Published: 1st October 2002

By: Kiarene

Warnings: Yaoi. (Vegeta/Goku, Vegeta/Yamcha)

Disclaimer: DBZ is not mine.

Archive? Please ask first.

 

‘…thoughts…’

 

A/N: Just a little one-shot that I needed to get out of my system before I can continue to work on “Something Jazz”… The mental image had been stuck in my mind for the past few weeks.

 

 

Whose Fault?

 

 

Vegeta stormed into the bar, his black mood roiling off him ominously. The more sober patrons avoided him prudently as he stalked over to a private booth, parting like a wave before him. A couple of brawny men who were too drunk to realize the danger they were in as they loomed over the deceptively diminutive prince were rudely, painfully and carelessly tossed across the room.

 

Sliding himself into the small booth, he signaled a nervous young waiter with an impatient flick of his hand. When the young man took a tad too long to materialize immediately beside his table, it became an impatient flick with a certain finger. “Your house draft, and keep them coming!” He barked as the young man nodded rapidly.

 

‘Bakayaro! How dare he? I am his mate, yet I continually play second fiddle to his sons…Why??’ Vegeta ranted silently as he downed drink after drink. ‘Saiyans owe their loyalty first and foremost to their mate, and I am the prince of all Saiyans. How dare he neglect me in favor of his baka sons? The elder spawn has his own family and the younger brat has my brat! Why does he keep running to them? They’ve grown up… Stupid Ningen customs…’

 

The prince was not used to being ignored. Or even slightly neglected. The bartender and other patrons watched with growing respect as the small prince put away mug after mug. Gradually, his mood became less angry, more morose and melancholy. Sniffing a bit, he recalled the good ‘ole days where his two loyal subjects jumped and catered to his every whim… Especially a certain male.

 

‘Radditz…’ His eyes misted slightly as he wallowed in self-pity. He missed the devotion of the wild-haired Saiyan; he missed the constant attention, the unquestioning loyalty. He missed snuggling up to that large, warm body, he missed running his hands through the river of ebony hair. He remembered how he used to curl up in sleep with those heavy tresses covering him comfortingly. It was always hard to forget your first…

 

“Radditz…” Vegeta’s eyes widened in shock as the object of his thoughts walked in through the door of the bar. That familiar spiky black hair, the cocky stance and flick of his wild mane… In his inebriated state, the question of what a supposedly long-dead person was doing in a bar did not cross the ouji’s mind.

 

Yamcha threw his hair over his shoulders as he entered the bar. Already, he could see a few people eyeing him, both female and male, and he grinned confidently. Growing his hair back to his desert-bandit-days length had been a brilliant idea. Not many men looked good in long hair, but he was one of those who can. He raked his fingers through his hair idly, frowning slightly. Though it can get rather messy and heavy… Fishing a red cord out of his pocket, he tied his hair back at the nape.

 

Seating himself at the bar, he absently signaled for the bartender and scanned the room. Hmmm…that woman in the short, red number looked really good… that hot guy on the dance floor checking him out definitely has potential….and…who’s that hunk in corner…? Yamcha’s eyes bugged out. Vegeta?

 

The slight prince was staring back at him with the strangest expression on his face, his eyes wide-open and his face slightly flushed. To his surprise, Vegeta then raised a hand at him and waved him over, a haughty come-hither smirk on his face. Blinking rapidly, he thought for a second, and then shrugged. Why not? He was curious to find out what Vegeta was doing in the bar too.

 

Walking over to the booth, he was about to seat himself across the ouji when Vegeta purred and patted the space beside him. Yamcha almost face-vaulted. The grumpy prince was really acting out of character tonight… Sweating a little nervously, he slid into the seat as Vegeta scooted further in.

 

“Uhh…so, Vegeta…”

 

“What are you doing here? No duty tonight?” Vegeta cut him off with a sly smirk.

 

Yamcha blinked again. Duty? “Uhh…” ‘Oh, so witty Yamcha. No wonder he’s always calling you a baka Ningen.’

 

“Mmmm….” To his shock, the prince leaned against him, purring loudly as he ran fine fingers through his hair. “Since when have you been tying back your hair?” And he reached up and pulled the cord off, throwing it away carelessly. Yamcha gulped, now certain that Vegeta was not in his right mind. He could smell the alcohol on the smaller male’s breath and from the flushed cheeks and glazed eyes, he knew that Vegeta was drunk. Probably pissed drunk too. He reddened as the prince then snuggled up, sniffing his long, spiky hair.

 

“Since when have you switched shampoos too?”

 

Yamcha closed his eyes. Oh kami. Oh dende. Vegeta probably has him mistaken for someone else… He hadn’t seen the prince for many years now but he had heard that Vegeta had taken up with Goku… But Goku didn’t look like him; how in the world…

 

He flushed as his groin reacted to the sexy ouji’s extreme close presence. Oh man. Vegeta is so going kill him when he sobers up…. ‘Gently disengage yourself, Yamcha. Say you got to go to the bathroom or something… Move!’

 

His legs remain frozen.

 

He gulped again as a soft furry tail snaked around his waist. Oh god, the lithe prince felt so good against him, and his scent! It was musky and fragrant… It must be some Saiyan thing. ‘I am so dead… but is it coming from his tail?’ Cautiously, he stroked the furry appendage gently and the spice-musk hit him full in the face. To his surprise, Vegeta started purring louder and writhing against him.

 

Vegeta smirked as he squirmed against Radditz. The light touches on his tail were driving him crazy; Radditz did always know how to touch him there… Pulling the brawny Saiyan down for a kiss, he leisurely explored the other’s mouth.

 

Yamcha closed his eyes in guilty bliss. Vegeta obviously wasn’t in his right mind but he just tasted so good… One of his hands crept around unconsciously to stroke the prince’s back as his other hand continued petting the tail around his waist. If that ambrosial musk hadn’t driven him crazy, the expert plundering of his mouth did. He would probably die later anyway so he figured he might as well go in style. He gave a groan as he sank into the kiss, slanting his head instinctively.

 

“C’mon… Let’s take this somewhere more comfortable.” Vegeta finally broke away, his lips swollen a rosy pink and dark eyes heavily lidded with lust.

 

Nodding speechlessly and dazedly, his eyes equally clouded over with lust, Yamcha allowed the prince to drag him out of the bar.

 

-----

 

Vegeta awoke with a splitting headache. His mouth tasted like something crawled in and died, and his bladder felt like it was going to explode. Growling, he slapped a hand out blindly for the light switch. Where the fuck was it? Snarling, he rolled out of bed and stumbled across the room in the inky darkness, cussing heatedly as he stubbed his toe. Did that baka re-arrange the furniture or something??

 

Somehow, he had managed to head in the correct direction and he slammed right into the toilet door. “Kuuuso!” He yowled as he slapped the light switch to the toilet in fury. Nursing his nose and squinting against the harsh white light, he pissed and turned around to head back to bed when he suddenly froze.

 

A blood-curdling scream rang out through the cheap hotel room.

 

Yamcha found himself extremely rudely woken up and hauled up by his neck by an enraged Saiyan prince. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN MY …room…” Vegeta’s words trailed off as he suddenly caught a good look at his surroundings.

 

Then his rage returned doubled. “WHAT IN HELL AM I DOING HERE??” He rattled the unfortunate Ningen in anger and shock.

 

“…ack…’eta….” Yamcha turned blue.

 

Vegeta realized that he would not be getting any answers out of the human if he died so he let him go with a snarl. “Speak!”

 

Yamcha fell gasping to his knees, his hands rubbing his abused throat as his face turned from blue to red. “…bar…you ….brought me here…”

 

“I did no such thing!!” Vegeta bellowed, but even as he tried to deny it, fragmented pieces of the evening came back to him. Shimattta! He had mistaken that weakling Ningen for ….

 

He fell to his knees, guilt and nausea overwhelming him. How could he have done that?? ‘Kakarrot…’

 

Yamcha watched the prince warily as he stared silently down at the cheap, tawdry carpet for long minutes, praying fervently all the while. Finally, the smaller male raised his head and impaled him with a piercing glare. “You will never, ever speak of this to anyone. Especially to Kakarrot. Do you understand?”

 

Yamcha nodded frantically.

 

“This never took place, Ningen.” Vegeta hissed as he advanced on the trembling male, his hands glowing. “I would kill you now, but just for Kakarrot…” He clenched his hands tightly, the ki dissipating as Yamcha blabbered.

 

“Nonono…this never took place I never saw you please don’t kill me Vegeta…”

 

Vegeta narrowed his eyes at the white-faced man. Damn, his head was killing him; it’s hard to be menacing when everything was spinning. Snarling, he spun about and streaked out from the window. Literally, as he was still stark naked. He wasn’t going to bother with his clothes though; he had to get back before Kakarrot woke up. Vegeta clutched his throbbing head as he flew erratically through the air. How did it all end up like this??

 

Yamcha sank to his knees, thankful that he knew Dende personally. How else was he to explain his miraculous escape? He watched the blue glowing figure speeding away a little sadly. ‘Vegeta…’

 

Stumbling in through their window, Vegeta made his way silently to the bathroom, thankful that Kakarrot was a heavy sleeper. Turning on the shower, he stepped under the steaming water and grabbed the bar of soap, intent on scrubbing the smell of sex and that Ningen off him. ‘Kakarrot…’ Scattered memories of the night came back to him as the hot water streamed over him. Guilt and bile rose up again and he lurched over to the sink.

 

Goku awoke at the retching sounds from the bathroom. “Vegeta…?” He murmured as he patted the empty space beside him. The prince had not returned after their fight and he figured that Vegeta went off somewhere to cool down. Padding across the bedroom, he pushed open the toilet door. “Vegeta!”

 

The prince was crouched over the sink and looking absolutely miserable as he gripped the edge with trembling hands. He was sopping wet, his eyes were bloodshot and his face was pale. “Go away, Kakarrot…” Vegeta croaked out as he turned on the tap to rinse his mouth.

 

Paying no heed, Goku was beside his mate in two long strides, a large towel in hand. Wrapping the towel around the shivering male, he could smell the lingering scent of alcohol on Vegeta’s breath. Guilt washed over him as he recalled their quarrel. Oh god, for Vegeta to have drunk himself to this state. He hugged the smaller Saiyan tightly, murmuring sadly. “I’m sorry, you were right. I shouldn’t keep running over to my sons, you are my mate. Come back to bed, koi…”

 

Vegeta allowed himself to be pulled back to their bed, his gaze downcast in guilt. ‘No, I’m sorry, Kakarrot.’

 

-----

 

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