Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Ménage ❯ Filthy Little Secret ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ, GT, Harry Potter.

It was hot that day in June, and tempers rose with the temperature. Goku and Chi-Chi got into another fight; well, it was more Chi-Chi bitching and Goku not listening. This sort of daily routine had been going on for a while, now. Then again, what could one expect from a marriage that was rather forced, and one-sided?

They did have their good times, like back when their eldest son, Gohan, was small. Of course, now he was grown, and living a successful life abroad. Goten, their youngest, was hardly around as well being that he studied at a boarding school for magic far away from home.

The saiyan and his wife, in short, pretty much had nothing to distract them from how predictable their life together had become, except Goku's job with FedEx. His job, however, seemed to be the source of their arguments. Chi-Chi wanted a quiet, completely isolated life; while Goku preferred excitement and the unpredictable.

His little job was unsatisfactory, but it was still something. It got him out of the house, meeting new people, and getting some training done while working. Sometimes, though, it reminded him of his days as a child--when things were easy, and he didn’t have to worry about anyone but himself. He’d enjoyed being able to take off whenever he wanted without getting reprimanded for it by his screeching wife. He was never one to sit still for long, something his wife knew already, but seemed to point out the “fault”.

He let out a mental sigh at his thoughts. He wasn’t even sure what his wife was complaining about anymore. First she’d wanted him to get a job to help pay for all the food he consumed, the dishes and furniture he broke, and just to save up money in general. Now here she was bitching about him not spending enough time with her, yet again because of said job.

So because of this inability to see eye-to-eye, Goku had taken to hanging around Vegeta more often than not. Vegeta filled the void in his life where excitement should be. He was a challenge instead of a mental exhaustion, but yet again it was another reason for Chi-chi to bitch and moan about not spending time with her. However, he couldn’t explain to her that his time with Vegeta was far more exciting and relaxing than spending time with her--his own wife. If he did, he was sure he’d never hear the end of it!

No, instead he had to put on this ruse that he actually cared about what she was complaining about. He’d scratch the back of his neck in agitation, and put on his biggest and goofiest grin. His mouth opened to let out uncalled for laughter, to which his wife would just roll her eyes. He’d apologize for whatever he’d done or not done wrong and they’d go their opposite ways yet again.
-8-
Many miles away, Vegeta was having a similar problem. Where he lived--which was further north from Goku--on the outskirts of a vast forest in an ancient stone castle, the heat wasn't quite as bad; but considering that he was used to cooler weather than Goku, the heat was like a sauna to him.

He chose the immaculate castle for its greatness, and the solitude it provided far away from the craziness of the cities. However, because the castle was as old as it was, it normally came with occasional maintenance issues; this time, it was the central air unit.

The prince sat on his throne in the throne room, miserable, angry, and extremely sweaty. He had hollered for that useless wife of his to come and fix the problem, but she never came. He was the ruler of this castle, so all beings--whether it was wife or not--should be bowing at his feet!

This was one of the many things that annoyed him about her: she never paid attention to what he wanted. Actually, she didn't pay attention to him at all. Of course, it went both ways. They were both so different when it came to their priorities and interests, that they had nothing in common except for their only son: Trunks.

Other than Vegeta's outrageous demands, Trunks was the source of the arguments the estranged couple had. Vegeta hated how Bulma always petted the boy up and spoiled him; Bulma hated how Vegeta treated her precious son like he was scum.

Vegeta merely wanted his son to stop being an attention-seeking brat; was that too much to ask for?

Tired of waiting for his useless wife to get her ass to fixing the air unit, he stood up and left the marble-decorated throne room. He was bored, hot, and frustrated. Maybe a trip to Goku's house would be a mood-lightener, if the fool wasn't doing that ridiculous FedEx thing. Maybe Goku's house had working air-conditioning.

He was almost in the foyer when he saw her. Bulma stood at the opened entrance of the castle with that stupid grin of hers plastered across her face. She stepped aside to allow, to Vegeta's disgust, Yamcha inside. His fury intensified as he watched the gorgeous bandit wrap his arms around the shorter woman, pulling her into a passionate kiss.

"HEY!" Vegeta barked, stomping into the foyer. The couple broke apart, and stared wildly at the enraged saiyan, "I thought I fucking told you to fix the damn air thing, and here I find you canoodling with that bastard!" He brandished his finger at the taller man, scowling angrily.

Bulma placed her hands on her hips, "I don't live to answer to your beck and call, Vegeta," She argued, "And since you live by the Do-What-the-Fuck-I-Want policy, so will I."

"Oh?" The saiyan stepped forward. "Well as long as you're staying under my goddamned roof, you'll listen to what the fuck I have to say."

"Bullshit, Vegeta," Bulma scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Remember who pays half the bills; I do."

"Yeah, like I honestly and truly depend on your petty pocket change from your precious company to keep my castle running. Get real, woman." Vegeta strode past the couple, taking extra care to tread on Yamcha's flip-flop-clad feet. "And if my air conditioning isn't fixed by the time I get the fuck back, then you're little buddy can help you pack your shit." He swaggered out of the door, leaving Bulma extremely pissed, and Yamcha a little lost.

"I CAN GET YOU FOR EVERYTHING YOU OWN, VEGETA!" Bulma screamed from the door's opening.

Vegeta turned around and grinned, "Is that a challenge?" He took Bulma's silence as a sufficient answer, and took off to the sky.

Vegeta was a proud, proud prince, or rather king since he had a son (however, he considered his son unworthy for a royal title, so he stuck to prince). Not only was he a saiyan prince, but he was also a wizard like his parents before him. His son was also a wizard, but merely a half-wizard as well as a half-saiyan, thanks to Bulma.

He loved his magical side, as it made him feel even more excluded from the rest of society. When he was eleven-years-old and under Lord Freiza's command, he used to sneak to Earth to study magic while he was supposed to be on solo planet-purge missions. It was there at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that he learned to hone his magical abilities right under Freiza's nose.

Now, he was an accomplished Legilimens, meaning he could tell when anyone was lying to him if he had proper eye-contact. He was also pretty handy at Charms, being that he was constantly having to Silence Bulma from her screeching when she got into one of those moods where she was particularly bitchy.

Vegeta also supposed that Goku was a wizard, an uneducated wizard, but one nonetheless. The younger saiyan sometimes showed signs of magical abilities when he was feeling a particular emotional extreme. On one occasion, he was so stressed out over Chi-Chi nagging at him, he caused the woman to vanish, and turn up somewhere in the woods nearby. Needless to say, she was not happy at all when she found her way back.

After a while, he spotted the disgracefully small house that Goku lived in. He snorted at its homely appearance, and landed on the ground. Sure, he could have Apparated, but he enjoyed a good head-clearing fly once in a while. The heat was cooled by the breeze that was created by flying, of course it wasn’t much help, but it still felt better than sitting in that damn over-heated castle.

A ways before him, he saw Goku practicing some martial arts moves. In this heat? He thought, What an idiot.

"Hey, Vegeta!" Goku said a little breathlessly, waving jovially at the older man walking toward him, "Nice day, ain't it?"

"Its fucking hot as hell, Kakarrot, and you're an idiot for being out in it!" Vegeta responded none-too-friendly.

Goku frowned, "Well what're you doin' out here? Ain't it colder at your castle?"
Vegeta rolled his eyes, "It would be if a certain someone wasn't dicking around and fixed the damn air unit! I figured that you'd have working AC."

The younger saiyan suddenly stiffened. "But Chi-Chi's in there," he said a little quietly. "She doesn't know about--"

"Will you shut up?!"  Vegeta ground out through gritted teeth, glancing over at the kitchen window that faced the bamboo grove that they stood before. "No one will know as long as you don't talk about it." He continued, careful to keep his voice low, "For all that bitch knows I’m just here to merely see what you’re up to. Nothing suspicious about that."

"For someone who don't care what people say, you sure are actin' pretty paranoid,” Goku responded in an almost teasing manner. Secure in the knowledge that Vegeta would either let it slide or spar with him.

"Be quiet!" The prince hissed, "I'm not paranoid; I just don't want to deal with fucking drama, alright? Now let’s go inside!" Vegeta tossed his head in the direction of the small house.

Goku nodded; indicating that he understood. His eyes finally took in the older saiyan's sweaty form; how the front of the dark gray sleeveless shirt was stained with perspiration. He turned toward the house, gesturing for Vegeta to follow him. The younger saiyan blissfully unaware of the man that was following him was also discreetly running dark eyes up and down the leader’s backside.

Vegeta’s arms crossed over his chest as he suddenly turned his head to stare off to the side as if he’d actually been caught sneaking a peek. He hmphed to himself, his frown deepening as they finally reached the door.

The cool air from the house was extremely refreshing as both saiyan's walked through the door and headed toward the kitchen. Chi-Chi wasn't in the room, but that didn't mean she wasn't nearby. Still, it was hard to pass up an opportunity like this. Vegeta stepped toward Goku, who was standing by the sink drinking water from a glass, and lightly touched the man's arm. He slid his fingers over the cooled-off skin, receiving the attention he wanted.

"Hm?" Goku asked, putting the glass under the tap to refill it, only to place the glass completely down on the counter beside the sink as he gave his full attention to the shorter man.

Vegeta said nothing as he curled his finger's around the younger man's wrist, and pulled so that they were face to face. Goku felt the heat rise to his face under the intensity of Vegeta's stare. There was no real emotion in the stare; only that fiery desire that he was so used to. That look only led to one thing...

The younger saiyan felt his body being jerked downward a little too roughly. "Goku," The older man practically purred to him, causing a jolt of excitement to rush through him.

A hand stroked the side of Goku’s face, and dry lips brushed against his own. A tongue darted out to sweep across his bottom lip. The younger man placed his arm on Vegeta's shoulder, and returned the gesture eagerly. Before long, both saiyans were locked in a vertical wrestling match. Hands roamed freely, grabbing and groping well-toned muscles; tongues pushed and swirled around each other's, as they ravaged each other's mouths.

It’d been like this for about two months. It had started off as them training together--just something “relaxing” and “fun” as a way to get away from their nagging wives, as well as keeping in top shape. Their usual sparring sessions turned more challenging as the days went on. Kicks and punches turned suspiciously more caressing than hurting. Then those touches turned into well placed grabs at the others heated flesh and sometimes ripping patches of clothing. Then one day, aggressions and physical frustrations got the best of them. A simple pin-down turned into a heated, rushed, sloppy make-out session. It was sudden; it was unexpected; somehow, though, it wasn't strange.

From there, it didn't take long at all for things to get more intense. Of course, Vegeta always seemed to be the aggressor, but Goku hadn’t complained. In any case, it wasn’t any surprise that the heavy make-out sessions that occurred, along with the rough sparring would have both men hard. However, it had come as a surprise when Goku had been the first to initiate a hand job. The younger Saiyan had muttered something about masturbation getting old and unsatisfying, but Vegeta hadn’t cared for a reason.  In fact, Vegeta seemed thrilled about receiving and giving into the favor.

One day, Vegeta had coaxed Goku into having drinks with him at a seedy bar, being that both men had had a falling-out with their wives. A few too many drinks later, Goku was giving Vegeta head in the bathroom. Goku had been far too plastered to think or even care about taking the next leap forward. Even had the alcohol not been there, the younger saiyan had been certain that things would’ve eventually progressed to oral.

They had never taken it past oral sex, but the desire between the two males was almost too much to bear. The sexual tension between the two saiyans was almost electrifying on its own, and both of them knew that their encounters would be progressing to the next level sooner than either expected.

Goku's large hand swept down to grab a hold of Vegeta's well toned ass. The shorter body's hips were pushed forward, their lower halves meeting and gently grinding against the others. Goku was still a hesitant about taking the next physical leap, but the things had progressed and the spark between the two Saiyan's was something that was hard to ignore. Especially now that the younger was enthusiastically grinding against the older.

Vegeta’s hand landed on the larger man’s hip, gripping the bone as if trying to desperately pull it closer. His other hand was still holding onto Goku’s neck, as their lips, tongue, and teeth continued to enjoy each other. The shorter Saiyan’s hips thrust forward, his erection meeting demandingly against the taller’s thigh.

The two Saiyan’s continued to battle for dominance and push against the other, forgetting that they were in the Son household and could be caught at moment. Or maybe that was the unknown thrill that was fueling their passion even further. The older man finally pulled away, taking deep heavy breaths as a smirk covered his lips.

“Do you want me to take you right here? Would you prefer the table or the counter?” the prince asked smugly as the hand on Goku’s hip slipped further down. “Is that what you want?” The hand grabbed hold of the bulge jutting from other man’s pants.

A deep blush stained the younger Saiyan’s cheeks as he looked down at his partner. “Vegeta,” the name came out with a confused tone. He wanted to be with Vegeta, but things between them had started so abruptly, without warning, only to continue to spiral further out of control when the drinking commenced.

“Hm,” the satisfied hum left Vegeta’s lips as he pushed the larger man against the kitchen counter. “It’s a shame we can’t be alone right now,” the cryptic message came out before the prince pulled away quickly, filling a glass of water for himself as Goku still leaned back against the counter.

Chi-chi walked in a few seconds  later, her eyes going a little wide to see Vegeta standing in her kitchen. Her eyes then fell to her blushing, breathless husband, who was leaning back awkwardly against the counter.

"Vegeta," She said, trying to keep the suspicion out of her voice, "I didn't know we were expecting you," Her eyes shifted back to her husband, who had righted himself, but couldn't get rid of the guilty expression on his face fast enough. "Is something the matter?"

"N-No, Chi-Chi," Goku stammered, "W-we were just--"

"Leaving," Vegeta interjected, setting his glass upon the counter.

"Leaving?" The woman asked, a bit thrown off, "Goku, you never said anything about leaving."

Goku merely continued to look lost, still reeling over the fact that he and Vegeta were so close to having sex. He hoped that Vegeta would, at least, continue to take control of the conversation, as the man never mentioned anything about wanting to leave anywhere.

"Yeah," Vegeta continued, "Kakarrot and I are going out for drinks; not that its your business, or anything."

"It is my business, as he's my husband!" Chi-Chi argued, placing her hands on her hips, "But that's fine," She said simply, "You can go out," She then rounded on her husband, "Just remember that your son needs to be picked up from school for his summer break tomorrow morning! If you get too intoxicated, and are late getting him, I swear--"

"Don't worry, Chi-Chi," Goku practically groaned, "I won't be late getting Goten off of the train. I'll have Vegeta come with me--"

"--Yeah, like that's going to make me feel better--"

"--So that he can get Trunks."

Vegeta growled lowly. He was starting to get impatient, and was now annoyed that he had been volunteered to go pick up his useless son from the train station, when that was normally Bulma's job. The bitch--Chi-Chi's--ranting wasn't helping his mood, either.

"Let's hurry it up, Kakarrot," He grumbled, moving toward the door.

Almost as if Vegeta's words had some sort of magic spell on him, Goku obediently followed the older Saiyan. Chi-Chi was thus pushed to the very back of his attention-deficit mind, and was left standing there, frustrated beyond measure.

-0-

Trunks stood outside of the Charms classroom door with his girlfriend, Christina Ekis, with what should have been a smile on his face, but was actually more of a pained grimace. Off to the side, Goten looked uncomfortable around the couple, and took to staring around to ignore the awkwardness that he could feel radiating off of Trunks' body.


"I'll see you after I talk to the professor, then?" Christina asked in that annoyingly giggly voice of hers.


"Mm...sure," Trunks mumbled, looking away, "Whatever," He added, mostly under his breath. He and Goten both shared an aggravated look.


"Bye-byeee," The girl chimed, prodding her boyfriend in the arm.
"Huh? What?" Trunks looked down at the bouncy, sandy-blonde-haired girl, "Oh, yeah, bye,"


Christina looked up at her boyfriend expectantly, but her bright, smiling face quickly turned into a frown as both boys walked off.


"God, she's fucking annoying!" Trunks ground out as he and Goten strode across the lawns. It was the day of their Sixth Year before summer break starts, so there was plenty of free time to roam around and enjoy the beautiful weather. Unfortunately, Trunks wasn't feeling much like enjoying anything thanks to his unsatisfactory girlfriend. "I'm so glad that I'm ditching her ass."


"Her fat ass," Goten corrected, "What? She's got a fat ass!" He laughed under his best friend's questioning stare.


Trunks rolled his eyes and took his cloak off, so that he could sit on it instead of on the grass. "Christina Ekis," He spat, "What the hell kinda last name is that? Eeekis," He drew the "e" out extra long, placing an emphasis on the stupidity of the name.


"Christina Dick-is," Goten giggled. sitting cross-legged next to the older teen, "I can't believe she's actually a Ravenclaw,"


"I know, right?" Trunks, who was a Gryffindor, agreed, "I know for a fact that she was messing with that ass-hat, John; and I heard he was gross."


"Yeah, I think I heard something, too," Goten, who was in Hufflepuff house, paused for a second, "You didn't do anything with her, did you?"


"Oh, fuck no! I'm not stupid, Goten, gosh!" The older half-saiyan suddenly grinned, "Are you jealous?" He asked a little quietly, as slid his hand over Goten's, looking him in the eyes.


Goten's face went hot under Trunks' stare, "I-I'm not jealous, Trunks, cut it out," He pulled his hand from underneath the older teen's.


Trunks laughed breathily at his friend's shyness, "Well, what if I told you that I'm dumping Christina for someone else?"


"Damn, Trunks, you really do go through 'em, don't you?"


"I'm talking about you, Goten,"  


"M-me?" The younger half-saiyan's face couldn't be redder, "I--I mean, you and--what?" His jaw hung open stupidly at the suddenness of Trunks' remark, "You've got to be joking!"


Trunks leaned in closer, the smile on his face widening, "I've liked you for a while," He put his hand on Goten's knee, "Remember that time we practiced making out on each other? You were such and incredible kisser," His lips brushed against his friend's ear, "Didn't you like the way it felt? Wouldn't you like to do it again? God, you were so hot that day, I've never been so turned on; I wanted to ask you out then."


Goten's heart raced, and he felt himself getting aroused by Trunks' low voice and wandering hands (one of which was slipping slowly up his leg). Still, he felt overwhelmed. Trunks was his best friend, and now he was being  hit on by him, "B-but what about--"


"What, Goten?" The older teen played with a strand of shaggy black hair, practically leaning on Goten now, "Don't you like me? We've been best friends for so long, there's no way you wouldn't."


"B-but I do like you, Trunks," Goten muttered, "This is all just...happening so fast, y'know?" He started feeling extremely nervous for some reason, and couldn't look at his friend.


Realizing that his friend needed a bit of space, the older boy backed off and hugged his knees, which he rested his chin upon. He observed his blushing love interest for a minute before asking, "How 'bout you come home with me tomorrow?"


"Tomorrow? But I have to go home--"


"So? You can go home any time!" Trunks straightened up, and stretched his legs out, then leaned back on his hands, "Come home with me, Goten; I really think we can make this work if we try."


Goten sighed, "I guess so, but you know I have to get permission first."


"Whatever," Trunks said, smiling and shaking his head, "You go on ahead and ask mommy like a good little boy," He then tossed his long hair over his shoulder and tilted his head to the side, still watching the boy next to him.


"I'm not a good little boy," Goten frowned, "She still doesn't know about them times we smoked pot and got drunk,"


"Putting on a front is so much worse," The older teen teased, prodding the younger one in the arm, "Although, it was pretty funny to watch you pretend to be sober while talking, even though you kept stuttering."


"Well, I'm sorry for not being all obnoxious and mean about stuff like you are," Goten rolled his eyes. He wasn't a fan of being loud and boisterous like Trunks was when it came to illicit activities.


"I'm not obnoxious," Trunks replied, leaning forward, "I just don't give a flying fuck," He pressed his lips to Goten's, then quickly pulled back. He looked up to see his girlfriend striding across the lawns in their direction. "I guess its time to deal with the bitch." He stood up and gathered his grass-covered cloak off of the ground, "I'll see you, I guess," He said to his friend, giving him a flirtatious smile and winking before walking off.


Goten watched his friend walk off and meet up with Christina. After a childhood of friendship shared, he never imagined that Trunks ever had feelings for him. The very thought of it caused his temperature to rise; he loosened the yellow and black striped tie around his neck and took off his cloak. He honestly liked Trunks, and thought he was extremely cute, but what held him back was the fear of destroying their friendship with a relationship.


In a sense, they were opposite in personalities; Trunks was bossy, demanding, out-going, and very full of himself. He could be very spoiled at times, resorting to dramatics to get his way, especially around his parents. Despite the fact that Trunks treated everyone else with a blatant disregard, he always seemed to have a soft spot for his best friend. Goten, who was mild-mannered, shy, and laid back, was so sure that he was the only one who has ever seen the softer side of Trunks


They have been through a lot together. They shared deep secrets, and have seen each other cry. Goten was also the only person, besides, perhaps, Vegeta, who knew of Trunks' self-mutilation problem.


He generally disapproved of it, believing that there were other methods of coping with severe stress, but he also didn't make too much of a fuss about it. He felt that it wasn't his business, and that he had no clue what was going on in Trunks' head.


They were also each other's first kiss, which is something that Goten personally cherished. It was the Christmas Break of their Fifth Year, and he and Trunks had stolen a bottle of Vegeta's favored Remy Martin. The taste was awful, but the effect was incredible.
Both intoxicated off of the expensive cognac, they started out just playing around and wrestling on the bed. Suddenly an innocent kiss was given by Goten, the drunker of the two.


Goten vividly remembered the mildly surprised look on his friends face, followed by the sudden question, "Have you ever really kissed anyone?"


Followed by his own giggly answer, "no," and Trunks' "Me neither," their wrestling match turned into a full-blown make-out session. It was hot, wet, and regrettably short-lived, but Goten has never been with someone since who could unleash the feelings (physical and emotional)


he inadvertently felt at that moment. Afterward, both boys tried to convince one another (or themselves, for that matter) that it was merely for fun; that they were just trying to practice kissing for later relationships.


His thoughts traveled to the conversation they had just had. Trunks said he had liked him for a while. Then why had he not seen any signs? Trunks was an openly-flirtatious person, and could be quite pushy at times. Still, Goten could not recall a time before, until now, that his friend had even batted an eye at him.


Is it worth risking our friendship? He thought to himself. What if we just do a trial-run? Just to see if its awkward or not. He hoped that if things didn't work out, they would be able to continue being friends without anything being awkward. He also wondered if he would be able to handle Trunks' extreme personality. He kept telling himself that Trunks was more subdued around him. He decided that waiting until they were back home was the best thing before making a decision.


-8-


A huge grin spread across Trunks' face as he mockingly waved his now ex-girlfriend farewell. He was so happy to be rid of the ditzy bitch, with whom he had only been dating a week, and now he could focus on his current interest: Goten.


He had been careful for the past few months around Goten; increasing the amount of compliments given to his friend; offering to pay for their meals and other purchases during their Hogsmeade visits; he's even gone as far as doing whole homework assignments for him. Still, Goten seemed oblivious to his under-handed advancements, mistaking them merely as actions of extreme kindness.


Today, however, he decided to stop being so subtle, and just come out and speak his feelings. He was so excited while talking to Goten, that he had forgotten to mention his other methods of pitching woo that had been left unnoticed.


But it didn't matter now. He was almost certain that he could get Goten to fall for him. They were so perfect for each other, they simply had to be together!


Confidently, Trunks strode back over to the spot where he and Goten were sitting before. Goten was still there, and seemed to be gazing off at the mountains in the distance.


"Thinking of me?" He asked cockily, throwing his cloak down once more to sit on it.


Goten jumped at the abrupt distraction. He hadn't expected Trunks back so soon, being that Christina was extremely clingy. He thought that the break-up would take much longer than just a quarter of an hour.


He looked over at his best friend, who sat close by him, practically gazing at him as if he were god-sent.  "Actually..." He began slowly, trying to choose his words carefully, "I was."


"Oh?" Trunks said, extremely interested, "Good thoughts, I hope."


"Well...I was thinking that...when I come home with you tomorrow, we could talk about this whole relationship thing further. I can give you my decision then." He stared into Trunks' bright blue eyes hopefully, only to be met with a scowl.


"You don't want me now?" He asked, making it sound more like a demand. He didn't bother to hide the hurt in his voice, and Goten feared a tantrum creeping closer.


"I-I just want to m-make sure that our friendship won't be, y'know, ruined."


"Ruined?" Trunks repeated in a horrified whisper; Goten shrunk back at the look he was given, fearing that he had made a grave mistake in what he had just said. Still, the older saiyan continued, "After all the shit I did for you?! The stuff I bought?! The homework I slaved through?! I did all that shit to please you, Goten! To prove my worth as your lover!" He gripped Goten by the forearms and stared desperately into his eyes, "Was it not good enough? Do you need more? I'll suck your dick right here and now, if that's what it takes," He then began fumbling with the button of Goten's black slacks.


"Ah-Trunks, you don't have to--" Goten gasped, as he grabbed Trunks' quick-moving hands, which had managed to have the pants unbuttoned and unzipped, "I'll do it," He said a little breathlessly, nervous from the prospect of getting a blow-job in plain sight of the castle's residents. He looked around quickly to see if anyone was watching, "I'll go out with you, alright?"


Trunks' expression brightened once more. "Really?" He asked, wrapping his arms around Goten's neck, and pulled him into an embrace. "I promise you won't regret this," He murmured, pressing his lips to his new boyfriend's neck, "You are my heart, Goten," He pulled back to look into dark brown eyes. He held Goten's face in his hands, "I love you." He said, following his loving words with a gentile kiss.


-0-


Upon showing a VIP's pass  after a few hours of flight, Vegeta and Goku entered the club, which was called "Players". The club was exclusive to people of certain caliber; in a nutshell: old money and new money. Looks did not matter, as long as one had deep pockets and a fat wallet.


The bass thudded heavily, and the dark, stuffy place mingled with the scents of smoke, perfume, and sweat. Goku found his senses overwhelmed by the flashing lights; the closeness of the grinding bodies around him; and the entrancing music. Vegeta, who was unfazed by his surroundings, had never taken him to a place like this; It was always a bar of some sort.


He was thankful for the prince's hand on his wrist, because he was certain that he would get lost, or simply pass out from the sensory overload.


Vegeta led Goku through the moving crowd. He hadn't been to this particular club in a while, and figured it would be a nice change from the usual bars he was accustomed to. His eyes were set toward a more private sector, devoted to only the most honored of club members.


It was here, in this guarded section, that members could sit at private tables, and drink at a bar that served drinks of the highest quality. There were also stages set up so that exotic dancers could perform for the exclusive guests. Members can request whichever dancer they want to personally enact for them, or merely act as a companion.


"What kind of place is this?" Goku asked after Vegeta had shown his pass to a second guard, who kept people out of the exclusive section, and found them a particularly secluded place to sit. His wide, innocent eyes fell upon a woman dancer, who was almost completely out of her clothes, and blushed intently as he looked away.


Vegeta had to laugh at Goku's reaction to the place. It wasn't unexpected, but that didn't make it any less funny. "Its a club, Kakarrot,"


"Do people here normally take their clothes off? Should I, so that way I fit in?"


"Sure, go ahead, but make sure you're on stage while you're doing it. Oh, and don't forget to do a dance, too."


Goku started to look a bit nervous, "But, Vegeta, you know that I can't dance. I can't tell you how many times I stepped on Chi-Chi's toes when she was tryina teach me."


Vegeta's face fell, "You honestly can't be taking me seriously," He said flatly, "Just make yourself useful and get us some drinks, please," He pointed at the neon-lit bar, which was to the far right. There was a small crowd already there.


"What do you want?" The younger saiyan asked, making sure he had some sort of identification on him.


"Oh, I don't know," The older saiyan said distractedly, as his eyes were watching the newest dancer that had just strutted onto the stage closest to their table, "something with tequila in it."


Goku left the table while Vegeta continued to watch the person on the stage dance to a sensual beat. It was a man this time; a very pretty man with shoulder-length black hair, fair complexion, and a slight build. He carried himself confidently, almost conceitedly, which added Vegeta's interest in him.


Looking over at the bar, the prince saw that Goku was still busy with obtaining drinks. He then focused his attention back to the dancer, who had removed his shirt by now; he had a very good idea of how to capture this man's attention. He already had an audience of people, mainly women, waving money and cat-calling drunkenly.


Some people have no class, Vegeta thought amusedly, striding over to the stage. He'd just have to show these idiots just how to catch the attention of a man who obviously had high standards.


-8-


Seventeen smiled inwardly upon realizing that he had captured the attention of such a good-looking man. He had the arrogance and attitude of a man who knew exactly what the hell he wanted, and obtained what he wanted effortlessly. This intrigued the dancer greatly, especially being that this man was, thankfully, a great change from the philandering women and perverted older men he attracted.


Eager to keep this sexy stranger's attention, he decided to really show off for him. He locked his pale blue eyes onto Vegeta's black ones, and slowly dropped low, running his hands down his bare chest and along his black, skin-tight pants (which were dramatically flared at the bottom).


He then got on his hands and knees and crawled seductively toward his target. Ignoring the raucous behavior of his audience, he smiled at the spiky-haired man and gently stroked a forefinger under his chin.


An amused smirk broke across the stranger's face. He felt a hand gently grab a piece of his black hair, as the man opened his mouth to speak.


"When you're through playing," He said in a low whisper, releasing the hair he held, "Come over to my table."


"Absolutely," Seventeen replied. He slid back and started back on his routine.


The sexy stranger smirked once more and lazily tossed some cash onto the stage. Seventeen returned the smile and watched the man swagger off. He didn't get to work out his best moves, and he was already getting invited to that gorgeous man's table.


He finished his performance, and collected his discarded shirt and cash that was thrown onto the stage. He walked backstage to the dressing rooms and pulled his shirt back on. Sitting in front of the mirror, he stared at his reflection.


"Do you want some?" Asked  one of the other male strippers that occupied the mirror next to his.


"What? Oh, sure." Seventeen's eyes followed where his co-worker was pointing, which was the surface of the table the mirror stood upon. On the table were three two-inch-long lines of white powder.


He tucked his hair behind his ear and bent low over the lines. He pushed in one of his nostrils and inhaled one of the lines through the other. It was harder to do, being that he didn't have a halved straw to channel the powder through, but he still managed to inhale it in one go.


This was his life. Summed up, it was one big crazy party. Despite his depressingly sheltered childhood, he chose to live life extravagantly. Drugs of all kinds were easily available to him; though he was particularly fond of marijuana. It was easiest to obtain in large quantities, and he could still function perfectly while being high at the same time.


Frequent casual sex with strangers was another vice of his. Of course, his partners were always men, being that he had an general distaste for women, thanks to his past. He had no regards to his partners; age and marital status weren't an issue, as long as the man he chose was very  attractive. He's even, on occasion, accepted payment for his sexual performances.


Oh, yeah. He had quite the reputation of his promiscuity, love of drugs and wild parties, but he embraced it. Because of his exotic job, he had an open door to his thoroughly-enjoyed profligate lifestyle; he could escape into a fantasy world with a simple phone call.


He wiped the stray powder off of his nose and looked back at his reflection. He smiled at himself; if all else goes smoothly, he was about to get real lucky with a very attractive--and wealthy, judging from the two one-hundred dollar notes left on the stage--person. It was times like these that he was glad he was graced with such good looks.


Feeling extremely energetic, thanks mostly to the drug he just inhaled, as well as the prospect of bedding a hot stranger, He stood up.


"What's with that shit-eating grin on your face?" The man who offered him drugs asked, "I bet'cha someone's asked you to fuck, huh?"


"Maybe," Seventeen said distractedly, checking the rest of his body in the mirror, "He certainly tipped me well, that's for sure."


"Damn," the guy said, "I wish I could get as much pussy as you get dick...and I ain't talking about them ugly drunk bitches that be hangin' around, either."


Seventeen rolled his eyes, "Don't act so desperate," He said, scoffing.  Ignoring his co-worker's obvious need to keep whining, he strode out of the dressing room. Sure it was a bitchy move, but so what? He was a bitch. Plus, he had a wealthy god-like man waiting on his company; no sense in keeping him waiting any longer.


-8-

He confidently, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, walked out into the VIP lounge.  His immediately fell on the wealthy stranger, who sat alone at his secluded table, drink in hand. The man smiled darkly and raised his free hand lazily in salutation.


Seventeen returned the look, but then it suddenly turned to mild surprise as he saw a taller, softer-faced man, carrying drinks, sit down at the table across from the other. He should have known that the man who held his attention was taken; not that it stopped him before, of course, it just made things a little more complicated.


Still, his presence was requested, and he was to abide by the customer's wishes. He stood by the table and leaned against it on one arm. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting," He smiled.


"Oh, I'm sure you'll make up for it one way, or another," The shorter man replied with a smirk, gesturing Seventeen to join the table.


Seventeen did as he was told, and looked over at the taller man. He didn't have the regal baring that the other did, nor the sex-appeal, but he was still cute nonetheless. Not quite boy-next-door cute, but blissfully-ignorant cute.


I'd still have fun with him.


"You know Vegeta?" The man asked, seeming to be genuinely surprised by the newcomer of the table.


Seventeen looked at who he just learned was Vegeta with a 'is this guy serious?' kind of look, then retained his composure.  "Its not that we know each other," He said in a charming voice, "As much as we just share a--ah--similar interest."


"So, you like to fight, too?"


Vegeta choked on his drink, "Kakarrot," He rasped, trying to keep laughing, "You can't possibly be that clueless,"


"I'm actually intrigued that you two are fighters," The long-haired man said with much interest, "Of course, it doesn't surprise me," His pale blue eyes roved over the part of Vegeta's body which was visible to him.


"What's your name, anyway?" The man--Kakarrot--said after downing his drink, "Mine's Goku, but Vegeta likes to call me Kakarrot, or a blundering idiot when he thinks I'm not listening," He leaned forward slightly and smiled roguishly, "But I really am listening." He then grabbed another glass of liquor and started drinking it.


"Very cute," The stripper laughed breathily, "I'm Seventeen, and--"


Goku's eyes widened, "But I didn't think that they allowed underage kids in places like this,"


"Kakarrot, why don't you get more drinks," Vegeta said, nodding his head and smiling falsely, "Besides, you downed most of them yourself, including mine."


"Should I just get anything, again?" Goku asked, forgetting entirely about his mini-shock concerning the stripper, "I really want one of those white Russians again," He added mostly to himself.


"Sure, sure, whatever," The prince replied dismissively.


Goku got up a little wobbly, then straightened himself, then proceeded to stagger slightly toward the bar.


"If you have any plans later," Vegeta began once him and the stripper were alone, "You should cancel them."


Seventeen smiled, "And what could possibly be so pressing," He propped his head in his hand and gazed at the saiyan, "That you would pull me from my plans--assuming I had any."


Vegeta slid his hand against Seventeen's leg, "I think you know exactly what I'm talking about," His hand gripped the thigh it touched and slid upward, "And I seriously doubt you have any plans."


Seventeen's smirk broadened. This man would definitely be difficult to bully. The prospect of a challenge excited him even more; he was going to have a lot of fun tonight. "So, are we going to your place, or mine?" He placed his smaller hand on the Saiyan's, urging it further up.


"Have you ever fucked in a castle?" He asked with a smirk, as he teasingly brushed his hand against.


"A castle?! I've never even seen one, let alone fucked in one. I can't even compare my other sexual experiences with that."


"I guess that answers that , then."


"Your boyfriend, Goku," Seventeen jerked his head toward the bar, where Goku was still ordering, "He's not going to be upset, right? I mean, I don't care, I'd just rather avoid any unnecessary complications."


"We aren't together," Vegeta said simply, "And even if we were, he'd have to deal with it, because that's just how I am. I fuck whoever I want, when I want, where I want."


"I like you more, already. Is your friend going to join us, too, then?"


"Kakarrot is kind of new at this," Vegeta said, darting his eyes toward the bar. Goku was coming their way with a waiter behind him carrying the drinks. There were quite a few of them; each a different kind. "But considering his current state, he should warm up to it fine, if he doesn't get too plastered."


Seventeen gave a small chuckle, "I'm sure it will be quite fun, regardless." His eyes shifted over to the digital clock above the bar, "My shift ends in five minutes; we can leave afterward, if you wish." He stood up as Goku joined back at the table. Goku gave him a puzzled look, which he returned with a flirtatious smile, "See you in a few," He said.


-8-

"Damn," Seventeen began hours later when he landed on the rolling lawns of Vegeta's castle, "When you said you lived way out there, I thought you meant some sort of suburb, not the boonies." He stared up at the immaculate castle, and then around at the surrounding moonlit elaborate gardens and far-off dark forests at the lawn's edges. It was still hot and humid, but not nearly as hot as earlier.


Vegeta landed a moment later with a severely-drunk Goku using him as support. "I like the privacy," He said, helping Goku to the huge double-doors.


Seventeen followed behind, curious to see inside the castle, as well as eager to get laid. The sex had better be spectacular after all that goddamned flying, He thought moodily.


"The bitch finally fixed the AC," Vegeta said mostly to himself as they stepped into the high-ceilinged stone foyer. A large, dark chandelier with white and green lit candles hung from the ceiling, and a handsome elaborately-decorated carpet lay at their feet. Hanging on the walls on either side were two wide green and silver tapestries with an entwined serpent adorning its front. Underneath the serpent said the word "Slytherin".


Seventeen said nothing, and continued to follow the other two through the castle. He had reason to believe that Vegeta was part of some sort of cult or secret society, due to the fact that green and silver seemed to be the main source of color scheme, and the "Slytherin" serpent was a recurring symbol.


They entered  an enormous hall that led to two different first-floor halls on either side of a wide set of stairs to the north. The northern stairs branched off to the east and west at the top. Green and silver tapestries, with snakes on them,  decorated the stone walls, as well as moving paintings of important figureheads in cloaks.


The stripper had to wonder more and more about what kind of place he was taken to; never before had he seen moving pictures, and he was quite certain one of the portrait's characters called him something that sounded suspiciously like "Muggle". Every sound he made, it seemed, was magnified ten-fold by the enormity of the room they walked in. He wasn't used to such suffocating quiet, as he lived in an apartment in the city.


"Kakarrot," Vegeta said suddenly, stopping and looking at the extremely wasted younger saiyan, "If you're going to get sick, then hurry down the left hall and use that restroom; its closer."


"I...don' think..." Goku slurred, "I can go...by mahself," He hiccupped loudly, and leaned heavily on the older saiyan.


The prince rolled his eyes and groaned. His original plans were getting pushed back further. He didn't drink too much specifically for this reason; he really wanted to enjoy his guest. He pegged Seventeen as the kind of person to get bored easily, and taking care of a drunken idiot isn't much for entertainment for guests, in his opinion.


"I'll be back in a moment," He muttered, "Just stay here." He started to lead Goku down the hall, "Oh, and ignore the paintings." He added over his shoulder, as if he were mentioning something as miniscule as a creaky stair. He then disappeared behind the threshold of the left-hand hall beside the wide staircase.


"Ignore the paintings he says," Scoffed a mean-looking bearded man from a particularly large painting that hung between two tapestries on the right-hand wall, "Here he is bringing drunken Squibs and Muggles into the castle, and he expects us to stay quiet."


"Vegeta's father would never allow such disgrace," Came the pompous-voice that belonged to a painting of a pointed-nosed man wearing rich robes of deep purple. His painting was on the opposite wall, "Impossible to believe he belongs to a royal bloodline."


The paintings can speak with each other! Seventeen thought in amazement, though he was also disturbed greatly. He stared around at the pictures, and noticed that only three inhabitants--for lack of a better term--were awake. And Vegeta's supposedly royal?  He continued in his head.


"This piece of trash," Said another painting; a younger man with amazingly good looks, "Looks no older than Vegeta's horrid little devil spawn of a son."


Seventeen tried to ignore the painting's snobby remarks. He had no clue what they were talking about, after all, but he wasn't going to stand to be called 'trash'.


"Excuse me," He said, glaring at the handsome-faced painted man. He suddenly felt like an idiot for arguing with a painting, but it was obvious it had a mind of its own, "I am not trash!"


The angry old man in the large painting gasped, as if he were the one being called names, "The filthy  little Muggle dares to speak to us!"


"Yeah, I'm talking to you," Seventeen continued to argue, "And what are you going to do about it? You're just a painting!"


"Just the state of his clothing is enough to deserve being snubbed," The pompous painting said, "I'd never walk around in ripped trousers,"


The stripper looked down. In his opinion, he looked great. He had changed out of his stripping clothes and into casual ones, but they weren't ugly. His pants were made ripped and faded the way they were, anyway!


"Simple-minded Muggles," The pompous painting chortled.


"What the hell is a fucking Muggle?!" Seventeen yelled out, losing all sense of formality, being that he was sick and tired of being called a word he had never even heard of before. And as for simple-minded, he prided himself on being highly intelligent and clever.


"You are," Vegeta said simply, striding back into the room, "I told you to just ignore them." He took in Seventeen's disgruntled appearance, "Anyway, we're going upstairs, and you don't have to worry about them up there." He gestured Seventeen to follow him, as he headed toward the staircase.


While Vegeta wasn't looking, Seventeen took the opportunity to stick his middle finger up at the paintings that teased him.


Vegeta led him up the stone steps. A marble banister at the top made for an excellent overlook of the massive hall, and the ceiling up here was much lower. Metal chandeliers lined the halls on either side, but Vegeta took him down the east-wing. There were no paintings down this hall, only more tapestries.


This time, each green and silver tapestry was alternated with a white and red tapestry. On the white tapestries was an odd, red, three-pronged symbol that looked similar to the Japanese Yen sign. He wanted to ask questions about these decorations, but he felt it best to just keep his mind on one thing (sex), since he was only going to be there for a few hours to one night, depending on how things went.


Occasionally, he passed handsomely-decorated wooden doors, which assumedly led to bed rooms. The hall was quite long, and seemed to turn at the end, so Seventeen hoped they made it to Vegeta's room soon. He was interested in the castle, but he didn't want to walk forever.


Vegeta led him down the corner (which turned left), to the very end of the hall, where a lone door stood. At the wall to the right of the door, was a magnificent protruding window that had a great view of one of the gardens below. Seventeen didn't have time to look more, because Vegeta opened the door, revealing a tightly-spiraling staircase that belonged to one of the few towers.


More walking. Seventeen thought as he silently followed the mysterious castle dweller up the stairs. He felt dizzy after the first few turns, but was thankful that the stairs weren't that high up.


A gold and silver ladder was there to greet them at the top of the stairs, and Vegeta ascended, disappearing through a human-sized hole at the top. They were finally at the bed room.


Seventeen expected to see more green and silver, but he was dead wrong. His eyes were greeted by a sea of ultramarine and saffron.


The circular-shaped bed room was as large as his whole apartment. Ceiling-high windows lined the walls, and were adorned with saffron-colored curtains that trailed to the masterfully crafted diamond-patterned parquet floors. Three crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and white candles glowed from the holders.


Gold-framed chairs with ultramarine velvet padding decorated the room, and also surrounded a gold-framed table that stood catty-cornered over to the far right. A handsome, white-painted, wooden desk occupied the opposite side; on it stood fragile objects of silver and crystal. Behind it stood a door, which probably led to a restroom of sorts.


The best attraction was, of course, the massive four-poster bed that stood on a circular platform close to the center of the room. The frame was white and gold, and had intricate carvings on it. Saffron and ultramarine curtains hung lazily from the posts; thick, exuberantly-decorated blue covers were draped over the mattress, and were topped with matching pillows.


In a nut-shell, the room was worth the journey it took to get there.


Before Seventeen could get over his initial shock, and decide what surface he wanted to have sex on first, he was pulled by rough hands into a deep kiss. He eagerly returned the sudden gesture, opening his mouth as an invitation for Vegeta's tongue to enter.


Vegeta's hands on him tightened their hold, and he was pressed against his body.


"Damn," The older man said, "You're really packing, aren't you?"


Realizing what Vegeta meant, Seventeen laughed. "Its a gun," He said, lifting his shirt to reveal the handle of a hand-gun that was stuck down the front of his jeans, "You can't be too careful." He removed the shiny, chrome pistol and laid it on a tiny, spindly table nearby.


"A man who values his life," Vegeta said, pulling Seventeen back to him, "Admirable, but it won't save you against me; I'm dangerous."


Seventeen gave an amused hum, "Dangerous men turn me on," He smiled, and, feeling bold, he slid one of his hands down to the front of the other man's pants to rub up against his forming erection.


They made out fervently, only interrupted by removal of an article of clothing, until they had clumsily made it to the magnificent bed.


Seventeen grunted as he was shoved unceremoniously onto his back. He definitely wasn't used to being submissive in bed, since he preferred being the one calling the shots. As of now, though, he didn't care; he had never been bedded in such a magnificent place, that he himself felt like royalty. He'd be the bitch any time, if it meant he got to lay in such comfort each go.


"What do you think?" Vegeta asked a little breathlessly, pulling down his boxers, his only article of clothing left.


Seventeen's eyes trailed down the older man's obsessively-trained body until they stopped at the rock-hard cock-stand. "Impressive," He said, still staring.


Vegeta smirked, and looked down, "Well, that too, but I was mostly talking about this room." He grinned at his bed partner, enjoying the view of his body; fair-skinned and thin, with light muscle-tone, much like a runner's body.


"You're lucky," the stripper replied, raising his hips to allow Vegeta to slide his fabulous ripped jeans down over his ass and legs, "What are you? A drug lord?" He asked, mostly just joking.


"Wouldn't you like to know?" Vegeta asked teasingly, dipping down to run the tip of his tongue along Seventeen's collarbone and neck. He spread the man's legs open with his knees, eager to enter him.


Seventeen wrapped his arms around the other man's neck and braced himself for the pain. He inhaled sharply as he felt wet fingers teasing him to readiness. The size of Vegeta's cock was a cause of concern, arousal, and intrigue, and he relaxed his body as much as he could, so as to lessen the initial pain.


He cried aloud, and Vegeta gave a low, yet, pleasured groan as he was entered hastily. Vegeta wasted no time getting to work, and he began rocking his hips back an forth, ignoring the feeling of sharp nails digging into his flesh.


Before he could get used to being penetrated in the traditional position, Seventeen was flipped unceremoniously onto his stomach, and his hips pulled upward roughly. He gasped upon re-entry, and continued to make such noises as Vegeta's hips rammed into his backside almost violently.


His own cock throbbed uncomfortably, and he was aware of his own hardness once more, being that he was now getting used to the pain. "Stroke me," He managed to say, hoping Vegeta would be kind enough to oblige.


And he was. Vegeta's own saliva-moistened hand gripped the unattended hard on, and began jacking it purposefully. The nails of the other hand dug mercilessly into soft flesh, trying to keep a hold on the body.


Vegeta leaned over Seventeen's body, hand still on the man's cock, and kissed the heated skin of his shoulder blade. He was lost in a fog of incredible pleasure, and barely realized when the younger man had released onto his hand and bed, because he himself was so close to his first one.


But was he done with his guest? Oh, hell, no. He was happy to not be known for being a one-hitter-quitter, like a lot of men. He had enough energy, and pain-tolerance, for all-nighters, and he planned on utilizing it, because he had nothing to worry about the next day.


Allowing a moan to escape his parted lips, he came hard inside of Seventeen. He could feel the younger man's body start to collapse, but he held it up  in his sticky hands. "What makes you think I'm anywhere near done with you?" He laughed almost cruelly.


Seventeen felt rough hands run over the dip in his back, and the cock that never left him re-harden. Something told him that he was in for a very long night.


-8-


Several hours later, Vegeta left a worn and beaten Seventeen snoozing in his bed. His bare feet padded against the floor as he collected his clothes and slipped them back on.


He hadn't meant to ditch Goku in the downstairs bathroom, but as the young stripper kept him quite occupied, the thought of his saiyan friend slipped his mind.


Vegeta felt Goku's ki; he was still in the bathroom. Fucking idiot, he thought bitterly, exiting the bed room. He hoped and hoped that Goku didn't leave a mess, despite the fact that he could clean it easily with a flick of his wizard's wand.


He Apparated to the bathroom and opened the door. No mess, thankfully, just Goku passed out in the freestanding bath tub. His footfalls echoed in the quiet, spacious marble room as he strode over to the bath tub. He peered in, and noticed that there wasn't any water in it, thankfully.


Though the tub was quite large, Goku's long legs still dangled out of it, because he was slumped down in it so far. He seemed fine, albeit a little uncomfortable, since he was breathing loudly and deeply. Still, the fool didn't need to be in such a position, and would probably be rather hurt that he was left that way when he woke up.


"Fuck, Kakarrot, get your retarded ass up," Vegeta grunted, pulling Goku by the arms to get him in a sitting position. Goku's head lolled backward, and he gave a small grunt; other than that, he was unresponsive.


He released one of the arms and gave Goku's face a hard slap, "Wake the fuck up," He commanded.


"Ow!" Goku whined, opening his eyes a miniscule amount, "Wha'dja do tha' for?"


"Your drunk ass passed out in the tub," Vegeta said, helping Goku completely to his feet.


Goku rubbed his hand over his face, "I don' 'member nothin'," He mumbled, rubbing his face with his hands.


Vegeta thought for a moment, "Perhaps that's best," He took the taller saiyan's arm and wrapped it around his shoulder. Goku was still quite drunk, and sleepy, so he had a hard time maneuvering without help.


He led the younger saiyan directly across the hall to a wide threshold that had a set of intricately carved, tall, wooden double-doors. He pushed one of the doors open, allowing the light from the hall to pour into the room.


It was one of the smaller sitting-rooms; decorated with furniture of a rich carnelian color. Exuberant paintings, the subjects snoozing in their frames, covered the higher parts of the walls, while book shelves covered the bottom part.


A handsome marble-lined fireplace took up most of the back wall. It looked unused, thanks to central heat and air being installed, but was still impressive nonetheless.


Vegeta laid Goku down on one of the longer couches that was positioned perpendicular to the fireplace. He said nothing, and turned to leave, but a hand around his wrist stopped him.


The prince sighed, "What is it, Kakarrot?" He asked,  "I'm rather tired, myself, and would really like to go back upstairs,"


Goku gave a small, pitiful smile as he looked up at Vegeta's frowning face. He tugged on the wrist he held, pulling the smaller man to him.


Upon realizing what was going on, Vegeta tensed his body, causing Goku's actions to cease. "Wait until you aren't wasted, and don't smell like puke to try and entice me."


The younger saiyan didn't put up a fight and dropped his arm. "G'night, 'Geta," He mumbled.


Vegeta said nothing back, and walked with echoing footsteps out of the room, shutting the door behind him.


-8-

"He's going to be pissed," Bulma said to herself as she stepped into shiny, black high-heels. It was around seven in the morning, and the Capsule Corp CEO just got called in for a last-minute meeting with the plant managers of one of the newly-built factories. The meeting with the manager was in an adjoining country, so her flight wouldn't be that long. Still, she wouldn't be able to pick Trunks up from the Hogwarts train platform; Vegeta would have to.


She knew that Vegeta hated to be interrupted in the middle of sleep, but this was for the sake of her son. She'd ask Chi-Chi to do it, as she normally fetched Goten from the platform, but Chi-Chi wasn't the biggest fan of Trunks, due to his attitude.


And what an attitude he had. Bulma was quite certain that Trunks wouldn't take too kindly to his father picking him up. She didn't know what she feared more, Vegeta's reaction to being woken up early, or Trunks' reaction to having to deal with his father as soon as he got off the train.


She hated that Vegeta and Trunks hardly got along; they were both alike in many ways. Both were demanding and had fiery tempers. Both were also very manipulative, and proud to the point of being narcissists.


They argued often, only ending when one of them storms to their rooms and slams the door hard enough to cause pictures to fall off of the walls. Occasionally, their fights turned physical. Trunks was not a violent person, but when provoked, he could be as scary as Vegeta.  


Bulma sighed and grabbed her purse off the cushioned hope chest at the foot of her bed. Her eyes traveled up to stare depressingly at the bed's sleeping occupant: Yamcha. She went to kiss him and let him know she was leaving, but decided against it, and left her room.


Things weren't always this way. There was once a time where she shared a bed, and had sex with her husband, instead of her ex-boyfriend.


Unfortunately, her marriage had reached the end of its plateau and started its decline five years ago when her parents died, one shortly after the other. She then had to take on full responsibility of Capsule Corp., which tied up any free time she had to devote to her marriage and son.


She tried to balance out her time at work, and  time with her family, but with the demands of more Capsule Corp. products rising, her time spent away from home rose with it. It was slow at first, but she found herself with less in common with her husband, and also less attracted to him. She was at the top of her game; her company was number two in the Fortune 500 ranking; she alone was also considered the richest woman in the world. She could have whatever, and whomever she wanted, but she stuck with Vegeta.


Vegeta was once determined and driven. Whatever he did, he did it passionately, which caused their sex to be spectacular. Bulma was never more attracted to anyone than him. Just the way he used to strut around, like he was god-sent, was enough to cause her very loins to ache with desire.


Now, in her opinion, he was just a mean bastard. He had lost his fire, and his interest in anything, even his respectable career, because no one ever presented him with a challenge, with Goku being the only exception.


He kept to himself and ignored his family; only sparing the time to spar with Goku, and go to work. Bulma started to resent him for it, which also caused her to drive herself further away. This went on for a while, but after an extremely heated argument, Bulma gathered up all of her things and moved to another wing of the castle entirely. The room wasn't nearly as large, nor had near as much grandeur as the tower bed room did, but it suited her needs and tastes.


With her desire for sex with Vegeta completely diminished, she started looking elsewhere for company. She had many partners before she decided to just stick with Yamcha. Yamcha fulfilled her needs for a strictly-physical relationship; he never begged her for money, since he had plenty from being the manager of his old baseball team; he also wasn't clinging to her, or begging her to divorce Vegeta like all the other men did (they were only after her wealth, after all).


She was grateful that he respected the fact that Vegeta and herself stayed married for the sake of public appearances; Vegeta was a high-standing governor for the Ministry of Magic, and she had Capsule Corp. This meant that the media was a constant threat, and any outside relationships had to be kept hushed up. If they were to divorce, their reputations would be tarnished, and neither one of them could afford that.


Trunks was also another cause of concern. Bulma knew that her son knew she and Vegeta had marital problems, but she was very careful to keep her affairs a secret when Trunks was home on summer and Christmas break, which meant that the boy knew nothing of Yamcha.


She felt so guilty for it, but she had a tendency to spoil him with material possessions and leniency in order to keep him happy. This is one of the reasons why she and Vegeta argue occasionally. She knew that Trunks likes to take advantage of her, but if it keept a smile on his face, she'd do whatever it took to keep it there.


Without bothering to indicate that she was in the vicinity, Bulma ascended the ladder leading to Vegeta's bed room. She didn't feel the need to, after all, since he was asleep.


But she was wrong. Her eyes widened slightly and she felt a twinge of annoyance upon entering the room, as she saw another person, assumedly a black-haired woman, leaning out of one of the massive windows. She couldn't see the person's face, but she could tell "she" was smoking, due to the tell-tale stream of smoke floating up and out with the breeze. Vegeta never let her openly smoke in the castle (not that she hasn't done some sneaking around before).


She was about to demand the little sex-kitten tell her where Vegeta was, when her quarry decided to grace her with his appearance. He obviously just showered, being that he was clad in only a towel loosely wrapped around his hips, and he had just stepped out of the adjoining bathroom. It was odd that he would be up this at this hour, unless he was tempted to rise  early; and judging by his current company, he must have been very tempted.


She checked her watch; she was going to be late if she didn't act now. "Vegeta," She said in a would-be-friendly voice. She glanced over at the girl at the window, but the bitch seemed to not care about the intrusion, and kept smoking.


The prince, who stood at the closet, glared at her, "What?" He growled out, not at all happy to see his wife.


"I have a last-minute meeting to attend," She said, drawing herself up, to show that Vegeta would not intimidate her, "So you'll have to pick Trunks up from the train station. My meeting is in another country, and I will not return in time."


"Then you'll just have to cancel," Vegeta said, choosing a shirt from the closet, and holding it out to see if he liked it, "I'm not going any-damn-where; I have the week off."


Bulma sighed, "Vegeta, you know I can't cancel this meeting. As much as I hate doing these factory walks, I have to attend them..."


Vegeta let Bulma ramble on. He remembered that Goku's wife had asked Goku to fetch Goten. He also knew that the blundering idiot would be in no fit state to go by himself. Now, he could let the fool go home to his wife, get bitched out, then he himself get bitched out by the harpy for allowing Goku to get so far-gone; OR, he could go with Goku, pick his son up, as well as Goten, and end his own wife's whining.


"Vegeta," Bulma said, sounding extremely impatient now, "Are you listening?"


"I'll do it," Vegeta answered, "If only to shut you up, I'll do it. Now get the fuck out of here, please, and get your little friend out of here, as well."


"Thanks," The woman answered, not at all meaning it. She straightened her skirt and descended the ladder.


"This example of bitchiness is why I dislike women," She heard an unfamiliar male's voice say as she was halfway down the latter. She closed her eyes and shook her head to rid herself of the mental images that had formed in her head. The person at the window was, in fact, a "he" not a "she". It was kind of a low-blow to find out her husband was having sex with other men. Had sex with her really got that old?


She fought the urge to go back up the ladder and show that man-whore a real bitch, being that she was starting to run late for her meeting. She just hoped that Vegeta would have enough sense to send him packing when it was time for Trunks to come home.

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