Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Underlying Conspiracy ❯ part 9 ( Chapter 9 )

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ. I'm not making any money.

Warnings: Shounen-ai, Goku x Vegeta

A/N: Thanks to achillona for her support!

 

 

Underlying Conspiracy

 

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Veronica

 

Part 9

 

The steam in the bathroom was dense, the mirror covered in dew. Goku closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the end of the bathtub. He exhaled happily. Life was beautiful. Going home, having a nice, hot bath, being relaxed. What more could one need?

 

A minute later, the water in the bathtub swirled. A few seconds later, the whirls calmed down. Another two minutes later Goku gave his privates a good scratch again. Yes, Goku thought, one could do with a good shave. He stood up and started ransacking the cupboard that hung over the bathtub. After a few moments of searching, he brandished a razor. A little unsure, Goku looked down at his privates, then raised his head to look at the razor. He didn't have much experience in these things.

 

“Hmm…” Goku hummed, taking the soap from its container. “The slicker the better,” he decided.

 

Ten minutes later Goku could be found grimacing in pain. He washed the razor in the bathtub, letting the hairs that were stuck in the blades join their merrily swimming friends in the water. Then he took another look at himself. He would have been perfectly content but for about ten cuts. Nonetheless, he thought he managed to deal with this quite well - despite the enormous pain, he still had his thingy on. He had no idea how people did this just for…for...

 

Goku blinked. Actually why did people do it?

 

Sighing, Goku reached his arm out to put the razor back in its place above the bathtub. “Hmm…” he wondered after his eye caught a few hairs sticking out from under his armpit. “Hmm…” he hummed again.

 

XXXXX

 

Vegeta was trying to make dinner from whatever scraps he managed to find in his and Goku's capsules. He startled at the scream that suddenly came from behind him.

 

“What?” he turned around. “What?!”

 

“Don't!” Goku approached him carefully, on his tiptoes. “Don't touch the stove,” he whispered. “Now slowly, carefully move away from it. Don't touch the switch… Vegeta… be good, don't…”

 

“Oh for fuck's sake!” Vegeta cursed, sticking a knife right through the cutting board and into the cupboard underneath it. “I'm perfectly capable of cooking!”

 

Goku gave a fearful look at the still vibrating knife. Two more centimeters and it would have gone straight into the gas-stove burner and blown both them and the house to bits.

 

“It's not that you're incapable of cooking…” Goku said, carefully approaching him. “It's rather that kitchens don't like you. They tend to…blow up. Do you remember what happened last time when you tried to make a stew?”

 

Vegeta nodded. He could still remember carrots stuck in the ceiling. It took about a day for Bulma's father to pry all of them out.

 

“Well, then it's best you move away from the gas-stove,” Goku said.

 

Vegeta scowled at him. He reached out for a pan. No failure had ever reduced his determination. Even if it killed him which, by the way, happened not that rarely. “We'll be having eggs and…” Vegeta looked around. “Tomatoes, potatoes, onions, noodles and milk?” he finished enumerating without missing a beat.

 

Goku scratched his head. “Well, I'm glad you know how to fry eggs. I think we can also do something with those potatoes.” He sniffed around. “Why do I smell gas?” His gaze went towards the stove. “Don't touch the matches, Vegeta.”

 

“Hmm?” Vegeta wondered. “I never thought about touching them.” He raised his hand. Goku grabbed at it.

 

“And no ki either,” he said, switching the stove off. He went to open the window and air out the kitchen. Then he turned around to take in the mess Vegeta had caused in the kitchen. Trying to think of the best way to prepare everything, he ruffled through his hair.

 

“Kakarott?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“What the hell is wrong with your armpit?”

 

“Hmm?” Goku drawled, absentmindedly. He turned his head to take a look at his armpit. “Oh. I shaved it.”

 

There was a loud clang as Vegeta dropped the pan he was holding to the floor. He stared at Goku.

 

“I'm a bit afraid to ask, but why?” he managed finally.

 

“Oh, you know,” Goku blushed, “it was those crabs. So I was shaving myself and then, I suppose, I got caught up in the moment and…well, here,” he whispered, embarrassed, raising his both arms for Vegeta to see.

 

“Riiight,” Vegeta said. He stared at Goku, then stared at him some more. A wistful expression appeared on his face. “So you are all clean? Down there?” he gulped, licking his suddenly dry lips.

 

Goku blinked. “Well…yeah. Oh,” he lowered his arms. “That reminds me. Why aren't you scratching your head anymore?”

 

Vegeta was still staring at Goku. Or, more precisely, at the front of his gi pants. “What?” he suddenly raised his head. “What did you say?”

 

“I asked why you stopped scratching your head,” Goku repeated patiently. He could swear that Vegeta's concentration was not what it used to be. Must be the age or something, he figured.

 

“Ah, that,” Vegeta nodded. “I went super Saiyan and the bugs just fried.”

 

“Oh crap!” Goku smacked himself on the forehead. “And why didn't I think of that?!”

 

Vegeta withheld his comments. “But why the heck did you have to go and shave your armpits? Blargh! Disgusting,” he scowled. “Like one of those wimpy men. Look!” Vegeta raised his right arm. “This is what a real man should look like!”

 

Goku couldn't be sure but for a split second he could swear he saw hippos and giraffes grazing in a thriving jungle. Content that he had made an impact based on the look on Goku's face, Vegeta lowered his arm.

 

“And to think that I even shaved my tail for you…” Goku muttered unconsciously. “I shouldn't have bothered. Seriously…”

 

Vegeta's brow rose. “For me…?” he whispered. He was looking at Goku with dazed eyes. Then he suddenly realized another thing. “Shaved your tail?!” he screamed in horror. “Oh my fucking god! Show it to me! How could you!?”

 

Goku scratched his head, unfazed. “It's like once you pop, you can't stop. I started and I just shaved, shaved…shaved!” he smiled tentatively.

 

Vegeta grabbed Goku by his sash and tugged at it with enough strength to make Goku spin around and unwrap.

 

“I'll soooo pop you!” Vegeta roared, as a bare pathetically reddish appendage revealed itself before his eyes. It was cut in about twenty places. “This is your Saiyan heritage! And you go and do what?! -You shave it! You shaved your Saiyan heritage! Oh my fucking god!” Vegeta tore at his hair. “You shaved it!”

 

“Oh, c'mon!” Goku threw his hands out. “It'll grow back.”

 

“I hope at least your dick is still intact!” Vegeta hissed at him, pointing at red gashes on his tail. “And hope there is still enough left to grow back at all!”

 

Goku blushed lightly. “It does hurt a little.”

 

“Oh for fuck's sake!” Vegeta threw his hands again. He had no idea what else to say. Goku was a lost cause.

 

Goku waved it off. “No need to get so agitated about this - it's just hair. Now let's see what we'll have for dinner.”

 

An hour later Goku and Vegeta could be found happily eating fried potatoes. A huge pot of noodles was still steaming on the stove.

 

“You know,” Goku purred around his chopsticks, “I think this calls for a celebration. I mean, we had a nice sightseeing tour and it all has ended well and we are going home.”

 

“You blew up the Sphinx,” Vegeta reminded him.

 

Goku's face took on a painful expression. “Please, let's forget that horrible incident. My conscience has taken a heavy blow. It tears at my heart every time I think about it.”

 

“Oh? I was sure you lived by the credo “Live your life to the fullest and never regret anything”? I mean you're always happy-go-lucky… Well, except for this story. But this doesn't count, we are completely out of character here anyway.”

 

Goku raked at his potatoes with the chopsticks. He clearly was losing his appetite and his good mood. Yes, it went the opposite way with Goku. First his appetite, then his mood.

 

“I regret a lot of things,” he admitted softly. “Like being too hot-headed in my youth and thinking only about training and leaving my sons in the care of other people. Had I known what “marriage” meant, I…”

 

Vegeta chewed on his potatoes. “I see. Honestly, if this is your sole regret, you are just like any other man. She has clipped your wings quite a bit, that Chichi, hasn't she?”

 

“Eh? But I don't need wings to fl-”

 

“It's a figure of spee-,” Vegeta growled around the potatoes in his throat. “Are you sure you aren't pretending?”

 

“Well, she does try to keep me in character. At least occasionally.”

 

“Ah, SHE again. Alright, if it's just from time to time then I can deal with that.”

 

Goku took a few slices of potatoes from his plate. He chewed on them methodically. “Really, there are too many things I regret. You know, my wife cheated on me with Piccolo. She said I was dead anyway. Funny, isn't it?”

 

Vegeta stared at Goku's teary eyes for a few uneasy seconds then lowered his head and continued chewing. “I thought the damn thing was asexual,” he muttered another few seconds later.

 

Goku scowled at him. He looked hurt. “Ass sexual. Well sure… It's easy for you to talk! I'm so freaking sorry my ass isn't so sexual!”

 

Vegeta chocked on his potatoes. Must be HER again, he thought after having regained his breath. “Yeah… green is all the rage, I suppose…” he drawled. “For someone,” he added after some thought. “So the crabs were a small present from Piccolo? But really, I could swear he was a hermaphrodite or something along those lines.”

 

“Ha!” Goku stabbed at his potatoes viciously. “As if. You wouldn't say that after catching him and your wife in your bedroom. And you should've seen his piccolo! It's this long!” he showed with his hands.

 

Vegeta's face changed colors again. “I see.”

 

“I mean,” Goku's eyes watered again, “she could have at least told me!”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I totally agree with you,” Vegeta nodded, wondering how a talk about a celebration could have turned into this.

 

“Let's drink!” Goku suddenly declared. “I'm getting divorced as soon as I get back!”

 

“Oh?” Vegeta's mood brightened noticeably. “Yes, let's celebrate that!”

 

XXXXX

 

Twenty minutes later, the two sat at the same table but with a bottle of vodka and a pot of noodles for eats. There were a couple of empty bottles around them, which they - with their Saiyan metabolisms - had already fully digested.

 

“There wazzz thizzz time,” Vegeta slurred, “when I trrried to kill you.” He threw his arm around Goku's shoulders. “I'm sor-sorry. I rr-realy `m.”

 

“Which,” Goku hiccupped, “time was i-i,” he hiccupped again. “Which time was it?” he said as quickly as he could to get out the undistorted sentence.

 

Vegeta thought for a moment. He nearly started crying. “A-all of them. So sorrryyy. I suppose i-it's when you like a p-person then you t-tease him. W-well, I know I d-do get extrrrreee-eeeme at t-times. Sorrryyy.”

 

“Ah!” Goku brightened. He raised his finger into the air victoriously. “You like me! So it'sssss a Sssssaiyan trr-trrr-tradition to try and kill the w-w-one you like?”

 

“N-nnot rrreally. I th-think it's just me.”

 

Goku's eyes welled with tears. “It must have b-been so h-hard on you. I mean, y-you must have hrrr-hrrr-hurt sss-sss-so much every t-time you p-p-punched me.”

 

Vegeta laid his head on the table and started crying loudly.

 

Goku patted him on the shoulder. “D-don't worry, I w-w-won't tell anyone you cr-crrried. And iffff you ever need a sh-sh-shhhhh-shoulder to lean on, I am always hrr-hrr-here.”

 

Vegeta continued bawling his eyes out. “And y-” he hiccupped. “And yet it sss-sss-seems that you are an id-d-diot by nature…” he hiccupped. But the thought of Kakarott lending his shoulder was appealing. Bit by bit they might come to other, more important parts of Kakarott's body…

 

“Aww,” Goku shook his head then stopped doing it immediately as he got dizzy and nearly fell off his chair. “And we w-were getting al-along so f-ffff-ffff-fine. Let'ssss not s-sss-start the n-name calling again.” He scooped up a few more noodles from the pot, and chewed on them contemplatively.

 

XXXXX

 

Goku woke up panting, drenched in sweat. His eyes were nearly as wide as his gaping mouth. That had been some nightmare. Even his lower part had all but shriveled up.

 

“Hey,” a voice wafted, cutting through the darkness, “you alright there?”

 

Goku shook his head and regretted the action immediately as a horrible pang shot through his skull to announce a royal hangover. “Not really; I've never had such a creepy nightmare before.”

 

Vegeta thought for a moment. He remembered he had just had a weird dream too. But he could not remember it for the life of him. Probably it had been too scary to remember. “So what did you dream about?”

 

Goku scratched his head in the darkness. “Well, there's this church. And both of us are walking the red carpet towards the altar. And then I look at you and you're wearing a wedding dress. And then I look at myself and I'm wearing a wedding dress too. You know, one of those really puffy ones with lots and lots of laces and a long train? And I'm holding a bouquet of flowers. A huge one, all white roses. And then I woke up. I've never been so scared in my entire life.”

 

Vegeta had curled up in his bed. Shivering in fear, he grunted out, “For some reason I feel my unhealthy wish to kill you coming back…”

 

“Mhmm…” Goku drawled. “Well, you did ask me to tell you.”

 

Vegeta covered his ears. “You should have refused.”

 

Goku looked thoughtful. “But really, I've never had a dream like this before. I mean it's not like I'm a transvestite or anything.”

 

XXXXX

 

Baba glared at Goku through her crystal ball. “And what's wrong with playing out my dreams of youth in your head?! You'll even have a matching pair of high-heeled shoes if I want you to!”

 

Yamcha looked at her in horror.

 

TBC

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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