet, and did absolutely nothing to help her. She was the one who had suggested it anyhow.

 

When his hair was finally flat against his head (an interesting sight), Bulma poured shampoo into it and began washing his hair for the first time ever. She had never had the privilege, and she was surprised at how easy it was. Vegeta's hair was much softer than it appeared, so it was easy to wash it.

 

She took her time, kneading his scalp with her fingers and then scratching it with her nails. The loud groan he let out when she began scratching his head made her squirm and laugh at the same time. She had no idea Vegeta liked having his head scratched. She knew it felt good when she did it to herself, and it felt even better when she did it when her hair was wet.

 

“Mmm...you like that, Vegeta?”

 

“Uuugggggghh....”

 

She smiled and kissed his shoulder. “Ready to rinse out your hair?”

 

“No.”

 

She giggled. “Well, it's getting kind of late, Vegeta. It's passed Trunks' bedtime. And I know that you like to get up early to train, but if we take any longer, you won't get enough sleep and you'll be cranky.”

 

He turned to look at her. “Why?”

 

She smirked and rubbed her slippery breasts against his firm, muscular back. “You know why.”

 

His eyes closed as a crooked smile appeared on his face. “Hn.”

 

She took Trunks from his chest as gently as she could, surprised when he didn't fuss at being moved from his father. He just sucked his thumb into his mouth and drooled on her as Vegeta dunked his head under the water and washed the soap out.

 

Bulma stepped out of the tub while the Saiya-jin Prince finished washing quickly, and dried herself and Trunks off. Her little boy opened his blue eyes for just a moment before he started fussing, just like Bulma had thought he would.

 

When Vegeta was finished washing (in record time), Bulma and Trunks had left the bathroom. He frowned, wondering where they had gone, when he heard Bulma cooing at their son in the next room. He smiled and pulled the plug to the bathtub before he grabbed his towel off the hook and began drying himself off.

 

When he was done, his towel wrapped around his hips, he walked back into their room. Bulma had just finished dressing their son, and was walking out of the room to lay Trunks down for the night.

 

Vegeta smirked and flicked off the bathroom light before he dropped the towel onto the floor nonchalantly, and then crawled under the blankets, ready and naked for her to return for an evening of carnal delights.

 

When she came back, which was a half hour later, she looked exhausted and had Trunks in her arms. He was crying and sniffling and was clinging to her.

 

Vegeta frowned immediately. “Why is he here?” He could only tolerate the brat so much.

 

Bulma sighed tiredly. “He kept crying, Vegeta. He kept saying he wanted `papa'.”

 

Vegeta sneered. “Well isn't that just too bad. Send him back to bed. Tell him `papa' is dead.” He flicked his hand through the air to show his displeasure.

 

Bulma gasped, which disturbed the child who was still crying in her arms even further. “Vegeta,” she snapped, “how dare you say such a thing. Say you're sorry to him.”

 

Trunks was yet again plopped onto his naked loins. Thankfully he was covered by a blanket and the kid wasn't being hyper, else he would have nailed him in a certain vulnerable area.

 

Instead, he sniffled a few times, stuck his thumb into his mouth, and attached whatever limb he had free onto Vegeta's midsection. Vegeta was just thinking about the dreaded drool when he felt the brat's ki drop into sleep.

 

Bulma heard the Saiya-jin's pissed growl echo through the room and sighed as she crawled onto the bed beside him.

 

“Are you mad?”

 

He turned to look at her. “Mad does not begin to describe it, woman. You...” he started, and then sighed as his shoulders slumped. He looked down at his son, who was out like a light. “You owe me.”

 

Bulma nodded understandingly as she curled up to his side. “I know.” Then she winked at him. “At least we don't have another brat to worry about.”

 

Vegeta stared at her in horror.

 

 

 

 

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Author's Note: I think it's just so cute! Does anyone think I should do a sequel? It would involve Bra, though. If you're interested just say so!

 

Oh yes, and I want to thank Altair for beta-ing this for me. She did such a great job! Everyone thank her!