Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Watching ❯ The Date ( Chapter 4 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: pixelgoddess 
Goku keeps his promise and goes on his first date with Vegeta.
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Shounen / Romance / Drama | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 11.06.2009 | Updated On: 11.06.2009 | Pages: 4 | Words: 4.5K | Visits: 743 | Status: Work In Progress
Goku keeps his promise and goes on his first date with Vegeta.
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Shounen / Romance / Drama | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 11.06.2009 | Updated On: 11.06.2009 | Pages: 4 | Words: 4.5K | Visits: 743 | Status: Work In Progress
Watching
By Pixelgoddess
Vegeta and Yamcha are fooling around, but the one Vegeta really wants is Goku. Yamcha agrees to help the prince, but when three hearts are involved things get complicated.
Pairings – Mix, match and shuffle – if seme/uke is important to you, you’re in trouble. Vegeta, Yamcha, and Goku.
Warnings – Sex. Condoms. Lube. Fuck-buddies. NC-17.
For the purpose of this story, the kids aren’t around or even thought of – maybe they don’t exist, maybe they are off boinking each other, maybe they’ve left the planet…imagine whatever makes you happy, but they won’t be showing up.
Chapter 4 – The Date
Goku cleaned up quickly, wincing at Yamcha’s screaming. He didn’t think they’d done anything wrong, but his friend seemed really anxious. He’d always been a little jealous of Yamcha and all the people hanging around him.
If he was honest with himself, he had to admit he’d long had more interest in Yamcha than just friendship, although he’d only just acted on it. Yamcha smelled like sex much of the time, and sometimes it was a challenge not to fantasize about him. He wondered what he would have done if Yamcha had kissed him first, before pulling that stunt with Vegeta. Hell, he knew what he would have done – it would have been difficult, if not impossible, to resist having sex with Yamcha.
Between the beer and his distracting thoughts of sex with Vegeta, his prior restraint had gone by the wayside. That was the only reason he had any doubt; he should have controlled his urges since they had both been drinking. He knew what had happened and it didn’t bother him, but the alcohol had released their inhibitions, and he had a feeling Yamcha regretted it. He hoped he was wrong, because he had already fantasized about his friend again while Yamcha was still asleep.
He felt comfortable telling Yamcha almost everything. Well, everything except how he felt about Vegeta. What had happened with the prince ended up being a huge embarrassment. How could he have been such a terrible judge of character? And what if he had told Yamcha; what could his friend have done? As it was, Yamcha thought he was helping by bringing up all those old feelings, not realizing how much pain it caused Goku.
And now he was risking more pain by going on a date with Vegeta. A date. With Vegeta! It was insane. Years ago he would have leapt at the chance, but experience had made him wary. He wanted to trust Vegeta – hell, Yamcha trusted him – but he wasn’t sure he could anymore. Was Vegeta tricking Yamcha too? Using him in some plot to rip Goku’s heart out and make him feel like a fool? If Vegeta was deliberately trying to hurt Yamcha, Goku would kill him.
He sighed. He’d promised Yamcha he’d give Vegeta another chance, but if he was going to do that he’d have to stop thinking such negative thoughts about the prince.
It bothered him that he still remembered and instantly recognized Vegeta’s taste when Yamcha kissed him. He had wanted to think he was over him – he’d finally managed to stop saying his name when masturbating, but one kiss and he knew he was just kidding himself.
What the hell was he going to do? How did he get so screwed up anyway? He had once loved Vegeta, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to anymore. And he loved Yamcha too, as a friend and maybe more. Somehow he knew this was going to change everything and he wasn’t sure he was ready.
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Yamcha paused for a moment to admire how Goku’s shirt clung to his broad shoulders before paying attention to what he was wearing. Jeans. Short sleeved white button down shirt. Dirty sneakers. For a date with Vegeta. This wasn’t going to work.
“Where is he taking you?” he asked the mirror Goku was studying.
Goku shrugged. “Don’t know. Does it matter?”
Yamcha almost rolled his eyes, but just barely caught himself. He was sure his voice didn’t hide the eye roll though. “Matter? Of course it matters. This is Vegeta we’re talking about after all. You need to dress up more to go on a date with him.”
“What’s wrong with this?” Goku turned, raising his arms.
“Vegeta likes fancy restaurants, dude. He’s not going to take you to someplace like Fridays. Look, let me take a look in your closet. I’ll find you something to wear, okay?”
“I don’t—”
He went to the closet, ignoring Goku’s protests. “You promised, dude. You have to give it a real chance.”
He opened the door, nearly overcome by the overwhelming scent of Goku – no amount of cleaning could remove it completely. He bit his tongue to distract himself from the rush of arousal he felt and concentrated on finding his friend something more appropriate. It didn’t help that Goku had come closer, his heat a physical presence; just one time with Goku was all it took to destroy most of his willpower.
He flipped through the clothes quickly. Gis in a variety of colors; Goku had finally given up wearing exclusively orange. Jeans. T-shirts. A god-awful Hawaiian shirt. And the white shirt Goku was wearing. “This is all you’ve got?”
Goku shrugged. “I tried to tell you.”
“This is going to require some adjustment. I have to make a phone call.” He scooped up his cell and headed outside. He didn’t want Goku to hear this conversation.
“Vegeta. Where are you planning on taking Goku tonight?”
“Maison de l’alimentation salauds prétentieux.” It sounded to Yamcha like Vegeta was boasting; it was true it was notoriously difficult to get a reservation at Maison. Vegeta was a ‘name’ and he still had problems. If you knew anything about Maisonyou’d be impressed. Thing was, Goku didn’t know about fine dining and wouldn’t be awed by the name or the food.
Yamcha groaned. “Do you really think that’s a good idea? They’re assholes even to you. How do you think they are going to be to Goku? Is that how you want to start things off – by taking him someplace where they treat him like shit?”
“Damn it,” Vegeta growled.
Yamcha nodded to himself. The prince hadn’t thought of that. Hell, they never even had enough food to satisfy him, so they always ended up going out for a second meal. Goku would be completely out of place there.
“Do you have any idea how difficult it was to get that reservation?”
“You’re going to risk screwing up your first date with Goku over a fucking reservation?”
“No,” Vegeta said without hesitation.
“How about Casa di Abbondanti Sapore?” That was a nice cozy Italian restaurant, just a little dressy, but not stuffy. Plenty of great food. Friendly staff.
“Yessss,” Vegeta said slowly. He could almost see him nodding thoughtfully. “I have to make some phone calls.”
“Sure. By the way, if this goes to a second date Goku is going to need to go shopping.” Sure, he’d gotten Goku to agree to three, but if the first one was a disaster Yamcha knew he’d find it difficult to hold him to it.
“Why?”
“He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s going to be borrowing my clothes tonight. His wardrobe is almost entirely gis.”
Vegeta chuckled. “Why am I not surprised? Use my card.”
“Oh, no,” Yamcha shook his head. “Not a good idea. He might accept money from me, but not you – not yet. “
“So don’t tell him.”
“Vegeta,” he scolded, “It says Capsule Corp on it. Don’t you think he’d figure it out? Take it easy. Quit trying to impress him or buy him. Ease up.”
They both knew Goku didn’t have a lot of money. He ignored everyone’s advice and didn’t fight the divorce at all, letting Chichi have almost everything. Hell, he gave her shitloads more than she asked for – said she needed it more than he did and deserved it. He had some funds and took on odd jobs, but unless he’d been stashing money away in private there was no way he had enough to buy even a fraction of a decent new wardrobe. Yamcha had convinced him to move in before his custom baseball equipment business took off, and by the time it became successful he’d gotten so used to having Goku there it didn’t make sense to ask him to move out.
“Fine,” Vegeta grumbled.
“See you tonight. I’ll make sure Goku’s ready.”
“Thank you, Yamcha.”
“Not a problem,” he grinned. Vegeta had actually thanked him; he had to be desperate. “Stick with me. We’ll make this work.” As long as he kept his hands off Goku, it might. But being in the same house was going to become an almost unavoidable temptation.
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Yamcha stood back to admire his handiwork. His shirt was a little tight on Goku; deep red silk clinging to him like second skin. His chest seemed about to burst through the buttons, giving him a momentary pleasant image before he drew his attention back. His pants would never fit Goku – the size of those thighs was impressive – so he ended up choosing a pair of Goku’s own black jeans which were molded to his completely fuckable ass. Black Converse sneakers were another compromise – they were definitely going shopping tomorrow.
“How do I look?” Goku asked nervously. He’d probably never spent so much time getting ready in his life.
“Ready to be thrown on the floor and fucked.”
Goku smirked at him and he groaned. He didn’t mean to say that out loud, did he? “I meant you look great. Vegeta won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”
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Goku took a deep inhale, savoring the rich scents of garlic, oregano and tomato that nearly overpowered everything else. If the smell was anything to go by, Vegeta had brought him to a nice restaurant.
It had been kind of funny – Yamcha seemed even more nervous than he was when Vegeta arrived. He was pretty sure he’d heard him muttering, ‘Get out of the car, get out of the car you idiot.’ Apparently there was some doubt this would happen, because he seemed really relieved when Vegeta began walking to the front door. He wondered with a grin what Vegeta’s reaction would have been if he’d heard Yamcha call him an idiot.
When Vegeta had come through the door he studied Goku with an intensity that made him a little uncomfortable. He didn’t feel like he was being undressed; it was more like he was being memorized…remembered. Vegeta inhaled deeply and after a very long minute looked at Yamcha, smirking when Yamcha glanced away.
“Well, well Yamcha,” Vegeta had said. “I’m not surprised - I knew you could do it given a chance.” He grinned at Goku, “He’s been a positive influence; you look very good, Kakarott.”
Goku couldn’t help but blush at the compliment; he’d never imagined hearing something nice from Vegeta.
Yamcha was a pretty good judge of what to wear, he guessed, because Vegeta’s outfit was similar to his, although clearly much more expensive. If he remembered his shopping trips with Chichi, he thought it might be linen or something like that. The deep blue of his shirt suited him. He looked much more comfortable than Goku felt – the prince always seemed so elegant and sophisticated, unlike him. There was a flash of envy – he felt like a bumpkin in his borrowed clothes – but he quickly clamped it down. There was no telling how Vegeta would use a weakness like insecurity.
The drive to the restaurant had been pretty uneventful, although he’d realized with a lurch once that he was staring at Vegeta’s profile, studying him. And it didn’t help that the car was flooded with his scent; he kept losing track of what was being said. His only real original contribution was to comment on the sleek red convertible and ask why they didn’t just fly there. It turned out that Vegeta enjoyed the sound and feel of driving as well as the envious looks of car enthusiasts. He kind of understood, but he’d never been much of a driver even though Chichi had wanted him to.
He’d let Vegeta run the conversation, participating in small talk as if trying to become acquainted with a person he’d just met. And in a way they hadn’t met before if Yamcha was right about the way Vegeta had changed. He guessed he’d changed over the years as well, so Vegeta didn’t really know him either. He had wanted to ask some serious questions, but he wanted to see Vegeta’s face when he did. Maybe he wouldn’t get answers, but he just didn’t understand any of this and he wanted to.
Vegeta ordered for both of them – apparently they knew him here. Once the hubbub at the table died down he caught Vegeta’s eye – to his credit Vegeta didn’t flinch or waver under his gaze; he knew he would have.
“Go ahead Kakarott. I can see you have something on your mind.”
Damn it. How could he look so calm and unperturbed? “Why?” he blurted.
Vegeta raised an eyebrow and almost, not quite, grinned at him. “Would you care to elaborate? There are quite a few things that question could apply to. I want to be sure I answer the right one.”
Goku frowned. Was Vegeta laughing at him again? And if he was, so what? He’d only promised Yamcha three dates – he might only have a few chances to get the answers he wanted.
“Why are we here – on a date? Why would you even want to since you hate my guts? Why are you two messing with me like this? Why do you hate me so much?” His cheeks burned with embarrassment as he suddenly realized how childish he sounded; he was off to a crummy start.
Vegeta sighed, but to his credit he didn’t turn away. “I don’t hate you. I did – I’ll admit that. But I don’t anymore.”
He looked dubious. “Why?”
Vegeta’s lips twisted in a wry smile. “Is that going to be the question of the day?” He paused as some food was brought to their table. “There are a lot of reasons,” he continued. “Your looks are only a small part…although they don’t hurt.” Vegeta smirked at his blush – he just wasn’t used to people commenting on his appearance. “I don’t think you’d understand most of them – or wouldn’t believe them. “ Goku opened his mouth to protest, but Vegeta held up a hand and stopped him. “And it isn’t just because you are a Saiyan – although that doesn’t hurt either.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think the past few years, and I’ve finally realized how much I screwed up. I can finally admit I admire you and want you.”
“To fuck?” Goku said bitterly.
Vegeta grinned. “Kakarott, if all I was looking for was someone to fuck, there is a long line of people more than willing. If looks were all I was interested in, I could easily find someone who looked enough like you to satisfy any fantasies.”
“Like Yamcha.”
Vegeta’s expression darkened for a moment, before returning to his typical smirk. “Yes, Kakarott, as I’m sure he’s told you one of the reasons I started having sex with Yamcha a few years ago was because he reminded me of you. It wasn’t the only reason, but it didn’t hurt. He didn’t object and we ended up becoming very good friends.”
“I think he loves you.” Why did he say that? He didn’t think he was trying to start a fight – was he? He glanced at Vegeta to see his reaction; he didn’t seem surprised or even upset at his comment. In fact he seemed amazingly calm.
“Maybe. But our arrangement is none of your business.”
Ouch. But they were both adults – it really wasn’t his business even if he wasn’t sure Vegeta was treating Yamcha right. But Yamcha seemed to be happy with it… “Sorry,” he said quickly. He knew he could easily start an argument over his friend right now, but he was here because it was what Yamcha wanted. He promised to give Vegeta a chance so he would. “I didn’t mean…”
Vegeta waved it off. “Yes you did. But don’t worry about it. We’re friends and have discussed the situation; we understand each other. You don’t have to worry about Yamcha. In fact, this,” he gestured at their surroundings, “is his idea. It is not meant to be ‘messing with you’.”
Vegeta saw the look on his face and laughed. “You’re going to ask why again, aren’t you?”
He scowled back. Yamcha had told him, but he still didn’t understand. Why would his friend give up someone he obviously liked for him? “No,” he grumbled. He didn’t like feeling so completely off balance, especially around Vegeta – there was no telling how he’d use it.
He was saved from whatever remark Vegeta might have made by the delivery of the first of their dinners. They both got busy eating, giving him a chance to think of things he could say or ask without seeming like a total idiot.
Vegeta seemed so damned calm while he felt like he was whirring around in his head trying to catch up and keep up. What was it about Vegeta that always made him feel like he was outclassed? He knew it was ridiculous – Vegeta wasn’t even trying to make him feel stupid, he was doing it himself.
Hell, if he was honest he’d have to say Vegeta was being downright polite and considerate. More than once he suggested Goku try a new dish and showed him the right way to eat it without making him seem stupid. And he asked leading questions, actually paying attention and responding thoughtfully to Goku’s responses. Late in the meal he laughed out loud at one of Vegeta’s jokes and realized with a start this was the prince he’d always wanted to meet. Was it really possible he’d changed that much? He seemed…happy.
“You’re quiet Kakarott,” Vegeta said after a longish break in the conversation. “Is something wrong?”
Goku looked up with a start. He’d been thinking about how Vegeta seemed now, trying to reconcile it with the Vegeta he thought he knew. They just didn’t seem to match.
“No,” he said slowly, “I was just thinking how this isn’t what I expected.”
Vegeta smirked, “I am capable of showing a guest a good time. I am royalty after all.”
“The Prince of all Saiyans. I know,” Goku said wryly.
Vegeta sighed. “It doesn’t mean what it used to – there aren’t enough Saiyans to rule over, after all. Maybe I could get together a committee.”
Goku expelled a breathy gasp of laughter. He never expected to hear something like that from the prince.
“Yes Kakarott, I am well aware of the truth of my situation. But I cannot forget I’m royalty… and I’ve learned over the past few years the most important person I have rule over is myself. I think I’d forgotten that.”
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Goku leaned against the door and breathed a deep sigh of relief. His date hadn’t been bad if he was honest with himself, but he had been aware of the tension between himself and Vegeta. It was like they were dancing around each other, testing defenses and reactions. He frowned; if it had been a fight he had lost early on – he doubted the prince missed how hurt and distrustful he’d become. He let out a long breath and removed his jacket, hanging it in the closet; it was too late to go back and try to hide it and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. It wasn’t right for Vegeta to go through life oblivious to the pain he carelessly caused – although tonight he had gotten the sense that maybe Vegeta was aware and was trying to atone for it somehow.
He wandered to the living room, surprised to find Yamcha there, stretched out in an easy chair with a bowl of popcorn in his lap and a can of soda nearby.
“Hey dude, you’re home early,” he said, turning off the tv.
Goku looked at him in confusion. It was late as far as he was concerned – he rarely stayed out past eleven. “Did you stay up for me?”
Yamcha laughed. “It’s just after midnight – still early. Vegeta usually makes a night of it, you know? Did it go okay?”
Goku shrugged and dropped into the other chair. “I think so. We didn’t fight or anything, so I guess that’s okay.”
“Did you do anything besides dinner?”
“We walked to a coffee shop a few blocks away for dessert.” It had been odd walking beside Vegeta. He must have realized Goku was totally thrown by his behavior, and spent a lot of the time talking himself. He didn’t really say anything important, Goku realized, just the chatter you might have with a friend. They frequently stopped at shop windows, Vegeta apparently examining the displays while Goku studied him in the reflection. He still couldn’t believe this was Vegeta and it wasn’t some big trick on his part. The prince was cracking jokes, critiquing the displays with barbed humor. Goku had been amazed when Vegeta had actually laughed; not the bitter mocking laughter he was used to, but a real amused laugh. He didn’t think he’d ever heard that sound from him before.
“And?”
“Nothing. We just talked.”
“Are you going out with him again?”
“I did promise three times.” He wasn’t sure if he’d go out with Vegeta again if he hadn’t made that promise. It went okay – Vegeta was actually enjoyable to be around – but what if he let his guard down and this all turned out to be a trick? He wasn’t sure he could take that again.
Yamcha grinned. “Did he kiss you good night?”
“Yamcha…” he protested, blushing. He’d actually been afraid Vegeta would try to kiss him even while secretly hoping he would. It was confusing as hell and he just didn’t know how to react anymore.
“Well did he?”
“No. He just… he just touched my face.” He blushed again; thinking about it now the contact seemed terribly intimate and he swore he could still feel the fingertips against his skin.
Yamcha nodded. “He got that from Bulma, you know. He’s not very physically affectionate – no surprise there – and wouldn’t stand for her holding or hugging him in public. That was sort of her compromise.”
“Oh.” Bulma had done that to him a few times, but somehow it didn’t feel the same as the prince’s touch.
“He’s not going to hold your hand or cuddle after sex, you know. During sex,” Yamcha smirked, “he never stops touching. After… well, I figure he needs his space.”
Goku blushed, trying not to think of Vegeta and sex and failing miserably. He should have realized the prince wouldn’t be the clingy type. He wondered how Yamcha handled it since he seemed to be physical as much as Goku was. “Yeah, I guess so…”
“He stays, Goku. No wham-bam. He just doesn’t cuddle.”
“I don’t know if you’re trying to encourage me or discourage me…”
“Encourage. I just want you to have realistic expectations, that’s all. I mean…if he doesn’t hold you all the time, it’s not because he doesn’t like you, it’s because he doesn’t operate that way.”
“Okay.”
“So are you going to have sex with him?”
“Yamcha,” he scolded. His friend was not helping things. And the more he kept talking about it, the less likely Goku was going to make it through the night.
Yamcha smirked at him and Goku just knew he was blushing again.
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TBC
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Notes – According to my handy-dandy Google lookup, Maison de l’alimentation salauds prétentieux is House of the Pretentious Food Bastards (French), and Casa di Abbondanti Sapore is House of Abundant Flavor (Italian). If it’s wrong, blame Google. :P
By Pixelgoddess
Vegeta and Yamcha are fooling around, but the one Vegeta really wants is Goku. Yamcha agrees to help the prince, but when three hearts are involved things get complicated.
Pairings – Mix, match and shuffle – if seme/uke is important to you, you’re in trouble. Vegeta, Yamcha, and Goku.
Warnings – Sex. Condoms. Lube. Fuck-buddies. NC-17.
For the purpose of this story, the kids aren’t around or even thought of – maybe they don’t exist, maybe they are off boinking each other, maybe they’ve left the planet…imagine whatever makes you happy, but they won’t be showing up.
Chapter 4 – The Date
Goku cleaned up quickly, wincing at Yamcha’s screaming. He didn’t think they’d done anything wrong, but his friend seemed really anxious. He’d always been a little jealous of Yamcha and all the people hanging around him.
If he was honest with himself, he had to admit he’d long had more interest in Yamcha than just friendship, although he’d only just acted on it. Yamcha smelled like sex much of the time, and sometimes it was a challenge not to fantasize about him. He wondered what he would have done if Yamcha had kissed him first, before pulling that stunt with Vegeta. Hell, he knew what he would have done – it would have been difficult, if not impossible, to resist having sex with Yamcha.
Between the beer and his distracting thoughts of sex with Vegeta, his prior restraint had gone by the wayside. That was the only reason he had any doubt; he should have controlled his urges since they had both been drinking. He knew what had happened and it didn’t bother him, but the alcohol had released their inhibitions, and he had a feeling Yamcha regretted it. He hoped he was wrong, because he had already fantasized about his friend again while Yamcha was still asleep.
He felt comfortable telling Yamcha almost everything. Well, everything except how he felt about Vegeta. What had happened with the prince ended up being a huge embarrassment. How could he have been such a terrible judge of character? And what if he had told Yamcha; what could his friend have done? As it was, Yamcha thought he was helping by bringing up all those old feelings, not realizing how much pain it caused Goku.
And now he was risking more pain by going on a date with Vegeta. A date. With Vegeta! It was insane. Years ago he would have leapt at the chance, but experience had made him wary. He wanted to trust Vegeta – hell, Yamcha trusted him – but he wasn’t sure he could anymore. Was Vegeta tricking Yamcha too? Using him in some plot to rip Goku’s heart out and make him feel like a fool? If Vegeta was deliberately trying to hurt Yamcha, Goku would kill him.
He sighed. He’d promised Yamcha he’d give Vegeta another chance, but if he was going to do that he’d have to stop thinking such negative thoughts about the prince.
It bothered him that he still remembered and instantly recognized Vegeta’s taste when Yamcha kissed him. He had wanted to think he was over him – he’d finally managed to stop saying his name when masturbating, but one kiss and he knew he was just kidding himself.
What the hell was he going to do? How did he get so screwed up anyway? He had once loved Vegeta, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to anymore. And he loved Yamcha too, as a friend and maybe more. Somehow he knew this was going to change everything and he wasn’t sure he was ready.
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Yamcha paused for a moment to admire how Goku’s shirt clung to his broad shoulders before paying attention to what he was wearing. Jeans. Short sleeved white button down shirt. Dirty sneakers. For a date with Vegeta. This wasn’t going to work.
“Where is he taking you?” he asked the mirror Goku was studying.
Goku shrugged. “Don’t know. Does it matter?”
Yamcha almost rolled his eyes, but just barely caught himself. He was sure his voice didn’t hide the eye roll though. “Matter? Of course it matters. This is Vegeta we’re talking about after all. You need to dress up more to go on a date with him.”
“What’s wrong with this?” Goku turned, raising his arms.
“Vegeta likes fancy restaurants, dude. He’s not going to take you to someplace like Fridays. Look, let me take a look in your closet. I’ll find you something to wear, okay?”
“I don’t—”
He went to the closet, ignoring Goku’s protests. “You promised, dude. You have to give it a real chance.”
He opened the door, nearly overcome by the overwhelming scent of Goku – no amount of cleaning could remove it completely. He bit his tongue to distract himself from the rush of arousal he felt and concentrated on finding his friend something more appropriate. It didn’t help that Goku had come closer, his heat a physical presence; just one time with Goku was all it took to destroy most of his willpower.
He flipped through the clothes quickly. Gis in a variety of colors; Goku had finally given up wearing exclusively orange. Jeans. T-shirts. A god-awful Hawaiian shirt. And the white shirt Goku was wearing. “This is all you’ve got?”
Goku shrugged. “I tried to tell you.”
“This is going to require some adjustment. I have to make a phone call.” He scooped up his cell and headed outside. He didn’t want Goku to hear this conversation.
“Vegeta. Where are you planning on taking Goku tonight?”
“Maison de l’alimentation salauds prétentieux.” It sounded to Yamcha like Vegeta was boasting; it was true it was notoriously difficult to get a reservation at Maison. Vegeta was a ‘name’ and he still had problems. If you knew anything about Maisonyou’d be impressed. Thing was, Goku didn’t know about fine dining and wouldn’t be awed by the name or the food.
Yamcha groaned. “Do you really think that’s a good idea? They’re assholes even to you. How do you think they are going to be to Goku? Is that how you want to start things off – by taking him someplace where they treat him like shit?”
“Damn it,” Vegeta growled.
Yamcha nodded to himself. The prince hadn’t thought of that. Hell, they never even had enough food to satisfy him, so they always ended up going out for a second meal. Goku would be completely out of place there.
“Do you have any idea how difficult it was to get that reservation?”
“You’re going to risk screwing up your first date with Goku over a fucking reservation?”
“No,” Vegeta said without hesitation.
“How about Casa di Abbondanti Sapore?” That was a nice cozy Italian restaurant, just a little dressy, but not stuffy. Plenty of great food. Friendly staff.
“Yessss,” Vegeta said slowly. He could almost see him nodding thoughtfully. “I have to make some phone calls.”
“Sure. By the way, if this goes to a second date Goku is going to need to go shopping.” Sure, he’d gotten Goku to agree to three, but if the first one was a disaster Yamcha knew he’d find it difficult to hold him to it.
“Why?”
“He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s going to be borrowing my clothes tonight. His wardrobe is almost entirely gis.”
Vegeta chuckled. “Why am I not surprised? Use my card.”
“Oh, no,” Yamcha shook his head. “Not a good idea. He might accept money from me, but not you – not yet. “
“So don’t tell him.”
“Vegeta,” he scolded, “It says Capsule Corp on it. Don’t you think he’d figure it out? Take it easy. Quit trying to impress him or buy him. Ease up.”
They both knew Goku didn’t have a lot of money. He ignored everyone’s advice and didn’t fight the divorce at all, letting Chichi have almost everything. Hell, he gave her shitloads more than she asked for – said she needed it more than he did and deserved it. He had some funds and took on odd jobs, but unless he’d been stashing money away in private there was no way he had enough to buy even a fraction of a decent new wardrobe. Yamcha had convinced him to move in before his custom baseball equipment business took off, and by the time it became successful he’d gotten so used to having Goku there it didn’t make sense to ask him to move out.
“Fine,” Vegeta grumbled.
“See you tonight. I’ll make sure Goku’s ready.”
“Thank you, Yamcha.”
“Not a problem,” he grinned. Vegeta had actually thanked him; he had to be desperate. “Stick with me. We’ll make this work.” As long as he kept his hands off Goku, it might. But being in the same house was going to become an almost unavoidable temptation.
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Yamcha stood back to admire his handiwork. His shirt was a little tight on Goku; deep red silk clinging to him like second skin. His chest seemed about to burst through the buttons, giving him a momentary pleasant image before he drew his attention back. His pants would never fit Goku – the size of those thighs was impressive – so he ended up choosing a pair of Goku’s own black jeans which were molded to his completely fuckable ass. Black Converse sneakers were another compromise – they were definitely going shopping tomorrow.
“How do I look?” Goku asked nervously. He’d probably never spent so much time getting ready in his life.
“Ready to be thrown on the floor and fucked.”
Goku smirked at him and he groaned. He didn’t mean to say that out loud, did he? “I meant you look great. Vegeta won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”
---------------------------
Goku took a deep inhale, savoring the rich scents of garlic, oregano and tomato that nearly overpowered everything else. If the smell was anything to go by, Vegeta had brought him to a nice restaurant.
It had been kind of funny – Yamcha seemed even more nervous than he was when Vegeta arrived. He was pretty sure he’d heard him muttering, ‘Get out of the car, get out of the car you idiot.’ Apparently there was some doubt this would happen, because he seemed really relieved when Vegeta began walking to the front door. He wondered with a grin what Vegeta’s reaction would have been if he’d heard Yamcha call him an idiot.
When Vegeta had come through the door he studied Goku with an intensity that made him a little uncomfortable. He didn’t feel like he was being undressed; it was more like he was being memorized…remembered. Vegeta inhaled deeply and after a very long minute looked at Yamcha, smirking when Yamcha glanced away.
“Well, well Yamcha,” Vegeta had said. “I’m not surprised - I knew you could do it given a chance.” He grinned at Goku, “He’s been a positive influence; you look very good, Kakarott.”
Goku couldn’t help but blush at the compliment; he’d never imagined hearing something nice from Vegeta.
Yamcha was a pretty good judge of what to wear, he guessed, because Vegeta’s outfit was similar to his, although clearly much more expensive. If he remembered his shopping trips with Chichi, he thought it might be linen or something like that. The deep blue of his shirt suited him. He looked much more comfortable than Goku felt – the prince always seemed so elegant and sophisticated, unlike him. There was a flash of envy – he felt like a bumpkin in his borrowed clothes – but he quickly clamped it down. There was no telling how Vegeta would use a weakness like insecurity.
The drive to the restaurant had been pretty uneventful, although he’d realized with a lurch once that he was staring at Vegeta’s profile, studying him. And it didn’t help that the car was flooded with his scent; he kept losing track of what was being said. His only real original contribution was to comment on the sleek red convertible and ask why they didn’t just fly there. It turned out that Vegeta enjoyed the sound and feel of driving as well as the envious looks of car enthusiasts. He kind of understood, but he’d never been much of a driver even though Chichi had wanted him to.
He’d let Vegeta run the conversation, participating in small talk as if trying to become acquainted with a person he’d just met. And in a way they hadn’t met before if Yamcha was right about the way Vegeta had changed. He guessed he’d changed over the years as well, so Vegeta didn’t really know him either. He had wanted to ask some serious questions, but he wanted to see Vegeta’s face when he did. Maybe he wouldn’t get answers, but he just didn’t understand any of this and he wanted to.
Vegeta ordered for both of them – apparently they knew him here. Once the hubbub at the table died down he caught Vegeta’s eye – to his credit Vegeta didn’t flinch or waver under his gaze; he knew he would have.
“Go ahead Kakarott. I can see you have something on your mind.”
Damn it. How could he look so calm and unperturbed? “Why?” he blurted.
Vegeta raised an eyebrow and almost, not quite, grinned at him. “Would you care to elaborate? There are quite a few things that question could apply to. I want to be sure I answer the right one.”
Goku frowned. Was Vegeta laughing at him again? And if he was, so what? He’d only promised Yamcha three dates – he might only have a few chances to get the answers he wanted.
“Why are we here – on a date? Why would you even want to since you hate my guts? Why are you two messing with me like this? Why do you hate me so much?” His cheeks burned with embarrassment as he suddenly realized how childish he sounded; he was off to a crummy start.
Vegeta sighed, but to his credit he didn’t turn away. “I don’t hate you. I did – I’ll admit that. But I don’t anymore.”
He looked dubious. “Why?”
Vegeta’s lips twisted in a wry smile. “Is that going to be the question of the day?” He paused as some food was brought to their table. “There are a lot of reasons,” he continued. “Your looks are only a small part…although they don’t hurt.” Vegeta smirked at his blush – he just wasn’t used to people commenting on his appearance. “I don’t think you’d understand most of them – or wouldn’t believe them. “ Goku opened his mouth to protest, but Vegeta held up a hand and stopped him. “And it isn’t just because you are a Saiyan – although that doesn’t hurt either.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think the past few years, and I’ve finally realized how much I screwed up. I can finally admit I admire you and want you.”
“To fuck?” Goku said bitterly.
Vegeta grinned. “Kakarott, if all I was looking for was someone to fuck, there is a long line of people more than willing. If looks were all I was interested in, I could easily find someone who looked enough like you to satisfy any fantasies.”
“Like Yamcha.”
Vegeta’s expression darkened for a moment, before returning to his typical smirk. “Yes, Kakarott, as I’m sure he’s told you one of the reasons I started having sex with Yamcha a few years ago was because he reminded me of you. It wasn’t the only reason, but it didn’t hurt. He didn’t object and we ended up becoming very good friends.”
“I think he loves you.” Why did he say that? He didn’t think he was trying to start a fight – was he? He glanced at Vegeta to see his reaction; he didn’t seem surprised or even upset at his comment. In fact he seemed amazingly calm.
“Maybe. But our arrangement is none of your business.”
Ouch. But they were both adults – it really wasn’t his business even if he wasn’t sure Vegeta was treating Yamcha right. But Yamcha seemed to be happy with it… “Sorry,” he said quickly. He knew he could easily start an argument over his friend right now, but he was here because it was what Yamcha wanted. He promised to give Vegeta a chance so he would. “I didn’t mean…”
Vegeta waved it off. “Yes you did. But don’t worry about it. We’re friends and have discussed the situation; we understand each other. You don’t have to worry about Yamcha. In fact, this,” he gestured at their surroundings, “is his idea. It is not meant to be ‘messing with you’.”
Vegeta saw the look on his face and laughed. “You’re going to ask why again, aren’t you?”
He scowled back. Yamcha had told him, but he still didn’t understand. Why would his friend give up someone he obviously liked for him? “No,” he grumbled. He didn’t like feeling so completely off balance, especially around Vegeta – there was no telling how he’d use it.
He was saved from whatever remark Vegeta might have made by the delivery of the first of their dinners. They both got busy eating, giving him a chance to think of things he could say or ask without seeming like a total idiot.
Vegeta seemed so damned calm while he felt like he was whirring around in his head trying to catch up and keep up. What was it about Vegeta that always made him feel like he was outclassed? He knew it was ridiculous – Vegeta wasn’t even trying to make him feel stupid, he was doing it himself.
Hell, if he was honest he’d have to say Vegeta was being downright polite and considerate. More than once he suggested Goku try a new dish and showed him the right way to eat it without making him seem stupid. And he asked leading questions, actually paying attention and responding thoughtfully to Goku’s responses. Late in the meal he laughed out loud at one of Vegeta’s jokes and realized with a start this was the prince he’d always wanted to meet. Was it really possible he’d changed that much? He seemed…happy.
“You’re quiet Kakarott,” Vegeta said after a longish break in the conversation. “Is something wrong?”
Goku looked up with a start. He’d been thinking about how Vegeta seemed now, trying to reconcile it with the Vegeta he thought he knew. They just didn’t seem to match.
“No,” he said slowly, “I was just thinking how this isn’t what I expected.”
Vegeta smirked, “I am capable of showing a guest a good time. I am royalty after all.”
“The Prince of all Saiyans. I know,” Goku said wryly.
Vegeta sighed. “It doesn’t mean what it used to – there aren’t enough Saiyans to rule over, after all. Maybe I could get together a committee.”
Goku expelled a breathy gasp of laughter. He never expected to hear something like that from the prince.
“Yes Kakarott, I am well aware of the truth of my situation. But I cannot forget I’m royalty… and I’ve learned over the past few years the most important person I have rule over is myself. I think I’d forgotten that.”
-----------------------
Goku leaned against the door and breathed a deep sigh of relief. His date hadn’t been bad if he was honest with himself, but he had been aware of the tension between himself and Vegeta. It was like they were dancing around each other, testing defenses and reactions. He frowned; if it had been a fight he had lost early on – he doubted the prince missed how hurt and distrustful he’d become. He let out a long breath and removed his jacket, hanging it in the closet; it was too late to go back and try to hide it and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. It wasn’t right for Vegeta to go through life oblivious to the pain he carelessly caused – although tonight he had gotten the sense that maybe Vegeta was aware and was trying to atone for it somehow.
He wandered to the living room, surprised to find Yamcha there, stretched out in an easy chair with a bowl of popcorn in his lap and a can of soda nearby.
“Hey dude, you’re home early,” he said, turning off the tv.
Goku looked at him in confusion. It was late as far as he was concerned – he rarely stayed out past eleven. “Did you stay up for me?”
Yamcha laughed. “It’s just after midnight – still early. Vegeta usually makes a night of it, you know? Did it go okay?”
Goku shrugged and dropped into the other chair. “I think so. We didn’t fight or anything, so I guess that’s okay.”
“Did you do anything besides dinner?”
“We walked to a coffee shop a few blocks away for dessert.” It had been odd walking beside Vegeta. He must have realized Goku was totally thrown by his behavior, and spent a lot of the time talking himself. He didn’t really say anything important, Goku realized, just the chatter you might have with a friend. They frequently stopped at shop windows, Vegeta apparently examining the displays while Goku studied him in the reflection. He still couldn’t believe this was Vegeta and it wasn’t some big trick on his part. The prince was cracking jokes, critiquing the displays with barbed humor. Goku had been amazed when Vegeta had actually laughed; not the bitter mocking laughter he was used to, but a real amused laugh. He didn’t think he’d ever heard that sound from him before.
“And?”
“Nothing. We just talked.”
“Are you going out with him again?”
“I did promise three times.” He wasn’t sure if he’d go out with Vegeta again if he hadn’t made that promise. It went okay – Vegeta was actually enjoyable to be around – but what if he let his guard down and this all turned out to be a trick? He wasn’t sure he could take that again.
Yamcha grinned. “Did he kiss you good night?”
“Yamcha…” he protested, blushing. He’d actually been afraid Vegeta would try to kiss him even while secretly hoping he would. It was confusing as hell and he just didn’t know how to react anymore.
“Well did he?”
“No. He just… he just touched my face.” He blushed again; thinking about it now the contact seemed terribly intimate and he swore he could still feel the fingertips against his skin.
Yamcha nodded. “He got that from Bulma, you know. He’s not very physically affectionate – no surprise there – and wouldn’t stand for her holding or hugging him in public. That was sort of her compromise.”
“Oh.” Bulma had done that to him a few times, but somehow it didn’t feel the same as the prince’s touch.
“He’s not going to hold your hand or cuddle after sex, you know. During sex,” Yamcha smirked, “he never stops touching. After… well, I figure he needs his space.”
Goku blushed, trying not to think of Vegeta and sex and failing miserably. He should have realized the prince wouldn’t be the clingy type. He wondered how Yamcha handled it since he seemed to be physical as much as Goku was. “Yeah, I guess so…”
“He stays, Goku. No wham-bam. He just doesn’t cuddle.”
“I don’t know if you’re trying to encourage me or discourage me…”
“Encourage. I just want you to have realistic expectations, that’s all. I mean…if he doesn’t hold you all the time, it’s not because he doesn’t like you, it’s because he doesn’t operate that way.”
“Okay.”
“So are you going to have sex with him?”
“Yamcha,” he scolded. His friend was not helping things. And the more he kept talking about it, the less likely Goku was going to make it through the night.
Yamcha smirked at him and Goku just knew he was blushing again.
__________
TBC
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Notes – According to my handy-dandy Google lookup, Maison de l’alimentation salauds prétentieux is House of the Pretentious Food Bastards (French), and Casa di Abbondanti Sapore is House of Abundant Flavor (Italian). If it’s wrong, blame Google. :P