Disclaimer: I am far too lazy to come up with quite a complex series such as Dragon ball Z. I don't own it, nor do I wish I owned it, because that sounds like a lot of work...

Summary: 31 drabbles about Goten and Trunks' winter as a couple.

Word count: 1164

Rated M for language, sexual scenes, etc.

Our First December

Drabble #24- Mistletoe (Revised)

"So, what did you get?" Goten asked as he lifted his legs onto Trunks' lap.

Trunks pushed the legs back down. "Some clothes, a new car, shoes, stuff to put in my dorm. I wish you had seen it: Bra literally jumped and screamed for like five minutes straight over that Barbie doll with the topaz-studded dress I bought her."

Goten chuckled and lifted his legs onto Trunks' lap again. "You spoil her."

Trunks sighs and leaves the invading legs where they are. "I can't help it. I don't know why; the brat doesn't even deserve it."

Goten hums and nods, even though he knows that Trunks is lying through his teeth.

The Briefs had done their gift-opening earlier today, even though it was Christmas Eve, not actually Christmas day. Apparently Bulma had to leave for an important business trip in Brazil tonight, and thus wouldn't be available tomorrow. Goten thinks he would be utterly distraught if he couldn't see him mother on Christmas of all days. Neither Trunks nor his sister seemed to mind however, claiming they were used to it.

Goten keeps the thought to himself, but he thinks it's a sad thing to be "used to".

Goten leans back against the couch and regards the party Bulma threw despite the busy night ahead of her. There were people here that he didn't know—Bulma's non-z-fighter friends—but most of them he did. His family was scattered all over: his brother chatting in a corner with Piccolo, Videl and Pan playing a card game with Bra, his mother stuck in a rather one-sided conversation with Master Roshi, his father eyeing the tray of gingerbread cookies next to him.

It was an overall good night, but Goten figured that it would be better with more activity.

"Hey, dance with me," Goten says.

Trunks gives him a side look. "No."

Goten jostles his shoulder, and pouts. "Why? Because we're around friends and family?"

"Yes, that's exactly why."

Goten rolls his eyes, but smiles. "You need to loosen up." He stretches back to grab the last glass of what he assumes is champagne off of an end table. He holds it out to Trunks.

Trunks takes it with an arched brow. Goten nods, and braces his hands behind his head.

Trunks gives him another look, before he brings the glass to his lips. He almost has the contents tipped into his mouth when the glass is delicately plucked from his fingers.

"Hey-! Mom! I'm legal!" Trunks protests.

Bulma glances at him over her shoulder. "Trunks, as far as I am concerned, you are still my six-year old little boy who wears Iron Man pajamas to bed every night. Six-year olds don't drink alcohol, sweetie." She smiles, puckers her lips in an air-kiss, and walks off.

"Six-year olds also don't drive cars, go to college on the other side of the world, engage in gay sex, or buy topaz-studded Barbie dolls for their bratty little sisters," Trunks mutters. Goten bites back his smile but his shoulders still shake with involuntary giggles.

Trunks throws Goten's legs off his lap and turns to him with a look of utter determination on his face. "Get me another one."

Goten looks back at the end table. "There aren't any more."

"Go find me one! I can't try and sneak a drink at my own house party. That's so lame."

"Yes, of course, a classy bitch like you could never." Goten snickers at Trunks' glare. "Okay, okay, I'm going."

Hopping from the seat, he darts his eyes back in forth in search of glasses filled with golden or amber liquid. It doesn't take him long to find a table a few paces over with a row of glasses covering the entirety of it. He also notices that right next to the table is Vegeta, standing alone with his arms crossed over his chest in their usual irritated fashion.

Confidently, Goten walks over. His movement captures Vegeta's attention, but the Son remains undeterred. It only takes him a few steps to get there, and once he does, he leans back against the wall the same way the older man does.

"This is a nice party, huh?" Goten speaks conversationally.

Vegeta does some kind of half-grunt in reply.

Goten drums his fingers against his thigh. "I heard you helped decorate the house for the party."

Vegeta grunts, but it comes out sounding like, "Bah."

Naturally, Goten can't help but say, "Humbag," and snicker.

Vegeta shoots him a side glare, obviously not familiar with the reference, but still understanding that he had been made fun of.

Goten turns to face the prince. He leans his shoulder against the wall, and smiles. He's not normally so bold with Vegeta, but he knows he wouldn't actually try to kill him with so many witnesses around. Probably. "You know, every time I'm around you, I always get this bad vibe—like you want to punch me or something."

He thinks he sees a hint of a smirk. "How observant."

Goten is going to reply, when he hears a long, dragged out, 'oooh.'

He looks over, and sees the other z-fighters watching him with wide-eyes. Goten isn't a complete idiot, and even without looking up, can he tell he's standing under mistletoe.

Maybe it's the festivities, maybe it's because he made out with Trunks two hours prior, maybe it's because Goten lost the only two brain cells he had left on the way over here, but whatever it was must have given him the strength to do what he does next.

He bends at the waist and connects his lips to Vegeta's cheek in a quick, loud peck.

The man whips around, and if it was any other situation Goten would have laughed at the utterly flabbergasted look on his face. The look only stays for a second, however, and now Goten thinks he just might be seeing his imminent death playing out through Vegeta's eyes.

"Frick," Goten says as he stumbles back. He kind of wants to giggle nervously, like any person would do in an awkward situation. Mostly he wants to cry.

When he steps back again he bumps into Trunks, and immediately scurries behind him.

Goten ignores the laughter he hears around him as he tightens his desperate hold on the back of the other boy's shirt. "Trunks, please, you have to help me."

Trunks only sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "And yet you wonder why my father doesn't like you."

Goten used Trunks as his human shield for only a few more seconds, when he decided that the best course of action would be to remove himself from the surrounding area entirely. The rest of his night was spent this way: hiding in places he hasn't been able to fit in since his childhood, and looking out for murderous dark eyes that may or may not be lurking around the corner.

On the bright side: Trunks eventually did get his champagne.

End