Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Dragons and Yaoi ❯ Part 5 ( Chapter 5 )

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ characters. I'm not getting any profit of this fan fiction work.

Warnings: Yaoi (male x male). Mirai Trunks x Gohan. Bishounen. Absolute OOC.

 

Dragons and Yaoi

 

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com)

 

Part 5

 

Gohan stuck his dark head into the room. “Athara?” He saw the younger man sitting at the table and looking out through the window. “Hey, c'mon, enough pouting. Let's go downstairs to eat.”

 

Athara turned to him, wanted to say something but then just shook his lavender-haired head and stood up; Gohan didn't ever react to any of his words anyway.

 

During breakfast Delaros filled Gohan and Athara in about his and Darius' evening the previous day. They had found a ship that could take them to the Jahuda free port. The price and day had been already settled. As they had caught the captain unprepared (the ship just came back from Jahuda), right now he was looking for more crew and supplies. Meanwhile Delaros and Darius were going to look for more mercenaries to hire (Delaros and Darius had already been arguing if they needed mercenaries while on a ship, but the pirates were a serious threat everywhere, and an extra protection wasn't harmful).

 

Athara didn't feel hungry. He listened to Delaros absentmindedly while stirring his eggs and bacon around in his plate. When he had almost made a cocktail, Darius entered the inn. The sorcerer gave them all a searching look and went to buy his breakfast.

 

The sorcerer didn't say anything about his searching party, and Gohan and Athara didn't ask - they knew that Darius was waiting for Delaros to leave.

 

Delaros just let that strange silence slip and didn't question Darius. He rarely did.

 

“Here,” Darius tossed the two daggers onto the table as soon as Delaros went to his room to take his cloak. The daggers clinked loudly on the table. Darius concentrated back on eating his breakfast.

 

Gohan leaned in closer to observe the daggers. He whistled softly. The daggers were a fortune.

 

The small delicate twin daggers were perfection: the blades fine, narrow and straight. The metal was that of the finest quality: Gohan doubted if Athara ever sharpened the daggers, but the edges seemed as if just sharpened, and he had seen Athara bury one of them into his attacker's stomach easily. The handles were work of art: they were black, obviously comfortable to hold and not slippery. The protective crowns of the handles were made of the same metal like the blades and they were encrusted with red and black gems. Those were rubies and obsidian. Gohan shook his head in disbelief again.

 

“Where did you find them?” Athara reached to take his daggers, but then his hand faltered. One of the daggers was bloodied. A scene of the blade slipping into his attacker's stomach and warm blood trickling over his fist replayed in his mind. But the blood on the dagger was fresh. Athara's scared eyes shot to Darius.

 

Darius held his gaze. “The barkeeper worked together with that group. I found these behind the counter.”

 

“Did you…?” Athara's wide seraphic eyes searched dark ones.

 

“Gods, Athara,” Darius leaned back in his chair, amused. “I'd expect you'd be the first to cut him open…” He pushed his empty plate away. Darius sighed after noticing Athara's hand trembling over the daggers. “No, I just scared him a little. And took his bar down,” he said, chuckling. “Maybe I could have looked for those other bastards, but we don't have time for that.”

 

Athara nodded. He quickly took the daggers and wanted to conceal them in his wide cloak, but a heavy innkeeper's hand fell on his shoulder, making Athara startle. The innkeeper reached his hand. Athara frowned but gave him the daggers.

 

Gohan relaxed. His hand moved away from his side. Even despite the times when he didn't have his sword, the reflex always stayed within him. But he noticed that Darius didn't even react to the innkeeper. Gohan thought that maybe he became paranoid.

 

After several minutes the sorcerers left to look for men to hire, and Gohan was left with Athara. Gohan accepted it as a role of baby-sitter. Though, he wasn't angry, he liked Athara, he found it interesting to talk with the younger man and, of course, nice to look at.

 

Though, they rarely talked about important things. Athara didn't easily talk about his home or what he was doing at all. He still didn't know anything about Athara's past. Also Gohan found it disturbing that Athara never questioned him about anything. If Athara were interested in him, he would at least ask him something… They just simply had small talks. Though he suspected that Athara felt uncomfortable and didn't want to know anything about him because he felt bad that he himself didn't tell Gohan anything about his life.

 

Gohan sipped his ale. It was already his fifth tumbler. Even if he was sitting next to the most gorgeous creature in the whole island, he was bored out of his mind. “Hey, Athara, get at least some tea,” Gohan said. “I feel uncomfortable while you're just sitting and staring at me.”

 

“I'm not staring at you,” Athara folded his arms over his chest. But his face covered in a slight blush.

 

“Yes, you are,” Gohan shook his finger at Athara. Gohan grinned. He grinned wider after Athara said that he was drunk and went to buy a mug of tea for himself.

 

Gohan knew he was quite attractive. Though, he never cared about his looks - he more cared about the condition of his sword and boots than about his face. Until now. Yes, he realized, he was quite drunk. He had been nervous. Today he had been planning to finally make that fatal step in seducing Athara, or at least in making it all more serious than several winks and snippy remarks from his side. As much as it might have appeared to be very easy for him, in reality his heart throbbed at each Athara's look and he had trouble with his drying throat while talking to the man. He had hoped several drinks would loosen him up. Sadly, he couldn't get Athara drink.

 

Gohan grinned at Athara who came back with a steaming mug of tea. “Nice daggers you have here…” Gohan himself wasn't sure if he meant the daggers Athara had or the daggers that Athara was glaring at him, but was pleasantly surprised when Athara shortly smiled.

 

“Yes,” Athara nodded. “I like them. They…” he shifted to get more comfortable on the bench. “I didn't exactly tell the truth to Darius. The daggers aren't a gift. They belonged to my mother,” Athara's sapphire eyes hooded over. “She died when I was six years old. Those daggers are everything I have left.”

 

Gohan sipped his ale. “Yeah, I thought that they looked quite ladylike…”

 

Athara's soft laugh made Gohan smile too. “Yeah,” Athara nodded, his beautiful face heating up. “They do look womanish. But at least my mother knew how to use them...”

 

Gohan bit his tongue before he could have said that they quite suited to Athara too. He had noticed that the comments about his looks made Athara uncomfortable. Even if they were only an innocent tease. “Heh, that guy whom you had cut open would object that,” he chuckled instead. He saw Athara's face fall and decided to concentrate on something else. “Who was your mother?” he asked.

 

“A mage,” Athara answered. “Quite powerful,” he added.

 

“How did she look?” Gohan asked, though he had a good imagination on this one. He suspected that Athara was a picture of her.

 

Athara closed his sapphire eyes to summon his mother's image from his memory. “She was very beautiful. Tall, had long blue hair and eyes like sea. And a very nice voice. She used to sing to me to get me to sleep,” he smiled softly.

 

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Gohan asked wanting to distract the lavender-haired man whose eyes, despite the smile on his lips, now were glazed. He had noticed long time ago that Athara was easily moved.

 

Athara shook his head, his long hair cascading down his back. “No. I'm all alone.”

 

“That's sad,” Gohan sighed. He finished the last drop of his ale. “I loved playing with my brothers. Though, we always ended up beating the shit out of each other and then crying our heads off.”

 

“Sounds like fun,” Athara laughed softly while looking at his steaming tea. Oh, what he wouldn't have given to spend his childhood or at least several years like Gohan did… Even now he would do anything…

 

“Oh, it was fun,” Gohan nodded. “Those days were the best.” He shortly got up went to get another tumbler and soon was back.

 

“And where are they now? Your brothers, I mean?” Athara asked, raising his head to Gohan who sat down opposite him.

 

“One is serving in the Western Legion. Other is already married and with two children. Oh man, that was a surprise,” Gohan chuckled. “But he's happy. Last time I saw him, he was blabbering about his youngest nonstop. Who would have thought…?”

 

“And what does he do, that your brother?” Athara interested, a smile gracing his full lips. Gohan had a family he always wanted to have. Though, it didn't make him jealous (it never did) it just made him sad and made him earn for the things he could never have.

 

“Raoul works in the city Watch.” Gohan's eyes darkened with the unpleasant memories. “I worked there too but my boss and I had a major falling out. I left, but he was taken down too; I stirred the water enough. Raoul took over his place. I could have come back, but…” he sighed. “Well, there were enough people who knew where I live and what I do, so I turned my tail and left,” he shrugged, scratching the mug with his nails.

 

Athara stared at him not blinking. “Did they try to reach you?”

 

Gohan chuckled. “Oh yes, plenty of times. And then gave up. I came back to Vartua after two years. But by that that time I already knew that I like traveling.”

 

Athara nodded. “And your parents?” he asked.

 

“Oh, they are okay. Two stubborn codgers…” Gohan smiled fondly, taking another swig. “Saw them several weeks ago. Father bought two new stallions and is hoping that at least one of them can win the oncoming Tichiara race.”

 

“Ah,” Athara nodded, dreamily. “Heard of that one. The prize is quite big.”

 

“Yeah,” Gohan laughed. “I just wonder who's going to ride them. But he'll find someone…” He silenced then.

 

“He suggested riding to you? Why did you refuse?” Athara asked, wondering.

 

Gohan shrugged. “No, he didn't suggest. But I suspect he was going to. But then I met your party and got hired.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah,” Gohan sighed.

 

Gohan shrugged again. His attention then was all on Athara. “Athara, do you like me?”

 

“Eh,” Athara blinked at the unexpected change of the subject. He blushed. “Well, yeah.” He squirmed even more after Gohan gave him an intent look.

 

“Then would you come closer that I could kiss you?” Gohan grinned at Athara while the man was uncomfortably shifting on the bench.

 

Athara sighed. He lowered his head and sipped his cold tea. “You are drunk. Later you won't even remember what you have been talking about.”

 

“Very might be,” Gohan agreed. “But I still want to kiss you.”

 

Athara rolled his eyes at the tea. They sat silently for several minutes.

 

“Then I'll go play the poker with the guys, if you don't mind,” Gohan stood up and staggered to the tables where several men were playing poker.

 

“No, I don't mind,” Athara muttered to Gohan's retreating back. He was sure that Gohan wouldn't remember a thing later. And if remembered, just would brush it off like a stupid drunken incident. Because everyone did.

 

Athara leaned at the table, his arms on it, enclosing the tea mug. It was nothing new those words. And nothing new that behavior. As he didn't give Gohan what he wanted, the man just settled for playing cards. They always did.

 

Athara snorted angry at his mug. Damn people. Sometimes he really hated them all. Almost enough to bring them all down. Just to crush them like an annoying bug. Maybe that was the true reason why he still was with Delaros - maybe not because he couldn't avoid it but because he wanted.

 

For people he was only his looks. Oh, thousands of times he heard those words referred to him: `pretty thing', `beauty', `pretty boy', `baby', `cutie', `love', even `fuck-toy' or `fuck-buddy'. It seemed that nothing else existed, only his appearance. It seemed nobody cared for what was underneath it. Everybody just saw a pretty face, a fuck-hole. And if not that then he was seen like some living proof of some idiotic prophesy. People put him on pedestal and worshiped. He didn't want to be worshiped. He wanted to be seen. He, and not that idiotic prophecy, not his looks, but he, Athara.

 

Ah, those were two different things, his looks and his inside. Sometimes he hated this body. He couldn't understand why it was this body he was stuck in. He'd have preferred something a much simpler one…

 

But maybe there was nothing to be seen. Maybe there was nothing underneath that. Perhaps humans were right. Often he wondered if he was empty like his looks, just a beautiful shell with nothing inside. Maybe that's why nobody saw him more as that. Maybe there was simply nothing to be seen in him. People talked with him, and there were only raunchy, hateful or worshiping looks on their faces.

 

He was tired of that. He spun around in that decorated circle where it seemed nothing was ever real. He had been living like this the entire time after he had started maturating. He didn't know why he still wasn't used to that, why he kept on looking for more. But he wanted more than that. He wanted something…something he could touch…something that…that…

 

Maybe he was too soft like his father always said. His father told him that he should have been born as a girl. Maybe his father was right. But he had no choice in that matter. And he didn't remember much about his father, anyway. He had been very young when he was taken to the monastery.

 

Oh, he used to cut his hair short. Not that it mattered - he just looked even cuter: big blue eyes and full lips and nothing else. He was only that - a pretty face within a prophecy. But he hadn't been so tamed before: he had been eager to see more of the world, he had been full of plans, wanted to do so many things. And then he was stuck, suddenly. Instead of that everything, he was just stuck in this body, and - what a paradox - in this world. The freedom didn't bring freedom to him. It brought only more pain and loneliness. He had so many choices and at the same time he had none of them.

 

Why he was just following Delaros now? Why he just followed that man like a lost puppy? Did he need anyone at all? Though, maybe that what he was - just a lost puppy. As he didn't know what he wanted, and if he knew he was sure he'd never have it, so he had chosen to go with the flow, just to do what everyone had expected from him, what his role required from him to do.

 

Darius suggested leaving. Let's say he could do that. But what then? What he would do then? Oh, Gods, he didn't even know what he wanted to do… And why leave? Maybe he really just needed to fulfill the prophecy. Sometimes he thought that he wanted that…wanted a new beginning, a new world? And with that an end had to come. Or maybe he was just curious? But were those his thoughts, at all? Or those already were the thoughts of the people around him, the people that were with him from the moment he came to this world?

 

“Athara, sweetheart, come over here.”

 

Athara scowled at Gohan who was grinning at some man while brushing off his won goods off the table and into his pockets. Yes, “sweetheart” was one of those he also hated.

 

“What?” Athara asked instead of coming over. He threw his lavender hair back angrily. The hair twinkled thunder while catching the light that came through the window. Athara's cold eyes concentrated on Gohan.

 

“I'm winning!” Gohan grinned at him happily.

 

“Good for you,” Athara said. He finished the last cold drops of his tea. He took the empty mug to the bar. “I'll go to my room,” he said to Gohan whose surprised look fell on Athara's retreating back.

 

XXXXX

 

“Fucking shit,” Gohan groaned while rubbing his forehead. He was sitting on his bed, his throbbing head in his hands. “Why I'm so fucking stupid?” Each time he ended up like this, he swore not to drink anymore. Now it would make about sixtieth time.

 

Gohan looked around. He was alone in the room. It was about ten o'clock in the morning: the sun was up and shining. The ray beam was hitting the dirty window and splashing all over the oval table in the middle of the room.

 

Gohan groaned again after remembering yesterday. After Athara went upstairs to his room, he just lost the track. He had been upset - instead of getting closer to Athara he had made it somehow worse. He had been too drunk to figure out why Athara left him playing poker while he wanted nothing more only Athara at his side, but he was not drunk enough to realize that he had been left. So he played the cards and drank to wash off the bitterness he felt. Fucking stupid.

 

He could not believe how stupid he was. And what if someone had attacked them then? That robber band was still roaming somewhere in the town. One just needed to ask if anyone saw a lavender-haired beauty, and everyone would point their finger at this inn. He could have gotten them both killed!

 

Gohan groaned again. He always became as stupid as his boots when he drank.

 

With his fingers massaging his temples, Gohan slowly got up. His head felt like it was going to explode at any moment. He even didn't bother tidying his hair up. He slowly dressed, pulled his boots on and staggered to Delaros and Athara's room. Everyone was there. Gohan just scratched his head and smiled sheepishly when everyone's eyes fell on him. He was expecting Delaros to scold the shit out of him or even refuse his services but Delaros just turned back to Athara who was still lying in the bed. Gohan thought that it was quite strange: it was him who overslept after all. Gohan came closer to the bed.

 

Athara's sleepy eyes fell on him. Athara looked ill. He was covered with several covers, and, at the table next to the window, Darius was making some herbal tea; the room was permeated with the pleasant smell.

 

“Hey,” the younger man nodded at Gohan. Gohan nodded back at the lavender-haired man.

 

“He caught cold,” Darius explained to Gohan.

 

Gohan observed Athara again. Dammit. One after another. Must have gotten cold while that night running down the streets, naked. He still could perfectly remember Athara's damp body trembling in his arms.

 

Athara squeezed out a weak smile. “I'm just a little feverish. I'll be fine in several hours.”

 

Darius snorted. “In several days, not sooner.” He got up and brought the steaming tea to Athara who took it with a little shaking hands.

 

Athara's blue crystalline eyes closed in shame; here we go, he was a hindrance again. He slowly sat down and carefully, not to burn, pressed the mug to his lips.

 

“Nothing to get upset about,” Delaros rose from his seat. “The ship isn't ready yet and we still don't have enough men. We got only two yet.”

 

“Ehh…” Gohan coughed to get attention. “I have found three. They are quite good.”

 

The other three men turned to look at him. Gohan scratched his head sheepishly. “Well, I was playing poker and after their money was dry they played on engagement… They lost.”

 

Athara burst out laughing. He then choke on the tea and got a coughing fit. “It seems he managed to outdo you both without setting his foot out of the inn…” he rasped out, giving the mug back to Darius and leaning his heavy head back onto the pillow.

 

Darius chuckled, taking the mug. “It seems so. Good job,” he grinned at Gohan.

 

“Then we'll need only several more,” Delaros nodded. He wrapped himself in his dark cloak. “Let's go”, he motioned for Darius.

 

Gohan was silent. He knew he didn't deserve the compliments. He suspected that they didn't know that the previous day he was fucked up as hell. He wondered how they didn't notice that - as far as he remembered - he had just passed out at one of the tables. Delaros and Darius should have noticed him there as soon as they entered the inn. Unless…unless Athara had carried him upstairs. He frowned. Athara must have already felt unwell at that time.

 

When the door sent the two sorcerers away, Gohan sat up at Athara's side. He could see that Athara was drowsing. “Can't believe that yesterday they didn't notice that I was drunk out of my head,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

 

Athara's eyes opened. The two sapphire pools concentrated on Gohan's face. “Of course Darius smelt it all over you. And Delaros wouldn't notice anything even if it bit him in the ass.”

 

Gohan chuckled. Athara was quite sharp what concerned Delaros. That made him think that Athara didn't quite like the oldest sorcerer. Gohan smiled at Athara whose lips curled into a smile too.

 

<i>Then would you come closer that I could kiss you?</i>

 

<i>But I still want to kiss you.</i>

 

Gohan shook himself up. “About yesterday…” Gohan coughed, embarrassment sweeping over him. “I was drunk out of my mind, whatever idiotic things I did…”

 

Athara waved off. “You all talk bullshit when drunk.” Athara's mouth hung open after he realized what he had said.

 

Gohan felt his muscles stiffen.

 

Athara squirmed uncomfortably between the sheets. “I meant… Err…” he then just turned away from Gohan to the wall. It was pretty clear what he meant anyway and no words would change that.

 

Gohan watched Athara's lavender head for some time. He was thinking. He thought if Athara had been right about him. Like he suspected, Athara wasn't the type to subscribe for one-night-stand. He had hurt Athara yesterday. Even if he didn't intend to. But now the man made him think. Would he ever have looked at Athara's side if Athara's looks had nothing exceptional? Would have he gotten interested in Athara? For it really was why he noticed Athara in first place - Athara was unbelievably pretty. What had he been thinking when he decided to go after Athara? - What a pretty thing, interesting how would he feel on my cock?

 

Gohan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes still locked on Athara's back. Alright, he loved the way Athara looked, he was not blind after all, but he loved some other things too: he loved how Athara's eyes sparkled while looking at him; he loved that Athara's delicate but at the same time boyish-insolent attitude; he loved that Athara rather ignored his looks than boasted about; he loved how one moment Athara could be an innocent lamb and then turn into a “hellcat”.

 

Maybe Athara's appearance had triggered his interest, but now it wasn't about looks. He liked Athara. And liked him pretty much. He went further with Delaros because he wanted, because of Athara, not because of possibility to try and split Athara on his cock, but went because he liked the man; the possibility came after that. Though, now it was going to be a bit difficult to convince Athara. But he was up to the task.

 

“Do you want anything to eat?” Gohan asked. Athara didn't answer. Gohan thought that Athara was either uncomfortable or angry with him, but, after looking closely, realized that Athara was simply asleep.

 

Gohan sat back onto his chair. The next three hours he spent watching Athara's back falling and rising in a steady breathing flow.

 

XXXXX

 

“Hey, Athara, brought some soup for you,” Gohan called reaching the bowl with the spoon to Athara.

 

Athara stirred. He raised his head drowsily. His sight concentrated on the steaming bowl under his nose. “Can't say that I'm very hungry…” he drawled.

 

“C'mon,” Gohan insisted. “You need to eat. You still lack weight after that illness you had before.”

 

Athara sighed. That was true; he had noticed his body becoming thinner. He propped up pillows under his back and sat up. Gohan reached the bowl for him and he took it. He had to agree that the smell was pleasant. It was chicken soup. He could see carrots, potatoes and parsleys swimming too.

 

“It's very good,” Athara lowered the spoon back into the bowl after tasting the soup. He was quite surprised - usually the food here was…edible.

 

“Heh,” Gohan snickered. “For the money I paid to make it, it should better be.”

 

Athara looked at Gohan, his intense blue eyes sweeping over the other man's face. “You have specially ordered to make it?” his log eyelashes fluttered in surprise after Gohan nodded. Athara looked at the soup again. He shoveled more into his mouth. He decided that Gohan must be feeling guilty. “I'm not going to be your pretty toy,” Athara said then after swallowing. Not looking at Gohan, he lowered the spoon into the bowl again.

 

Gohan scowled at the younger man's back of the head. “Who said I want that?”

 

Athara took another spoonful. “And you don't?” He asked still not looking at Gohan.

 

Gohan leaned back in his chair. “I want you to be my lover, not my toy.”

 

The spoon faltered on its way to Athara's mouth. “I see,” the spoon continued its journey.

 

The cutting silence settled in the room. It lasted for about five minutes, almost driving Gohan crazy.

 

“You kill people for money,” Athara said then. He put the empty bowl on the ground. “I suppose that as a mercenary you don't have many things to bind you.”

 

“So you say that I'm not capable of doing anything else for which I don't get paid?” Gohan snorted. His dark eyes then widened when he realized the true meaning Athara held. He growled in anger. “You accuse me of whoring?”

 

Athara shrugged, “You sell yourself, and I suspect you believe everyone else is like you.” He yelped in pain as Gohan fist caught him on his chin and his head hit the metallic headboard. His head rang in loud bells.

 

“You little shit!” Gohan roared. He restrained himself from hitting Athara again, but stood there with his fists clenched at his sides, his chest heaving with anger. “Don't fucking talk what you know nothing about! Kill people?! Do you freaking think that I enjoy that?! -It's just as good as any job around here! Then let's get cross over the soldiers or over the ones who produce bows and spiers!” he shouted. “You fucking think I was to buy you? You know I can just go to any whorehouse I want. Maybe they are not as pretty,” he hissed out the word, “but at least I wouldn't have to put up with this your…grrr! Not everything is about money or sex!”

 

Not being sure if Gohan wouldn't hit him again, Athara had pressed himself to the headboard. While the other man was fuming, he brushed over his lower lip to wipe a small trickle of runlet that was making its way down his chin. He looked at the blood on his fingers. Idly, he wondered if he should return the favor but then decided against it. His tongue brought this upon his head; Gohan was just a man who had been insulted.

 

Gohan watched Athara who had pushed himself into a corner between the headboard and the wall. The anger was lessening, and he could see Athara's lip bleeding. Athara's wide sapphire eyes were watching him cautiously. And suddenly he felt like an idiot while standing there and fuming in anger. He doubted that Athara heard anything he said, anyway, - the younger man just watched him with his big eyes.

 

With his thumb, he reached out to wipe the blood from Athara's lip. But Athara shied away from him. Gohan sighed. “C'mon. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…” he reached out again. This time Athara let him touch him, but after a second Gohan was shocked to have the younger man press himself to him.

 

“I should have kept my mouth shut,” Athara whispered into Gohan's shirt.

 

Gohan felt wetness stain his shirt. He held Athara while that was hiding face in his chest and crying. Gohan rarely cried. One could say never. He just noticed long time ago that tears didn't make things better, unless worse. Though, he himself was quite sensitive to such displays. Like most men. Usually it stirred something deep and instinctual and protective towards a crying person.

 

“I'm sorry,” Gohan stroke his palm over the silken strands. He inhaled the scent that surrounded him and that was entirely Athara. He loved that. He frowned then. His cursed temper broke through again - his cursed temperHhe shouldn't have hit Athara. These and previous Athara's words clearly showed that the younger man didn't trust people. Athara probably saw treasons everywhere. And though sometimes it was good and saved one's life when needed, too much of mistrust brought loss and paranoia. Gohan suspected that Athara didn't really know how it felt to be loved. Athara's mother died when he was young and he didn't have any siblings, and a rare father could fulfill the role of two, of mother and father, and give enough warmth for a child.

 

“I'm sorry,” Gohan repeated after Athara pulled back.

 

Athara quickly nodded, his hand angry and roughly brushed at the tears covering his cheeks. He hated when he just broke like that. It was so damn silly, he knew. “I shouldn't have said that,” Athara shook his head apologetically. He settled back into the bed.

 

Gohan watched Athara's lowered head, the curtain of lavender hair covering his face. “So will you let me try, then?” He heard Athara softly laugh then. Athara's still watery but now amused sapphire eyes met his.

 

“Yes,” Athara nodded then. “I'd be glad if you tried,” he blushed lightly. “Though, it doesn't mean that it will be easy.”

 

“Oh, I didn't even expect that,” Gohan chuckled. He saw Athara softly touch his lower lip, and felt a wave of guilt washing over him again. He took the spoon from Athara's empty bowl, wiped it clean and reached for Athara. “Here, press it, I'll go get a bottle. First you use it then we'll use it the other way,” he winked at Athara before leaving the room.

 

Athara gazed at the door for several seconds. He lowered the spoon from his lip to his lap. He looked at the spoon for some time then his fingers trailed up his chin and to the lip. He was tempted to remove this little Gohan's “kiss” right now, but decided that it would be much more pleasant to have Gohan fusing about him. Even if with a good reason, the man had hit him after all.

 

Athara's fingertips touched the corner of his smiling lips.

 

XXXXX

 

Darius' questioning eyes settled on Athara's swollen lip and bruised chin. “And what, in the hell, has happened to you?”

 

Delaros' forehead furrowed. He hated Darius or Athara curse. Though, sometimes he cursed too, but only with a good reason, he reasoned. Delaros plopped on the chair next to the table and, interested, turned to Athara, too.

 

Athara settled on the pillows. “A cat,” he grinned at the two men.

 

“Yeah? A heavy right paw has it,” Darius rolled his eyes. Though, as Athara rather seemed to be happy to have his lip swollen, he didn't care much. Neither did he wonder why Athara chose to leave that proof of the “cat” on his face. “It seems you feel better?” he inquired instead.

 

Athara nodded. “Yeah, I slept, then Gohan brought me some soup and then I slept again. I feel good now. Your herbs really work.”

 

“Sure they do,” Darius took another chair and leaned on it with his hands folded behind his head. “So, maybe Gohan got several more men for us? We rather had a shitty day,” he stretched his legs.

 

“Darius,” Delaros shifted on his chair.

 

“But it was really shitty,” Darius looked at him innocently.

 

Delaros just sighed.

 

Athara suppressed his laugh with his palm. “No,” he shook his head. “I'm afraid he didn't get anyone. He was with me all the time.”

 

Darius' brow cocked at him. He still kept his hands folded behind his head. “Then he was rather careless letting that cat paw at you… Did it paw about anywhere else?” he just couldn't help teasing.

 

Athara turned all scarlet. After Delaros' eyes concentrated on him, he started coughing to fake a cough fit. And Darius, the bastard, was giving him that knowing look.

 

“No, it didn't,” still scarlet, Athara glared at Darius.

 

Darius clucked his tongue in disappointment. “And where's that your cat now?” Darius looked at him innocently. He quickly ducked a flying pillow. Then he ducked a flying boot and then a flying soap-bar. “I see you mastered that soap-bar quite good,” Darius chuckled while hiding behind Delaros. He ducked as another bar of soap flew past his head.

 

“Will you finally stop it?” Delaros glared at Darius then Athara. “Like small children! What is it about?” he then looked at Athara.

 

Athara's hand with another ready soap-bar faltered then lowered to his lap. Delaros always missed what Darius noticed from the first glance. Delaros was damn smart what came to planning and various auguries, but when it came to feelings, he always missed everything. But maybe that was for the best; he didn't want Delaros sulking about.

 

“He's teasing me again,” Athara glared at Darius, realizing that now he sounded like a whining child. Sometimes he wondered what Delaros thought of him behaving like that… Though, he didn't actually care. Delaros wasn't the one he would want to take an example from, anyway.

 

“Both of you shut up and let's go to get our dinner,” Delaros stood up then. “Not you,” he glared at Athara who fumbled in the bed and lowered his feet to the ground. “Stay in bed.”

 

Athara gave a much telling look to Delaros that said that the older man that that started ordering around too much. Delaros shrunk back, alerted.

 

But Athara only pulled his feet back under the covers. “And my dinner?” he grunted out.

 

“I'll send Gohan to bring it to you,” Darius promised, secretly winking at Athara. Athara's eyes could have frozen the sun. Darius merely smiled.

 

TBC

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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