Summary: (Vegeta/Goten, 3 years post-DBZ) Our heroes have lived together for 3 years now. Vegeta finishes by agreeing to Goten’s wish for a night out, which lands them more ‘fun’ than they bargained for.
Rating/warnings: M, very NSFW with Yaoi and Gay content. Also very silly.
Published with permission from saiyansecret who is an awesome dbz yaoi fan fic writer to check out!
Read Chapter 1
“Stand still!” Goten admonished Vegeta for about the fifth time, measuring tape in hand, “You’d rather I take your measurements here than the folks at Armani, right?”
“Someone should tell them to starch their shirts before putting them on.” He folded his arms stubbornly. “And yes, I hate shopping.”
Not caring for it himself, Goten tilted his head with a humorless upside-down smirk. “Raise your arms.”
Sighing impatiently, Vegeta complied, knowing the faster they got done, the better. Goten carefully noted each measurement, satisfied with the finished results. “You see, a half centimenter more than last time. Told ya you gained in muscle.”
“How exactly are we to dress for this thing, anyway?” Vegeta wanted to know.
“Just semi-formal,” Goten replied, “Some of them get eccentric, but to each their crowd.”
Vegeta was admiring the classy outfit Goten wore, cupping the back of his neck. “You look good,” he told him in a promising tone, “Hurry back.”
“I will.” Goten gave him a sexy smile and left.
Vegeta occupied his time training, nonetheless dissatisfied with what he deemed his lack of progress. Since the beginning of their union, he’d promised Goten not to overdo it anymore. However, lately they’d made a compromise; he could put in more hours and effort, provided that it didn’t result in him needing a senzu bean or a hospital.
Goten was oblivious to his luck, Vegeta had informed him before. He’d often shirked his own training, seeming to lazily take for granted what Vegeta had nearly killed himself to achieve. He’d hit an unseen nerve, and Goten had retorted that he was not in his skin and was as ignorant of his own demons as everyone else. It had led to a furious argument that came to blows; ironically, after they’d bruised each other up and physically and emotionally exhausted themselves, it had brought them together, showing them each the epiphany of a curious mirror of himself in the other. That had been their first night they’d spent together, which consisted only of a needed embrace that lasted through the night.
The term ‘brought together’ was quite an understatement for them, Vegeta reflected now. Swiftly he dodged the fire of a robot from one side, and again from the other.
“You won’t lose me,” Goten had promised him.
“I won’t leave you,” Vegeta had promised in turn.
The only words they’d spoken brought to light the protectiveness he felt for the demi Saiyan, though why the reminder of that night came back to him so vividly now, he couldn’t say.
Distracted by the latter thought, fire from one of the robots caught Vegeta off guard and slammed him to the floor. He would normally have cursed a blue streak, but this time only sat leaned against the wall in thought.
Having returned, Goten set their purchases down and went to find Vegeta. Common sense told him he knew better than to set foot in the training room wearing nice clothes, but Vegeta liked them, and the way he’d looked at him…
Seeing him thus, Goten smiled. “Hey. What’s got you?”
Vegeta looked up at him with a lost but smoldering gaze. “You. Now.” Aggressively he yanked Goten down and squeezed him close with a strangely needy kiss that Goten melted into. He hadn’t even broken a sweat, he noted. Vegeta’s hands firmly caressed his back, finding his black silk shirt almost as soft as his hair, where one hand was busy playing with handfuls.
“Whatcha want?” Goten asked teasingly, given a fairly good idea when the full-blooded Saiyan’s legs wrapped tightly around him.
“You know what I want.” Vegeta’s voice had become a sultry whisper, then made an approving sound when Goten pinned his wrists to the wall, biting hard at the side of his neck. “You got under my skin so insideously,” his throaty whisper told him, “I couldn’t tell you when I knew how bad I wanted you.”
“I could,” Goten replied with a mischievous smirk, “My first wet dream was about you. Not that it was the last.”
Vegeta’s eyes refocused and he stared at him, looking pained. “Goten, I… think that’s what you guys would call ‘TMI’.“
Goten’s smirk widened into a grin. “Enough to stop you now?”
“No.” His hands broken free, now Vegeta used their own sign language in which they were now fluent. The demi Saiyan really had rendered him lazy, he thought dimly, though was not in the mood to actually care at the moment.
It was rare that his mate accorded him this privilege, Goten reflected with a thrill, which he always seized and went for broke. Luckily he’d bought a new silk shirt, he thought with a mental shrug.
Another one bites the dust.
Saturday evening found the two Saiyans dressed and ready to leave. Goten paused to straighten Vegeta’s collar, then admired their reflections. Both were clothed in coordinated silk shirts in different shades of dark blue, and black silk pants that hid black silk underwear. Though generally approving, Vegeta complained of the lower garments fitting too tightly.
“You’ll break them in fast enough,” Goten assured with a cheerful smirk.
Vegeta cuffed his head, making him snicker. “Smartass.”
An hour later, they waited in a short line, watching the view of a posh, red-carpeted entryway. As far as they could see, Club 73 was divided into a strobe-lit dance floor to the left, and a more quiet seated area to the right. The whole place was decorated in black lacquer, dimly lit by elegant wall lamps, and candles at the tables and benches.
Vegeta had his eye on the quiet area, unconsciously standing closer to Goten, and was visibly uncomfortable. Goten enlaced him from behind with a quick kiss, taking his hand reassuringly. The place was known to be friendly to all types of gender couples, but Vegeta disliked public displays of affection. Goten silently agreed that it was best to get a few drinks in him first.
Vegeta’s attention was caught when a young couple ahead of them casually presented the backs of their hands for their reglementary chip injections. The sight turned Vegeta’s face pale. “What the hell?!” he muttered to Goten, “Is that some kind of GPS?”
“No, silly,” Goten chided, having forgotten to explain that, “Under a special light, it shows up the club’s logo to prove you’re a member. Stamps wear off too easy.”
But Vegeta was shaking his head. “No way. Nobody’s sticking any implant in me!” He turned to leave, and Goten firmly held him in place.
“Vegeta, would I bring you someplace bad? If it really bothers you, I can pop it out without shedding a drop of your blood.” Goten’s confident look turned reproachful and sad, his wide eyes locking pleadingly with Vegeta’s.
“Gods, quit giving me that look,” Vegeta groaned, his shoulders slumped. “Fine, but the minute we get home, I want it out.”
“Two seconds with a Swiss Army knife,” Goten promised.
At their turn, they were greeted by an attractive, mahogany-skinned woman in a tailored Chanel suit. “Good evening, gentlemen,” she bade them with a polite smile, accepting their invitations, “I see you prefer non-smoking,” she read, “Very well. When your chips are done, follow me, please.” She indicated a clean-cut man in a tuxedo who put on a sterile pair of latex gloves and smiled expectantly.
Vegeta eyed the man with suspicion, so Goten stepped up to present his requested left hand. The man swiped his skin with an alcohol compress, then quickly injected his chip.
“I barely felt it,” Goten assured Vegeta with a smile, which the personnel returned them.
“No worries, Sir,” the woman assured Vegeta, “Some guests like to leave and return, and we highly recommend the line of five-star hotel-restaurants across the street. Of course, we can remove it for you before you leave, if you wish.”
Especially reluctant to face Goten’s look, Vegeta stepped up for his own chip. The woman beamed and motionned for them to follow her. She led them to a comfortable, black suede booth and handed them drink menus, and Goten slid in to sit next to Vegeta.
“Do enjoy your visit,” the woman bade them cheerfully, then left them. They studied the menus, and when a waiter hurried over, each ordered a White Russian. Two drinks later, they were talking casually, and Goten noticed with a secret smile that Vegeta was beginning to relax.
They were approached by a young man and woman dressed in black leather, both with short, gel-spiked hair and various facial piercings. The Saiyans looked up curiously at the pair, who were obviously not bar waiters.
“Club 420,” the young man said in a low voice in guise of introduction, “If you want the real speciality, follow us.” The woman winked at them with a smirk, then stuck her tongue out to reveal a diamond tongue piercing. Goten and Vegeta exchanged a glance, wondering what that was supposed to mean. The leather-clad pair waited expectantly.
“Go ahead,” Vegeta told Goten, “I’m comfortable.” Goten mentally shrugged and followed them curiously.
“Club 420?” he asked, intrigued. The young pair exchanged knowing grins.
“We know you’re newbies,” the guy said confidently, “Normally you wouldn’t be allowed, but since you’re friends with Sebastian, that changes everything.”
“Yeah,” the girl agreed, “Friends of Sebby have carte blanche in 420. But like he told you, you know nada about the underground, got it?”
“Sure,” Goten replied casually, though his mind raced. Underground? What exactly had he got them into? Drug smuggling? Weapons? Slave trade? Sebastian wasn’t exactly a friend, either. They’d lied to the police that he’d refused to serve them when their fake ID’s were confiscated, thus saving his liquor license. He now had a partnership with Club 73, he’d told them, and had granted them VIP invitations for when they were truly legal.
The 420 pair led them to a different bar with a diamond-shaped logo, then to two girls, who also appeared to be about Goten’s age. “The new guys we told you about,” the young man told them simply, then they left Goten with them. Both had long hair, one bright magenta-red, the other light pink. Both extended their hands in welcome. “Hey. I’m Jordan,” the red-haired one bade.
“Ashley,” the pink-haired one introduced in turn.
“Hi. I’m Goten.” He shook their hands courteously, and both smiled. Each wore lipstick that matched her hair, with a lip ring on the right side. They moved closer, and were not subtle about devouring him with their eyes.
“Isn’t he cute,” the pink-haired one commented, earning a sharp glance from the other.
“Welcome to Club 420,” Jordan began, snapping her fingers at the personnel behind the bar, “First of all, stop drinking that common junk and try our speciality. On the house tonight.” A multi-colored drink in layers of purple, blue, yellow, and red on top appeared on the counter, which she picked up and handed to Goten.
He accepted the strange hybrid drink, but hesitated.
“It’s what it looks like,” Ashley told him craftily with a wink, “Just with our secret ingredient.”
Goten raised an eyebrow. “You mean a drug.”
“It’s all natural,” Jordan retorted, looking vexed, “A vial of red ginseng with royal jelly, damiana, and a rare tropical plant called Sedilusta.”
“Natural like shrooms and poppies?” Goten asked dryly, then watched as two more drinks were set on the bar, the secret recipe added and stirred in front of him, then the girls each took one and took a large swallow, watching him amusedly. He watched as they emptied their glasses, tapping the bar for another. By this time, both young women were giggling drunkenly, their arms around each other’s waists, exchanging a kiss that bordered on foreplay.
No harm, Goten thought, and drank a little of it. His eyes widened at the most delicious, fruity taste with a hint of coconut-flavored rhum and ginseng. Greedily he emptied half the glass, smiling at the pretty lights that came from more than the strobe light.
“Cool,” he mumbled with a lopsided grin, making the young women beam.
“There’s more where that came from, sweetie,” Ashley told him in a low, seductive voice, “Wanna dance? There’s room for three, if you catch my drift.” Her hand touched his waist, sneakily sliding down for a try at feeling up his well-sculpted ass.
Swiftly Goten moved aside. “Excuse me, but I’m with someone.” He glanced pointedly at Vegeta, who shot a warning glare at the young women.
“Aw, he’s adorable!” Ashley exclaimed delightedly.
“Will you calm your hormones?” Jordan hissed, tugging at the other woman’s crystal-studded collar. The former was clearly the dominant of the two.
“Your friend looks a bit uptight,” Jordan commented to Goten, “We could help with a little company.”
“He… doesn’t like company,” Goten informed them diplomatically.
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Ashley pouted, tapping on the bar for more drinks, “You’re both so gorgeous.”
“For the last time, calm yourself,” Jordan told her girlfriend with exasperation, then handed Goten two more drinks. “This will help your boyfriend, I’m sure you can tell yourself. Unlimited refills.”
“I’m sure it will,” Goten grinned, “Thanks!” Happily he brought the drinks back to their table, still smiling as he sat down. “Ohmygod Vegeta, drink this now. It is amazing!”
“Where did those come from?” Vegeta asked suspiciously. They hadn’t been on the menu or served at any table, not counting how loopy Goten appeared now.
“From the other bar,” Goten replied, “The two lesbians ordered them for us.”
“They’re bi,” Vegeta corrected flatly, “A lesbian would not have tried to grab your ass.”
“They’re just drunk,” Goten waved off, smiling. “You’re jealous.”
“Of those freaks?” Vegeta scoffed, glaring at his smug look, “I am not.”
“Whatever, it’s cute.” Flattered, Goten sidled up to him to put an unseen arm around his waist, whispering seductively, “Forget them, just drink. Then tell me if you feel the same thing.”
Seeing Goten’s flushed cheeks, Vegeta took a small drink, then a long one. Halfway through, he smiled slowly. Pretty lights, indeed. He shut his eyes to enjoy the gentle buzz, then opened them wide when the heat flashed through him. His cheeks blushed attractively, he glanced sidelong at Goten and slid his arm around his waist in turn.
Not yet, Goten told himself firmly, make him want it. Catching sight of a 420 member, he signaled for more drinks.
In a hushed tone, he told Vegeta what he’d heard about the mysterious Club 420, asking what he thought of it.
Vegeta fidgeted with his glass. “The guy who owed you a favor said nothing about it?”
Goten shook his head. “No. I wonder what they’re really up to.”
“It sounds like a front,” Vegeta guessed, “Probably money laundering for drugs.” His voice did not suggest that he really cared, and his dialated eyes were fixed on the multicolored swirls made in his drink.
Goten would not have suggested the place had he known it hid something fishy, but as it didn’t concern them, he figured they may as well enjoy themselves.
Indeed, a few drinks later, the two of them were alternating between laughing crazily at everything and shamelessly making out. Luckily for them, their booth was in a discrete corner, as the fullblooded Saiyan would be horrified if his mind were clear. Which was not the case, Goten observed triumphantly, one hand sliding up the inside of his thigh. His fingers admiringly traced the hard curves of his throbbing manhood, muffling his pleasured exclamations with a bruising kiss. Vegeta’s hand slid between Goten’s legs to playfully retaliate, their kiss deepening as much passionately as to muffle their sounds.
Lustily Goten kneaded his most receptive nerve along its whole length, his tongue aggressively thrusting into his warm mouth. His unfocused eyes blurring, Vegeta grasped his arms in an iron grip, by his intention seeming to forget where they were.
Shivering with a thrill, Goten seductively whispered, “Would you like if I hid under the table…”
Vegeta’s eyes widened at his lurid description and he nodded vehemently, certain that he would surely burst otherwise. Smiling, Goten slowly knelt on one knee, when they both sensed presences and froze.
They looked up sharply to see Ashley and Jordan standing near their table, watching in amused fascination. “Oh, don’t mind us,” Ashley said quickly, getting a sharp elbow from her companion.
“We just stopped to say hi,” Jordan attempted at smoothing over it, but Goten and Vegeta sullenly took their places, the mood spoiled.
“Wow,” Ashley commented obliviously, “We’ve never seen anyone drink near that many. Even a soldier would long since be on the floor. Unconscient,” she added quickly. It was clear that she put her foot in her mouth on a regular basis.
“Actually, we came to apologize,” Jordan clarified. She and her girlfriend took the seat across from the Saiyans, and before they could indignantly complain, she snapped her fingers at a passing waiter, signaling four drinks. The waiter hurried off, placing their order at first priority.
“Uhm, yeah, I’m totally sorry,” Ashley said to Vegeta with a glance at Goten, “I didn’t know he’s your boyfriend.”
“Actually, he’s my mate,” Vegeta informed her, acknowledging the apology, but remained stony.
“Your… oh, that’s worse,” Ashley lamented, “We get kinda crazy sometimes, but we don’t step on anyone’s territory. Especially not if you’re married.”
The Saiyans didn’t bother correcting her on a small cultural difference, but observed them quietly. They appeared to be thinking.
“We’d be glad to offer you three more visit credits,” Jordan proposed, “Any times you wish, again with drinks on the house and free accommodations at the hotel-restaurant of your choice.”
“Cool for the restaurant,” Goten replied, “But we don’t live too far.”
“Most of our guests don’t,” Ashley told him, examining her pale glitter manicure, “It’s a courtesy, since many like to rest or freshen up. Also appreciated by our more hot-blooded–” At the sharp look from the other three, she sighed. “There are also some who go to take their dose. You don’t look like you’re into that.” They shook their heads.
Vegeta had been scrutinizing them. “You seem to have a lot of influence here,” he observed.
“Indeed.” Jordan smiled politely, but did not seem inclined to specify. Anticipating their question, she added, “Though we don’t distribute the secret ingredient. It’s perfectly harmless, but it’s rare, and we doubt it would pass marketing inspection.“
Goten and Vegeta exchanged expressionless glances, wondering if they would spill the beans if they got them drunk enough. Goku had always given his sons ginseng for training. Besides a little energy, he’d noticed nothing else.
When the drinks arrived, the atmosphere lightened, considerably more as they drank.
“So, are you in college?” Ashley asked them, “We go to SCU.”
Back on his magic drink buzz, Vegeta found the question hilarious.
“No, it’s not our thing,” Goten replied cheerfully.
The rest of their conversation was lighthearted, an alternation of small talk and peals of hysterical laughter.
“It’s good to see you lightened up,” Jordan said to Vegeta, “You’re actually charming.”
“I think so, too.” Defiantly Goten’s arms draped possessively around Vegeta, who ruffled his hair amusedly.
“You oughta see her,” Jordan said of Ashley, “When she laughs too hard, she can’t make any more noise, and bends over clapping like a retarded seal.“
“I do not!” Ashley punched Jordan’s arm, still in her giggling fit.
“Ash does lots of amusing things.” Jordan commented, looping her finger in her collar loop and yanked her foreward. “Don’t you?” The latter’s glazed expression looked a bit like Goten’s when Vegeta did similar things to him.
“Cool,” the demi Saiyan muttered, “You wear one in public?”
“Yep.” Ashley looked up. “You…? I knew it.” She declared with a coy smile.
Such a topic in inebriated states was not a good idea, as the evening was too early to be cut short. “You guys wanna dance with us?” Jordan asked the males, “Asking as friends, like a double date.”
“Sure,” Goten replied, having looked foreward to it. He stood and tugged at Vegeta’s elbow.
“Huh?” Again fascinated by the swirl of colors in his glass, Vegeta looked up.
“Come on.” Smiling, Goten locked his arm and led him to the dance floor under the scintillating strobe light, where all else was plunged in darkness.
Goten was doubtlessly the only Z-warrior who knew what an excellent dancer Vegeta was. From the admiring looks of the other dancers, they seemed to agree. In truth, Vegeta lost himself in the beat of the music and attained a trancelike state that approached perfection. When he sensed him well immersed in it, Goten whispered the same erotic thought as he had earlier. That was when the fun would truly begin…
TBC in Chapter 3…
(A/N: The tropical drug plant ‘Sedilusta’ is fictional. Sorry. ^_^’)