Chapter Text
“Oh, Goku,” Chi-Chi breathes when she finally recovers from her shock. She nods enthusiastically, launching herself into his arms. “Of course I’ll marry you!”
The cheering and applause echoes in her ears as she holds Goku close to her. She kisses him all over while grinning from ear to ear, eyes glistening with tears of joy. She pulls back from him and lets him place the delicate ring on her finger, the diamond sitting nestled amongst an intricate design in the gold surrounding it. It’s beautiful. She meets his eyes to find that they, too, are shining with happy tears.
Then Goku stands up, and she with him, and kisses her deeply. The moment feels like it will never end.
---
Bulma’s hand finds Vegeta’s as they look on. He tenses for a moment before relaxing and gripping her fingers gently between his own. Goku and Chi-Chi embrace and kiss for far longer than he’s comfortable watching, so finally he pulls away from Bulma and focuses on the appetizer in front of him.
The table is alight with chatter and congratulations for the rest of the evening. Krillin relates a tale from when Goku and Chi-Chi were first interested in each other, much to Goku’s embarrassment. Bulma divulges how Chi-Chi wouldn’t stop pestering her to find out if Goku even knew that she liked him. Turns out he was pretty dense and was the last person to know that he had a girlfriend.
And of course, as the evening wears on, Goku and Chi-Chi leave first, arm in arm.
“Hey, lovebirds!” a rosy-cheeked Krillin hollers after them. “Get a room!”
Vegeta rolls his eyes at the vulgarity and implication of the phrase. “I didn’t want to think about that, thank you very much,” he grumbles after the newly-engaged couple have left.
“You’re just mad because you ain’t gettin’ any!” Krillin teases, then looks away abruptly as Vegeta fixes him in a murderous glare. He hiccups, mumbles something about the bathroom, and excuses himself hastily from the table.
Vegeta growls under his breath and downs the rest of his drink, making to stand.
Bulma catches his eye and smiles. “Don’t let him get to you, he’s just drunk,” she says. “He’s never been the cleverest of people.” She pushes back her chair, too.
“You wanna get out of here?”
With a resolute nod Vegeta stands and puts on his jacket. The party at the table all take their cue and begin packing up their things, so by the time Bulma has spoken to the maitre d’ and thanked everybody for coming, they’re the last to leave.
She confidently slips her arm into his and leads him outside, where she takes him around to an unlit side of the building. Her car sits in the tiny space against the building reserved for visits like these.
“Aren’t you glad that’s over?” she says, kicking off her shoes and hopping onto the hood of the car. The crescent moon above grants them little light to see by, and Vegeta can barely make out Bulma’s silhouette as she reaches out for him.
“Incredibly so,” Vegeta agrees, responding to her summons by approaching her warily. He looks down at his feet; the blush that had risen to his cheeks at Krillin’s crass comment still hasn’t subsided. And Bulma had obviously heard him, too, which only makes matters worse. She pats the hood next to where she sits, indicating for him to join her.
Once Vegeta is seated, she tucks herself up next to him. The cardigan she wears barely keeps the chilled spring air off her delicate skin, causing her to shiver, and Vegeta instinctively wraps an arm around her shoulders.
“So, I guess there’ll be a wedding to plan, hey?” She says, leaning her head against his chest.
He grumbles in agreement. “Life is just one chaotic situation after another. I haven't had a moment to rest in literal months.”
“You're happy for them, though,” Bulma says, voice aggravatingly teasing. “I know you care.”
Vegeta sniffs derisively. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing?” Then, “As long as they don't expect me to get excited about wedding plans. I don't care about any of that.”
Bulma looks up at him. “Have you ever been to a wedding before?”
“Do I look like I have?” Vegeta says, lifting an eyebrow. “You know what kind of life I lived. You people are the first ones I've ever considered ‘friends’.”
“Well, then this will be your first. It'll be fun. There’s music, dancing, free food…”
“Let me be clear, I do not dance,” Vegeta says. “But the free food is tempting.”
“I thought that might catch your attention,” she says, startling him when she runs her fingers softly down his face and rests them under his chin.
Though he does not feel cold, Vegeta shivers under her touch. He hasn’t dared bring the subject up, but if she wants to continue their little romp from all those months ago tonight, he won’t object. Hell knows they could use the respite.
Being who he is, however, the impending consequences don’t escape his notice. If they… if they go there, tonight, there’ll be no going back. For him, it’ll be all or nothing.
For her, well.
She’s a busy woman, and she deserves to spend her downtime with someone better than him.
But right now, she’s looking up at him with bedroom eyes, and if he leans down just a bit more, he can just reach her mouth with his-
He shoves his doubts aside and their lips meet fervently, all tongue and teeth and pure, unadulterated desire. His hands find their way into her hair, pulling her closer. She smells so damn good, he wants to bury his face into her neck and stay there in her warmth forever. “Bulma,” he groans as she pulls away to tug at his tie.
Once it’s loose, she unbuttons his shirt and slides her hands unburdened across his chest. “Tell me,” she breathes in his ear. “Have you been thinking about me as much as I've been thinking about you?”
“More,” Vegeta growls back, slipping the cardigan off her shoulders and baring her skin to the night air. He laves at her collarbone like a starving man at a banquet, stealing moans and gasps from her as he moves downward. He knows they should stop. They should talk about this.
A lot has gone on since the last time they had alone time like this. But none of that matters to him right now; all he wants is Bulma and he won't stop until he has her. His hands slide instinctively across the expanse of her skin, his body picking up the slack where his mind goes blank at the feeling of her.
He slides off the car and turns to face the beautiful woman who for some reason seems to want him just as much as he wants her.
She pulls him closer to her by the loose tie around his neck, grinning as his hands find her hips easily. “There isn't anybody around,” she whispers. “If you wanted to have a little fun.” She wiggles her breasts in Vegeta's face invitingly. An unfamiliar thrill runs through him at the thought of burying his face in her bosom while exposed to the world around them.
“Don't mind if I do,” he growls, sliding the thin straps off of her shoulders and reaching around to undo the zipper in the back. The dress folds onto itself as he guides it along, tongue following the path of his hands. “I've missed these,” he murmurs as he sucks one pert nipple into his mouth.
Bulma cries out into the night air before clamping a hand over her mouth to stifle the noise. “God, yes,” she groans once she has herself under control. “You have no idea how many times I had to stop myself from - oh! - from jumping you while you were in the hospital.”
Vegeta flicks his tongue around one nipple and grins around her breast as she cries out again. “Mm, planning to take advantage of poor, injured me, were you?”
“I might’ve been,” she gasps, throwing her head back and gripping his hair tight in her fist. Her hips buck off the hood of the car as his teeth graze her nipple.
Vegeta looks up at her to see her watching him back, lip between her teeth. He grips her breast with his palm and his other hand lifts her dress up to her thigh. Her legs part for him as he teases his fingers toward her center, fingers dancing across her skin in a way that earns him a groan here and a positively sinful moan there.
“Vegeta,” Bulma sighs as he leans upward and nips her collarbone.
“Yes?” he growls in response, having long since left the sane part of him behind.
“Touch me,” she commands and pleads all at once. “I need-” her words are cut short by a sharp inhale as his fingers press against her through her panties.
“What was that?” He smirks, running his finger along the fabric. Shit, it’s already damp. He pauses for just long enough for her to get a sentence out.
“I need you to touch me,” she gasps. “More. Please.”
“Like this?” He runs two fingers down her alley, pressing the fabric against her.
She nods breathlessly, angling her hips toward him. “Yes, yes, just like that,” she moans. “Just like that.”
Paying no heed to the dirty ground, Vegeta kneels down and watches her expression as he kisses at the inside of her knee, fingers still pressed against her. His mouth ghosts up her leg, up the inside of her thigh, but before he meets his hand at her center, he moves to her other leg and repeats.
“Vegeta,” Bulma gasps. “Please.”
Vegeta presses his tongue to the damp fabric and laps upward, causing her to writhe beneath his ministrations. He hooks a finger inside the fabric of her underwear and pulls it aside to blow gently against her sensitive flesh. “Like this?”
“More,” she begs.
Without hesitation, Vegeta gently parts the tuft of blue hair that covers her clit and gives it an experimental lick. Bulma’s subsequent sigh urges him onward, and he tests different angles until he hits upon the one that makes her pull his hair and clamp her thighs around his face. He pulls away momentarily to lick his fingers before returning to the sensitive bundle of nerves. His index finger teases at her entrance, circling it and probing gently, discovering her responses and adjusting his methods accordingly.
Bulma’s hips buck forward, pushing his finger further inside of her. “Another one,” she gasps. “Tease me. Please.”
Vegeta is only too happy to follow her instructions, pressing another finger inside and savoring the way she throws her head back. A nagging voice in the back of his mind urges him to curl his fingers inside her, so he obliges. The resulting gasps and moans tell him he’s definitely on the right track. As her slickness guides his fingers in and out of her, he glances up at her expression. The pure pleasure evident on her face makes him so goddamned hard that he wishes he could just take her right here, right now.
He leans his face into her center and flicks her clit with his tongue, savoring the flavor that is uniquely Bulma. He twists his head to the right slightly and Bulma fists her hands in his hair again. That’s the spot.
“More, don’t stop,” Bulma gasps. “That’s it. Right there.” Her barely-coherent instructions impel Vegeta onward. He wants nothing more than to hear her pleasure every goddamn night of his life.
He grazes her with his teeth ever-so-gently and Bulma cries out before clamping a hand over her mouth. Briefly, he wonders if they should take this somewhere else so she can be as loud as she likes, but he’s pretty sure she’ll have his head on a pike if he stops now. He sucks her clit into his teeth, pulling and lapping at it with increasing gusto as she eggs him on.
Vegeta’s fingers tease and scissor inside of her dripping cunt, and if the way she’s whispering “fuck” over and over is any indication, she’s getting very close to coming. Vegeta never thought he’d be so lucky as to get off someone as beautiful as she, but being as turned on as he is, he doesn’t want to question the privilege.
“Oh, God, I’m gonna-” Bulma bites out, moments before her entire body tenses up and Vegeta feels her insides contracting rhythmically around his hand. She lets out a long, low groan; her hips vault upward and hold their position as she rides the waves of her orgasm before finally collapsing back against the hood of the car. She desperately pushes Vegeta’s head away from her over-sensitive clit and clamps her thighs shut around his hand, breathing heavily. After several moments, she opens her eyes and looks down at Vegeta with a crooked smile.
“Fuck,” she says, the very picture of articulation.
Finally, she opens her legs so that he can retrieve his hand. His other still strokes up and down his cock, which could really use the attention right about now. Bulma looks utterly devastated and his cock strains against his suit pants, begging for the same release bestowed upon her.
When she gathers the strength to sit up, she notices him palming himself and looking up at her from his spot on the ground.
“Let me help with that,” she whispers, drawing him to his feet. She unbuttons his pants and pulls his rock-hard erection free of his underwear. She fondles him tentatively at first, getting the feel in her hand for his swollen member, before stroking in earnest. Far too soon, he can feel the building heat pooling in his belly.
She licks her lips and prepares to lean down, but the very thought of her mouth on his cock brings Vegeta right to the edge.
“Bulma-” he chokes out, gripping her shoulder in warning.
And then she locks eyes with him and fucking squeezes. The resistance of the head of his cock pushing against the ring of her fingers proves to be too much, and in the moment that he finally pushes through, eyes still on hers, he comes. Hard. His hot seed spurts out onto the pavement and he groans, desperately thrusting against Bulma’s hand until he’s too spent to move. She continues stroking his cock as the last of his fluids dribble out and down his shaft.
Finally, she lets go and reaches daintily into her purse for a tissue, cleaning off her hand before handing it to him. He takes it and stares at it for a moment before his brain processes what it’s for. After cleaning himself up, he tucks himself back into his pants and zips them up. He looks up at Bulma and swallows hard. Though it’s hard to see in the low light, Vegeta thinks he can detect a hint of a delightful flush on her cheeks.
Well, that happened.
There’s no going back now.