Okay but Vegeta X Bulma X Yamcha is the trio with the most hilarious dynamic, even if you don't ship them all together.
It could even be as simple as "this is my wife Bulma and this is her boyfriend Yamcha" or "this is my girlfriend Bulma and this is her husband Vegeta" or even "this is my husband Vegeta and my boyfriend Yamcha" and it's incredible.
@spiritbathbomb also asked for prompt 25 “I’ve never felt this way before… and to be honest, it scares the living shit out of me.” with Vegeta/Yamcha (and honestly how was I supposed to say no to that rarest of pairs, also it got way too long and out of hand so UNDER A CUT IT GOES)
Yamcha had been completely and totally fine with his usual relationship with Vegeta, which was a tentative, awkward friendship, one that generally involved a lot of yelling and snark. Some days, Yamcha was pretty sure that the only reason he was still breathing was because he was friends with Bulma, and if Vegeta wanted to keep relying on her for free food and use of the gravity chamber, he had to keep himself from killing her friends if they annoyed him.
Or, at least, that was how their relationship started.
It had taken years, but over time Vegeta had somehow wedged himself into their inner circle, and even Yamcha, who had probably more reasons to hate him than any of the others, found that he’d be upset if Vegeta left for good. Others less so--he knew Tien still hated and distrusted Vegeta as much as he did the day they first met, but Yamcha had never been all that good at holding grudges. Hell, he wouldn’t be as close with Tien if he was. And it had taken a long time, but he’d finally mellowed out a little. Yes, Vegeta was still intense as ever, always training to defeat Goku. He was crass and rude and a downright jerk.
But when it came right down to it, Vegeta could be counted on to make sure Bulma and her family were safe in an emergency. He did care about the fate of the world, even if it was (as Yamcha suspected) only because he lived on it. And every so often he’d look at Yamcha, actually make direct eye contact, and smile, and Yamcha would have to pause for a moment to collect himself because Vegeta was really handsome.
Besides, if Yamcha could accept Piccolo, surely he could accept Vegeta, too.
“You’re too nice,” Tien informed him bluntly when Yamcha brought it up. “He tried to destroy the world, remember? He tried to kill all of us, and the only reason he didn’t was because others got to it first.”
Yamcha shrugged. “I used to be a bandit and you used to be an assassin.”
“He blew up planets, Yamcha. Forgive me if I have a hard time seeing eye to eye with him.”
“Hey, don’t get me wrong, I don’t see eye to eye with him either--”
“If you make a crack about his height I’m leaving.”
Yamcha grinned sheepishly. “Okay, but aside from that. I don’t like him, I think, but I don’t hate him. I think.”
Tien raised an eyebrow. “You think? You don’t know?”
“I’m not sure. I mean, sometimes he’ll be doing something and I’ll forget he used to be a homicidal maniac monkey-man from outer space. Like the way he looks at Trunks when he thinks no one’s watching him. He puts on a front, but I think Trunks is the one person he really cares about. And that’s...I guess I can see why Bulma puts up with him. You know?”
Tien shook his head. “No, I don’t. But I’m not going to tell you what to do. If you want to be friends with Vegeta, I’m not going to stop you.” He paused. “I will tell you to be careful, though. Vegeta’s...unpredictable.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Yamcha laughed.
Somewhere, though, over the last few months since that conversation, things had changed and shifted again. Yamcha caught himself staring at Vegeta, and sometimes he’d catch Vegeta staring back. Every time Dr. Briefs came into the store Yamcha worked at part-time, Vegeta was there, following grumpily behind him with one eye on Yamcha the whole time. Whenever Yamcha dropped by Capsule Corp to talk to Bulma, he could always feel Vegeta’s badly-suppressed ki somewhere close by.
It was unnerving, but Vegeta never seemed hostile. He certainly seemed uncomfortable and even a little confused, but never like he was planning on attacking Yamcha. He hardly ever exchanged words with him, though.
Eventually, Yamcha got fed up.
“You wanna sit?” he asked. Vegeta balked from his position in the doorway, staring at Yamcha like he’d grown a second head. Yamcha gestured to the kitchen table, especially the plate of sandwiches Bulma’s mother had made for Yamcha while he waited for Bulma to be done in the lab. “There’s too many for me to eat by myself,” he said. “I’m sure you’re hungry--you always are. Have a sandwich.”
Vegeta squinted at Yamcha suspiciously, but to his surprise walked into the room and sat heavily in the chair next to Yamcha. He snatched one of the sandwiches and shoved it in his mouth whole, staring moodily at Yamcha the whole time. Yamcha blinked and scooted his chair a little further from Vegeta. He was becoming a better person, for sure, but his idea of personal space still left a lot to be desired. And he stank. Clearly he’d just left the gravity chamber for a break from training. The sweat dripping down his neck and disappearing under the collar of his too-tight tank top would’ve been a dead giveaway if the smell hadn’t tipped Yamcha off.
He flushed and went back to his sandwich. What the hell was he doing staring at Vegeta’s chest?
“Why are you here?”
Vegeta’s voice was raspy and Yamcha wondered if he was coming down with a cold or if his voice was just tired from all the screaming he did while he trained. He looked back at Vegeta and saw him looking him steadily in the eyes. Yamcha blinked. Was...was this Vegeta’s version of small talk?
“Just came to see Bulma.” Yamcha shrugged and reached for another sandwich. “Nothing special.”
“Why?” Vegeta’s face darkened and Yamcha swallowed. He’d have to be careful how he answered--but he didn’t know what the right answer was. Honesty was the best policy, probably, except in this case it might get him killed. He knew full well how Vegeta could be when it came to Bulma.
“Because we’re friends,” he said simply. “We might not be dating anymore, but we still like to hang out sometimes.” He resisted the urge to ask whether that was okay. Vegeta had no say in who Bulma chose to spend time with. And it wasn’t like they were actually together--both Bulma and Vegeta were adamant about reminding people of that.
Vegeta nodded. “Good.” He grabbed another sandwich and pointed it at Yamcha. “Keep it that way.”
Yamcha frowned. “Keep it what way?”
“You and her. Friends. That’s all. Keep it that way.”
“Seriously?” Yamcha shook his head. “First of all, that ship sailed years ago. Secondly, you’re not even her boyfriend, and you’re definitely not her dad. You don’t have any say in who she dates.”
“Not her, you idiot.” Vegeta stood and glared down at him. “I’m talking about you.”
Yamcha’s mouth went dry. “What?”
Vegeta shrugged. “Whatever.” He turned and started to leave and something in Yamcha snapped. He lunged to grab Vegeta’s wrist and Vegeta stopped, turning back to him. “What now?”
“You--you can’t just say something like that and then leave!” Yamcha snapped. “What are you talking about?”
Vegeta yanked his wrist away. “I just don’t like you dating people. That’s all. There’s nothing weird about it.”
“Yeah, there kind of is!” Yamcha folded his arms and glared. “Why is it any business of yours who I date?” Not that Yamcha had gotten many dates since he and Bulma broke up for good. He’d had a few, and others he’d turned down for one reason or another, but not many. But that wasn’t really the point.
Vegeta squirmed, actually squirmed, and looked away, clutching the ends of the towel around his neck. “I just don’t like it.” He glared at Yamcha. “And it’s in your best interests to keep me happy.” With that, he turned and stalked out of the room.
Yamcha stared after him, wondering what the hell Vegeta’s problem was now.
“Train with me.”
Yamcha paused midstep and looked over his shoulder. He’d just been about to leave Capsule Corp after an afternoon of hanging out and talking shop with Bulma. He’d been able to push the incident with Vegeta earlier to the back of his mind, but with Vegeta next to him again the memory came back full force.
Vegeta’s arms were crossed, and he glared up at Yamcha as if he was daring him to say no. “I said, train with me,” he repeated. “You’ve been slacking and it won’t do.”
Yamcha shrugged and backed up a step. “I don’t think I could keep up with you. You drag me into that chamber of yours and I’m not going to last very long.”
A light flush spread across Vegeta’s cheeks and he glanced away for a moment. Yamcha suddenly realised what he’d said. “Not like that!” he snapped, embarrassed. “I mean physically! Fighting, physically! In combat!” He buried his face in his hands and groaned. All he was doing was digging himself deeper.
“I won’t turn on the gravity.” A hand grabbed the front of Yamcha’s shirt and he was yanked forward. Yamcha squawked with surprise and his hands shot out to steady himself against the nearest available surface--Vegeta’s shoulders. Vegeta’s face was now just inches from his own, his expression just as intense as ever, but there was something else to it, too, something different about the heat coming from him. Yamcha swallowed. “Train with me,” Vegeta said again, quieter.
Yamcha licked his lips. They were so dry all of a sudden. “Why?”
“Because--” Vegeta leaned back, looking confused, like he hadn’t expected the question and for once didn’t have an answer prepared. “I like you.”
“Uh--” Yamcha could feel his face heating up to the tips of his ears. “Y-you mean like as a friend, right?”
“Of course,” Vegeta scoffed, rolling his eyes. Then he hesitated. “We...are friends now, I suppose.”
Despite himself, Yamcha felt a smile spread across his face. “Yeah, I think we are.”
Vegeta nodded once, decisively. “And friends train together, spend time together. You spent time with Bulma today because you’re friends. Now it’s my turn.”
“Vegeta, look, I’m flattered, but--” Yamcha shook his head and pulled back, and to his surprise Vegeta allowed it. “It’s getting late, and if I’m not home to cook dinner Puar’ll have my head. I promised.” Vegeta scowled and Yamcha shoved his hands in his pockets, wondering if he’d just signed his own death warrant. “Look, do--did you just want to train with me as a way to spend time with me and that’s all you could think of, or because you wanted to train and I just happened to be around?”
Vegeta didn’t look at him, instead contemplating the ground. “The former.”
“Oh.” Yamcha’s stomach fluttered. “Well look, do you--Puar wouldn’t mind, I don’t think, but do you want to come back to my place? I can’t feed you too well, I mean I’m not rich or anything, but I’ll make you dinner.” He offered Vegeta a lopsided grin. “I’m a damn good cook, you know.”
“I didn’t know.” Vegeta still looked grouchy as always, but something about him seemed softer already. Yamcha couldn’t tell if it was his face, his posture, his voice, or something else, but it was kind of nice. “Yes. I’ll go with you.”
And Yamcha came to the sudden realisation that he’d just invited Vegeta to his apartment. What the hell had he gotten himself into?
Yamcha flopped onto the couch with a sigh. Vegeta sat next to him, legs crossed and arms folded, hardly even leaning into the couch. “You can relax, you know,” Yamcha told him. He’d been this way all through supper, to the point where Puar had left as soon as she figured out that Vegeta wasn’t leaving immediately afterwards. The atmosphere in the apartment was scarily tense. “I know it’s a bit of a foreign concept for you, but you are allowed to just chill. We’re friends, remember? You said so yourself.”
Vegeta grunted, but slowly eased back into the cushions. He glanced at Yamcha, then back in front of him. “I am not good at small talk.”
“Yeah, I noticed.” Yamcha grinned. “I mean, your idea of small talk is “why are you here,” so yeah.”
Vegeta turned towards him, scrutinizing his face. “Alright, I give up.”
Yamcha’s smile faltered. “What?” Vegeta never gave up on anything. It was one of the things Yamcha liked about him, one of the better parts of his personality. What could he possibly be giving up on?
“You are confusing.” Vegeta pointed at Yamcha. “I’ve been trying to figure out how I feel about you and I have had no success.”
Yamcha sat up and faced Vegeta fully. “We’re friends, aren’t we? I thought that’s what we said.”
Vegeta waved him off. “I know what friendship is like. This is not that.”
“Do you?” Yamcha’s eyebrow raised doubtfully. “Name one person you count as a friend that isn’t me, Bulma, or Trunks.”
He faltered. “Kak--no. Bulma’s parents.”
Yamcha buried his smirk and didn’t comment on the fact that Vegeta had almost admitted he actually liked Goku. “Okay, fine. So you have different feelings for me than you do Bulma or her parents?”
“Yes.” Vegeta maintained steady, unwavering eye contact with Yamcha.
“I don’t know what to tell you.” Yamcha shook his head. “Look, how do you feel about me? Like when you look at me, or when we’re talking.” Vegeta glared and Yamcha shrugged. “It’s all I’ve got, man. I want to know this answer just as much as you do.” There were butterflies in Yamcha’s stomach for the first time in years. He didn’t know what to do. But he managed to keep his voice steady, and he didn’t waver. Hopefully he came across as more confident than he felt.
“When I see you.” Vegeta looked Yamcha up and down slowly, and Yamcha blushed. Was he checking him out? No, that would be stupid. “You’re very attractive.”
Yamcha’s heart stuttered. “P-pardon?”
Vegeta rolled his eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head. You’re a good-looking man, well-groomed and with strong features. That’s all.”
“So,” Yamcha said, voice shaking, “when you look at me you think about...how attractive I am?”
“Yes.” Vegeta shook his head. “It’s not like I’ve never found anyone attractive before, Yamcha.” Yamcha swallowed. He didn’t remember the last time he’d heard Vegeta say his name, and there was something about hearing it said in that low growl that really did it for him. “That is not the way I’ve never felt--I’ve felt that way about many people. The new feeling is that I want to spend time with you. I’m not used to that.” He stared at a point over Yamcha’s shoulder, eyebrows drawn together as he tried to concentrate. “Because I enjoy your company, I think, whatever you might think about that. You are intelligent, but not obnoxious about it, and for some reason you offer me kindness.” He almost spat the word, but more confused than angry. “It makes me happy, and I don’t know why. I’ve never felt this way before. And to be honest it--” He paused and looked Yamcha straight in the eye. “It scares the living shit out of me.”
Yamcha’s eyes widened and he leaned back in shock. He’d never heard Vegeta openly admit to being afraid of anything before. Although, he supposed, Vegeta’s preferred method of dealing with things was to punch them, and try as he might he couldn’t punch his feelings. “Vegeta,” he said slowly, “do you like me as a friend or--do you like like me?” He felt like an idiot using such grade-school language, but he wasn’t sure Vegeta would react well to the other L word yet. Or how he would react himself.
Vegeta’s eyes flicked to Yamcha’s mouth and he licked his lips. “Yes.”
“No, I mean--look, do you want to hang out and spend time together as friends, or do you want to k-kiss me?” Yamcha stammered. This was going downhill fast.”
“Yes.” Vegeta leaned forward, eyes intently on Yamcha’s. Yamcha held his ground as Vegeta put his face inches from his own. “I want both of those things.”
Yamcha squeezed his eyes shut. “Vegeta, I think you love me--mmph!”
His eyes flew open at the feeling of a pair of lips on his, and Vegeta was kissing him. Holy fuck. What did he do? He couldn’t back up because he was pressed against the arm of the couch, and he didn’t have enough strength to throw Vegeta off him. But on the other hand, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
Vegeta moved back, opening his eyes, and Yamcha stared wide-eyed at him as he tried to figure out what was happening. Bad enough that Vegeta was apparently in love with him, but for him to kiss Yamcha--and for Yamcha to like it, at least a little--that was just bizarre.
Except was it, really? He liked Vegeta a lot, too. He’d grown to really care about him, and maybe those feelings went a little beyond friendship. He’d lost count of the times he’d caught himself accidentally checking Vegeta out, and as much as he found Vegeta was watching him, he was watching Vegeta just as often. Yamcha bit his lip. Well. What was he supposed to do now?
Vegeta scoffed, dragging Yamcha from his panicked thoughts. “I suppose this is the part where you tell me to get out.”
“No, I--” Yamcha put his hands on Vegeta’s shoulders and did the only thing he could think of.
Was doing some warm up drabbles in the Kakavege chat (please pm me if you need the link!) and thought I’d share here in case anyone else was interested. I did Kakavege and Preparation H for @everybodylovesgoku and Vegecha and A/B/O for @spiritbathbomb !
Under the cut since it’s a bit long with them together!
“Shit, Geety, I need ya so much! Are ya ready for me?”
“No, you idiot! At least use some lubrication!”
“Oh yeah!”
Vegeta could feel two long fingers smearing cold gel against his entrance and slipping inside. He sighed and relaxed into his lover’s touch, letting Goku prod and stretch him.
“Okay! You should be good now!”
“Wait! That was barely a minute!” There was an insistent push against his hole and Vegeta cried out in pain. Then he furrowed his brow as he realized he wasn’t actually in pain. He didn’t really feel anything the more he thought about it.
“Kakarot, what did you put on me?”
“Preparation gel!”
Vegeta pushed his lover off him and grabbed the bottle to inspect it. “’Preparation H’? This isn’t what we normally use.”
“It said preparation on the package so I thought it would be better!”
Face draining as he read the back of the bottle, Vegeta chucked it at Goku’s face. “Idiot! This isn’t for sex! It’s for pain!”
“Well sometimes ya say it hurts, so isn’ that good?” Goku pouted and rubbed his flagging dick. His eyes grew wide and he stroked himself harder. “Geety! I can’ feel my dick now!”
“That’s what you get!” Vegeta hissed at the clown and flopped back on the bed. It seemed a fitting punishment that he shouldn’t be the only one missing out on getting pleasure that night.
--------
Vegeta could smell it right away. Someone in the group of misfits was an omega. Inhaling deeper, he tried to pick out which one but they were all so close together it was hard to distinguish among them. His dark eyes poured over the group and he bristled as he noticed the scent of a beta as well. But they were both distinct, not mingled as if mutually claimed. His mouth curved into a smirk and he looked up at Nappa—the larger man grinned down knowingly.
“Should I use the Saibamen, Vegeta?”
“That sounds like a splendid idea, Nappa.”
Planting some seeds in the ground, the two Saiyans watched as the Saibamen sprouted forth. The little green men cackled wildly as they eyed the group of Earthlings. Without needing further instruction, they leapt forward as a group to scatter the resistance fighters. Vegeta looked on with great interest as the Saibamen danced around the Earthlings, maneuvering them with secret intent. The man with long hair and scars was pushed to the front and Vegeta smirked as the scent became stronger. So this was the omega. Vegeta raked over the muscular frame and handsome features, a fine looking male indeed—weak, but spirited and willing to fight even though clearly outmatched. The prince was intrigued. Blasting the Saibamen that had been fighting the male, Vegeta stepped forward to take its place.
“What’s an omega doing on the battlefield?” He threw feints to test the fighter. He snickered at the blush the question garnered and got behind the man in a headlock. “Not mated either? Very interesting.”
“Get off me, you freak!”
Vegeta smirked and held the fighter tighter to him. “We came here to kill Kakarot. But now that you’ve caught my eye maybe we could work out a trade.” The omega struggled against him, cursing and demanding to be set free. Vegeta sniffed the base of his neck and purred from the intoxicating scent.
“Come be my pet and we’ll let your precious Kakarot live.” The struggling died down and Vegeta could tell the man was debating their chances. Just when he thought the fighter would agree, he felt a sharp stomp on his foot.
“I’m nobody’s pet! You’re going to be eating those words!”
Vegeta released the omega with a grin. In truth he preferred it this way, was enticed by the hunt. Lips curled into a sneer, he stared at the handsome omega. This man would be his—of this he had no doubt. This was turning out to be a wonderful day for the prince. He’d kill the traitor Kakarot and his other friends, then take this prize for himself. The three-year journey had definitely been worth it.
