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Pairing: GxV, one-shot
Warnings: yaoi lemon, PWP, ridiculousness, a little language
Disclaimers: I own neither DBZ nor the characters therein. No profit is
intended.
Summary: Pointless--err...PLOTLESS smut. *grins* And waffles.
italics = thoughts
"Here's the last batch, boys. Eat up! Oh, don't you boys look so handsome after your workout? All that sweat...and those muscles! If I were only a few years younger..." The ditzy blonde paused, giggled, and put her fingers to her lips. "And if I weren't already married! Oh, my!"
Goku blushed, still not used to Bulma's mother's occasional come-ons after all these years. Vegeta never seemed to mind--most of Mrs. Brief's mindless chatter seemed to go in one royal ear and out the other--but Goku wasn't used to hearing his few charms laid out so...baldly. It made him terribly uncomfortable. In fact, it made him feel as stupid and slow as Vegeta always called him.
Oh, for a witty retort....
"Now, you two eat everything on your plates! It's a shame to waste food, you know, with all those children starving in...in...well, on the news. Buh-bye!"
Shoving aside his discomfort, he dug into his heaping plate of waffles with a will. Gods, he loved waffles! Hot off the griddle, light and fluffy with all those little crevasses to soak up the butter and hot, homemade syrup....
Heaven on Earth.
He kept a careful eye on the diminishing pile in the middle of the table, hoping this last batch would be enough to hold him over until lunch. Training with Vegeta required all of his energy these days, and the last thing he needed was to run out of gas before gaining the upper hand.
But as he gulped down another stack and reached for more, he realized he'd have to really cram to get the last waffle. While a ridiculously neat eater, the Prince of all Saiyans could shovel with the best and was halfway through his latest stack already.
The younger Saiyan put up a good fight, but with three bites left on his plate and his mouth stuffed beyond ability to form words, he could only watch in helpless dismay as Vegeta forked the very last waffle onto his plate and smirked.
Nearly choking, he tried to chew and swallow quickly enough to lodge a protest, but the Prince was simply too quick. The last fluffy, golden-brown, slightly crispy waffle was buttered, syruped, and half- eaten before Goku could so much as moan a disappointed, "Vegetaaa!"
"Too slow, Kakarot." As always, his old rival's voice held traces of both amusement and arrogance. "Always too slow."
Leaping from his seat, the usually amenable younger Saiyan lunged for the coveted plate, but Vegeta was again too quick. Fork and plate in hand, the Prince dodged away and took another savoring bite, adding a little groan of appreciation as Goku watched in angst. Another lunge and another feint left him on his ass on the floor while Vegeta laughed and cut the next-to-last bite, smirking as he let it drip syrup for a moment before nibbling around the fork tines.
"Vegeta, pleeeease?" He hated whining, but...but it was the last waffle! And he loved waffles more than anything on the planet!
And Vegeta knew it.
The arrogant little bastard only laughed and finished his bite, forking the final little corner of waffle and waving it tauntingly as he chewed. He kept his eyes on the tick-tocking piece of ambrosia, settling his feet under him and waiting for the Prince to leave him an opening. That last bite was his, dammit!
The mocking smirk widened a fraction, and Vegeta's eyes lowered for just an instant to make sure he didn't miss his mouth for this final taunt. Springing up over the table in a full-body lunge, the younger Saiyan roared a challenge and reached, only to howl in dismay when the Prince paled and shoved that last, golden bite into his mouth-- probably more out of surprise than anything else--and tossed the plate and fork aside to catch the flying body.
They collided with a resounding thud, Goku's inertia carrying them over backward, flailing feet knocking over chairs and bumping dishware off the table to shatter on the floor. Desperate for even a taste at this point, he though nothing of clamping his mouth over Vegeta's, prying it open with his tongue and plundering for that last bite before the other Saiyan could swallow it.
He got little more than a soggy lump of mush for his efforts, but he suddenly didn't mind so much. His long-time sparring partner tasted of butter and syrup and...and something else. Definitely not waffles, but just as...appetizing.
Apparently though, the other Saiyan didn't appreciate his method of food extraction, giving him a mighty shove that sent him back-first into the side of the table, scooting it halfway across the room. On his ass again, he stared up at the red-faced, furious Prince, wondering if now would be a good time to put a hand to the back of his head and pretend to be a fool.
"Kakarot, you...you idiot! What do you think you're doing?"
Blushing, he realized he had just kissed the Prince of all Saiyans in Bulma's kitchen. Worse, the tingle in his groin wanted him to do it again. His eyes lowered to a dollop of butter on Vegeta's chin, then to a long drip of sticky syrup down the blue spandex stretched over that massive chest.
He pushed to his feet, eyes moving from the dark trickle to the dollop of butter and back, and stepped forward, grinning when Vegeta narrowed his eyes and scowled. The thunderous expression didn't stop him, though, and as he drew close enough to violate the Prince's unstated proximity rules, he ducked his head and licked at the syrup smear, sucking at the spandex when such a tiny taste wasn't good enough.
"What the...idiot! Stop that!"
But the protest was only verbal. Vegeta made no physical move to stop him, so he continued his tasting, leaving a swath of wet cloth in his wake, then lifting his head a bit to lick away the butter blot on the Prince's chin.
"Vegeta...you taste almost as good as the waffles."
Sputtering, the other Saiyan stepped back and glared, but Goku merely grinned sloopily and followed, getting a good, solid grip on brawny upper arms to pull the reluctant Prince in close. Vegeta's mouth was sweet and warm, slightly buttery and entirely too good not to savor, so he did just that, his tongue exploring the complex flavor for long moments before the Prince's tongue finally joined the kiss.
He pulled back a bit and moaned softly. "Gods, Vegeta, I lied. You taste better than waffles."
Strong fingers fisted in his hair, pulling him back down into another kiss, and he pushed forward until they sank back against the wall. Groaning, he pressed against his old rival, the tight spandex leaving little to the imagination as he slid between hard-muscled thighs and ground against the growing hardness there.
The heated, sweet mouth broke away from his own, and, with only a wicked chuckle and a brief spin for warning, he found himself flat on his back, a jagged chunk of broken plate digging into his shoulder blade.
"What the--?"
Smirking, Vegeta leaned down until his glittering, dark eyes filled up the world. "You didn't really think you'd be on top, did you?"
Flustered, he tried to hide his blush and think fast at the same time- -never his strong suit. "But...hey, but you got the last waffle!"
Oh, Goku...you ARE an idiot....
A snort. "And your point is?"
He flared his energy and lifted them both off the floor, turning to drop them down onto the table with a grunting, squirming Vegeta under him. Grinning, he leaned down, much as the other Saiyan had done.
"My point is that you owe me."
"Kakarot, don't even think--"
Cutting off the tirade with a kiss, Goku started to wonder what on Earth had possessed him, then decided he didn't care. The Prince tasted wonderful, even without the buttery, syrupy remains of breakfast in his mouth, and the shift and flex of spandexed muscle felt so very delicious against his body. He wanted...he wanted...
...more.
Groaning, he tugged at the spandex, annoyed when it simply stretched instead of ripping nicely. Damn Bulma and her inventions! Swallowing a growl, he tore his mouth away from the other and jerked to his feet beside the table, stripping the resilient material from Vegeta's body in three quick tugs, leaving the Prince naked and blinking, chiseled thighs straddling his own.
Oohhh...now there's a sight....
He paused a long moment to savor the bronzed skin, the scattering of scars, the cut muscle and perfection of proportion, then fixed his gaze on a jar of Mrs. Brief's homemade syrup that had escaped their brief scuffle. A crooked smirk that could rival Vegeta's best quirked his lips, and he leaned forward again, laying half over his prey, and warmed the jar with ki, ignoring the Prince's widening eyes.
"What are you--ah!"
The sculpted abdomen flinched and sucked in at the first touch of warmed syrup, and he couldn't help widening his smirk a bit as he put aside the jar. Tracing a finger along the ridges and crevasses of the Prince's stomach, he licked his lips and bent to taste. Much better than waffles, though the principle was the same, what with all the crevasses to fill and explore. So very sweet...with a hint of sweat from their workout and that ephemeral, indefinable taste that was perfectly, simply Vegeta....
"I should've put the butter on first...."
A low, purring moan was his only answer, so he guessed the Prince didn't mind his forgetfulness. Besides, he had other ideas for the butter. Groaning at the thought, he dipped his tongue into the syrup- filled belly button, enjoying both the sugar rush and the clench of chiseled stomach muscles.
His hands joined the fray, smearing syrup everywhere and making his slow, thorough oral clean-up that much more difficult and much more interesting. Vegeta tasted so good...and with each flick of his tongue, each stroke of his fingers, each recoating of ki-heated syrup, the Prince's flexing and groaning increased until that glorious body literally trembled with need and desire.
Vegeta...was trembling...for him. What on Earth had he done right today to earn this?
A purr rumbled to life in his chest, and he finally drew his tongue further down, tickling along the thatch of hair at Vegeta's groin. Syrupy sweetness combined nicely with Saiyan musk, and his purr deepened enough that the Prince groaned and shifted restlessly. Strong fingers worked their way into his wayward spikes, and he paused his licking to give a good, hard suck at the skin just above the groin, grinning when Vegeta bucked his hips up with a startled grunt.
"Damn you, Kakarot...."
But there was no real anger behind the curse. In fact, Goku was quite sure there was a muffled, nearly strangled plea in those growling syllables. And if the fingers clenching in his spikes were any indication, the last thing Vegeta wanted to do was damn him.
Giving into that unvoiced plea, he traced sticky-slick fingers up the hard length he had deliberately ignored, then wrapped his hand around it and stroked once. He glanced up as the Prince arched, taking in the beautiful need in every trembling line of body and face, then stared at the syrupy arousal he held. A slow grin stretched his lips as he contemplated his next move.
Another slow, tight stroke bought him a moment to search around for the softened butter Mrs. Briefs had thoughtfully provided them before leaving. He dragged the bowl closer, giving another stroke to keep Vegeta properly oblivious, then coated the fingers of his free hand, watching the heady, arousing reactions to his every touch. Bending down again, he licked over the syrupy head, savoring the Prince's rattling purr nearly as much as he savored the incredible taste of sweetened musk.
Oh...fuck the waffles! This...this is....
But cleaning off all of that syrup took too much concentration, and he couldn't finish the thought. Long, sloppy licks along the length gave way to nibbling kisses, then to a single, sharp bite to the head. Vegeta flinched and yipped, but Goku was quick to apologize by taking him to the root, swallowing around the uncomfortable girth and trying to purr. Any plans for retaliation quite obviously vanished in a resounding groan and a thrust of hips.
Nearly choking, he pulled back just a bit, then purred and lapped sloppily at the remaining sweetness, drooling shamelessly as he tried to suck and lick at the same time. Whatever he lacked in technique, he apparently made up for in eagerness, as the Prince thrashed and moaned and tugged on his spikes, trying desperately to thrust and growling his frustration when Goku held him down with one strong hand on his hip.
Finally remembering his other hand and its mission, he shifted a bit to one side and redoubled his oral efforts, slicking his fingers up one clenched thigh and over the tight opening. If Vegeta noticed, he didn't protest, so he slid one buttered finger inside, an absurdly amusing thought--hot, buttered Vegeta--nearly making him laugh before a wild lunge thrust the Prince's length down his throat again. Returning to the task at hand, he thrust a few times, then added another finger, stretching and reaching for that one spot....
"Kakarrrot!"
Yup. That one. Wincing at the ache in his throat from the force of that last lunge, he got a better grip on the writhing hip and pulled back to a more comfortable vantage, sucking hard and grinding his fingers against the place he'd discovered. Vegeta roared and trembled, nearly tearing out handfuls of hair as his body clenched and writhed.
Beautiful....
And it was. So beautiful, in fact, that he relinquished his mouthful to better watch the Prince in his ecstasy as he added a third finger and mercilessly assaulted that wonderful little bundle of nerves. The response was even more beautiful.
"Kakarot...please!"
Oh, yes, my Prince.... Anything to hear that....
Removing his fingers, he crawled up onto the table, hooked his elbows under Vegeta's knees, and pressed in, leaning down to catch the resulting howl with his lips. Searing, butter-slicked heat engulfed him, and he couldn't restrain his own muted howl into Vegeta's mouth as he pulled away and thrust hard, shuddering as electric bliss shot up his spine.
He pounded mercilessly, drinking down purring, yelping cries for more and even flaring to Super Saiyan to better please his Prince. His balance radically shifted at one point, but as the change only made it easier to thrust by tilting them both nearly vertically, he paid it no mind. Vegeta clawed at his back, likely drawing blood, but it felt...wonderful, so he thrust harder still, howling as he felt his climax approach.
A single touch to the throbbing, iron-hard erection against his stomach brought the Prince over the edge, and the exquisite clench of that perfect body flung him into the breach, as well, his own roar nearly deafening him to Vegeta's cries. The excruciating pleasure lasted and lasted, their bodies locked in tableau, muscles achingly defined at the pinnacle.
Then, Goku slumped, his forehead dropping to the Prince's shoulder as he gasped for much-needed air. Vegeta shuddered and panted below him, arms clutching him close. Grinning like the fool he'd always been dubbed, he turned his head slightly and rested his cheek against the sweaty, musky-scented neck, listening to the wild pulse throbbing just below the bronzed skin.
A short, strangled noise startled him from his afterglow, though, and he jerked up, realizing for the first time that the perspective of the room was all wrong. When had they ended up on the floor?
"G--goku!"
Uh-oh. Squinting one eye shut in mortification, he looked up-- waaay up--to see a red-faced, wide-eyed Bulma standing in the doorway, her expression and the long, old-fashioned nightgown making her look about ten years old.
"Oh, hi, Bulma...."
Vegeta grunted, drawing his attention, and he shifted slightly, wondering if the Prince wanted him to get up or stay put and keep his nudity covered. And just how the hell was he supposed to explain this?
"Kakarot, you broke the table."
Blinking, he shook his head at that non sequitur and looked back at Bulma, whose face had deepened to the shade of red that only overripe tomatoes achieved.
"You...you...bastards! This is the third time this week!" Glaring daggers, she propped her fists on her hips and shrilled away. "Do you think tables that sturdy are so damn easy to replace? Do you?!"
"S--sorry, Bulma, but--"
"And just what do you have to say for yourself, Son Goku? I'd thought you the more responsible of the two of you, dammit!"
"Hey!" the Prince protested, scowling.
"I...well...." Blushing miserably, he fell back on the tried-and- true, scratching the back of his head and grinning like a fool. "He took the last waffle!"
Rolling her eyes, she groaned. "He always takes the last waffle, Goku! It's the only way he can get you to fight for the top spot!"
"Woman!"
Blinking, he cocked his head to one side. Come to think of it, Vegeta did always snag the last waffle...which did usually lead to him chasing it...which usually led to....
"HEY!"
Glaring down at wide, slightly panicked eyes, he rumbled a growl. Vegeta, never a fool even at his worst, shoved him off and scrambled away, dodging the shrapnel of their latest escapade and heading for the stairs and the safety of the shower.
He pushed to his feet and started after his mate, intent on more retribution. "Dammit, Vegeta! Get back here!"
"Oh, no, mister!" Bulma stepped between him and the door, radiating righteous fury that brought him to a screeching halt. "You're not going anywhere until you clean up this mess!"
Blushing again, he looked around at the destruction--broken crockery and plates, twisted silverware, syrup and melted butter dripping from every surface, snapped and splintered table legs--and groaned. "But Buuulmaaa...."
"No buts, Goku! You break it; you fix it. Clean up your mess, and no more boinking in the kitchen!"
Pouting, he crossed his arms, wrinkling his nose as he realized how sticky he was. "Why doesn't Vegeta have to clean up?"
Snorting, she pivoted and headed for the door. "Because he was smart enough to make a quick getaway. Get to work, Goku."
"Aw, c'mon!"
"Now!"
Grumbling and scowling, he looked around the destroyed kitchen and humphed. "Damned waffles. This sucks!"
END
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