Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or the characters
Okay, so I attempted to write this last year. A friend of mine, dragoscilvio, had given me the idea a really long time ago, something to the effect of Vegeta finding a particular outfit. I had started working on this last Holy Thursday. This year, I'm starting the Wednesday before Easter. Let's see if I can actually get this done this time!
And shout out, once again, to GoodEnoughTheOpenDoor (LacieRhea on DeviantArt) for the cover art for this series!
Vegeta had just finished his training for the day and thought it best to grab a shower before guests arrived. Trunks was out with Goten for the time being, but would be back soon, as would Bra who was out shopping with her grandmother for a dress. Vegeta had been with Bra and Bulma on shopping excursions before, and he was glad that today it wasn't his responsibility. Unlike Bulma, Bra could go overboard.
Sometimes he wondered why Bulma's family hosted holiday events at their own home and not elsewhere, but he figured it was easier for them to not have to go elsewhere. Still, Vegeta hated having hundreds of people he didn't know in his home, but he figured there was still some residual hesitance from back in the day. After his nearly two decades of living on Earth, he was fairly certain there wouldn't be any assassination attempts. Besides, even if anyone was foolish enough to attack, he was faster and stronger than an ordinary Earthling and could prevent any damage.
His stomach rumbling alerted him to the fact that he was hungry and had had a successful training session. He quickly moved to the closet, clad in towel, attempting to find something to wear until he had to get changed again for the accursed banquet. Despite how long he had been living at Capsule Corp. and married to Bulma, they usually kept their clothes separate. In recent years, Bulma pointed out that it was ridiculous for him to have to go to his old room and shower and change when her closet was big enough for the both of them. He agreed, yet he hadn't deemed it an important subject to broach.
It had been a recent development, and Vegeta still hardly ever went into the large, walk-in closet considering many of his training clothes were in a dresser drawer. He had only been in there a handful of times, yet he never walked fully in. Something about a closet being the size of another room, albeit a small room, was unsettling.
Today, he needed to make an exception. Bulma didn't expect him to dress up, but she still wanted him to wear decent clothes. Trunks had tried to get out of wearing a dress shirt and slacks, to wear a simple long-sleeved shirt instead, like his father, but Bulma had shot Trunks down on that. He was the future of the company, so he needed to get used to playing the part. In all fairness, Vegeta vaguely remembered a time where he had to do something similar back on his own planet. He had needed to wear something specific for royal events, and that did not include his usual spandex and training armor. His father had said something similar to Bulma—that he needed to perform his duties.
Because of this, for the first time in all of the years he spent on Earth, Vegeta requested Bulma get him clothes like Trunks. She had been stunned by such a request, but she had simply chimed "no backsies" causing Vegeta to roll his eyes. He honestly expected her to go overboard. When she had returned from shopping, she had assured him that he would be comfortable. He didn't know whether or not to trust her…
Now, here he was in Bulma's walk-in looking for the detestable outfit. The woman had told him it would be in there since it couldn't get wrinkled. Vegeta didn't know what the term meant for it translated to nothing in his mind. Bulma had said something like "messy." His brow had raised in confusion. Wasn't Bulma's lab messy? What did that have to do with clothes? He decided to leave that well enough alone.
He would have thought it would be easy to spot the suit since he hardly had anything in the closet save his armor. Of course, he couldn't be so lucky. Bulma had so many outfits that he'd have to search through each individual article just to find it. For someone who kept such a messy lab, the closet was fairly organized, everything together by color. He decided to go look toward the back where the neutral colors were, heading straight for the blacks. If he remembered correctly, most suits were black…or was that only for those blasted tuxedos? In any case, it was a start, so Vegeta started sifting.
While looking through the clothes, his eyes widened at the sight of a particular article of clothing he had never seen in all his years of knowing the woman. It was hardly what Vegeta would call a proper garment, almost like those leotards that Bra wore for gymnastics. Stranger still, there was a white ball of fluff that almost looked like a rabbit's tail. To prove that point to Vegeta, he found the matching, black bunny ears on the floor beneath the outfit.
He was so shocked by the clothing, or lack thereof, that he didn't even sense his wife entering the closet. "Oh, there you are, hun," she greeted warmly. "I wanted you to know that your suit's being steamed in the bathroom and…what are you doing?"
Vegeta glanced over at the woman in alarm as if he had been caught doing something indecent. She was grinning until she saw what he stumbled across. In fact, she looked completely horrified. "How did you find that?"
Her nerves caused a smirk to grace Vegeta's features, excitement returning. Bulma looked completely red, and that alone was enjoyable. It took quite a lot to get his woman flustered. "Me? I was simply looking for the suit. I never expected to find such an interesting article of clothing. Care to explain, woman?"
"Y-You," she stuttered, another big victory for the Saiyan. "Th-That's nothing. Just something from back in the day."
"You actually wore this?" Vegeta teased. "That's very naughty of you."
"It's not like I wore it more than once," Bulma hissed at him before regaining her composure. "You know what, I don't have to explain myself to you. That was a million years ago, and why I wore it has nothing to do with anything."
Bulma was about to leave the closet, but Vegeta wasn't planning on letting her win this figurative battle. "I want to see you in it."
That made Bulma freeze in place. "W-What..?"
His lips curved into a feral grin, the Saiyan taking a step each time he spoke. "I want," he said, voice low, "to see you..." He was behind her now, hands on her hips. "In it."
Bulma trembled as his thumbs pressed into her sides, but she was not going to let him win. "No time," she spoke, her voice airy. "I need to start making the carrot cakes for tonight's gathering."
Vegeta chuckled, moving his mouth to the crux of her neck. "It's the privacy of our own kitchen," he breathed against her skin. He could feel her losing the fight. "You could wear it while you baked."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you," the woman deadpanned. "But I get nothing out of it. Besides, I fit into that thing when I was a teenager. I'm a grown woman who has bared you two children. That outfit could only make me feel worse about my current figure."
Vegeta frowned at that. It was not the first time Bulma made a comment about her "figure" since Bra was born and since she was aging. She was still beautiful, and she looked no different to him than the first time they had given into passion. When she made these remarks, she seemed so saddened. He thought it best not to respond to her self-taunting. Instead, he tried a different route that would be equally pleasing to his woman. "I could help you," his gruff voice rumbled, tantalizing Bulma. "I can join you in the kitchen, assist with the baking, and you could decide what I wear."
Bulma's body twitched in response before she laughed and wrapped her arms around his. "You're being weird," she pointed out, "but I like it. Just know that you asked for this, and I'm making it twice as embarrassing as that stupid bunny outfit."
"Sounds fair," the prince retorted, his voice normal yet cocky. "So, what do you have in mind?"
"Oh," Bulma replied, clicking her tongue. "You'll see. I have just the thing."
Bulma couldn't believe she was actually wearing this outfit again, not to mention that she actually fit. It didn't look the same as it did when she was younger, but it was not nearly as terrible as she thought it would be. That wasn't the only thing that had Bulma stunned. In the kitchen, preparing the ingredients, was her husband wearing his usual spandex, though shirtless, wearing her pink "Kiss the Cook" apron. Vegeta had met her challenge, and she had not trusted he'd come through. She didn't get his angle, not one bit, but there was little time to linger. They had some cakes to make.
The aura in the kitchen felt different than any other time. Sure, they had had many competitions, put others on hold, and just had family fun time. It had been a long time since it was just them in competition with the other, and now it still seemed like there was no competition. Both the Saiyan and Earthling were simply mixing ingredients in bowls to make the cake batter, avoiding the cinnamon for Bra, and then adding carrots which Vegeta had cut with disturbing fascination. Bulma couldn't help but wonder, as she saw her husband smirk, if he was picturing his rival, her childhood friend. After all, his name did sound a lot like carrot. Bulma had to hide a chuckle and focused on admiring the view of her man's rippling muscles covered by her dainty apron. He was still as toned and sexy as ever. She wondered if he felt the same towards her. If his display earlier was any indication, she knew she was being silly and needlessly insecure.
Everything went off without a hitch, the batter making it into the pans and baking, though Bulma was busy making the icing. Unbeknownst to her, there had been a bit of batter that had been flicked on the back of her neck, and a hungry Saiyan had spotted it. Bulma's breath hitched as her prince practically devoured her neck right before crashing his lips to hers. His intensity and lust came out of nowhere, but Bulma was more than ready to get into the mood Vegeta was setting. "Mine," he whispered huskily as he pulled away for only a moment. Bulma had hardly a chance to counter.
Trunks entered the house after spending the day with Goten, Mai, and Marron. It had been a beautiful day to be outside, and of course Pan and Bra had shown up to join the teenagers. They had all had their fun, but it was time to head home. After all, there was a party he and Bra needed to attend. Hopefully, it wouldn't be so bad.
When the brother and sister duo entered their home, their noses were immediately met with the scent of baked goods, and both Saiyans were ready to eat. Their stomachs rumbled making Trunks laugh. He knew they were going to the party soon, so they'd have plenty of food, but he figured his parents wouldn't mind giving them a pre-party snack. "Let's go, princess," Trunks chuckled, picking up his younger sister. He couldn't believe how tall she had gotten since his last visit home.
Upon reaching the kitchen, though, there was something suspect, mainly the sound of timers going off and his parents being frantic saying certain things that made even Trunks gawp. "You might want to watch where you put that thing," he heard his father say before a pan clattered to the floor.
"Oh!" his mother shouted in frustration. "This is your fault. You're the one who made me wear this."
"And you wanted me to wear…what did the boy call it…a monkey suit?"
"That's not what it's called, and that's way different than this!"
"Yes, now, get your fluffy tail over here and shut up."
Trunks paled. They really shouldn't be listening to this, but if he made any sudden moves his father would sense his energy spike and know that they were there. "Why don't you make m-?"
Bra pushed the doors open at the moment, Trunks immediately covering her eyes to protect her from seeing their parents in a compromising position. Neither the Saiyan Prince nor their mother saw them, which was perfect for Trunks, but he would never be able to unsee what he had just seen. He took his sister and slowly put distance between them and the kitchen. "Trunks, what are you doing? I can't see anything," the young princess complained. "And I'm hungry."
"Trust me, Bra," he spoke. "You don't need to see anything. We didn't need to eat right now, anyway. You've gotta get into that new dress, don't you?"
"But Trunks…" Bra whined, but he had already shoved the child in her room before going to his own. He would have to tell someone to install a lot on that kitchen door.
A couple hours passed, and the family was sitting at their table in the large dining hall. Bra was busy eating her dessert while Bulma was off speaking with various business partners. Trunks decided to hang back with his father and sister feeling the need to be antisocial. He had had a long day, and the earlier scene in kitchen had practically scarred him. "Something the matter, boy?" Vegeta asked making Trunks tense. "You've hardly touched your food."
"I'm fine," Trunks chirped. "Anyway, I'm surprised you came. I wanted to thank you. I know you're only here because of my argument with mom. You didn't have to dress up like me."
"Hn," the Saiyan prince responded. "Someone has to set an example. This is your birthright, and you have a part to play."
Trunks grinned at that, knowing his father understood in a way most wouldn't. Still, it meant a lot to him that his father had made this sacrifice. "Uh, so about earlier…" Vegeta's brow raised in confusion, and Trunks was thankful when Bra ran off to go play with some other workers' kids. "I think maybe we should tell Grandma and Grandpa to add a lock to the kitchen door."
Vegeta immediately gathered what Trunks was saying, blushing as he chuckled. Yes, many had barged in whenever they baked, and usually it left everyone staring at each other in confusion. Of course, today was the first time they actually needed a lock for anything, but perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea. "I'll bring it up to your mother."
"That would probably be best," Trunks agreed. "Now, I think my appetite's returning."
The older prince rolled his eyes at his son, but he wore a fond smile. He had grown to care deeply for all that he had—his wife, his children, the planet, a home—and all of the shameful, whacky actions he was willing to perform to either protect them or give them an emotional boost came to mind. His eyes met his wife's from across the room, her blue orbs looking lighter and more confident than they had in a long time. He smirked at her. As long as those actions were fruitful, he'd humiliate himself again and again, just to see that look of adoration.
A/N: Well, I actually did it this year, and I'm surprised. I'm not sure if I like how it turned out, but maybe you'll all enjoy it. It was definitely way different from other baking one-shots, and we'll see where I go from here. I'm not sure how many more I have left, but who knows. It was still kind of fun to write. Anyway, hope you all enjoy. Have a Happy Easter, and Happy Belated Passover.