Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Kingdom Come ❯ Chapter 09: Fool for Love ( Chapter 9 )

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

WARNING: See Chapter 1

Kingdom Come
~Chapter 9The screen clicked off, yet the person who received the message swore that dark eyes remained behind, to haunt her. Bulma closed her eyes as her head fell forward. Her hair fell to curtain her face away from the world around her, but the illusion was pushed aside with a powdered blue hand.

"Mistress Bulma?" Zarbon asked softly, his golden eyes shining with unspoken concern.

"He's almost home," she replied, leaning her head into his palm, secure with his touch. Safe with him near her. Tiny diamonds of tears slipped from her eyes, slipping onto the cool hand that cupped her face. "He says that I should look my best for when he arrives in four hours. He says he wants to see me waiting for him on the landing field. I am to wear the blue dress. And I am not to leave his side tonight, not even while at the mandatory party that will be held in his honor. I am to be his decoration, his crown jewel. Again."

Zarbon heard about half of what she said, before his concern drowned out his hearing. He knelt down beside her, pulling her close only slightly, but it was enough for her to fall onto his shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed into the curve of shoulder and neck. Amber eyes closed in jealousy and sympathy. He wrapped his own arms around her, bringing her close, even as he buried his face into her lovely blue hair. "Shh, Mistress. I am here. Nothing will happen to you."

He repeated his pledge to her over and over, like a mantra, until her crying finally subsided. He stroked her hair, rubbed her back, anything and everything to touch her and to sooth her. It was all that he could do. Finally, when she caught her breath, and calmed down, she snuggled deeper into his embrace.

"Thank you, Zarbon," she whispered from where she rested. "Thank you for being here."

"Where else would I be, Mistress?" Zarbon asked.

"Heh. Yeah," Bulma replied. She leaned back, grinning even though her face was tear-stained. "But I mean it anyway. You're very good to me. I'm glad you're here."

Zarbon blushed at her praise. They stayed like that for a few more moments, embracing, before she sighed with resignation, signaling the end to the pleasant contact.

"I suppose I should start getting ready for him," Bulma said dryly.

"You know he loves you," Zarbon intoned as he stood up and away from the human woman.

"In a way, yes, he does love me," Bulma answered. "But I don't love him. I don't think I ever could."

"I know," Zarbon smiled. They shared a look between them that bespoke of other things that he knew, things that had never been said, and never would be said. Things that were both forbidden… and real.

***

The grand chamber was filled with people, most reeking of testosterone and alcohol. Lord Kakarrot sat upon his throne, his lovely jewel sitting beside him. He gazed out over the gathered fighters that mingled close to the walls and doors. In the center of the room, there were several dancers, beautiful people who were there strictly for his pleasure. A brown tail was curled lazily around him. But the great Lord Kakarrot's eyes often drifted away from them to settle upon Bulma, brown orbs softening somewhat. "Do you care for anything to eat or drink, lovely one?"

"No, thank you, milord," Bulma replied, her blue eyes staring straight ahead. Behind and to the side of her chair, she could feel Zarbon's ever-present warmth there, giving her strength. She looked out into the crowd, paying attention to all the ones her son had described to her. She was very aware the moment the green man and his two humans entered the room. As she looked over each one, her breath hitched slightly as she saw the taller of the two humans. He had to be Yamcha, as she could see Vegeta standing right behind him, guarding him viciously. Well, she could certainly see why Vegeta might be taken with the man. He was lovely.

"Is everything all right?" Lord Kakarrot asked, genuine concern lacing his voice. He brushed Zarbon's worried presence away with a wave of his hand, but his eyes never left Bulma's face, so he did not see the flash of resentment and anger that danced upon the azure man's face that quickly washed away.

Bulma looked at the scarred warrior, catching his eyes ever so briefly before she smiled and turned to look at Lord Kakarrot, her face alight with an inner radiance that he had rarely seen. "Yes. Of course. Everything is just fine. Just fine."

Her eyes swept the group again. Bulma so enjoyed seeing the guards -- if she had to see them -- in their dress uniforms. She admired the clean lines of the black pants and knee boots, as well as the mandarin-collared, cropped jackets. The uniforms reminded her of the old earth military uniforms; they were so clean and dapper, not the cold armor and bodysuits they normally wore, though these were just as formfitting.

Just then, the one she decided was Yamcha moved completely into view, and she got a good look at him. 'Very handsome indeed,' she thought to herself. 'And in a tuxedo! I haven't seen a tuxedo in forever. Oh, and the short guy is wearing one too! But how weird for them to be wearing orange cummerbunds. Not a very attractive color.'

Finally, she gazed at the tallest being of the group, whom she assumed to be none other than the infamous Piccolo her son described. The turban and cape he'd mentioned must have been nixed for the formal party, as the green man wore baggy black pants and an indigo top similar to the guards' jackets though ending mid-hip rather than at the waist. She could see how Piccolo could be viewed as intimidating... as well as handsome. "So, Lord, who is the large green man?" Bulma inquired innocently.

"Why?" The Saiyajin ruler asked, suspicious. And a bit jealous.

"Well, usually, 17 is beside you, guarding you, and being somewhat underfoot. Now, he is behind the green man. I was wondering who he is to be offered such… courtesy. Is he some invited delegate? Perhaps a powerful Royal from some far distant planet?" she answered, her eyes downcast and sliding away from him, as if she were hurt at his tone. In truth, she knew the moment she saw him who he was, but he didn't know that. Besides, this would offer her more information, intelligence that her son would not be able to gather.

"Oh, heh. Yeah," Lord Kakarrot smiled at her. He raised his wine glass to a barely clad maid, demanding a refill. She nearly tripped over herself in order to do as her lord and master wished. "True. The green man is Demon Lord Piccolo. He is a visitor, brought in by Jeice. I am allowing him and his two human pets to stay here, as a sort of joke to the Ginyu force… Hmm… I wonder where Ginyu is. I haven't seen him all day. Oh, well, he will show up, the mongrel." The royal stretched a bit and sighed. "Anyway, we don't know much about him or his humans. I can only assume Goten is working on it. I swear that boy is always working on something. It's unnatural. Just as well, I suppose. Keeps him out of my hair. But that Piccolo is to participate in the tournament." A contemptuous smirk spread across Kakarrot's face. "We'll see how well he fares against the likes of a super-saiyajin."

The galactic ruler tilted his head to the side, somewhat confused, but then turned his gaze to the many attendees of the party. He saw his sons, each on halves of the room. Goten, he saw, was wearing the formal uniform for his Royal Inquisitor position, his tail wrapped as tightly around his middle as ever. 'All business, isn't he,' he thought to himself. But he had to admit that at least his younger son wore the clothing well. It differed from a regular guard dress uniform in that the jacket was slightly longer with red and gold piping, and he wore a thick crimson sash with gold trim around his waist. Nodding in approval he sought out the favored Gohan. Lord Kakarrot chuckled a bit as soon as his eyes found the elder son. The tight leather pants, tall boots, and crimson sash mirrored his brother's garb, save for the leather of the pants, but the long vest left open baring his muscular torso and arms was truly Gohan. His tail curled behind him, nonchalant and very inviting a target. 'Looks like someone is out to find a proper bed partner,' Kakarrot thought smugly. 'Would that his brother would do so eventually.'

The emperor looked on with some amusement as Gohan took notice of when Piccolo entered the room. A small smile danced across the monarch's features as he realized on whom Gohan had his sights set. The grin increased as Piccolo seemed to take notice, and then proceeded to locate Goten.Piccolo glanced around when he and the others came in. He took special care to notice Lord Kakarrot and Bulma, but more importantly, he noticed Gohan and Goten. He immediately went to stand with Goten, who was alone and somehow managing to maintain his privacy, as if there was a two-foot boundary between him and the rest of the gathered masses. Gohan, who was across the room, was standing in the middle of a crowd, and it seemed he was telling a story.

The dark-haired android kept skimming the crowd, looking for trouble, as Piccolo led the way to Goten. The guard remained a small space behind, merely an observer. He hated parties. Too many people, and not nearly as much fun as they could have been.

Goten looked up as Piccolo approached, a small smile forming. "Greetings, Demon Lord Piccolo. How are you on this... fine evening?"

Piccolo raised an eyebrow at the formalness of the speech, but replied in kind. "I am well. And you, fair Prince Goten?"

Goten blushed scarlet at the 'fair' comment, his tail tightening its already death-grip around his waist. He ducked his head away, and then tried to cover the motion with a fake cough and a nod to the gathered warriors and courtesans. "I'm good. I've been watching the dancers."

Piccolo turned to view the small group of barely clad humanoids dancing in the center of the room. He tilted his head to the side as he watched their movements, listening to the harps in the background. He looked at each individual in turn, before turning his gaze back to Goten. "They dance very nicely, I would think."

Goten giggled, actually giggled, as he flicked his gaze back to the large green man standing beside him. "Not those dancers. The courtesans, the politicians, the warriors, all the people trying to get Father's attention. Or Gohan's. Those dancers. Trust me, the ones doing the actual dancing are far better at their jobs than these fools who are looking for favors."

A bar maid came by, holding a platter of drinks in one hand and a platter of food in the other. Goten replaced his empty glass with a filled one and grabbed a small handful of assorted goodies. As she left, Piccolo stepped out of her path and closer to Goten. The movement did not go unnoticed.

"So, um," Goten stuttered, not wanting to move from where he was standing, but also very much aware of where Piccolo was standing. "Why didn't you grab a drink?"

"I do not drink alcohol," Piccolo replied. "How many drinks have you had?"

"Actually, I'm on my last one. This will make five. I don't normally drink more than that at any given party. It dulls the senses," Goten said as he took a sip from his glass.

"Yes. It does," the taller warrior acknowledged. "You were telling me about the party attendees. Who were you watching as I came in?"

"Watching?" Goten blinked, looked at Piccolo, blushed, and then looked away. Gathering his addled wits, he looked out over the crowd, too embarrassed to admit that he had simply been waiting for the green man to arrive. Scanning the crowd, he had to think fast to come up with a good lie. "Do you see the all-black dog-like man over there, standing beside Gohan?"

Piccolo looked out over the many people, already knowing who Goten was talking about, but also trying to not be obvious. Goten wasn't pointing the person out, so it was clear that he wasn't trying to draw attention to what was being said. "Yes, I see him."

Just at that moment, the large group of people surrounding Gohan let out a loud group laugh, drowning out all sound in the room for a few moments. Piccolo looked at some of their faces, and knew that what was being said wasn't really that funny, but they were too scared not to laugh. Too afraid of Gohan.

"I was just watching him trip over himself as he tried to impress Gohan," Goten shrugged, talking only loud enough to be heard over the noise in the room. "You see, since he's so similar to a dog, he has this problem with humping the guests' legs. I think we have a guard watching him at this function. No leg-humping tonight, I can assure you. Oh, well. It doesn't matter. He isn't important. Just don't let him near your legs."

"I'll keep that in mind," Piccolo responded.

Goten dared a glance up at the taller man's face and caught a bright flash of fangs from Piccolo's quick grin. He couldn't help but smile back. He quickly glanced away, taking a sip from his glass. His eyes roamed over the crowd, but he didn't take the time to actually look at anyone. He was trying to think of something witty to say, something that would impress the other male. 'But what impresses him?' he thought. 'Gohan hasn't succeeded yet, and he is -very- good at impressing people.' His brown eyes rested on a potted plant well across the room, and away from others, before he dared to glance back at Piccolo. 'Gods, he's stunning. Isn't he stunning? And how many glasses of wine have I had tonight? I think I might've underestimated a bit. I can't even get a coherent thought out of my head. Oh, hey! I had a drunken thought using the word 'coherent'. Maybe I'm not that drunk after all. And look at Piccolo. Isn't he just stunning?' Finally, he lightly remarked, "You look very nice."

"You'll have to thank my companions for that," the taller man replied. "They goaded me into choosing something different... for the occasion."

"I certainly will," smiled the demi-saiyajin before he took another sip from his glass. 'Damn right, I will.'

***

Behind and to the side of Bulma, Zarbon had a relatively unobstructed view of the party. If he so chose, he could sit and watch all the partygoers as they mingled, as they planned, as they plotted, as they began to die without even knowing it. But the powder-blue skinned man had eyes for none of the intricacies of the ritualistic dance of court life. No, Zarbon had other entertainment in his sights. Vegeta.

Zarbon was listening to the tone of voice Bulma was using, rather than the actual words. That would be what allowed him to know the moment she wanted anything. He knew the rest of the court thought of him as her pet, as her slave, rather than as her guard. He also knew he didn't give a damn about what they thought. Looking across the room, he saw a shorter, tailed version of himself in Vegeta. He knew the look, the slightly down-turned face, the eyes that constantly scanned the room more from protective jealousy than from duty, the fact that Vegeta was closer to Yamcha than any guard really needed to be just so he could feel safe in the knowledge that his charge was indeed there. Yes, Zarbon knew all the clues. He knew the reason for the actions, as they were twin to his own.

With a quick look at Lord Kakarrot, Zarbon went and snagged his Mistress a glass of wine. He set it beside her without either of them being the wiser for it, but when she saw the drink, she slid her eyes to meet his and smiled their secret smile. Zarbon inhaled deeply, ducking his head slightly as he turned to gaze out at the crowd again. Dimly, he wondered if Vegeta felt the same for Yamcha as he did for Bulma. 'What is it about the humans?'

Vegeta, for his part, felt a great many eyes on him, but he was used to their morbid curiosity. They came to see the saiyajin that had once been a prince and now was nothing. He could live with that. It didn't mean he had to like it, it just meant that he could live with it. Especially as the night wore on and Yamcha continued to glance at him, and then away with a blush. His furry tail was wrapped securely and unmoving around his waist. Would that his thoughts could be as controlled as his tail.

They shared the same room for the most part, but they no longer slept in the same bed. Now, Vegeta had a small cot tucked close to the door, but the room was larger, and he woke most mornings inhaling the familiar, desired scent of the human. Strangely enough, Yamcha clung to only one side of the bed, the sheets twisted and lumped on half the bed, while the other was pristine as if no one had ever disturbed it. It was almost as if Yamcha was saving that half for him, but Vegeta didn't think this was… quite possible.

The small guard looked up at the raised dais where Lord Kakarrot and Bulma, and her pet Zarbon, stood. But his eyes quickly returned to Yamcha as the human conversed and laughed with his shorter companion. How the two humans could enjoy themselves among the mass of degenerate scum surrounding them, Vegeta would never know. The once prince stepped closer to his charge, yet remained a decent distance away.

"Oh, man," Krillin snickered. "What on earth is -that-?"

Yamcha bit his lip to keep from busting out laughing at the creature to whom Krillin was referring. "I dunno, man. It looks like a giant kitchen sponge with legs!"

"That's Ambassador Marlek," commented 18. "Her world has a greater gravitation than this, hence her odd appearance here."

"That's a -chick-?!" the bald man asked just as he cracked up. "Man, I wish I had a camera!"

"And what is -she- wearing?" Yamcha inquired as he discreetly pointed out a rotund being wearing not much more than a few strategically placed metallic straps.

"-He-," 18 corrected, "is the Grand Duke of Harethan." She smirked a bit before continuing. "Unfortunately for their race, they -all- look like that. One can't really tell male from female unless they open their mouths."

"Huh?" Krillin sounded. "What's the difference between their mouths?"

"The women have no teeth."

"I guess the men are pretty lucky then, huh?" giggled Yamcha.

"Because they can bite?" the blonde android questioned, her face full of perplexity. She looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "I suppose the ability to bite would be an advantage in self-defense or whatever."

The two humans both exploded with laughter. "She-she, hee hee! She thinks-she thinks we meant biting! Ha HA!" Krillin managed to get out.

"Well, if not for biting, then what?" she asked. Krillin crooked his finger for her to come down to his level. Eyeing him warily, 18 bent down slightly leaning her head a bit when Krillin began whispering something in her ear. Suddenly, she bolted upright, staring at the two humans incredulously. "Why would anyone want to put their mouths there?!"

Krillin and Yamcha just continued to laugh, swiping new drinks each time the bar maid passed them.

Vegeta turned his head away from the blond android, smirking at the human's joke. Apparently, the lady's prowess in bed was somewhat overrated. He couldn't contain his soft laughter or the shaking of his head for too long, but at least she didn't see.

Krillin continued to chuckle to himself. Then, looking around, he said, "Hey, where's Piccolo? I haven't seen him since we got here."

"Oh, he's over there, talking to someone, but I can't see who. Ambassador Sponge is in the way," Yamcha replied, craning his neck some.

"He's speaking with Prince Goten," Vegeta stated. His view was unobstructed, despite his height.

"Prince Goten, huh?" Krillin repeated. "Piccolo isn't drunk, is he?"

"Nah, you know Piccolo doesn't drink, man," Yamcha answered.

"Good," the shorter male nodded. He took a sip from his drink then muttered, "Nobody'll be bedding him tonight, I guess."

"What was that?" Yamcha asked, his eyebrows high as he glanced down from the drink he was draining.

Krillin shrugged. Had he said that out loud? "I didn't say anything," he said. "You must be imagining things."

"Oh, okay." Yamcha jiggled the empty glass in his hand. "Where's one of those women with the drink trays? I'm all out, here. Yo, drink lady!"

Away from the group of humans and guards, Prince Gohan stood amongst many gathered warriors and politicians. He saw that Lord Piccolo and his brother were talking, which was all well and good to him. He hoped that Goten might be able to find out something that he could use to seduce the large green man with. In the mean time, there were other things that required his attention. His dark tail fluffed in excitement and annoyance.

The prince raised his hand in the air, forming a bright chi ball, before allowing it to simply shoot harmlessly into the air. The roof of the room was reinforced enough that such displays would not damage it, or at least, not too badly damage it. Raising his voice he called out loud enough to be heard, "On this night, we welcome back the Lord and Master of the Galactic Empire, Lord Kakarrot! He has been away from home for almost five months now, after several solo missions of planet purging. Congratulations on your venture, milord!"

A round of cheers went up around the room. Krillin, Yamcha, and Piccolo raised their glasses so as not to be seen as traitorous, but their voices remained stilled.

"Thank you, my son," Lord Kakarrot said as he stood up, briefly leaving Bulma's side for which she was ever thankful. His tail curled proud and beautiful behind him. "It was a glorious trip, though not one of any hardship or adventure. I will say that we have taken on many new planets to our domain, planets that need to be populated. Are you up to the task, my sons?"

"I am forever up to that duty." Gohan laughed, as did the rest of the gathered crowd. They laughed because they were afraid not to, not because they found anything funny.

"I know you are," Lord Kakarrot replied. Then he turned to Goten, "And what of you, Prince Goten?"

"I am yours to command, Father," Goten answered with a slight bow.

"Truly?" And there was a wicked glint to his eyes. "I shall keep that in mind."

Goten flushed as his father turned away. He glared at his father's back before he downed the last of his drink, snagging another as a bar maid passed by. "I wonder if they will ever let that drop..."

"Let what drop?" Piccolo asked.

"The jokes about my... purity," Goten mumbled. He quickly downed the contents of his new drink in a few large gulps and grabbed one more off the next passing tray. "It never seems to end."

"It will," remarked the green male.

The young demi-saiyajin choked a little on his drink, his face flushed bright red. "Th-think so?"

"I don't see why not," Piccolo smirked.

To that, Goten had nothing to say, so he let his gaze slip away from Piccolo's visage and scan over the crowd again. His gaze fell on 17 as the android watched the crowd from a short distance away. The guard had his hair in his usual ponytail, still and unmoving. The only other creatures that Goten had ever seen be that still were all dead. Dead creatures, life and joy and movement having left them.

All these people, and none of them were worth his evening, 17 decided. He didn't mind Piccolo, or the two humans for that matter. But, if he could have his way, he'd be in his room, out of the silly dress uniform, and talking with Trunks. Only his eyes moved as he scanned the crowd for any possible attack, though to be so bold as to attack at a royal welcoming party was rather suicide. Still, nothing was out of the question for desperate people. Time passed at a crawling pace for him, though he knew exactly what time it was.

As the evening wore on, he saw more and more glasses emptied. More and more warriors staggered out of the hall, or were forced to be carried. But the night was still young for some, and there was much more to be drank. As he thought on how much time had passed, and how most of the partiers were ready to leave, 17, who had spent most of his life at court, heard the most amazing sound.

Arctic blue eyes turned, as did most of the remaining court, as Goten laughed loud enough to be heard clear across the room. He actually laughed. Synthetic eyes widened in shock and surprise. He couldn't remember ever hearing such a… pleasing sound. The guard caught a quick movement out of the corner of his eye and noticed Lord Kakarrot was signaling him.

After excusing himself from the company of his charge and the younger prince, the android made his way to the emperor's side and kneeled down on one knee beside him. "You called for me, milord?"

"Yesss, 17," Lord Kakarrot confirmed, his voice beginning to slur a bit from the amount of alcohol he'd consumed. "You've been a good boy these past few months playing watchdog for the green man, but I don't think your services will be required for the rest of the evening."

"May I ask to what you're referring, your highness?" 17 inquired, confusion dancing in his eyes.

"See there," the emperor said, pointing in the general direction of Piccolo and his son. "Your guest has been with Prince Goten all night. And from what I can tell, they'll probably want to be with each other for the rest of the night, if you get my meaning." Lord Kakarrot winked and slid down in his chair a bit, chuckling. "Somehow, I doubt they'll require your services. I think Lord Piccolo will be in good hands, don't you? Heh. So, take the rest of the night off. Goten'll call for you in the morning when he's ready."

17 bowed again and moved away once the royal had waved him off. While he was delighted in being relieved of duty, he was certain that neither Piccolo nor Goten was privy to his time off. He headed directly towards them, stopping only briefly. "Our Lord Kakarrot has seen fit to give me leave this evening," the android stated. Turning to Goten, he added with the smallest smirk, "He trusts that you'll keep Lord Piccolo in... good hands. Please do call for me when you're ready for me to return to my post."

Goten stared down into the crystal depths the contents of his wine glass. His face felt red hot to him, all the way to the tips of his ears and down his chest. He knew he must be blushing a firestorm. "Gods, why did he do that?" the demi-saiyajin mumbled softly. "How embarrassing! Does he know? He can't possibly know. He doesn't know anything. He's just... Lucky bastard. Just how... Oh, he couldn't -possibly- know!"

Piccolo suddenly cleared his throat and loudly spoke to cover Goten's quiet ramblings, though they were too softly spoken for most normal hearing to pick up. "Have a good evening, then, 17," he nodded, noting for the android to take his leave. Piccolo acknowledged 17's bow then watched him depart quickly, grabbing something and tucking it under his arm as he left. The tall man nudged his younger companion, who was still muttering things to himself. "Goten. You are aware that you're speaking out loud, are you not?""What?" Goten asked, his eyebrows raised. "I'm... Oh. So you heard all that, huh?"

"Yes."

"Did it make any sense to you?" Goten tossed back the remaining contents of his glass quickly. His mind was racing but stumbling all over itself.

"No," Piccolo fibbed.

"Good," the prince sighed. "You know, I'm kind of afraid to think any complete thoughts because they might... come out of my mouth instead of stay in my head. Ridiculous, huh? Damn alcohol." He shook his head trying to clear it, which worked for the most ephemeral of moments. Daring to look up at Piccolo, he said, "So, um, I guess you're stuck with me for the rest of the night. Is that okay?"

The green male had his head tilted to the side, gazing down at the demi-saiyajin. Though he knew he had no other option, the prospect of spending the rest of the evening with Goten didn't seem entirely unpleasant. In fact, he had no problem with it whatsoever. A smirk slowly spread across his lips. "Fine by me," Piccolo answered.

***

The night grew late, until it was more early morning than late night. Yamcha and Krillin drank from their glasses, taking care to know their limit. For Yamcha, that limit was fast approaching. Fortunately for his ego, it was Krillin who excused himself first.

"Heh. I hafta go to the little men's room and relieve the big man," Krillin laughed around a large yawn. "And then I think I'm just gonna crash."

Yamcha's deep-throated laugh followed the shorter male and his blonde guard out of the room, drawing some attention. Vegeta moved closer to his charge, his tail puffed yet still fully wrapped around his waist.

"Enjoying the sights?" Jeice asked as he came upon them, followed by Burter.

"Some are better than others," Yamcha replied, eyeing the duo over the rim of his glass as he took another swallow.

"I'm sure," Burter intoned. He turned to look at Vegeta, noting the way the shorter man's stance and attitude had changed since Ginyu had died.

"Burter, what are you staring at?" Yamcha asked, noticing the larger alien's fixated stare. The human even moved in front of Vegeta, effectively blocking Burter's aggressive glare.

Burter looked at Yamcha's slightly glazed eyes and smirked. "Nothing. I'm looking at nothing."

"Funny," Yamcha sneered back while staring at the taller warrior. "I'm looking at the same thing."

Vegeta growled softly as the two Ginyu Force members walked off. Yamcha turned to him, a slight tilt to his head as if he was about to ask a question. Vegeta glared at him, folding his arms over his chest and speaking first, but softly so as not to alert the other party attendees. "Why did you get in front of me? I am -your- guard, not the other way around!"

"Hmm?" Yamcha replied, somewhat confused. "Oh, them. They're nothing, Vegeta. Don't worry about 'em. I was wondering, do you want to go for a walk or something. I mean, it's getting late and no one has ordered us to go to our rooms, so why not go for a walk or something?"

Vegeta stared at Yamcha's quizzical expression for a heartbeat or three before sighing loudly, his tail twitching, and then turning to walk out towards the gardens. How could Yamcha say that the Ginyu force was nothing? Vegeta didn't think that the human was stupid, yet that mentality only belonged with someone who was either insane or suicidal. He shook his head slightly, trying to figure out this new piece of the puzzle. Just how strong was Yamcha anyway?

***

Krillin rubbed his hands together under the air dryer in his personal restroom. In reality, it was nothing more than a tiny closet with a toilet, a sink, and a dryer for his hands. He hadn't even known the restroom existed until 18 had pointed out the nearly seamless door to him when he'd had to relieve himself on the first night of their arrival. Finally feeling his hands were sufficiently dry, he stumbled out of the small room into his bedroom.

18 was sprawled out obscenely on his bed, naked. To her, she was posing seductively. To anyone else, however, she may as well have been a centerfold spread in one of Master Roshi's dirty magazines.

The short human grinned broadly. "Hey, sweetie! You missed a great party tonight."

"Huh?" the blonde android sounded. Her brow was furrowed in confusion. Was he nuts? She hadn't missed the party. She -had- to be there! She was his -guard-.

Krillin chuckled as he started disrobing for bed. "Yeah, it was fun, all right. There was this woman who looked like a giant blueberry and a huge talking sponge guy. I think they're supposed to be dignitaries or something. Anyway, there were tons of people to poke fun at. I think you would've dug the party."

18 remained silent, her confusion plainly written on her usually stony face, but did not move from her position on his bed.

"It's great to see you, but you've gotta be careful," he said, barely able to keep his eyes open even to slits. "I got this real bitch of a guard watching me. She kinda looks like you, but you're way prettier."

The android's confusion turned to aggravation. 'Just who the hell does that lowlife think he is?!' she thought. 'How dare he think of me that way!'

Scratching his bald head, the human laughed again. "Heh. You know, I think I drank too much. Room's a little spinny."

At this, 18 leaped off the bed and tackled the unsuspecting shorter male, crushing their lips together brutally when they landed on the floor with a loud thud. They rolled around a bit, kissing and pawing at each other until, finally, 18 threw Krillin backwards onto the bed.

"Gee, honey," Krillin managed to snicker before being attacked again. "All you had to do was ask!"

***

As they walked down the familiar corridor, Goten's mind was filled with the excess of alcohol he had unintentionally drank. Piccolo walked beside him, keeping his pace slow so that the prince would not be left behind. Goten looked over at his companion, smiling shyly for no reason he could really think of. His cheeks were slightly tinted, and he felt extremely warm in his uniform. With a muffled curse at his discomfort, Goten began to undo his jacket.

Piccolo watched as Goten began to struggle out of his jacket. The demi-saiyajin seemed to be a bit addled. With a grin, the green warrior pulled up short, forcing Goten to stop with a strong hand on the prince's shoulder. "Here. Let me."

Goten looked up sharply even as Piccolo leaned down and began to undo the many shiny buttons. The young royal flushed crimson, his tail coming loose from around his waist to curl agitatedly behind him. He looked down to stare in transfixed wonder as green fingers seemed to fly over his jacket. And then the last button was undone, and Piccolo took back his hands. Goten was free of his jacket, but he was put on edge by the simple act. With brows furrowed in confusion and embarrassment, Goten whispered, "Thank you."

"You are welcome," Piccolo replied as he began down the hall again. Goten followed absently behind him, staring down at the ground, or more precisely at his jacket buttons.

They arrived at Piccolo's room shortly thereafter. Goten walked in after Piccolo, the soft wind of the closing door ruffling the fur on his tail. Goten's eyes widened as he looked at Piccolo and then the bed, flickering back and forth between the two.

Piccolo watched as Goten realized where he was and who he was with. He thought it rather sad that Goten was near panic at that moment, more so because he knew only Goten was going to be sleeping on the bed. "Goten?"

"Huh?" Goten squeaked, jumping at the sound of his name. He was afraid. Terrified. But he was also excited. He wanted this, wanted to sleep with Piccolo, but he didn't know what he was expected to do. Walking over to 17's small bed near the door, he discarded the crimson sash and black jacket of his uniform on the bed. Surely it had to start with that, with a lack of clothing. Next, he removed his boots and socks, but when it came to his pants, he paused, his tail twitching nervously behind him. His dress uniform pants were so form-fitting that he'd worn no undergarments beneath them. "I don't have any sleep clothes," he stated.

The green male cocked his head to one side and raised an eyebrow ridge. "Do you -need- sleep clothes?"

"I--I suppose not," the demi-saiyajin decided, his cheeks reddening further. Was this it? Was this the moment for which he'd been waiting his whole life but wasn't sure it would ever come? He slowly undid the buttons of his pants and slid the constrictive cloth down his slim hips, dropping them on top of the pile on the guard's bed. Too nervous to venture a glance at Piccolo, he moved straight to the bed and crawled into it, pulling the covers up only slightly. His tail played lightly in the sheets.

Piccolo noticed how nervous the younger man was. He was practically jumping at his own shadow. He also realized how body shy the half human was, as if he was rarely without clothes in front of anyone. Considering he had seen all the male Sons nude before, he found it rather odd that Goten seemed so shaken over the simple fact of being bare in front of him. And it wasn't as if Goten didn't have a nice body. Very well defined, agile, and lean instead of bulky as some of the warriors around the palace.

Finally, Goten was able to look up at the other man. Piccolo unbuttoned his indigo top and slowly pulled it off his torso, tossing it into the large armoire against the wall. Goten's breathing almost stopped as he thought about that bare chest being pressed against his. What would it feel like? How was this going to work? One thing was certain to the already skittish yet excited youth, he desired this, more than anything he could ever remember wanting. Toeing off his shoes, Piccolo immediately floated up into the lotus position.

Goten frowned slightly. "What are you doing?" he queried.

Piccolo cracked open one eye and peered down at the prince. "I don't need to sleep, but you do," he stated. "You're welcome to have the entire bed all to yourself."

The frown deepened on the younger male's face. What was that supposed to mean? He wasn't planning on sleeping with him? But he'd thought that-- "You're not going to sleep with me?"

The tall man bit back a comment on the double meaning of those words and opted to go with the cleanest version. "I thought you'd prefer to sleep off the alcohol you consumed in the comfort of having the bed to yourself."

Goten clenched his jaw. This was just unfair. He'd come all this way and gotten into Piccolo's bed completely naked just to be rejected? Unfair! His brown tail wrapped itself securely about his waist. So it was all in his head, wasn't it? Piccolo didn't want him. He never wanted him. All of his usually hidden fears came to the forefront. "Is it me?" he asked softly. "It's me, isn't it? Am I not good enough to share a bed with? Am I that repulsive?"

"What makes you think that?" Piccolo inquired back. Just what was going through Goten's mind?

"You won't even share the bed," Goten pointed out. "This is very big bed. There's enough room for both of us. But you won't even get in it."

"I told you why not," the taller man said exasperatedly.

"That's no excuse," the demi-saiyajin stated. "Unless it's the nice way of saying, 'You're worthless and don't deserve to sleep with me'. I mean, I know that I'm not exactly the best person here, but… Is that it? Is it you would rather me be someone else?"

'And so it comes to this,' Piccolo thought with a sigh. His own past words rang out in his head. He'd remembered when he'd first spoken with the prince and called him 'worthless'. He knew that slip back into his darker side would come back to haunt him.

"What do you think of me really?" the prince questioned as he sat up. "You know, don't answer that. I'm not even sure I want to know. I've tried to change, tried to become the person you... But it's not enough, is it? I haven't done enough to prove myself to you. What is it going to take to do that? What is it going to take to prove myself to you? Make myself worthy? Because... I want to be. I want to be worthy of -someone's- attention, dammit! I know I'm not powerful enough, or lovely enough, or fucking good enough to ever be a true rival to Gohan! Because guess what! I'm not my brother! I am NOT the golden child! I'm Goten!"

Suddenly, Piccolo unfurled from his hovering position and strode purposefully to the side of the bed. He placed a single, slim finger over Goten's still open lips, halting the rather heated speech altogether. "Shhh."

Gazing steadily into the smaller male's eyes, Piccolo climbed into the bed beside him. His obsidian orbs never left Goten's as he stretched the covers over their forms and settled next to the demi-saiyajin. Goten, caught off guard, wasn't sure what the other man was up to, but he could not have cared less at the time. He was drowning in the dark depths of Piccolo's eyes.

'I can't believe I'm doing this,' Piccolo thought. 'And why -am- I doing this? To ease his self-pity? Is it really just for him? I shouldn't be doing this.' But the acceptance in Goten's eyes made something else come to his mind. 'I shouldn't, but I want to. I want... to be a little bit... closer... to him.'

Before Piccolo settled all the way into the bed, Goten immediately wrapped himself around the green male, snuggling close and letting his eyes fall shut. His tail uncurled from around his waist to lie across Piccolo's flat stomach, the tip flickering. "Mmm," he sounded, his voice muffled by the larger male's neck.

Goten had wanted the closeness, even without the sex. Just finding someone to -be- with was something extraordinary to him. The taller man hadn't rejected him; that was all he needed to know to set his mind at ease. He wanted reassurance and comfort, and there was no place more inviting and cozy than being next to Piccolo. "Thank you," he murmured. "I'm sorry. For the outburst."

"Yeah," Piccolo whispered in a voice barely louder than a breath. He slid an arm behind Goten, allowing the prince to snuggle closer. What had he gotten himself into now? So lost in that thought, he was scarcely aware that he'd begun to lightly run his fingertips up and down the demi-saiyajin's naked back, swiftly lulling the smaller male into sleep. This was all exceedingly confusing for Piccolo. Half the time, he was straining to keep himself under control; the other half of the time, he acted upon instinct, especially where it concerned Goten. There was just so much he sensed in the younger man, but the part that stuck out the most was how deprived he was. Piccolo realized that Goten denied himself many things, most notably emotions and physical contact. The way he latched onto him? The prince needed the contact; even he knew this. More importantly, Piccolo identified with it. He'd been depriving himself for so many years, he'd lost count, not that he'd really been counting in the first place. But he understood. Everyone thought that he was the noble one, the honorable one, the one who put the world before himself. Didn't they realize he only put the world first because of...? He wanted to be as selfish as anyone else; he just never got the opportunity to get what he wanted.

Piccolo pressed his lips gently to Goten's brow then closed his eyes. His thoughts made one final statement before he entered his repose.

'I want this.'

***

The soft sound of rapid breathing woke Vegeta from his light sleep. Automatically, he became defensive. He scanned the dark room as he slowly stood up. Still sleeping in his bed, Yamcha was the source for the sound. Vegeta glanced around, making sure there was nothing to fear. His thick tail wrapped and unwrapped around his waist repeatedly before simply curling behind him.

Leaving his semi-comfortable pallet on the floor behind him, Vegeta moved to stand near the bed.

The short Saiyajin shook his head. Even while having a nightmare, Yamcha was appealing. Long, dark lashes fluttered delicately against a scarred cheek. Soft, pale lips were parted, allowing for the heavier breathing and slight animal sounds of fear to entrance the room into stillness. Vegeta could smell the wine still evident on the scarred human's breath, and the sweat covering his body. Yes, very appealing.

So very appealing, it was causing very predictable affects on his body. Vegeta wanted to curse as his lower body became heavy with need, but he remained silent. He could control himself. He knew he could.

Then Yamcha had to test his control by turning from his position where he lay on his side, to that of laying on his back, kicking some of the covers away. Vegeta stopped breathing. When did Yamcha remove all his clothing?

But there was a thin line of cloth, just peeking out from under the sheets to show that Yamcha did indeed have clothes on. Vegeta flushed as he tried to regain his wits and breath. And the human was still making those incredibly... arousing animal whimpering sounds, which did not help Vegeta's mind at all. In fact, they made everything worse.

With his dark eyes trained to the low riding line of clothing, he couldn't help but notice that his earlier assumption was incorrect. Yamcha wasn't having a nightmare. Or, if he was, it was one that was leaving the human hard with need. Vegeta licked his lips in anxiety. He was hard. Yamcha was hard. What would happen if Yamcha woke up right then, and saw him watching?

With a sensuous moan, Yamcha arched slightly off the bed, peddling his feet against the mattress. Vegeta bit his lip and looked around. Should he wake up the human? If he didn't, there was no way he'd get any sleep.

"Vegeta..." Yamcha groaned, pulling the short saiyajin's attention back to him.

Sighing softly, he sat down and the bed dipped to allow for his weight. Without thought, Vegeta scooped the human up into a loose embrace, offering security against the dream. Brown, sleep befuddled eyes opened to gaze up at the prince.

"Vegeta?"

"Yes," The guard replied softly, crinkling his nose at the distinct smell of wine on the human's breath. He shifted their positions, trying to get more comfortable. In the end, he found himself sitting on the bed cross-legged, with Yamcha in his lap. He wanted to hold the human like this, wanted to simply hold him like he did when they were sleeping together.

"Please..." Yamcha begged, snuggling closer to the shorter male, blurry eyes blinking open before closing again. "Please. I know you hate me, but please, just... just touch me."

"What?" Vegeta asked, shocked.

"Please."

Very delicately, Vegeta stroked the human's scarred cheek. He wasn't really sure what was expected of him. Was this some kind of strange ritual thing that happened in his dimension? But why call out for him? Was it because he was there? He watched in wary fascination as Yamcha grabbed his hand as it rested along his scarred flesh. The human pulled the hand away and pushed upward. Vegeta's eyes widened in complete shock as Yamcha kissed him. He recovered quickly, though, allowing his eyes to fall half shut as he returned the passionate expression.

He felt scarred skin slide under his fingertips as Yamcha forced his hand down his abdomen, but his senses were mainly focused on the kiss. The taste. The heat. The feel. The pleasure of having Yamcha tasting him at the same time. And then his hand reached its destination, and too late Vegeta realized exactly what Yamcha had been asking for. Almost as a reflex, his hand closed over the gift presented to him. Yamcha broke the kiss and let his head roll back with a groan of utmost pleasure.

Vegeta hissed in a sharp breath of air as Yamcha began to writhe in his lap, rubbing against his own hard arousal. The short saiyajin clenched his teeth tightly as he allowed himself the opportunity to touch Yamcha through the sleep wear, to bring him to completion, to take what he wanted in some small way. His sharp breathy gasps from Yamcha's movements were the only sound he made as his climax approached him, but they were covered over with the soft, ragged cries that Yamcha made. His feral grin went unnoticed as Yamcha moved under his touch, following his whim as if born to do so. The human was practically a slave to whatever Vegeta wanted to do to him at that moment, and Vegeta knew it. But the only thing he wanted to do was to take, to have the human. The need was almost too basic for thought, something that was at the same level as the need for food and air.

Yamcha's liquid pleasure splattered forth, staining scarred flesh, just as he went completely boneless. Gingerly, Vegeta lay the human down on the bed and then proceeded to end his own torment. The guard's seed spilt onto Yamcha's body, mixing with the other's.

"Mmmm...Vegeta..." Yamcha purred as Vegeta clutched him closer, "Don't tell Bulma..."

"Don't tell her what?" Vegeta asked breathlessly, trying to regain some form of control.

"She'd kill me if she found out," Yamcha replied through a large yawn. "I love you."

Vegeta forgot how to breathe.

When he realized that Yamcha was truly asleep, he found his wits returning to him. Yamcha loved him? Why would Mistress Bulma care? But wait... Was it really him that the human loved, or his alter? Vegeta's thick brown tail wrapped securely around his waist. Was he to simply be a stand-in for the stronger, more arrogant prince that Yamcha wanted?

Was he to be everyone's bitch?!

Dark eyes filled with unshed tears as Vegeta accepted that, yes, that was probably what he was destined for. He ducked his head away in shame, but turned back to look at the peacefully sleeping human. Tears tracked their way down royal cheeks as Vegeta discovered that he was still able to cry. He had found yet another reason. Defeated, the saiyajin leaned down and began to lick off all the evidence of their actions. Yamcha didn't need to wake up dirty.

And besides, he was a dog. Dogs were supposed to lick things clean...

Shortly thereafter, Vegeta stumbled back to his pallet and collapsed. He was above sobbing, but that didn't stop him from crying himself to sleep.

***

Trunks snuggled closer to the warm body pressed against his, comfortable in the fact that it was a familiar smell, safe in the knowledge that it was someone he trusted. His purple tail wrapped around him and the other person, allowing him to press closer to the sense of security. He felt a strong arm shift around him, allowing him to get that much closer.

He knew who the arm belonged to. A ghost of a smile formed on Trunks' face as he inhaled the lavender shampoo scent of 17's hair. There was also the smell of the wine that the dark-haired android had brought with him from the party. While 17 had only had one glass's worth, Trunks had finished off the bottle. It had been fun to simply sit in the room and talk, joking about what was undoubtedly going on in some people's minds at the party. Trunks grinned, the buzz well and truly away but the memories there to stay.

It had been a long time since he had actually shared a bed with anyone, let alone 17, though when he was younger, there wasn't a night that he didn't sleep in the raven-haired android's bed. It was one of the few places he was safe. He felt secure in the humanoid's embrace, a feeling that was a rarity. With another shift of their bodies, Trunks felt their bodies press against each other, as if they had both been trying to align themselves up as perfectly as they could get.

That's when he felt something else, something that woke him with a muffled cry of panic.

He pushed away from 17 quickly, blue eyes wide. His lavender hair spread out as he slid away, and his tail quickly pulled back behind him. He hated the quaver in his voice as he asked, "17?"

"Yes?" 17 said as he slid his eyes open slowly.

"Um…17?" Trunks began again, his breathing a bit faster than it needed to be, as 17 wasn't making any kind of overt move. "You're um… hard."

"I am aware of this," 17 replied softly, brushing some his hair out of his face absently. Without being bound, the dark mass seemed to take every opportunity to get in his way.

"Is that a morning thing?" Trunks asked, prayed. He didn't know what he'd do if it wasn't. He liked 17, but he was so tired of being hurt. So tired of being people's meat. Granted, if 17 wanted him, the royal guard could have taken him at any time. Did that mean that 17 didn't want him? The mere sliver of thought that suggested it depressed Trunks to the point of tears. Simply stated, he wanted 17 to want him. And if that meant giving himself up to whatever it was the android wanted, then he would go through with it. Trunks waited with a pounding heart for 17's answer.

"No," the blue-eyed android replied after a short pause. He didn't want to scare Trunks any more than the demi-saiyajin already was, but he also knew that he didn't want to lie to him. "It is not a 'morning thing' as you say. It is, however, a natural reaction."

"Natural reaction?" Trunks asked. He forced himself to begin to breathe slower, trying to calm himself.

"Yes. A natural reaction."

"To what?"

17 blinked his eyes twice, slowly, before answering, "To having a gorgeous individual rubbing their body against mine for the past hour and a half."

Trunks' lips formed an 'O' shape as he reeled in shock from that statement. 17 thought he was… attractive? After a few minutes of otherwise quiet, Trunks had gathered his mind enough to ask, "Do you want to… I mean, the others…" He was at a complete loss for words, never having said anything like what he was about to say. But by the growing frown on 17's otherwise calm features, he knew he had to say what he was trying to say, or things might get worse. "If you want… I mean, I'd let you if you wanted to."

"Let me…?" 17 asked, not sure he understood, not completely sure he wanted to understand.

"I'd let you. I wouldn't fight. I promise," Trunks said softly, worried. "I mean, I know you could take me-"

"NO!" 17 said as he sat up in bed. "Lights, dim!"

Suddenly, the dark room was illuminated by a very dim glow that showed 17 sitting with one arm propped on an upraised knee, the other arm straight to allow the android to look down at the demi-saiyajin who was just staring up at him with blue eyes.

"I am NOT going to TAKE you like the OTHERS do," 17 said with emphasis. How could Trunks even -suggest- something like that? That he would -ever- take advantage of Trunks -- even if the demi-saiyajin said he would -let- him -- was unfathomable to the android. Anger furiously exploded through his whole being. He didn't want Trunks to simply -let- 17 take him. He wanted Trunks to want him. Even if 17, himself, wasn't entirely sure how capable he was of... Trunks would understand that he was different from everyone else. And not just in the synthetic way. "I may not be organic anymore, but I still have my pride! I will only take those that are WILLING to my bed, not coerced or forced! I refuse to inflict pain for something that should be pleasurable."

Trunks blinked in surprise. He had never seen 17 this angry at him. He wondered if the android knew his eyes were glowing. Pushing that thought to the side and plowing forward with his earlier offer, "But it wouldn't really be like the others. I mean, I won't fight you. And you could have your pleasure."

The dark-haired male huffed a sigh as he shook his head. "No, Trunks. I am not going to be another of your rapists. I refuse to be."

"But… you can't rape the willing," Trunks said, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Please, 17. Let me do this for you."

Synthetic eyes met organic, the red glow slowly bleeding out of 17's eyes. The android had no real idea what to do, for in all honesty, he wasn't sure what was supposed to happen during sex. He couldn't remember -not- being an android, and since he had become synthetic he was a little leery of having sex. He wasn't even sure if his scalp itched or if it was phantom pains! How was he supposed to know if something was pleasurable or not? What if he couldn't feel pleasure anymore? He let out a shaky sigh. He knew, though, that he couldn't reject Trunks' offer. One, Trunks had offered, and it was probably the first time the lavender-haired male had done so. Rejecting that offer would be disastrous, not only to their relationship, but also to Trunks' pride and self-esteem, or what little there was of it. Two, 17 wanted Trunks, wanted him on levels that he didn't even admit to himself because the depth of it all scared him. Scared him like nothing, not even death or torture, did.

Nodding his head slowly, 17 agreed. "All right, Trunks. If you insist."

"I do," Trunks said adamantly, terrified but sure. He raised himself up as well, not really sure of where to go or what to do, but knowing that if he did this then he could still be safe. At least for a while.

"All right. Wait here," 17 said as he climbed out of bed. Trunks watched with interest, noticing the way the other male moved in his satin sleep pants. He had on a pair of his own, borrowed from the guard. 17 returned quickly, placing a small plate filled with something on the floor, near where his scouter rested. He then climbed back under the sheets and laid down on his side. Trunks laid down on his back, his head turned to look at the dark-haired android. They rested like that for a good few minutes, until 17 began to softly laugh.

Trunks was somewhat used to people laughing at him before, during, and after what was to come. He had never thought that 17 would laugh at him, but it was not completely out of the norm for him. A purple tail made a soft 'thwap' under the sheets. He was afraid, but he was going to go through with this.

The android smiled as he shook the laughter away. They were both practically virgins! And here they were, trying to decide what to do next. The blind leading the blind! It was one of those situations where a person either cried from the sadness or laughed from the pathetic-ness. Moving as slowly, gently as he could, he moved one hand to rest on Trunks' abdomen. And there it rested. Blue eyes met blue, waiting for whatever it was that was coming.

Trunks was taken completely off guard when 17 closed the distance between them, still not doing anything other than touching him. The dark-haired man leaned over the hybrid, letting his dark hair fall wherever it wished. The hand resting on Trunks' abdomen skimmed up pale flesh, until it cupped the younger man's jaw. As 17 leaned down, Trunks closed his eyes.

The merest brush of lips was what 17 was after. He wanted to feel the pale pink lips of the younger man under his, but only just barely. And he did. Amazingly, he did. But he wasn't sure if the pleasure was real, or if it was all in his imagination. Gently, he rested his closed lips against Trunks', being as careful as he could. Parting his lips slightly, he flicked out his tongue, tasting. And he could taste, which he was ever so thankful for. He had not lost his sense of smell or taste when he was transformed from organic.

Trunks had never been kissed, not really. With his eyes closed, he didn't know what was going on, but he did know where 17 was, and that was all that really mattered. Confused, he parted his lips, wondering where this was supposed to be going. His breath stuttered as he felt 17's tongue slip into his mouth, deftly slipping out again. And then the tongue was back, only this time it remained long enough for Trunks to get brave enough to try and taste it with his own.

When Trunks began to return the kiss, 17 let his hand slowly begin to stroke the youth's body, much like petting a favored pet. He brushed the long, lavender hair out of the way, savoring the texture of the strands as they slipped through his fingers. He caressed Trunks' long body, finding places that made the paler male gasp with shocked pleasure. He marked those places in his head, knowing he would return to them for later inspection. He was very pleased when he felt an over eager tail wrap around his thigh, bringing him closer.

Trunks concentrated on the kiss, the taste of 17. He could still taste some of the wine they had indulged in, but there was a taste under that which was completely foreign and yet exotically wonderful. He didn't know what he was supposed to do, where his hands were supposed to go, but he really wanted to bury them in 17's hair to keep the darker male from leaving him, abandoning him. He gripped the sheets in confusion and vexation. He could feel a hand exploring his bare skin, never going below the pants line. But if this was going to lead to the inevitable, then eventually someone was going to have to remove their pants. When he felt that strong hand on his tail, petting him softly, he sighed into the kiss, angling his head to the side to get better access to the aggressive mouth over him.

From where he was laying, 17 could feel that their delicate foreplay was slowly arousing Trunks, which was the intent. The dark-haired male broke off the kiss and began to nip and taste his way to the younger male's ear. He bit down lightly, flicking his tongue over the lobe. He was rewarded with a slight giggle from the lavender-haired youth. "If you want, you can touch me, too."

Blue eyes flew open at that. No one had ever, ever wanted him to touch them! No one! Shyly, he raised his hands and rested them on the muscled chest of the dominating male. Cautiously, he began to explore 17's body even as the android began to tease and torment him with a treacherous mouth. Even with the distraction of being able to explore 17's body, or perhaps because of it, Trunks soon found his body moving to intercept 17's caress. He wasn't even aware of when he began to writhe, but he knew he needed the android's touch, needed it like he needed air to breathe. Though, it seemed the air in the room was in short supply because he was gasping it in. "17?"

"Hmm? Yes?" the dark-haired male replied, taking his time by dipping his head and running his tongue over the hollow of Trunks' throat, trying to taste as much as he could.

"Um," Trunks began, suddenly at a loss for words. Where was he going with this? And then he remembered, "Um, don't you think we should, um…"

17 grinned as the demi-saiyajin whimpered in pleasure. Hands that had been exploring him had stilled before gripping his shoulders tightly. 17 looked up, taking notice of the flushed features before him. He knew Trunks was aroused, but not sure if it was enough. Grinning he leaned up and kissed the already parted lips presented to him, happier than he had ever been when Trunks returned the kiss hungrily.

Trunks couldn't stop his body's natural reaction of bucking up against 17, and he was already too aroused to be embarrassed about it. He was afraid, but only slightly. What 17 was doing to him felt too good to be too wrong. And when the only reaction Trunks got for his action was a deepening of the kiss, he began to move under the darker male more, trying to appease the natural demand for friction. Too soon, 17 broke the kiss to stare down at him, dark hair spilling down like a curtain to block out what dim light there was.

"One moment," the royal guard said, and turned to grab something off the floor. He returned before Trunks actually processed the statement, holding two small, soft beads of… something. He placed them in a hand he had to pry off his shoulder. "Hold these in your hand."

"What are they?" Trunks asked.

"Lotion beads," 17 replied, a bright smile shining forth in the darkness. "Crush them in your palms when you're ready."

"Ready?" Trunks asked. He was having a hard time thinking, especially with his body still wanting to move and all. "Ready for what?"

"I… I want you to touch yourself," 17 answered. He wasn't really sure how to say it, so he hoped that he had done it right.

"Touch myself?" Trunks grinned slightly, not really comprehending. Surely 17 was going to--

"Here," 17 said as he pressed down on the bulge in Trunks' sleep pants, effectively cutting off all thought processes in the lavender-haired male. Lacking any kind of control, Trunks automatically thrust up into the touch with a startled gasp. "I want you to touch yourself here."

"But…" Trunks began, not really sure what he was protesting, just knowing that he was. At 17's shaking head, He began to obey the request. He nearly tore his pants in his haste to get them open. When they were finally undone, he pushed them down to his thighs, freeing his aching sex. He was startled to realize that there was already moisture forming on its head. His eyes flickered between his own erection and 17's blue eyes, back and forth with uncertainty. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he crushed the delicate beads in his hands, letting the slick substance fill his palm. With eyes only for 17, the shivering half-breed began to touch himself slowly. His eyes fell shut again, giving in to the soft pleasure that seeped through his bloodstream. His shivering increased as he heard 17's dark voice begin whispering things to him, impossible things, about how brave he was, how beautiful, how strong, how lovely. Trunks shook his head, trying to deny what the other was saying, but the android captured his mouth in another mind-blowing kiss.

Trunks soon degenerated into jerking, confused movements that he couldn't control. He kept waiting for 17 to tell him to stop, that he was going to take over. But as the moments progressed, something strange and terrifyingly wonderful began to tighten inside of him and Trunks was mindless to whatever consequences might occur if he simply gave in to it. He sought out the one responsible for his situation, clinging to the synthetic male with his mouth, his tail tightening its hold around its captured thigh. The closer he came to whatever was waiting for him, the more terrified he became of it, yet the more he wanted it. He began to sob in frustrated fear, not understanding what was happening to him.

"Hush, hush," 17 murmured encouragingly as he continued to pet the other male. "Relax, my love. Relax. Let it come."

Trunks did as 17 said, arching his neck with pleasure. His first climax claimed him completely, blinding him. He cried out in surprise, shock, and utmost ecstasy. When the world snatched him back, he landed easily, contentedly in 17's arms. His breathing was labored, and when he wiped away his tears, he smeared his face with other, stranger substances. He rested there, cradled by the bed and by the dark-haired guard, almost boneless.

"Good?" 17 asked as he pulled a red cloth from somewhere and began cleaning the still trembling male up.

Trunks could only nod his head, wonderment in his eyes. He didn't even flinch when 17 removed the borrowed pants from where they were around his knees, leaving him completely naked. When he finally caught his breath, he began to talk, "What… what about you? Your turn now?"

"No. Now we sleep," 17 said as he flung his old bandana to the corner of the room.

"But, what about your pleasure?" Trunks asked, his eyelids already falling shut. He could still feel the android's arousal pressed into him.

"I'll take pleasure in just holding you, like this, for as long as I can," 17 replied as he shifted them both to an equally comfortable position. He was left with Trunks tucked tightly against him. The curious lavender tail wrapped lazily around them both as much as it could. He smiled as he listened to the deep breathing that signaled Trunks was well and truly asleep.

The royal guard was uncertain of his future. He was unsure if he was able to well and truly feel pleasure, though he retained the ability to sense touch, taste, and smell. He was unclear as to what life had been like for him before he was turned into an android. But one thing was certain, and amazingly clear for the guard.

He loved Trunks.

The rest of the world be damned.

***

Goten's mind slowly became aware that he was slipping out of the pleasant unconsciousness of sleep and back into the harshness of reality. And it was all because his bladder had decided to make its overly full presence known. He knew he had to get to a restroom eventually, but he was just so incredibly comfortable, more comfortable than he'd ever been in his life. All he wanted to do was go back to sleep and revel in that coziness. But he understood his bladder wouldn't let that happen.

Forcing his eyes open, Goten saw nothing but darkness. Taking a deep breath to give him the energy he knew he would need to break out of his languid state, Goten noticed a strange scent, one he knew for a fact was not in his room.

The smell of Piccolo.

The scent was better than the jet fuel served at breakfast to wake up the house. Dark eyes went wide as Goten became acutely aware that the warmth he was feeling was coming from a muscled body that lay directly in front of him. Taking extreme care, Goten moved his hand slightly, trying to discover where it was exactly.

Upon discovery of his hand resting on a firm chest, the small prince became aware of where other parts and appendages were located, not only of himself, but also of the green man with whom he was sharing the bed.

'Green?' the demi-saiyajin thought. He angled his face up a bit to peer at the face of the man before him. He ceased breathing when he immediately recognized him. 'Oh, gods! Piccolo!'

Looking back down, his eyes became larger. They were face-to-face, close. Goten had one leg draped over Piccolo's upper thigh, with that thigh resting between his legs. His traitorous tail had wound itself across them both, snugly keeping the green male pulled in to the prince. Piccolo's strong arms did the rest of the work, having wrapped around his waist in a warm embrace. Nevertheless, there were two things that caused Goten to blush furiously. One, he was completely naked. And two, he had a raging hard on unlike any he'd ever had in his life.

Just then, Piccolo shifted slightly, causing Goten's erection to rub against him. Goten shuddered a little then frowned. What was that he'd felt? Peeking down, he saw the front of Piccolo's black pants tenting somewhat. Was he aroused too? He was! Goten's blush grew deeper as his confusion heightened. How was he supposed to handle this? He'd never awoken with another person in bed with him, let alone a person he greatly desired. On top of that, he was naked, hard, and ridiculously entwined with the other man. Plus, he had to use the restroom. Whereas earlier he'd felt nothing but the utmost in comfort, he now panicked. What was he going to do? Should he wake Piccolo up? Try to sneak off? What were his best options?

"Good morning," greeted an impossibly deep voice from above his head.

Goten jumped a bit, startled. His face flushed hotter all over again, creeping down his chest. "Morning," he responded quietly.

Piccolo glanced down, only too aware of the proximity and condition of their nether regions. But when he saw the plain mortification on Goten's face, he couldn't help but smirk a little. And take advantage of that while he was at it. His arms constricted around the demi-saiyajin, pressing their bodies tightly together as Piccolo continued to smirk at the blushing prince. "Did you sleep well, Goten?" he inquired, adding a sultry tone to his already deep voice.

"Y-ye-yes," Goten breathed, squirming in his grip. As he moved, he began to wish that he could simply remain still because he ended up simply shifting back and forth between two positions, each equally… suggestive. He tried moving the leg that was draped over Piccolo's thigh, but he didn't know where it should go, so he simply let it rub up and down, trying to find another resting place. He looked down at how his body was moving, glaring at it to make it obey his mental commands to, 'Stop moving!' But, alas, when his body finally quieted, he found himself amazingly closer to the stronger male, if that was somehow possible.

Piccolo closed his eyes as Goten moved against him, silently willing his body to calm itself. While he was asleep, he had less control over more natural reactions. But he was awake now. He opened his eyes just in time for the prince to look up at him with overly large eyes. The green male touched his nose to the younger man's. Piccolo realized that if either one of them tilted their head just a fraction, they could kiss. But that was something he would not do. 'At least not yet,' a voice in his head told him. Piccolo forcefully pushed that annoying voice to the very back of his mind. "And how are you now?"

"I-I-I," sputtered the youth. 'I'm harder than I have ever been in my entire life and wondering if you're going to kiss me,' Goten thought to himself. He really hoped it was to himself, but one could never really be sure. Sometimes, it seemed that Piccolo could read minds, but no one had mentioned if he could or not. The prince opened his mouth a few more times, but nothing came out, or at least nothing as intelligible as speech. He clicked his mouth shut as he tried to gather his wits, and then licked his lips before he began again. "I--I need to go to the restroom."

Chuckling, Piccolo rolled away from Goten, allowing the demi-saiyajin hop out of the bed and take a sheet with him. As the younger prince wrapped the sheet around his body, he was aware of Piccolo watching him with a devilish smirk on his face. His tail didn't know what to do with itself, so it was busy getting tangled up in his makeshift toga, simply adding to Goten's embarrassment. His brown eyes darted to Piccolo as the green man reclined on his bed, simply watching him. Goten didn't understand how, but it seemed that having an audience to watch him walk the five feet to the water closet caused his nerves to completely fizzle out on him. He knew, just -knew-, that his cheeks were going to be stained a permanent flush the rest of his life from this.

Piccolo's smirk held back the laughter he wanted to give in to. 'He's very cute like that,' Piccolo decided. He couldn't help that his grin turned into a full-fledged smile as Goten tripped over the end of the sheet, cursing softly even as his hands shook to pick the treacherous cloth out of the way. He was still smiling as Goten opened the door to the small lavatory, checking over his shoulder to see if Piccolo was still watching him. When Piccolo turned his smiling face away, he heard Goten make some kind of choked sound before the sheet fell to the ground.

Finally, the prince returned to the bedroom, the sheet secured around him once again. His eyes were cast to the floor, until he noticed his toes were sticking out from under the sheet, and he thought that they looked rather childish. Since he couldn't do anything about that, he turned his attention to the rest of the room, trying his best to avoid looking directly at Piccolo. He was entirely too flustered to think straight, and he wasn't all that sure what he was supposed to say. They hadn't actually had sex or anything, yet it seemed to be more of an intimate moment than he had ever had to deal with before. He took a deep breath, forced himself to stand up to his full height, and dared to look at Piccolo. "I think, um," he started, "that maybe it's time to start the day. Get dressed and all."

"Are you going to wear your dress uniform for the day?" Piccolo asked. He acknowledged that he was teasing the younger male, and that he really should stop before someone got hurt, but it was so tempting to continue to play. He had never really played before, not without there being some aspect of training behind it. It was nice to simply tease. Especially since it got such entertaining reactions from his victim. He wasn't sure he understood his reasons for continuing down this path, changing whatever relationship they had into something else, but he knew he wanted it. Needed it. Just as Goten needed the change. Granted, it wasn't something that could be put into words, but it was there nonetheless.

Goten spied his uniform from the night before haphazardly strewn across 17's cot-like bed. "I... don't have anything else to wear, so, I'll have to wear it at least until I can get my regular uniform.""Come here," Piccolo ordered. The demi-saiyajin obeyed without question. He could not stop himself from doing as the other commanded. It was… automatic. He didn't really understand his knee-jerk obedience, but he went with it, trusted it. That's when he realized that he trusted Piccolo. He trusted Piccolo! He, the Royal Inquisitor, the resident spy, trusted someone! His eyes went slightly wild as his mind raced to deal with this sudden insight. He looked at the bed, and then at the floor, and then up. He stood in front of the green male, his breathing speeding up. "Drop the sheet."

"What? But...?" Goten fumbled for words. What did he mean 'drop the sheet'? He was naked without it! Sighing resignedly and blushing profusely, he released the sheet, letting it fall to pool on the floor around him. Chill bumps rose all over his body. His tail whipped through the air, as if it was glad to be rid of the offending sheet, as if standing in the nude was supposed to make him feel free, though all it did was make him feel inadequate. 'No, instead, he held me through the night while I was naked and vulnerable and didn't let go. What does that mean?' Goten pondered, as his tail curled low behind him in self-doubt and fear. He pushed the nagging thoughts away, focusing on the fact that Piccolo was still with him, still within touching distance. And that the green man didn't seem to be throwing him away. Well, at least not yet.

Piccolo stepped forward and embraced Goten, staring down into the younger male's brown eyes. The flush in the prince's face deepened as he was drawn again to the green man's body. The closeness, the contact... It was almost too much for him to bear. Piccolo ran his hands lightly over the demi-saiyajin's back, eliciting a soft gasp from him. Suddenly, a faint glow engulfed him, and he was no longer naked. Stepping back, Piccolo gave him a confident smirk, and Goten looked down... at his normal daily uniform. "How did you...? How did you do that?" he queried.

"It's just something I do." Piccolo shrugged. He snapped his fingers and his typical indigo gi appeared on himself.

"You do this for your humans, too, don't you? You..." Goten swallowed hard to get the words out, to keep out of his voice the jealousy at the possibility of Piccolo touching either of them like that. He cocked his head to the side and peered at the taller male. His tail puffed slightly before calming, though it had yet to wrap around his waist. "Do you... hold them close, too?"

Piccolo smirked as he bent his head down, his antenna burying into the short spikes of the Inquisitor's raven hair. The sensation caused the strangest reactions to course through Piccolo's entire body, something that was not unpleasant, but completely unexpected. He bent so low that his lips were almost brushing Goten's ear, and he made sure that his hot breath skimmed over the younger male's flesh. "I don't have to touch a person to create the clothing, and I have no interest in touching either of them," stated the green man. "I just did that for you. I like seeing you blush."

He couldn't stop the shivers that were caused by the words, or the tone of the words. He inhaled deeply, as if offended and wanted to retort, but when he did so, he became overly conscious of Piccolo's scent. Goten's face reddened again, and he wondered if it was possible to stay conscious with so much blood rushing to his face. He wanted to lean forward, to rest his head on the shoulder in front of him, or to have Piccolo put his hands on him somehow or somewhere. Instead, he pushed away from the other male, trying to fight his body for control of the situation. He might have even retained some of his fleeting pride if he had managed a retort that would cause some degree of reaction in the green male similar to his own. He mumbled, "Tease."

Piccolo only raised his head slightly as he continued to smirk at him.

Shaking his head, Goten moved to the door and pressed the intercom code to contact Piccolo's regular guard. He loathed ending his time with the green male, but he did have work he needed to do. There would always be time to meet with him later. And Goten was certain there would be a later. There had to be. He'd make sure of it. Once the android answered the call, Goten spoke succinctly, all evidence of his shyness and awkwardness with Piccolo gone. "17, please report back to your post."