Chapter Text
Piccolo wished his drunken mouth had never opened. His blush had become so deep that it was like the base color of his skin, with perhaps a tiny bit of green peeking through the purple.
Vegeta, who was maybe as drunk as Piccolo, gawked. He slurred, “Never? You…you’ve never? With anyone?”
“Shut up! Who would I sleep with, V?” Piccolo squawked and shoved Vegeta’s shoulder. The smaller man fell off his barstool. Definitely as drunk as Piccolo.
He scrabbled back up and the fact that he didn’t punch Piccolo in the nose also indicated that Vegeta had reached the emotional, squishy phase of drunkenness. The Super-Sad-Saiyan as Piccolo referred to it in his secret heart because it usually ended with Vegeta crying and slumping against Piccolo saying he was just so glad he had a friend, a true friend. Then there would be a week or two of Vegeta completely ignoring Piccolo. Vegeta’s eyes were huge and he whispered, “Why not?”
“Who would I have sex with, Vegeta?” Piccolo grumbled. He might end up being the weepy drunk tonight. How had this even come up? Stupid alcohol. “I wouldn’t even know what to do. I’m not built like humans, I don’t think.”
“What do you mean you don’t know what to do?” Vegeta clutched at Piccolo’s arm like he’d just admitted that he couldn’t drink water or walk down a flight of stairs, like sex was so basic it was physically painful for Vegeta to contemplate Piccolo's ignorance. Maybe the little Saiyan would be weeping yet. “This is unacceptable.”
Piccolo downed the rest of his rum and coke. “I’m not…I’m not just going to go get laid flying blind! I would make an ass of myself.” He’d lost count of how many drinks he'd had. It was always rum and coke nights that culminated in complete stupidity, emotional or otherwise. Once he and Vegeta bought an RV while they were really drunk. Bulma sold it for them when it became apparent neither could competently drive it.
Vegeta’s mind whirred so loudly that Piccolo said, “Stop. Just stop. I’m not going to fuck anyone tonight. There’s no amount of alcohol that would make that happen.”
Smoke and sparks came out of Vegeta’s ears. Piccolo’s eyes widened because a different thought occurred to him. Vegeta swung to meet his eyes. Piccolo’s mouth, against all sense and propriety and shame, said, “Could…Could I watch you and Goku? You know, to, um, to learn?”
The smirk that Piccolo thought only belonged to Majin Vegeta appeared on not-Majin Vegeta’s face. Which, incidentally, was how Goku and Vegeta first got together. Vegeta was many things when drunk, but discreet was not one of them. He had spilled his guts to Piccolo and Piccolo, being a friend to both Bulma and Vegeta, had helped them navigate the infidelity and the aftermath, when Vegeta pleaded with Bulma to stay with him. To allow them to have an open marriage if Vegeta was upfront and honest. Bulma, being a saint, forgave Vegeta, and Vegeta and Goku had been a thing ever since. As far as Piccolo knew, there had never been any other polyamorous forays for Vegeta.
Vegeta purred, “And the truth comes out. You just want to watch me rail Kakarot, don’t you?”
“I-I-I don’t know! How could I possibly want to watch you two if I don't even know what exactly you'd be doing?” Piccolo hissed.
“Well, if you really just wanted to know how it’s done, you could just study your porn more carefully. So you must want to watch us in particular.”
“What’s porn?” Piccolo said, blinking and feeling like an especially slow child.
“Are you serious?” Vegeta said. The Majin-smirk was gone. Now it was all pity, which made Piccolo cringe. He would use the damn dragon balls to erase this horror from Vegeta’s memory. And his own, while he was at it.
But Drunk Piccolo was also Honest Piccolo. “Yup. No idea what that is.”
Vegeta stood, puffing out his chest, and his thumbs fumbled across his phone screen. “Let’s go.”
“What? Where?” Piccolo said, but he was on his feet, awash in excitement and terror.
“Class is about to be in session. Your prince will teach you many things,” Vegeta said, Majin-smirking up at Piccolo as he shoved him out of the bar after throwing an absurd wad of cash on the bar.
Piccolo screamed when Goku popped into existence next to them on the sidewalk, blushing so red it showed even in the gauzy light of the street lamps. “Oh, uh, hey guys. I wish you’d let me drink with you on guys' night. I’m a guy too, you know!”
“Kakarot, I like to talk shit about you to my best friend, and I can’t very well do that if you’re there,” Vegeta cooed like it was the sweetest thing in the world.
Goku’s face seemed to reflect that belief. “Oh yeah? You like to talk to Picc about me?”
“Indeed. About how perfect your ass is. How delicious your prick is. How sweetly you moan for me when I fuck you rough.”
A twisting heat coiled up in Piccolo’s belly at those words. He couldn’t believe they were maybe going to do what Vegeta was acting like they were going to do. “He…He doesn’t really, Goku. He’s pretty drunk. I just said some stupid shit. You guys go have fun, I’ll see you when we spar this week—”
“Oh no you don’t, Namek. Now that I know what depravity goes on in that pretty bald skull, you won’t slink away so easily. Let’s go get a hotel room, hmmm, pet?” Vegeta said and caressed Goku’s jaw.
Goku leaned into it like a cat. “Yeah, sure, ‘Geetie, anything you want. If, if you’re sure…you’re sure it’s okay. You sure, Picc?”
“Are you guys for real right now?” Piccolo whispered. “Like…Like you’d just let me watch?”
“I dunno, it seems a little…a little…um…” Goku trailed off and scratched the back of his neck. “What do you think, ‘Geetie? You’re not serious, are you?”
Piccolo’s eyes slid to the smaller Saiyan. He held his breath. He wanted to watch. Yet he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to look either of them in the eye again if he watched them. His imagination was already in overdrive, mentally peeling their clothes off and seeing the bits and pieces barely concealed when battles went long and outfits got destroyed. He had wondered about Goku’s ass in the past because Vegeta’s ass was so perky and perfect and palmable that he suspected Goku’s was just a plumper version. Saiyan genetics were unfair from what Piccolo had seen. He blushed even more wondering if either Saiyan had ever contemplated his ass. He shook his head. Definitely not.
Vegeta circled Goku like a predator, trailing a finger along the line of his shoulders, his jaw, and down his throat to the split in his pecs. “I am very serious, Kakarot. You don’t want to let down a friend, do you? I know how you feel about friendship.”
“What, you…you mean Picc?”
“Indeed. He’s never had sex, Kakarot. He’s never even seen sex. He’s more naïve than you were that first time. Don’t you think it’s our duty to show him? To teach him how to do it properly?”
That pathetic fact, which Piccolo wished Vegeta hadn’t aired so casually, seemed to sway the larger Saiyan. Piccolo could have just as easily had a whole litter of dead puppies in his arms from Goku’s expression. “Oh no! Piccolo, you’ve never even watched porn? Oh gosh!”
“What the fuck is porn!?” Piccolo growled. “Look, if we’re actually gonna do this, can we just go before my rum wears off?” His heart scampered around in his chest, making it hard to breathe.
Goku got that look he got when someone had just murdered a friend, and maybe having zero knowledge of fucking was the equivalent of having died a tragic death for these two horny idiots. “We have to now, ‘Geetie. Sex is the only thing better than sparring, Picc,” he said.
Piccolo laughed, assuming that Goku was making a joke. Sparring was the only thing that mattered to Goku. But when he didn’t join Piccolo’s mirth, Piccolo’s mouth fell open. “Are…are you serious?”
“Sex with ‘Geetie, anyway.”
“Tch, sex with me is better than anything. Let’s go, pet. Let’s go show the Namek how it’s done,” Vegeta said and to Piccolo’s surprise and delight, he took Goku’s hand and set off toward a cluster of high-rise hotels. That affectionate act was titillating on its own.
Vegeta years and years after learning almost his entire race was dead, was still the Prince of All Saiyans, so of course he got the penthouse suite to exhibitionist fuck. By the time they stepped into the special elevator that went to the top floor, Piccolo was sweating. Vegeta slammed Goku against the wall of the elevator and raked his hand up and down the front of Goku’s jeans. “You’re going to give the Namek a good show, aren’t you, pet?”
“I don’t know, my prince, I don’t know if I can behave with someone watchin’ us. I might get a little jealous that he gets to see you. That he gets to see your royal cock,” Goku said, his breath coming in big heaving gasps.
Vegeta delved inside his jeans, low, back between his legs, and Goku whimpered. Vegeta said, “You naughty thing. I knew you’d do something like this, and you’ll have to be punished.”
Piccolo had no idea what was happening besides maybe a special Saiyan form of foreplay, but his body didn’t care. His body was already hot and jittery and everything south of his waist felt like it was turning to lava. The ding of the elevator reaching the top floor made Piccolo jump.
Vegeta swung his head toward Piccolo and the smirk was something even more devilish than the Majin smirk. “Come see how it’s done, Namek.”
Inside the elegant room, Vegeta dragged a deep, plush armchair toward the bed. He positioned it off one corner at the foot of the bed. He shoved Piccolo into it. “You move it as it suits you. Watch and learn from the best.”
Then the little prince turned all his attention to Goku. “Take your clothes off, pet. Slowly. And make sure the Namek has a good view.”
Goku crawled obediently onto the bed, facing Piccolo, but peeked over his shoulder at Vegeta who stood behind him so he could see Piccolo too. Goku said, “And if I don’t obey my prince?”
Vegeta was on Goku in a heartbeat, yanking his arms back in a one-armed pin. He pulled him upright onto his knees. He unbuttoned Goku’s shirt as he nipped down the big man’s neck. “You will be punished.” He tugged Goku’s shirt free of his jeans then paused to slip his free hand inside the waist again. He moved his hand up and down the hard outline of Goku’s cock.
Piccolo swallowed the saliva that built up in his mouth. The arousal. The hunger. Gods. He hadn’t ever really thought about Goku in an explicitly sexual way, but it was hot watching Vegeta dominate him. Piccolo shifted in his seat to splay his legs wider. His own jeans felt tight and uncomfortable, but he resisted the urge to touch the apex of his thighs or adjust himself.
Vegeta’s eyes hit his and he smirked at Piccolo as he dragged his tongue up to Goku’s ear and nibbled it. “You’re so hard for me already, Kakarot. You’re so needy. I bet I could get you off without even unbuttoning your jeans.”
“Please, please, ‘Geetie. I want to last when you fuck me, get me off first.”
“Mmm…We’ll see. So far you’ve been too disobedient. I’m having to undress you myself,” Vegeta growled. He eased his hand out of Goku’s pants and dragged it up to the bigger man’s pec. A trail of pre-cum glistened in its wake. Vegeta swirled the wet tip of his finger around Goku’s nipple. “You’re so ready your cock is almost as wet as a pussy, Kakarot. I better get it out or your jeans will get soaked.”
The word soaked made Piccolo suck in a sharp breath. He wanted to see. He’d seen both Vegeta and Goku’s cocks before when they’d swum in the river after sparring, but never hard. Never soaked. He couldn’t even imagine what Vegeta meant because they weren’t like Piccolo. Piccolo resisted the urge to squirm in his chair, but he helplessly bit his lower lip.
Vegeta shifted and ground his hips against Goku’s ass until Goku was panting and pleading, “Please, my prince, please!”
The smaller man let his hand drift back down to Goku’s fly with agonizing slowness, still with Goku’s arms pinned at what looked like an uncomfortable angle, but Piccolo suspected that was part of the appeal. The button popped open and Vegeta unzipped Goku. “Oh, pet, you’ve made me do so much work that I told you to do, I’m not sure I can get you off before I fuck you. I think you’ll have to wait.”
Piccolo wondered what the rules were for their little educational session. He wanted to take his own shirt off because he was sweating like crazy, but he wasn’t sure how Vegeta would feel about that. He felt pretty confident that Goku would let Vegeta be in charge on that front, but maybe not. Goku was probably pretty scary if he got jealous or possessive.
Yet Vegeta stared into Piccolo’s eyes as he shoved Goku’s jeans down around his thighs, revealing tight orange boxer-briefs. There was a damp spot at the end of Goku’s cock, growing visibly as Vegeta hummed against Goku’s ear and rolled his hips. “Your ass, pet, is so perfect.” Vegeta yanked on Goku’s arms to hold him in place to grind against him.
“‘Geetie, if I’m good and take my clothes off, will you touch me more?”
“We’ll have to see if you behave, if you put on a show like I commanded,” Vegeta growled and gave Goku’s prick a quick squeeze through his boxers. He released Goku, but cupped each pec, pinching his nipples. It made it impossible for Goku to get his shirt off and Piccolo saw some weird chimera of panic and pleasure cross his features. He shimmied out of his jeans in the meantime, and then Vegeta dragged his hands down Goku’s arms, taking the shirt with him. “Ah, ah, ah, making me do all the work, pet.” He slapped Goku’s ass and gripped it, jiggled it. He held both cheeks tight and used them to rub on his own cock, now visibly hard inside his slacks.
Piccolo let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He absently unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt even though Vegeta was staring right at him. The smirk returned and the smaller Saiyan purred, “Look, pet, you’re making the Namek sweat. And he hasn’t even seen your cock yet.”
Piccolo wished he had another rum and coke, but there was nothing in the universe that would make him disrupt what was happening. He sat back, ready to watch and learn.