Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Kingdom Come ❯ Chapter 07: Epiphany ( Chapter 7 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

WARNING: See Chapter 1

Kingdom Come
~ Chapter 07Goten rested his head against the green satin of his pillowcase. He wore only a pair of black, loose-fitting sleep pants, as it was late at night. He stretched out, contented, his tail popping slightly as it stretched down behind him against the bed's mattress. He had just ordered new sheets placed on his bed, forgoing his usual white in favor of hunter green. His covers were of a deep purple as a contrast. The prince smiled as he rubbed his bare back against the satiny feel. He loved new sheets. So clean.

Grinning to himself, he rolled onto his stomach and simply drowned himself in the feel. He had no real idea why he did this, just a whim. But, before he could get too comfortable, the door to his room suddenly hissed open to allow an unannounced visitor in. Goten threw a chi blast before he even thought to question who it was. But it didn't matter. If it had been someone of low rank, the blast would have killed them, and would have been just punishment for entering the prince's room without an invitation. Unfortunately, the blast was merely deflected to a nearby table, which caused Goten to find he had a new stack of kindling already in his room should he ever want to start a fire.

"Goten, that's no way to great your brother." Gohan grinned, his teeth flashing in the dim light. Goten growled a bit, but sat up anyway. Gohan acknowledged the move with a light laugh as he went to sit on the edge of his brother's bed. "Already going to sleep, are you? So early, too. And alone."

"As you say, brother," Goten replied calmly, not rising to the taunting. He had lived with it for this long, why bother? "Why are you here?"

"Can't I just be visiting?" Gohan smiled.

Goten was reminded of the strange earth animals called alligators, who were always smiling, and who also cried false tears. "Considering that you saw me at dinner tonight, I don't see why you would wish to visit with me again so soon. Don't your duties demand more of your attention?"

"Nah. Not while His Majesty is away. Of course, we only have another two months of this. Father should be back about a month before the tournament!" Gohan laughed as he dropped back to lie on Goten's new sheets. "So..."

Goten forced himself not to snort. He'd have to get new sheets. "What?"

"I was wondering if you'd be willing to have a little spar tomorrow," Gohan inquired from where he laid upon the bed. He ran his hands over the silky feel of the clean sheets. "Nice sheets. Don't you usually sleep in 'Virgin White'? I mean, it is more fitting for you."

"Thank you, they -were- new," Goten replied in a clipped voice, knowing that his brother remained unaware of his growing anger. He hated how his brother kept harping on the fact that he refused to sleep around with anything that breathed as the rest of the family seemed more than inclined to do. "And I would love the chance to fight you tomorrow. May I ask why you're wanting this little bout?"

"Oh!" Gohan grinned as he rolled onto his side, still looking at his brother. His tail curled up in the sheets behind him, playing against the material as if it were its own toy. "I hear that Lord Piccolo is going to be there. I don't think he's been participating, but I know that he's been watching. And like I told you before, I think that he could make a very good... ally. I want him to see how strong I, um, WE, are, so he knows that WE are worthy of him."

"You mean that you want show off while fighting me," Goten said, dryly. He was getting sick, and he didn't know why. He started going over the extensive list of things he had eaten that day, but not thinking anything was poisoned.

"Yeah, pretty much," Gohan replied happily, smiling at his younger brother. "You're the best opponent I have, so I know you'll make me look good."

"Why, thank you for the praise," Goten answered. "I'll meet you in the arena a little after breakfast. That's when he arrives."

"Oh, you know his schedule?" Gohan asked with naked interest. Of anyone in the palace who would know the most about their strange, exotic visitor, it would be Goten. Goten, the Royal Inquisitor. Goten, the resident spy. It was part of his brother's job to spy on all newcomers to the palace, especially those who some considered a threat. And there were more than a few that considered Lord Piccolo a threat, no matter what the scouters read.

"Some of it. Most of the time, he simply retreats to one of the palace gardens and meditates," Goten replied evasively as he looked at his brother's tail still playing absently in his new, satiny sheets. His own tail wrapped around his middle.

"Huh. He seems passive, but I know he's powerful. I just know it!" Gohan cried out as he jumped to his feet. "I'll meet you there, little brother. Oh, and about your sheets. I like them. They remind me of Piccolo. I think I might have to get some sheets like those. I can't wait to sleep in them! I mean, all that green, touching your body as you go to sleep... And the dark purple is the exact same color as his gi."

With that statement, Prince Gohan left his younger brother's room. Goten looked at the sheets, the thick blanket, and the place where Gohan had been laying. With a sigh of half resignation, half disgust, he went to the comm-unit and hailed room service. "I need new sheets."

"Yes, Prince Goten," came a feminine voice over the intercom. "We have listed here that you had ordered dark green satin sheets and a dark purple comforter. Would you like the same colorings again?"

Goten looked at the bed again, and thought about the strange green warrior. He shivered, but he didn't know from what, as he turned back to the intercom. "No. I'll have my standard white sheets and brown blanket."

"As you wish, sire." And the communication terminal fell silent again.

Goten left the room, not looking back over his shoulder. He had to get his mind clear. Somehow. He needed to sleep, and there was no way he was going to sleep any time soon, not with the way his mind was racing. Thoughts flew by him so fast he had no time to actually grasp them long enough to make sense of them. He continued to walk, knowing that his room would be ready by the time he was.

Aimlessly, he went down some of the more infrequently used corridors, his brother's visit still plaguing his mind. It was past curfew, so he wasn't afraid of being seen with so little on, but it never hurt to be a bit more cautious. 'Damn him,' he thought. 'Ruining my sheets. Why does he always have to taint things that belong to me?' Goten tried not to dwell on the sheets, after all, they were easily replaced, but he couldn't get his brother's smug expression out of his mind. It irritated him to no end to think of how cocky his brother was when it came to this. And he hadn't even spoken with the green man one-on-one!

Just thinking of that reminded Goten of his own personal conversation with the stranger. Goten growled as he leaned his bare back up against a wall. He took deep, soothing, calming breaths that did nothing but remind him of how it felt to be pressed between his opponent and the wall. It had been frightening. And good. He leaned his head back, thunking it on the wall. His tail swung low, lightly brushing the floor. He needed to do something about this! But what?

With a disgusted sound directed at himself, Goten pushed off the wall and continued on his meandering course, mindful of the dull ache that troubled his lower anatomy. He had been aroused before. It would go away on its own. He didn't have to degrade himself with some trash for a whore, nor would he have to pleasure himself. It would go away! Just as he would be able to push whatever strange thoughts or feelings he had for the green man away. Sighing, he wished everything would just go away and let him get on with his normal, second-best-is-all-he'd-get, life.

He rubbed his arms, not really feeling any kind of chill, just needing the contact. He sighed as he looked at the floor, not at where he was going. No one was out, so he had nothing to concern himself with. And if anyone was out, then he had the right to kill them on the spot. It was his right, as a Prince and as the Royal Inquisitor. But he was reminded of what Lord Piccolo had asked him, and he wondered, as one often wonders things that seem absurd, if he actually would kill the curfew breaker.

A light smell of greenery caught Goten's attention, shifting his gaze from the uninteresting patterns on the floor upward. He found himself at a very familiar spot, the place where he and Piccolo had fought. Instead of patching over the hole in the wall, Goten had required an archway there. Tilting his head to the side, the young prince wandered into the foliage, his tail swaying low and unguarded behind him. Strangely, given more light from inside the palace to the garden, odd flowers seemed to bloom. Goten gave a half grin as he leaned into one, sniffing the aromatic plant. 'Wonder what kind of fruit this will give,' he thought. Smiling, he plucked the flower and resumed his meandering course through the hallways.

He didn't realize Trunks was there until he was almost upon the other demi-saiyajin. It wasn't that he actually saw him, either. It was the drastic stench of stark terror that overpowered the delicate smell of the flower that alerted him to the other's presence. He looked up and noticed how wide and terrified Trunks' eyes were as they watched him. Yet, as terrified as the other was, he didn't move. Not a single muscle even twitched as Goten approached him. The purple tail hung lifeless, waiting to be abused and mangled again.

He stopped moving, looking at the slightly older demi-saiyajin. He thought of what Lord Piccolo said again, and remembered the threat about abusing Trunks. He didn't want to use the other male anyway. 'He's nothing to me,' Goten told himself as he tried to convince himself that he was in control of his life. With a slight quirk of his lips, Goten began to walk again, walking right past the other male.

Trunks was astonished to say the least. He watched in mute shock as Goten almost grinned at him as he walked past. He knew Piccolo had said something to him, something about changing his ways, but did the prince want him so greatly that he'd actually -do- as the other demanded?!

Questions that needed answers...

Turning as Goten passed him, Trunks came to a last minute decision. Before he was out of whispering range, Trunks confessed to one secret he had, something that was sure to get Goten's attention. The lavender haired half-breed just hoped that it would do some good. For both of them. "He doesn't have anyone. Piccolo, I mean. No one sleeps in his bed in his home except him."

Trunks waited for what he thought was to come. Instead of turning on him and demanding more information, though, Goten merely paused, turned to look over his shoulder, nodded in acknowledgment, and then continued on, as if he hadn't said anything.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Goten finally made his way back to his room. He'd figured that the servants had had ample time to change his bed linens, and he was correct. Fresh new sheets and blankets awaited him. Crawling into the large bed, he buried himself in the softness, pulling the blankets up to his chin. He examined them a bit; they were his usual fare, bland and simple. Goten sighed, already missing the rich jewel-tones of the green and purple sheets he'd just had. Maybe he would have them exchanged again.

But then, wouldn't that just remind him more of the enigmatic Piccolo? Gohan had been right; the colors were chosen with the stranger in mind, though subconsciously, Goten admitted. Everything he did now seemed to substantiate his growing fascination with the green warrior. Why? Why couldn't he just rid himself of these feelings and thoughts? It was all far too distracting. And what was the point anyway? Gohan had set his mind to getting Piccolo, and what the elder prince wanted, he got.

On the other hand, Piccolo hadn't sought out the older demi-saiyajin and had even looked disapprovingly on him at first sight. Yet he'd taken the time to speak to Goten, even if it was just to reprimand him. Although the ending had been left open. He recalled the green male standing over him, saying, 'When you can answer my questions, come back and talk with ME.' That was almost an invitation, wasn't it?

In general, Goten wouldn't have required an invite to speak to a guest, but Piccolo was the exception... in so many ways. He'd earned Goten's respect somehow, something he rarely gave to anyone. He wasn't even sure how or when Piccolo earned his respect; it was just there. And born from that respect was the demi-saiyajin's need for permission. Yes, he followed Piccolo around, but he wouldn't approach him, not unless the green male approved.

Trunks' small comment played itself over and over in his head. 'He doesn't have anyone.' So. Piccolo was, in fact, available. Why had the lavender-haired demi-saiyajin thought to tell him that? And... why was he volunteering information? Yes, Trunks still had seemed frightened by him, but Goten had left him alone; he hadn't planned on saying a word to the other male and didn't. 'He must've just been scared," Goten deduced. But still, he was somewhat thankful for the information. Piccolo was alone. And Goten could relate to that.

The stark white of the sheets glared at him as he was trying to fall asleep, and the prince wished for the green sheets even more. His last thought before he drifted off was, 'I'll have them replaced in the morning.'

***

Vegeta smiled shyly as Yamcha situated himself on the bed. He couldn't help the smile, small as it was. It was just so... strange. Here he was, a glorified nobody now, and this human went out of his way to make him feel special. It was rather... nice. Frightening in a way few things were, but nice. After the first few nights of continuous visiting, Vegeta hit upon the idea that perhaps Yamcha was going to come see him every night. When he did, it was enough to make the one-time prince weak with relief. And every morning, after the human left, Vegeta was free to move onto his side of the bed and soak in the smell of the other male. He didn't admit this to Yamcha though. He'd NEVER do that.

"Um, do you mind if I take off my shirt, please? It's hot in here, and you don't have any kind of decent circulation in this room," Yamcha asked.

Vegeta nodded his head, his mouth suddenly desert dry. Yamcha always asked, always tried to be polite, but somehow Vegeta found that he couldn't say no to whatever the other wanted. He watched with hungry eyes as Yamcha carelessly took off his shirt and tossed it close to the entrance, easily accessible on his way out the door.

Yamcha laid back down, curling up into his favorite spot. As soon as Vegeta finished his lullaby, he would roll over and allow the other male to curl up at his back. They had been playing this game for almost a month now. Probably a little over. There were teases, soft touches, but nothing that either of them could define as overt. Nothing that couldn't be said to have been... accidents. It was a kind of odd, torturous foreplay that was slowly killing Yamcha. He only hoped, in a strangely evilly perverse way, that it was having the same kind of effect on his tormentor.

Vegeta had to force himself to not walk the three feet over to the bed, and... His mind failed him each and every time he thought about trying something. He honestly didn't know what the other expected of him, nor did he understand completely what he expected of himself. His tail refused to wrap around his middle, deciding it would rather curl up tightly behind him. He turned his back to the scarred warrior on his bed, needing some way to clear his mind in order to think. He was running out of things to sing. There was one thing he -could- sing, but it wasn't the sort of thing that was... well, it was supposed to mean something. He looked back over his shoulder at Yamcha's expectant eyes. 'Dammit. Why is he doing this to me?' But he knew, even as he cursed the other, that he would rather be living this hell, this fire and passion and confusion, rather than his old one of stone and cold and indifference.

His tail made a snapping sound as it whipped through the air. He had made his decision. He'd live with it and worry about it later. His footsteps were steady as he walked over to the bed, something of which he was rather proud since his knees felt as reliable as broken scouters. "Roll over."

"What?" Yamcha asked, sitting up instead. This was unusual. "No song?"

"I'm going to sing to you, but this is a very... different song. It goes straight from the singer to the audience. No one else is allowed to hear this," Vegeta said as he tossed his own shirt to the opposite wall. Yamcha had yet to ask him to translate any of the songs he had sung, which was just as well. He just prayed, prayed to whatever deity out there who might remember him and might be listening, that Yamcha didn't ask for the translation of this one. With his heart hammering in his throat, he asked softly, "So, do you want to hear it or not?"

"Different, huh?" Yamcha blinked. He remembered well that the prince only knew lullabies. So, he assumed that this one was for a newborn, or something. Someone who would have to be held close as the song was sung.

Yamcha laid back down, laying on his side, shivering slightly as his back came into contact with Vegeta's chest and one muscled arm wrapped around him. He felt Vegeta rise up on the other arm, bracing himself above him. And then, the softest crooning began, blowing gently over his ear. Yamcha's entire body tightened at the sound, quivering. Vegeta closed his eyes as he drank in the scent of the human, drinking it in as if it were a fine cognac to be savored. If lust had been an enemy attack, Yamcha knew he'd be so dead that not even the dragonballs could revive him again. A brown tail betrayed itself by wrapping around both males as they lay in the bed. Vegeta was usually able to keep his lower half from directly touching the human, from giving his secret away, but in this instance, he was curled so tightly behind the other that there was no room for secrets. Yamcha was so focused on the soft sounds of the saiyajin's voice, the feel of his breath gently blowing against his ear, and the feel of his hand pressing Yamcha's upper torso back into him that he almost missed the hardness pressed into him. Almost, but not quite.

Yamcha wanted to turn over and simply kiss the other male. Kissing first, sex next. But he knew he couldn't do that. Not yet. Yamcha had some tact, more than most gave him credit for, and it was telling him that if Vegeta hadn't said anything yet, then there was a good reason. What that reason was, the human had no clue, but he knew that the prince had to have one. He -had- to, otherwise, he'd have to hurt him for putting them -BOTH- through this torture.

Vegeta had to concentrate on the words. He had to. He was getting drunk off of the heady scent of Yamcha's arousal. It was intoxicating. But he had promised a song, and that was what he was delivering. He didn't have to tell the meaning behind it, only sing it. He didn't have to say that the song was meant for his beloved, and ONLY his beloved. He only had to sing. So, the once proud saiyajin prince crooned the only love song he knew into the ear of the shivering human. When he was done, he gently kissed the curve of Yamcha's ear and then buried his head into the human's back. He felt better for it, as if singing it had actually done something more than make a fool of himself.

"Wow," Yamcha whispered softly, too stunned to think up a more elaborate reply. "Wow. That was... wow."

Vegeta smiled, his heart filling with pride. "Yeah. Now, sleep."

"Okay," the human replied, still stunned. He laid awake for a little while longer, staring at nothing, trying to think of anything nearly enough to equal that experience. The arm around his middle tightened, proving that Vegeta knew he was still awake. But he couldn't help it. He was strung so tight that... "Vegeta?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you sing that to me again? Not tonight, but soon?" Yamcha asked, glad for the fact that the saiyajin couldn't see his blush.

"If you like, I can teach it to you. But you'll have to swear, SWEAR to me, that you'll never sing it to anyone other than me," Vegeta answered him.

"Could you? Please?" Yamcha asked, trying to look over his shoulder. "I'd really enjoy it."

"I will teach it to you, then," Vegeta said. He opened his mouth to say more, but no sound came out. He tried three times, before sighing in defeat. He leaned and tilted his head a little and planted an open mouth kiss on the bare flesh of the human's back. "Go to sleep. Dawn comes too soon, and Trunks comes before."

Yamcha released a jagged sigh. He doubted he would ever be able to sleep, even as dark talons of unconsciousness dragged him under.

***

Mornings were never the same, yet they were never too different from the last that someone might take notice. The arenas were filled with people. Low-level fighters desperately trying to raise their status, raise their chances of survival. There were some that were the only warriors of religious races. There were some that were there to gain honor for their families. And there were some there simply because they had no place else to be. Piccolo looked at all of the fighters, taking note of their fighting styles and their attacks, and knew that of those sparring, not a single one stood a chance of surviving.

The raven-haired android guard stood close at hand, watching the taller green male watch the fighters. He knew that Trunks was not nearby, though it wasn't because of any reading in his scouter. It was more because he had seen the exhaustion in the other's blue eyes earlier that morning and demanded that Trunks get some sleep. Trunks tried to refuse at first, but 17 made sure to insist. He kept muttering about doing as his mother said. It took a few less than subtle statements that if Trunks wasn't at his best, he would get caught, he would get hurt, and then his mother would suffer at his suffering before Trunks finally agreed to sleep. With a mental shake, 17 refocused on the present. "So, do you wish to participate?"

Before Piccolo could respond, a different kind of signal was given. A harsh gong sound reverberated off every available surface, vibrating the air. All the fighters dropped from the sky as if they were all mere flies sprayed with bug killer. The two princes entered the arena area.

Gohan was wearing a long, flowing red cape over his tight black sparring pants. He wore shoes and wristbands, but that was about all. As he neared the actual tiled fighting arena, he tossed his cape to the ground. He climbed onto the surface and turned around, glaring at most of the gathered fighters. When his eyes fell onto 17, the glare deepened. But when they landed on Piccolo, the expression turned into more of a predatory grin.

Goten wore no shirt as well, but did not wear a cape either. His shoes barely made any sound as he stepped onto the tiled floor. He did not look at anyone other than his brother, though he was highly conscious of everyone in the room. He hated going out in public without being fully clothed, but he hated ruining his clothes when he sparred with his brother, too. So, he gave a little to save his wardrobe. His tail snapped in the air once behind him before it wrapped itself securely around his middle. He noticed that Gohan's tail teased behind the other prince, as if daring anyone to even try. Goten's eyes narrowed dangerously. He would show Gohan that he should be more interested in fighting rather than flirting.

"So, little brother, ready to fight?" Gohan asked, loud enough that everyone in their growing audience could hear. From where he stood, he could see Piccolo and 17 watching. His focus was on the green man. Piccolo was the mystery. Piccolo was the prize.

"I am always ready, your royal-ness," Goten replied. This was the only place he allowed himself to openly taunt his older brother. It was a treat to see how the older demi-saiyajin's smile turned sour. Of course he was ruining Gohan's fun, but it was about the only thing he'd enjoy during this. He was about to have his ass handed to him, and he knew it.

And then the fight was on.

Piccolo watched from where he stood, his arms folded over his chest. He noticed when 17 walked up to stand right beside him, amused when the android took a rather familiar pose, one that his alter was better known for. The black ponytail did not move as the human-looking male said, "It is considered a rare treat to see the princes fight."

"Are they really going to fight?" Piccolo asked, not really needing an answer. He could sense the power levels the two were displaying, even without the irritating scouters that it seemed everyone and their dog owned around the palace. He watched as Gohan started as the attacker, throwing punches faster than some of the audience could watch. He took notice of how Goten was defending himself, throwing in persistent attacks that did minimal damage. Of the two, Piccolo thought that Gohan was the stronger, but Goten was the smarter. Goten had a chance, but only if he kept the other from pounding him into the ground. Each offensive attack left his defenses weakened. Piccolo grimaced as Goten unwittingly overextended his arm, leaving a wide opening of which Gohan happily took advantage.

Goten flew back and crashed to the tiled floor of the arena with the severity of the attack. Gohan wasn't pulling his punches, which was a good thing as much as it was a bad thing. It meant that he -had- been hurting his big brother. It meant that Gohan -was- trying. And it meant that Goten didn't have that much time before his older brother finished him off. All in all, this whole situation sucked. Growling, Goten jumped up and away from a super fast, yet non-lethal chi attack. He was back in the fight, moving faster than he had ever done before. He was angry. Confused. Desperate. And his brother was there, laughing at him. NO MORE!

Gohan's grin faltered at the sudden ferocity of his younger brother's attack. He ducked down to avoid Goten's fists and elbows that rained down on him. He had to keep moving, otherwise another attack might catch him. He thought that Goten understood, this was just to gain Piccolo's attention. A sudden spike of pain that hurt a lot more than any of the previous others did told him that Goten wasn't playing. Gohan's grin went from playful to fierce. At last here was a real fight!

"As you can see, they are truly fighting," the android guard answered softly, somewhat taken aback by how fierce this fight was. This level of heated combat was usually reserved only for planet purging, wars, or the tournament. Synthetic lips twitched upward in interest, almost forming a smug smile. This was something he would have to tell Trunks about.

"Gohan wasn't expecting the level of this fight," Piccolo stated softly to his guard, knowing that everyone in the room, including the two combatants, were too occupied with the fight to pay any kind of attention to what he was doing or saying. He took note of how 17 seemed to glance at him and then back at the fight. "See the way his eyes keep dancing around, as if he doesn't know what to expect from his opponent. Goten doesn't usually take the offensive, does he? He isn't that good at it. He's overextending his left, and he doesn't use his right leg all that much. He should diversify. Gohan's picked up on that fact. He's going to aim for what he thinks is Goten's weak points. If he's not careful, he's going to end up hurt."

17 was about to ask to whom his charge was referring, when he saw Gohan aim a low kick at his brother's right knee.

The attack never landed. Goten caught the leg in mid-motion, a confident smirk on his face. "Watch it, highness. Don't want to sink too low."

Gohan glared at his younger brother, but the eye contact was severed when a brown tail came out of nowhere and slapped the younger demi-saiyajin hard across the face. The attack did not do too much damage, but it allowed Gohan the opportunity to escape his predicament and fall into the offensive.

"Pride comes before a fall, little brother," Gohan fairly snarled. He didn't hold anything back and attacked his offensive opponent with everything he had in him. He was outraged that his brother, his own brother, had tried to mock him. Him! In public! And in front of Lord Piccolo, no less! He grinned as he saw blood fly from a laceration on Goten's face, but that grinning was nothing more than a baring of teeth.

Goten landed with a heavy thump on the tile floor, too worn and beaten to do more than groan. His red blood spilled onto the otherwise white tiles. He felt more than saw his older brother's dark shadow fall over him as Gohan gave one last kick. Goten cried out in pain, curling in on himself. Daring to look up, he was rewarded with the slightest satisfaction at seeing Gohan with a bloody mouth and a black eye. 'I did that.' Goten glared up at his brother in impotent anger. He was hurt. He wasn't going to lie about it.

"You staying down?" Gohan rasped as he panted. He hadn't had this much of a workout in a long, long time. He didn't want to have gotten carried away though, seeing as he rather liked it. He hoped the younger demi-saiyajin would heal soon, but knew that the blood-splattered spy wasn't going to be offering up any more of a fight. No matter what he said.

"Yeah," Goten replied, coughing up blood. He realized that one of his lungs had to have been pierced. He hated when that happened. He'd have to go to the tanks, and he absolutely hated doing that. All those pesky doctors running their hands over him. And then he was still left with the foul taste of the rejuvenation liquid in his mouth for about a week afterwards. Added to that, it seemed he was the only one who was able to taste the stuff, so no one believed him when he said it tasted horribly.

"I think you should go see the medics," Gohan said as he crouched down by his brother. He grimaced as he realized just how far the game had gone. "I'll call for them."

"Don't bother," Piccolo's deep voice called out as he approached the side of the arena, easily stepping onto the white tiles. The others in the audience were flabbergasted at the display of bravado, but Piccolo had never really cared for the opinions of idiots. "I'll take him. He'll get there faster."

Gohan's eyes narrowed. "I don't think so. He doesn't need your help."

"Yes he does," Piccolo countered as he continued his advance. "You broke two of his ribs, and the tip of his tail. I believe you also broke his foot and ankle. He won't be able to walk, and I can get him to the medical center faster than one of them could get here and get back."

"Why bother?" Goten gasped from his place on the ground. "A little pain never hurt anybody."

"I don't like to see others suffer needlessly," Piccolo said as he looked directly at Gohan.

Gohan glared for a moment, then sighed as he stood up. He didn't think that the other man was being honest, but he couldn't exactly call him a liar. There was no proof. But he did volunteer. Normally, he would not have allowed a guest to do as Piccolo was. However, with the amount of witnesses, the green man would have no escape if anything were to happen to the younger prince. His volunteering was suspicious, nevertheless. Gohan just hoped it wasn't because he really was as soft as he claimed. Otherwise, the man might not be as creative in bed as the prince hoped. "And here I was hoping that you'd be willing to get... physical with me. I guess I'll have to find someone else to... spar with."

"So sorry to decline your invitation, but I'm sure 17 would enjoy the chance," Piccolo suggested as he simply picked up Goten. The green warrior kept his eyes on Gohan the entire time he was in the arena, knowing that the other was not to be trusted.

Gohan's eyes narrowed dangerously. Yet another public slight. What was this? Did someone tell everyone that it was okay to insult the royal heir today without informing the intended victim? Bodies were going to be broken for the injustice of it! Smiling graciously, he nodded his head to the android, accepting the offer. Well, if he couldn't have the one he wanted, he could at least take it out on someone he didn't like. He didn't know why he disliked 17; it was just something that he had always felt. Almost as if his father trusted the android more than him, which was reasonable, but still highly irritating. "As you like, Lord Piccolo. Perhaps some other time we might play together."

"Perhaps," Piccolo replied, which was as diplomatic as he was going to be in that moment. He quickly took off towards the medical labs, moving so fast that others, including 17 didn't even see him leave.

Goten had molded himself to Piccolo's chest immediately, trying to alleviate some of his pain. His glazed eyes barely noticed when they left or when they arrived. All he could see was the green of Piccolo's face. And then there was the cold of a table at his back, and medics all around him. He kept his eyes vaguely focused on Piccolo though. He did his best to ignore the hands that danced over his bruised flesh, trying to keep his attention occupied with something more interesting. He was aware of being taken to a tank and set inside of it. Someone put a breather on him, filling his lungs with putrid scents that were supposed to help him heal. Just before the tank lid closed, he saw Piccolo come forward.

"This will give you ample time to reflect. I suggest you make the most of it. Think about what I asked you the other day. Think about who you are. And what you want," Piccolo demanded quietly.

Goten nodded his head, too tired and sore and defeated to fight off anyone else. He would do as the other commanded. He was used to following orders. He closed his eyes tiredly as he allowed his head to fall back. The door closed, and the liquid quickly filled up the chamber.

"Sir?" One of the medics came up to Piccolo, her clipboard in hand. "What are you still doing here?"

"I'm waiting for him to get out," Piccolo stated rather bluntly. "How long?"

"Oh, well, since it's Prince Goten, I'd say he has only a few hours of actual tank time," she answered, somewhat taken aback. More because he was actually waiting for the prince rather than the tone of voice. Working at the palace, one tended to become accustomed to rudeness.

Piccolo nodded his head and went to an out of the way corner and leaned against the joint of the walls. He had time. He could wait. He needed to talk with the little prince. That was, after all, the reason he volunteered for this. Well, one of the reasons at any rate.

The dark-haired demi-saiyajin floated in the tank. Comparing his injuries to previous times he'd had to go into the tank, he figured he had about three hours or so. Three long hours with just him and his thoughts. Why couldn't they figure out a way to knock themselves unconscious for this?

'This is ridiculous,' he thought to himself. 'Who am I? What do I want? How am I supposed to answer questions like these? How is -anyone- supposed to answer questions like these? Aren't these rhetorical?'

Maybe he'd consider those later. Currently, the most pressing issue on his mind was the green man he knew to be standing mere feet away from him in the room outside of the tank. Why had Piccolo volunteered to bring him here? It was most confusing. He was such a mystery, wasn't he? Normally, Goten didn't mind a few mysteries. They could stay that way; it was fine by him. But Piccolo was an ambiguity he wanted to decipher.

He was strong, and Goten knew that for fact. The way he'd picked him up like he'd weighed nothing was certainly telling of that. But there was a kindness there, something he would usually find uncommon in a man of strength. It set him apart from anyone he'd ever known before. But the way he'd spoken to Gohan was also revealing. The green male obviously didn't want anything to do with the other prince. And that was strange. Who wouldn't have bent any way they could've to please the preferred brother? Yet Piccolo had defied him by choosing to escort Goten to the medical lab rather than play Gohan's game. Yes, he definitely was a puzzle.

He'd felt so secure in Piccolo's arms when he was carrying him. He didn't mind the pain. He didn't mind that some stranger was helping him or that the other weaker fighters had seen his frailty in injury. And that was so unlike himself. Typically, he would've balked at the idea that he'd accept assistance so eagerly. But it was Piccolo. The man he... Goten suddenly caught himself. What was he just about to admit to himself? No, no, that couldn't be right! It couldn't! He'd never allowed himself to do anything of the sort. Why now? He barely knew the man. There couldn't be enough there for him to have...

'Say it,' an inner voice commanded him. 'Say it. Say you're in love with him. Say that you, the mighty Prince Goten, the man who promised himself to never display a weakness like having emotions, to never allow yourself to lower yourself like that, are in love with Piccolo. Say it!'

'I like him,' he finally confessed. 'That doesn't mean I love him. But... I wouldn't mind exploring the option with him. He's very... attractive. Strong, not just of body but also of mind. Wise. I think... May the gods help me, I am in love with him.'

The young prince suddenly felt as if heavy bonds that had locked his heart down had disintegrated. Did his confession mean that much to him? Had this really been weighing him down so greatly? Yes, it felt amazing to have admitted it. But where did this leave him? Surely the other man wouldn't return these feelings. And what about Gohan? He would never betray his brother in such a manner. Unquestionably, he was loyal to his brother, despite the fact that he didn't particularly like him nor his actions. Goten didn't want to discredit his loyalty by chasing after his brother's current pursuit.

'But damn him and his fixation,' Goten cursed inwardly. 'He doesn't want Piccolo; he wants his body. He wouldn't even realize what he was missing! Gohan isn't worthy, not this time. He would never love Piccolo. He couldn't. He doesn't have it in him.'

Feeling justified, Goten let his mind wander to other things. He could now answer one of Piccolo's questions. What did he want? Piccolo's love. Would he tell the other male that? Hell no. He'd have to come up with something else. What else did he want, anyway? Rarely did he think so much about himself; he was just so used to not getting anything that he'd learned to not want anything. That was something that was beginning to irk him. Why couldn't he get what he wanted? Was he so undeserving? No way. He hadn't done anything worse than anyone else might have, relatively speaking.

What did he want? Respect, trust, to belong. Belonging... He'd always wanted to belong, to fit in. But he never had. That was how he'd ended up as the Royal Inquisitor, hidden away from the world in the dark dungeons of the palace. He was too quiet, too calculating, too smart. Not outgoing. Not brash. Not bold or exceptionally brave. He was strong and an excellent fighter, but he did not run out into battle like his family; he was more content to strategize. And this was useful to his father and his brother. But it set him apart, like he wasn't really part of their little 'club'. Excluded. But it wasn't as if he didn't help matters either. He wasn't all that similar to them, and he didn't always want to be. They were practically whores, sleeping with whomever they wished whenever they wished, taking it by force if necessary. Goten hated that. He had kept himself pure in that way. No one had ever touched him intimately and vice versa. It was Gohan's favorite joke about him. How he hated that joke!

All at once, everything became clear to him, floating there in the tank. 'I want to stop pretending,' Goten announced to himself. 'I want to stop pretending that everything's okay, that -I'm- okay. I want to stop pretending that I don't care about anything. I don't want to be afraid of that. I don't want to be just half of a man. I want to be better. I want to be good enough to earn Piccolo's respect. His trust. And maybe, someday, his love. I want to belong... with him.'

The rejuvenation chamber began to drain, and Goten regained his ability to move. The medics detached all of the sensors from his body, removing him from the tank. They swiftly dried him and then exited just as quickly, leaving the prince alone with Piccolo. The tall male stood in the corner of the room, leaning against one of the walls. "Feeling better?" he queried.

"I'm fine," Goten answered. He picked up the new uniform the medics had left on the table for him and began dressing himself. Noting that Piccolo had turned away as if to provide him with some privacy, he clothed himself rapidly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Piccolo responded. He saw the younger man hesitate, opening his mouth to say something but then shutting it promptly. "Is there something else you wanted to say?"

"Yes, but... I'd like to leave the infirmary first," stated the prince hesitantly. As soon as he said it, he began to worry slightly. He wasn't sure where to take them.

"Lead the way, then."

They walked in silence until they'd finally reached their destination. Piccolo was somewhat amused by the prince's choice. "This is an interesting choice of location," the green male remarked.

Goten smirked, striding slowly into the isolated garden. "Why not? The place that witnessed the first time you kicked my ass. Here is hoping it will be the last, eh? I thought it was rather appropriate."

Stopping somewhere in the middle of the wild foliage, Piccolo prompted the demi-saiyajin. "You had something to say?"

"Yes." Goten swallowed hard, unsure of how to proceed. The whole walk there, he'd been trying to formulate the words, all of the things he wanted to say, but at great length, only one thing came to mind. "Why? Why did you personally bring me to the medical lab?"

"We need to talk, without anyone else around," stated the tall male.

"You... wanted to talk to me," the demi-saiyajin repeated. Why was he so... frightened? How was it that the exotic warrior had such a... devastating effect on his mentality? Was it because he was attracted to him? Or was it some strange power that allowed him to be a better warrior?

"Yes." Piccolo folded his arms across his chest. Stepping very closely to the dark-haired man, he asked, "Have you figured out who you are yet?"

He shook his head. Being so close to Piccolo really was unnerving. His tall, formidable presence was overwhelming... and exciting. He suddenly longed to be wrapped up in his arms again. "No. Not yet. But I have been giving it some thought."

"And did you figure out what you want?"

"Yes," came the immediate answer without a moment of hesitation.

Piccolo quirked an eyebrow ridge. He was a bit surprised at this. Had the prince actually used his time in the rejuvenation chamber to think about his words? This was indisputably progressive for the younger male. "And what have you decided?" he asked.

"I--I, well," Goten stumbled. How could he put this? What were the right words? He didn't want to sound ridiculous. He would just have to settle for selective honesty. In a very soft voice, he said, "I've been pretending all my life that everything is all right, and that I'm fine with it, to the point that I believed it. The pretense became the reality. But now... I remembered that I was pretending, and I don't want to pretend anymore. I want to be better than that. I want to be worthy."

Goten had never felt more naked or vulnerable in his life than he did in that moment. Of course, he hadn't admitted that he was in love with the man to whom he was speaking, but the words he had just spoken were indicative enough. No one knew that part of him, the part that hadn't really existed until he'd met Piccolo. He stood there, waiting, hoping that Piccolo wasn't going to laugh at him.

Piccolo didn't know what to say to that. He was baffled by his words. Had Goten really changed so much, so quickly? And all on his own, with no help from anyone? What had caused him to make such a turnaround? As the questions continued to surface, suspicion crept into Piccolo's mind. Changes like this were never so sudden, especially with a lack of assistance. Perhaps something else was at work here. More than one source had informed him of Goten's deceptive nature, and he wouldn't put it past the smaller male to try to deceive him. Was the demi-saiyajin lying to him?

Piccolo sought out the dark orbs of the younger man and was startled further by what he saw. These were not the eyes he'd looked into the last time he was so close to him, the eyes full of malice and arrogance; there was an earnest clarity now. They still did not sparkle with warmth and joy, but they no longer held the disdain and superiority they once had. Whether this meant that Goten was being honest or just an incredible actor, Piccolo wasn't absolutely sure, but he was oddly more inclined to believe he was being sincere. Finally, he responded, "That's a good start. There's some hope for you yet."

"Thank you," came the reply. Piccolo hadn't laughed. Goten sighed in relief. In fact, it seemed Piccolo had taken what he'd said quite seriously. That was more than for what the demi-saiyajin could have asked.

Originally, Piccolo had intended to tell the prince to stop following him, to leave him alone, but now... How could he tell him to stay away when he was making so much progress? "If you'd ever like to discuss further what you want, or if you decide you finally know who you are, you can always come to me," Piccolo offered. Then with a smirk, he added, "Instead of just following me around all day."

Goten paled at the green male's words. "How--how did you know?" he asked.

The smirk grew a little wider. It was nice to see Goten squirming a bit though not too uncomfortably. He looked rather charming like that. Perhaps he should continue to put the youth on the spot. Goten seemed to be his actual age when he looked confused or worried. "I can always sense your presence, Goten," Piccolo stated.

Goten flushed at that. What was he supposed to say to that? But then, he thought about it for a moment longer, and he paled again.

"You-you-you... You can -what-?!" Piccolo had known all along! The younger man was positively mortified. Was he mocking him? Was he making fun of him by pointing out that he'd known? Maybe. But maybe not. The smirk was one of amusement, not mockery. A tiny bud of hope grew inside Goten. Piccolo had known... and still took him to the infirmary, still wanted to talk to him. Was there a chance for him?

"Sense your presence," the tall male repeated softly, almost like a dark whisper in the forgotten garden. He stepped closer, impossibly closer, almost touching the younger male. "I know when you're near. Your energy is familiar enough to me that I can sense it and define it as yours."

"That's some trick," the demi-saiyajin commented thickly. His eyes were large, round pools, shimmering in the dim light of the garden. He took a reflexive step back, and ran up against an unyielding plant. Flowers fell into his hair, and he absently noticed that they were of the same kind that he had picked the night before. His eyes scanned the aggressive male from head to feet back up again.

"Maybe you'll learn it someday," the visiting warrior encouraged. Piccolo was having way too much fun, more fun than this little exchange really called for. He took another step forward, stopping when the flowers brushed up against his turban. All he was doing was pretending to be menacing, well, not really pretending, but it was having the desired effect. He gazed down on Goten's face, letting his eyes linger on Goten's mouth as the smaller male licked his lips.

"You would teach me?" Goten asked, very proud that he didn't squeak, though it did come out a bit too breathy. He wished he could be commanding right about now. Demand that Piccolo teach him.... He flushed deep crimson at what he just asked, but... Gods, why was all of his blood rushing -away- from his brain when he needed it the most? Why was it deciding to pool in one part of his anatomy that he really, really didn't need to concentrate on?

Piccolo looked on as heartbeat by rapid heartbeat Goten's breathing turned a bit more ragged, his harsh pants turning just a bit more jagged. He wondered what Goten sounded like during sex if the young prince got this worked up by just this; but he pushed that wayward thought to some part of his back brain, someplace where he knew it wouldn't leave him, but it wouldn't present itself until he was alone to think about it.

Goten could feel his heart pounding in his chest like a caged slave desperate to get out. He took deep breaths, cursing mentally as all he could smell was the after flavors of the tank's aroma. His shaking caused more of the flowers to fall onto him, drifting down a lot slower than anything had the right to move. His eyes never left Piccolo, though. He couldn't take his eyes off of the larger male, but he was allowed to skim down the form in front of him. Of course, doing so had the small problem of letting his eyes focus on -other- parts of the man.

"Perhaps," Piccolo replied in a mimicry of what he had told Gohan earlier, yet his seductive tone of voice implied a completely different answer this time.

"I bet there's a lot you could teach me," Goten said as he tried to get his mind to think. Unfortunately, all he could think about was how the sheets he had woken up in looked a lot like Piccolo's cape. His eyes focused on that and wondered what would happen if he reached out and touched the stuff. More importantly, what would it be like to be wrapped up in the material... and nothing else? His tail lashed out behind him in agitation.

"Maybe you'll get a chance to find that out," Piccolo replied huskily, enjoying the sight of Goten's eyes widening just a fraction more as he deepened his voice. The younger man's eyes were almost completely black, the pupils had dilated so much. And it seemed that the prince's brown tail was highly uncontrollable at present time. He made sure to take more care in the way the appendage moved from now on, as they seemed to say something.

Goten nearly choked, thinking that the taller male had been reading his mind and heard his thoughts, but then he realized it was just an answer to the previous statement. He doubted his skin would ever return to its natural color, especially as he caught Piccolo staring at his tail. Gods, he thought he'd die right there, pressed up against a tree with flowers in his hair! "I'd love to."

"You could use a little whipping into shape," Piccolo said, shifting his stance a bit, looming over the other. Goten had no place to run, but it didn't matter. Piccolo couldn't advance any more without being completely on top of the younger prince. Though, a part of him said that that wasn't such a bad idea. Again, Piccolo shoved the thought to the back of his mind along with the others of its ilk.

"Are you that good?" Goten asked. He didn't know why he was asking that, and didn't even know what it was in reference to. Was it fighting? Or something equally as carnal but ultimately more... different? He needed air. He needed water. He needed... to get a grip on his self control. He really needed a cold shower. Something with ice cubes in it, because that was about the only way he was going to calm down tonight, without touching himself. And the few times in his past that he -had- masturbated, it always left him feeling... disgusted with himself. He didn't want that... not after this.

"Possibly," Piccolo murmured, leaning, ever so slightly bending towards the other, but not so much that it was overtly noticeable. He noticed that the tail had stopped moving, curling up around the tree behind the young prince as if it were a lifeline, and the only thing keeping him together. Piccolo could understand that. He was not completely immune to the game they were playing. He was just better at controlling himself. Controlling the situation. He wasn't a mind reader, but he understood how to control others to a degree. "But you'd have to judge for yourself... if we get that far."

"Whatever it takes," Goten whispered. Gods, he wanted to kiss the other male. He wanted to just lean against the large expanse of green chest, and drag Piccolo down for a long, hungry kiss. The kind of kiss he'd seen his father give Bulma a few times. The kind that he had seen some of the lesser household share between mates. He would be willing to sell the secrets of the family treasury if he could just... 'Gods!'

Piccolo knew he had to stop soon, though he was loathe to do so. Goten looked so flushed, so expectant. Dark, glazed eyes flickered all around, so Piccolo recaptured the prince's attention. Pushing away from the younger male, Piccolo gave Goten space to breathe. "But you still need to work on getting what you want first."

"I understand," the prince replied softly. He watched as the taller man moved away, regretting the space and wishing to close it again. Goten stepped forward as Piccolo retreated. He wished he was able to actually smell the other male. Remembering the tank also brought other things to mind. He shuffled his feet a little, unwittingly reminding Piccolo of the Goten from his world. Goten had something on his mind, something to test whether or not he should even try to get everything he wanted. But how to word it properly... "Can I ask you something?"

"You may ask me anything you wish, but I may not always answer it," stated the green man, echoing the tones of just a moment before, but on a much less... intimidating scale.

"Do you hold my brother, Prince Gohan, in high regards?" He had to know. This was one question, one of many, that Goten needed to know before he got his hopes up any higher than they already were. His blood returned to his head, but only so that it could pulse in his ears. His mind still wasn't working right.

For the first time, Piccolo appeared apprehensive to the youngest demi-saiyajin. It wasn't terribly obvious, no, but he could still see the clenching of his jaw and the flash in his eyes. Piccolo replied diplomatically, "It would be treasonous for me to answer that question."

"I didn't ask if you were loyal to him, just if you liked him," Goten pointed out. "And I swear to you that I would keep the answer to myself, and we would never speak of it again."

"Why do you want to know?" Piccolo inquired back, eyes slightly narrowed.

Goten chewed lightly on his lower lip. "I--I was injured at the arena, but not deaf. I heard how you spoke to him. Few people rarely have such confidence. Actually, none, now that I think about it."

The confident smirk returned. Goten held his stance as the larger, more powerful warrior stalked towards him. Bending forward, Piccolo placed his mouth very near to the demi-saiyajin's ear. "Not particularly, no," he answered. "I don't... like him."

Pulling back, the tall man noticed how flushed Goten's face was, how he trembled very slightly. He could see the rapid pulse beating in Goten's throat. It was rather flattering to have such an effect on the young man, something that had only happened in one other person. That was long ago, and a different person. Which reminded him, "In fact, it was partially the reason why I escorted you to the infirmary. I did not wish to spend any more time in his presence."

Goten's heart sank. "Oh. So I was just an excuse."

"Partially. But I do not mind your company. As long as I can -see- you." The smirk intensified, becoming smug, on Piccolo's face. There was no going back. Both in time and it seemed in space. But there was a chance to move forward. "If you have nothing better to do during the day than follow me, I suggest you just join me. I don't need another shadow."

"All right," Goten nodded, a small smile curving into place. "I can do that."

They stood mere inches apart, a comfortable silence extending between them. 'It's strange to be content just gazing at someone without saying anything,' the demi-saiyajin thought. 'Just peculiar.' But all too soon, the silence was broken by approaching footsteps. The smile disappeared from Goten's face immediately when he saw Android 17 poke his head into the garden.

"Here you are," announced the raven-haired man. His usually perfect hair was mussed and disheveled, and his clothes were torn and a bit bloodied. Gohan must have given him quite the sparring match. "I've been looking for you for well over an hour."

"We had matters to discuss," replied the tall, green male. He walked towards 17 and motioned for Goten to come with him. "Prince Goten will be joining us today."

"Of course," 17 said, bowing slightly. He moved out of the archway and headed down the hall with Piccolo and Goten just behind him. His head was tilted at a slight angle so that he could listen to whatever might transpire between the two. The dark-haired guard was curious as to why Piccolo would help the young prince, and why would he want to make -friends- with him, too. It made no sense to him. But... perhaps it would become clearer soon. He would tell Trunks of what happened, and perhaps the lavender demi-saiyajin might have a few more answers.

A small smile crept onto Goten's face. He had actually been invited to accompany Piccolo. His heart continued to pound in his chest, but it was now of a different beat. He had hope.