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The dirty bandages fell apart underneath Goku’s fingers. He took his time removing them from Vegeta’s arm, his stomach churning at the sight of Vegeta’s pink skin. The healing process was going well, at least. Saiyan genes proved useful in times like these. But it still hurt seeing the error of his own carelessness every time he helped Vegeta clean his arm.
Goku bit his lips as he peeled away the dead brown pieces until there were none left. He took his time massaging the cream into Vegeta’s pale knuckles and raw palms. A week since the accident, and the memories of that day refused to cease. Vegeta’s taunt, Goku’s snarky response, a spar that raged on and on in the white vastness of the room, ki blasts, fast attacks, and then one mistake, one stupid mistake—
He swallowed the rising bile in his throat.
Vegeta sat on the edge of the bed, fortified in place, his face stone-walled. He never winced, never teared-up when Goku touched sensitive areas.
The new bandages soaked up the cream Goku rubbed onto his skin, settling into place and molding around Vegeta's arm. Goku sighed where he kneeled on the floor, holding Vegeta's hand in both of his, the brace secured and finished.
His mistake. His fault.
Vegeta yanked his hand away.
Goku stayed on the ground while Vegeta headed out into the void of the room to train by himself.
It had been like this for a whole week—Vegeta doing his own thing, while Goku did his own. After spending roughly a year together in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, Goku thought they were getting closer. He learned more about Vegeta, understood his style of fighting and his way of thinking, even started to hear stories of Vegeta’s past.
But after that accident—that dumb, stupid, foolish accident—the walls went right back up. Vegeta shut him out again, understandably so, but it hurt. Vegeta was an unmovable mountain Goku thought would never break, but he was just starting to. Just the start of it. And now it was gone.
“I can’t believe I screwed up like that,” Goku told Vegeta a few nights ago.
“Hn.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Vegeta didn’t respond to his apologies. He ignored him and continued doing whatever he was doing. Cooking his own meals, training by himself, reading a book, taking a bath or taking a nap. Just like now.
In the distance, Goku heard Vegeta’s grunts and the whoosh of his fists flying in the chamber’s thin air. He walked over to his own bed, closing up the divider curtain between their two beds.
A week ago, Goku would've chased Vegeta down. He wouldn’t have cared if Vegeta yelled at him, threw a ki blast in his face, sent cutting, scathing remarks and sneers. Now, Goku hesitated. Action didn’t come before thought this time. Because he made that mistake already, in that spar. A mindless fool. The clown Vegeta always accused him of being.
When Vegeta left to train during the week, Goku never followed. He incarcerated himself in his side of the Chamber’s room and waited. They only interacted when it was Goku’s turn to spar, when they ate, and when Vegeta’s bandages needed changing. It was a big surprise the first time he offered to help Vegeta, because Goku fully expected him to say no. But Vegeta let him help. He also was surprised to hear no snide remarks or belittling jeers. Vegeta stayed quiet and still whenever Goku worked, and never said a thing when Goku finished.
Sometimes he caught Vegeta muttering something to himself during dinner, or when Goku passed by after Vegeta’s personal training. Something guttural, almost lyrical, with tongue clicks and a slight inflection. He hadn’t heard it before, ever, and he assumed maybe that was their own language. The original Saiyan language.
As much as he wanted to ask Vegeta, to confirm his thoughts, to know what Vegeta was saying, Goku knew better than to pry. He was in the wrong. He stopped himself every time he tried, and luckily, Vegeta never noticed. He busied himself with whatever he was doing next, and Goku censored himself as best he could.
But it was so hard. He was getting so close to Vegeta, so damn close after one year together. He saw Vegeta laugh, even made him really laugh once. He was learning more about Vegeta’s travels in space, his many battles, what he discovered out there. There was so much to this man, and Goku wanted to know more—know everything. Every piece of him.
He ruined that chance though. So he resigned himself to dirty bandages needing a change every time they woke, solitary training in the white void and the thick, heavy silence between them. A well-deserved punishment that he would accept. Even if that meant taking it for the next two years together. Even if that meant never getting that chance of being close to Vegeta again.
The unspoken truce between them ended abruptly the next day, against Goku’s will. It was the routine song and dance, changing Vegeta’s bandages as usual, but with an unintentional difference: he didn’t put enough cream this time. The bandages landed on bare, burnt skin, and Vegeta hissed in pain when the adhesive glued on, and Goku grimaced at the same time Vegeta did when he had to pull the adhesive away and redo his work.
Once Goku finished, Vegeta jerked his hand away, rubbing at the bandages. “Watch what you’re doing, clown,” he snapped.
“Sorry.” Goku gathered all the medicinal materials back into the white cubby. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I swear it.”
“Tch. Sure.”
“I mean it, Vegeta. I really didn’t—”
“Save your sentimental dribble for someone else.” Vegeta stood to his feet, walking away, out of their shared room. “Idiot.”
“Vegeta—”
“Shut it.”
Goku sighed, finishing up his clean up—
Vegeta’s next words stopped Goku cold. “Can’t believe I ever trusted a fool like you.”
Goku jerked his head around, staring at Vegeta’s retreating form from where he kneeled.
He watched Vegeta snap on his gloves one by one, unable to move or look away. “You could’ve stopped that attack. But you didn’t.” Those hurtful words. “You failed on purpose, and you know it.”
His lips formed the word ‘no,’ but no voice accompanied it. Goku shook his head no, but Vegeta didn’t look back. Didn’t bother to.
Vegeta continued, “To think, I was even starting to enjoy your company.” A rueful chuckle. “What a fool I was.”
Goku choked on his own breath, watching Vegeta head out into the void of the chamber.
“Stay away from me for the rest of our time here,” Vegeta snarled. “I don’t care where you go or what you do, just leave me alone.”
The more Vegeta walked away, the blurrier he got.
The more Vegeta spoke, the harder it got to breathe.
“I don’t need you,” Vegeta said. “I don’t trust you.”
Goku slowly rose to his feet.
In the distance, Vegeta shouted, “And I don’t forgive you!” He spun on his heel, and Goku saw it all: the anger, the distrust, but most of all, the hurt. The unbridled hurt. “Do you hear me Kakarot—”
Then it disappeared for some reason. The hurt, the rage. It went away.
Vegeta stared at him, wide-eyed and slack jawed for some reason.
Something salty dripped into the corner of Goku’s mouth.
With a shaky hand, Goku reached up and touched the sides of his lips. Ran his fingers up and over his cheek and pulled it away.
Wetness shined on the tips.
The corner of his lips quirked upwards.
He sniffed and it sounded wet. So did his voice when Goku finally was able to speak. Almost didn’t recognize the sound of it when he said, “Oh. Okay.” Didn’t even recognize his own laugh either, how throaty and sad and broken it was. He lifted his head, staring right at Vegeta, but he couldn’t see him well with his blurry vision, and that was okay with him. That was just fine. “I can do that.”
Vegeta said, “You’re—”
Whatever Vegeta’s next words were didn’t matter. They faded out in the distance, in the wake of Goku’s ki. He blasted off right into the bleakness of the void without looking back.
The air thinned the more he flew. The pressure intensified. Gravity crunched around him, suffocated his lungs, compressed his body, and it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.
White aura everywhere. White light. It hurt to breathe, to think. Don’t go beyond the plaza , Kami warned him as a child, and he didn’t try then. Didn’t even think about doing it every time he came back to this dimension. Warned his own son the same way Kami did.
Could’ve just left.
Black dots in his vision.
Could’ve exited early.
Thick wheezes and loud gasps.
Not made a scene.
Ki lowering, fast.
Stupid idiot.
Goku slowed down.
Moron .
The edges of his boots skidded on endless ground.
Deserved this.
He tumbled to his knees.
Deserve it.
Onto his hands.
Goku shut his eyes tight.
Behind them, all he saw was Vegeta’s sneer.
Vegeta—
Strong heat. A burn, right in the back of his head.
Goku groaned.
The burn intensified, overpowering the pressure around him, the all consuming white light, the lack of air, his own pained wheezes and gasps.
A sharp stab, right there. Right in that spot of his head, and Goku cried out, his voice echoing everywhere.
Don’t.
That voice.
Come…
A voice not his own, in his head.
Come back…
Another stab to his brain. Goku collapsed to his elbows, his hands cradling his head.
Vegeta’s faint whisper, in his head.
Please Kakarot…
The desperation. The urgency.
Come back…
The unbridled fear.
Don’t… go…
Goku cried out again as the burn hit a crescendo. The pressure hurt. His bones creaked and cracked. His head pounded and throbbed and split everywhere, pain raking his body again, and again, and again—
Mah’ni .
In the darkness of his lids, Vegeta wasn’t angry anymore.
Mah’ni, m’yo Kakarotto.
He was sad. Despondent.
Please .
Heartbroken.
I need you. Vegeta’s voice grew louder. I need you here. Like the dial of a knob turning towards ten, Vegeta’s voice became louder, and louder. I didn’t want this. Until all he could hear was Vegeta. I didn’t mean it. Until all he could feel, touch, see, smell was Vegeta, and Vegeta alone. I never meant for you—for this—fuck, Kakarot, I never wanted to—
Then, the spark of Vegeta’s ki, in his senses, somehow. As if Vegeta was right there beside him, holding him up—almost protecting him, in a way, from the void.
Goku sobbed at Vegeta’s next words.
I love you, Kakarot.
His voice ricocheted everywhere in the void and his mind.
I love you.
Slowly, Goku lifted two fingers to his forehead.
It shouldn’t have been so easy to escape where he was. But the pressure disappeared. The lack of air, the burn, everything disappeared the second his hands and knees landed on the familiar tile of the Chamber’s room.
His head still hurt though. Still throbbed and ached in the area where that sharp pain first hit him. It didn’t hurt anymore at least. Didn’t burn anymore either.
Once his breath evened out, Goku moved his fingertips away from his forehead. Vegeta’s ki was right there, only a small distance away from him. Almost close enough to touch.
He took in a long inhale. Held it at the top.
On the exhale, Goku leaned back onto his heels, his hands resting on top of his knees, and lifted his head up.
Vegeta looked terrible—absolutely terrible. Bandages, tape and medicine circled Vegeta where he sat on the edge of the bed, all of his armor gone, save his grey spandex pants. His burned hand shook on his naked thigh, a rough cotton ball digging into patchy red skin.
Bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes stared right at him. Almost popped out of their sockets with how wide they got.
The cotton ball Vegeta held dropped to the floor.
Goku closed the gap easily between them, crawling over the chamber floor until he knelt between Vegeta’s legs.
He cradled the burned arm in his hands. His fingers skipped over the new bandage down to Vegeta's fingers.
Their fingertips touched. Rough pads of skin against his own. Little scars over the top of knuckles. Thick cuticles. Strong, calloused and worn hands.
He leaned in and pressed his lips to them.
Those fingers trembled in his grip.
When Goku tilted his chin up, he looked right at Vegeta and right past all of those barriers he knew so well by now. All the walls, all the shields, they collapsed and shattered to pieces as he found what was there the whole time, waiting for him to arrive.
He released Vegeta’s hand to cup his cheek.
One of Vegeta’s hands rested on top of his.
Those eyes. Vegeta’s face. The sound of his tempered breathing, with a hint of a tremble. A hint of wetness.
“You came back,” Vegeta whispered. Those eyes shined, and Goku’s vision blurred at the sight of the shock, the uncertainty, and the need, right there. Right in front of him. “It actually worked.”
It took a moment to speak, his throat dry and raw, but when he did, Goku asked, “What did?”
“The link. I knew we had one after the fusion, but I didn’t think—I hoped—” Vegeta leaned into Goku’s hand, hissing through his teeth, “You could’ve gotten yourself killed , you fool.”
Goku cupped the other side of Vegeta’s face. Took in the way he looked, how he smelled, how he felt under his palms, how beautiful he actually was, and he let himself smile as he leaned up.
“Thank you, Vegeta.” He closed the rest of the gap between them, finally admitting aloud as his eyes fell shut, “I love you too.”
A soft gasp, against his mouth.
Warm breath. Soft lips on his.
Vegeta’s whole face trembled in his hands.
Those strong, calloused fingers cupped the back of Goku’s neck, pulling him up. That hand left his own to fully cup Goku’s head, and Vegeta deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue inside Goku’s mouth.
The world spun and turned. So much heat and soft skin. Hands ran everywhere on his body, pushing the fabric of his gi off to the side. His head throbbed and ached, and now he knew why. Now he knew, and Goku smiled into the kiss, smiled as he moaned, relaxing under Vegeta’s hasty, desperate ministrations. He let Vegeta push his gi away, let him kiss and lick and bite and suck all over his neck and pecs and shoulders and stomach, until he was covered in Vegeta’s marks. Until all he could sense and feel was Vegeta alone, in the safety and comfort of this room, in this bed.
He calmed Vegeta down, taking control of the kiss, carding his fingers through Vegeta’s soft hair, petting him in long, languid strokes. He pulled Vegeta between his legs—chuckled when their hard cocks touched for the first time and Vegeta gasped hard into their kiss—and Goku slid both of his hands out of Vegeta’s hair to stroke the skin of his bare back. Up and down, small circles, gentle and easy and relaxed, over every scar, every mark, tracing muscles and bones and the remnants of a tail scar, until Vegeta finally calmed down above him with a soft, gentle sigh.
When they pulled away from the kiss, Goku nudged their noses together and whispered, “What does ‘mah’ni’ mean?”
Vegeta nudged his nose back. “It means ‘I’m sorry.’”
“It sounds very pretty.”
“Hn.” Vegeta’s hands cupped his face. His voice turned guttural, lower, as he said against his lips, “M’eh t’sha au.”
Goku slowly opened his eyes, staring right into Vegeta’s.
Above him, Vegeta gave him a small, shy smile.
“That one means ‘I love you,’” he said.
Goku slid one hand up Vegeta’s back to touch his cheek. His own lips curled into a small, shy smile as well, as he soaked in every precious moment of this, every piece of Vegeta, burning it into his memory forever.
“M’eh t’sha au, Vegeta.”
That chuckle sounded so good to Goku’s ears. Felt nice as it rumbled against his bare chest. “Like a natural, m’yo Kakarotto.”
He laughed as well, shutting his eyes as Vegeta leaned in. Lips met again in a soft, sweet kiss. Then another. And another. Soon Vegeta deepened the kiss yet again, and Goku went with it, wrapping his legs and arms around Vegeta’s back.
The intensity of what happened before, the high emotion and drama of the whole week, the fact that it was Vegeta here, kissing him, blanketing his body, cradling his body like it wa the most precious item in the universe—Goku succumbed to his exhaustion, pulling away from Vegeta to yawn on top of his lungs.
Above him, Vegeta smiled. A real, honest smile, something Goku was starting to see more often over the last year.
Goku ran one of his hands down Vegeta’s arms, stopping right at the bandaged one. It still needed changing, but that could be done later.
He took his time pulling it up towards his chest, and without looking away, he brought the knuckles to his lips and kissed them again.
Vegeta’s attention stayed solely on him. Never wavering. Never looking elsewhere.
The intensity of that stare caused a blush to rise on Goku’s cheeks, but he ignored it, kissing Vegeta’s knuckles again, thumbing a corner of the bandages.
On the next kiss, his lips lingered.
Goku breathed in the skin, sliding one hand down Vegeta’s forearm, over some of the still-healing skin, and up.
Another kiss.
He closed his eyes, taking another, longer breath as he pushed that hand to his face. Cupped the palm over his cheek and rubbed into it. Turned his head and nuzzled his nose into it.
One more kiss, into Vegeta’s palm.
One more longer breath.
When he pulled Vegeta’s hand away and opened his eyes again, he found Vegeta smiling at him—a wobbly, little smile, all for him.
A gentle tug in his head.
Vegeta’s voice sounded just right in his mind.
You are forgiven, m’yo Kakarotto.
He tugged Goku forward into another kiss as a warmth cascaded over Goku, causing him to shut his eyes and relax completely. He didn’t know when Vegeta moved off of him to lay on his side, didn’t register when Vegeta had pulled the sheets up to both of their chins and hugged Goku close to his chest. But it felt right. He felt right.
Vegeta’s bandaged arm wrapped around Goku’s torso, palm resting over Goku’s heart.
Goku snuggled closer to Vegeta, nose buried deep into Vegeta’s shoulder. With the last of his strength, he rested his own hand on top, and a moment later, he fell asleep to the rhythm of Vegeta’s steady breathing.