Written for spiritbathbomb/Momo in a gift exchange over on AO3. She asked for a scene from the sugar daddy AU she came up with and we talked about in the group chat. And uh. I have already written a sequel? And I sort of want to write more for this universe/scenario because you can't stop me I'm an adult.

Thank you for reading; I hope you enjoy it! I'm always open to feedback if you have any.

Warnings: NSFW, panty kink, Tien being terrible

Come over tonight. 5 o'clock. Wear these.

Yamcha stared at the note that had come in his package from Tien. He wasn't serious. He couldn't be. There was no way he expected Yamcha to wear this.

He carefully extracted the other part of Tien's "gift" from its box, holding it gingerly between his thumb and forefinger at arm's length. Panties. Tien wanted him to wear lacy red panties. Oh, Kami. This was how it started. First he'd ask Yamcha to wear the panties—then later that night he'd ask him to take them off. He hadn't taken Tien for a panty fetishist.

Was Yamcha ready for this? He'd only just agreed to do favours for Tien in exchange for rent money a week ago. He knew that sexual favours would be part of that, had brought it up himself when they were hashing out the details of the agreement. But this was the first time Tien had asked for anything sexual. On the one hand, Yamcha was glad he'd had time to prepare himself for sex with his best friend. But on the other…he still wasn't as ready as he'd like to be.

They were nice panties, though. He wondered how they'd feel when he wore them.

"So what'd he send?"

Yamcha scrambled to hide the panties when Puar stuck her head into the room. "J-just—nothing!" he stammered. He could feel his face turning ad red as the panties. "New mittens!"

She beamed. "Oh, that's so nice! He's always giving you presents; maybe this sugar daddy thing isn't so bad after all!"

"Please stop calling him that," Yamcha groaned. "This whole thing is weird enough without the sugar daddy label."

"You do favours for him in exchange for money and expensive gifts." Puar shrugged. "What else would you call him?"

"Look, in any case, I'm going to Tien's for around five." Yamcha curled a finger in his hair. "So I won't be making dinner tonight. Sorry."

She shrugged. "That's okay! Have fun!" With a wink, she disappeared back into the living room.

He turned back to the package. He was really going to wear lacy red panties so his best friend would pay his rent. There went any shred of dignity Yamcha had left.

The lace felt strange.

Yamcha shifted subtly in his seat. Tien sat across the table from him, eating the supper Yamcha had made and listening to Chiaotzu tell them the news from their neighbors. Yamcha tried to pay attention, but he was distracted. His pants were thick and baggy enough that the panties didn't show through, so unless they saw them no one would ever know they were there. But Yamcha knew, and Tien knew. They were the only people in the world who knew that Yamcha was wearing sexy, lacy lingerie. Yamcha had never really understood the appeal of wearing lingerie as everyday underwear, but he was starting to. The secrecy of the whole thing thrilled him.

Tien caught his eye and winked. Yamcha swallowed and shoved more tenshindon in his mouth.

"Don't be shy, now."

Tien gripped Yamcha's shoulders firmly, a smirk tilting his mouth up. "You'd think you'd never done this before."

Yamcha squirmed and looked down. "It's different with you. I mean…I've never done this with a guy before, and you're paying me for it…"

"Hey, don't worry." Tien leaned forward and rested his forehead against Yamcha's. "I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to. But I want this, want you, Yamcha, and from the looks you were giving me over dinner tonight I'd say you want me, too."

Yamcha looked up at him. Did he want this? Did he really?

Well, he couldn't deny that it felt nice to be pampered a little. So what if it was Tien doing the pampering? He hadn't had any release in a while. He bit his lip and nodded. "Okay. But if I say stop, we're stopping, got that?"

Tien's grin turned predatory. "Don't you worry about that. I'll have you begging for more." Before Yamcha could even blush properly, Tien was kissing him. Forcefully. On the lips. Now Yamcha was blushing properly.

For all his talk, Tien wasn't actually all that skilled a kisser. He was sloppy and uncoordinated, but eager. He held Yamcha's face in both hands and kissed him with the earnestness of someone confessing their love for the first time. It wasn't a long kiss, just long enough to steal Yamcha's breath away. Tien pulled back and dug a finger under the collar of Yamcha's shirt. "Take this off. Actually, take it all off and lie down on the bed."

Yamcha gulped and struggled to comply. He'd taken this shirt off a million and one times, but suddenly getting its clasps undone seemed like a daunting, impossible task. His fingers fumbled and slipped and by the time he got his shirt undone he felt like the least graceful man in the world, but Tien was sitting on the edge of the bed, clearly enjoying the show. Yamcha gave him a quick glance up and down, squared his shoulders, and slipped out of his shirt in one movement, dropping it on the floor behind him. Tien sat up a little straighter, eyebrows raised and a light flush to his cheeks. Good. If Yamcha was going to do something like this, he was going to do it right.

Next came his pants. Yamcha's hands slid under the waistband, brushing the edge of the panties. He slowly slid them down his hips, revealing his body inch by inch. Tien spread his legs a little wider and licked his lips. Yamcha faltered. Oh, gods, Tien was really getting off to this. He yanked his pants all the way to the floor and kicked them into a corner. As far as he was concerned, the striptease was over. He just wanted to get the whole thing done and over with as soon as possible.

"Wait," Tien said when Yamcha hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his lingerie. "Not those." He stood and gestured to the bed. "Lie down."

Yamcha stalled. He looked at Tien, then at the bed. He wasn't nervous. There was no reason to be nervous. It was just sex, after all, even if it was with Tien.

He made his way to the bed and crawled onto the mattress. There was a hand on his ass almost immediately, and he glared over his shoulder at Tien. "Hands off the merchandise."

Tien grinned and squeezed. "You know, I wasn't sure about these when I bought them." He gave him a little pat before moving his hand away. "But now that I see you in them, I think I made the right choice."

Yamcha settled back among the firm pillows. He watched Tien's eyes trail up his body hungrily, stopping at his groin. "You just gonna look at me all night?" he asked. "Or were we gonna have sex?"

"Hey, let a guy look." Tien knelt next to him on the bed. "How do they feel?" He hooked a finger under the waistband. "You look fantastic."

"It's a little weird." Yamcha squirmed, eyes fixed on Tien's finger as it ran around the edge of the waistband. "But I think I could get used to them."

"Good. I want you to wear things like this more often." He licked his lips. "Especially if you know we're going to see each other."

"I can do—" Yamcha cut himself off with a gasp as Tien suddenly palmed him through the underwear. Oh, it really had been a long time since someone else touched him like this. Tien's hand gently fondled, teasing him and leaving him gasping and thrusting his hips up.

"What was that?" Tien said innocently. "You shouldn't start a sentence you can't finish, you know."

Yamcha glared at him, but he could tell it was dulled with lust. "Fuck you."

Tien grinned. "We could do that later, if you'd like." His hand dipped lower to play with Yamcha's balls. Yamcha tried and failed to not think about Tien on his back and spread open for him, or of Yamcha bouncing on Tien's lap, throwing his head back and crying his pleasure to the heavens. It was more enticing than he'd thought and he nodded, trying not to seem too enthusiastic. "Maybe another time, then." The hand went away and Yamcha relaxed the death grip he had on the sheets. This was bad. He was already pretty far gone, cock straining against the lace and silk, and they'd barely started. He took deep breaths to steady himself and watched Tien pull something from under a pillow.

His stomach dropped. "Is…is that lube?"

"Yep," said Tien, twisting the cap off.

"Are—" Yamcha swallowed. "Are you gonna fuck me?" He wasn't ready, hadn't had time to prepare himself for this, sure the idea kind of excited him but he was really more afraid than excited—

"What? No." Tien poured some over his fingers with measured precision. "I mean—if you want to sometime, we can, but I'm—I'm not ready for that yet." He sounded embarrassed. "Sorry."

"Oh geez, don't be sorry, I'm not ready for that either." Yamcha eyed Tien's dripping fingers warily. "So what's the lube for, then?"

Instead of answering, Tien slipped his hand into Yamcha's panties and gave him a stroke. The lube made it nice and slick and easy, and Yamcha let himself relax into the pillows, eyes sliding shut as Tien's hand moved up and down his shaft. If all Tien wanted to do was give Yamcha a hand job, he could live with that. Something pressed into his hand and he opened his eyes to see the bottle of lube. Tien moved away and hooked his thumbs in his own waistband and oh right, he was going to want Yamcha to touch him, too.

Tien was already hard when he kicked his pants and boxers off the end of the bed. Yamcha licked his lips. He took back the fantasy of riding Tien into the mattress—there was no way something that big was going in his body. But he did want to touch it, feel the weight of it in his hand. So he covered his hand in lube and beckoned. "Are we going to do this or not?" he asked.

Tien took the bottle from him and tossed it onto the bedside table. His eyes burned with lust, and Yamcha barely had time to swallow before Tien was on him, kissing him roughly again and grinding their hips together. Yamcha clutched Tien's back with his other hand and pried Tien's mouth open. Tien was an enthusiastic kisser, but not a good one, so Yamcha quickly took control, leaving Tien breathless and gasping and despite himself Yamcha felt a surge of pride, it had been so long but he still had it—

A hand buried itself in his waistband and there was a horrible ripping sound. Yamcha broke away to stare down at his crotch. Tien had torn his panties halfway off. "What was that for?" Yamcha demanded. "I liked those." The words startled him. Oh, God, he had liked the panties. He'd liked how they felt against his most sensitive parts, he'd liked the fit and the cut of them, he'd liked the secret knowledge shared only by him and Tien that they were there.

"I'll buy you more." Tien gave another yank and they came off the rest of the way. "I wanted to see you all the way undone."

"Well." Yamcha guided Tien's hand back to his cock. "I'm not there yet."

After that was a blur, a beautiful mess of touching and friction and hormones, Tien thrusting his hips forward as Yamcha rolled his up. Their hands moved between them as well, grasping and tugging and rubbing. Tien buried his face in Yamcha's neck and bit down, drawing a cry from Yamcha, and it felt good, it felt so good, Yamcha gasped and pleaded and his breath came in short bursts. For all intents and purposes, it was just a hand job, and Yamcha had jerked himself off enough times that it should be nothing new to him. But there was something in the way Tien's hips moved against his, the feeling of the ruined panties still on his ass, the way his fingers brushed against Tien's. Yamcha couldn't speak, couldn't form words, instead panted and moaned even as Tien's hips jerked and he bit down harder.

Something warm and wet shot across Yamcha's wrist and belly, and Yamcha kept going, smearing it over himself and Tien. Tien moved up to look him in the face, and all three of his eyes were dazed and glassy. He dove down to kiss Yamcha again and he lost it, his moans buried in Tien's mouth as he came.

For a long moment, they both just lay there, still sloppily mouthing at each other. Then Tien rolled onto his side, pulling Yamcha with him. "Fuck," he breathed. "You're amazing, Yamcha."

Yamcha smiled tiredly at him. "For a virgin, you were pretty hot yourself. Been getting tips from somewhere?"

"I-I—no." Tien turned scarlet and looked away. Yamcha made a mental note to press him about it later, when they weren't both still high on sex. Tien looked back at him, suddenly shy. "Stay the night?"

Yamcha hesitated. He probably shouldn't. Puar would worry—or worse, guess (correctly) that they'd done something. And it wasn't like they were really dating—it was a transaction, Yamcha's body for Tien's money, nothing more.

But he was kind of tired. And Tien's arms were pretty nice around him.

"Just this once," he said.

Tien smiled and pulled him closer.

Yamcha inspected himself in the mirror. Yep, that was an impressive hickey, alright. He hadn't noticed it until he got out of Tien's shower that morning, but it was big and purple and he would kill Tien for it if he didn't need his money.

Dammit, it was too hot for high collared shirts. And he'd just gotten his hair cut again, so it wasn't long enough to cover it. Tien had done this on purpose, so the world would know what Yamcha had been up to. He swallowed and shook his head. The thought excited him and he pushed it away.

"Yamcha! Come see what Tien sent you!"

Yamcha pulled his sleeveless, high necked jacket on and headed into the living room. Puar floated in the middle of it, beaming and holding a beautiful bouquet of red rosebuds. His face softened as Puar handed the bouquet to him. "I'll get a vase for them. I'm sure we have one around here somewhere." She flew off into the kitchen, leaving him with the flowers.

Flowers. When was the last time anyone had given Yamcha flowers? He was pretty sure no one ever had. Even Bulma, when they'd dated, had expected him to bring her flowers, not the other way around. Most of the time men weren't given flowers, and Yamcha realised it was something he wanted. Maybe Tien wasn't so bad after all.

Except, he realised, the flowers didn't have any smell. Yamcha frowned slightly and pressed his face to them, taking a deep whiff. Yep, no smell. And they felt like cloth.

No. Not cloth.

Lace.

Yamcha's eyes widened. He didn't. He hadn't.

He tugged at one of the petals and sure enough, the whole rosebud unravelled. He was left holding a pair or lacy red panties identical to the ones Tien had destroyed the night before, and a bouquet of what he assumed were more panties.

Tien hadn't been joking when he said he'd buy Yamcha more panties.

He wasn't sure if he should be glad or not.