Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Kingdom Come ❯ Chapter 15: Redefinition ( Chapter 15 )

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

WARNING: See Chapter 1

Kingdom Come
~ Chapter 15Krillin's feet skidded across the floor as he tried to run around a hallway corner too quickly. Five minutes before, he'd made the mistake of going to collect his winnings from betting on the match. Not that collecting his money was a mistake. But he'd let his guard down. That was the mistake. And that's when 18 had spotted him.

Having lost contact with Yamcha during a failed interference ploy, the bald human was now by himself, trying to make it back into a crowded area so that he could 'blend'. He looked ahead of himself down the hallway and saw... absolutely nothing. "Aw, man!" he groaned softly. "There's not even a vase or something to hide behind!"

He continued to run, turning towards the direction in which the din of the crowd grew louder. Bursting through double doors, Krillin tripped over his feet, falling onto the ground. The people moving by didn't see him, didn't realize they were trampling him. It didn't hurt at all, but it -was- irritating. Suddenly, a dark hand pulled him up from the dirty walkway and set him on his feet, directing him off to the side near a sales booth. "Thanks for saving my ass, buddy," Krillin smiled. "With my luck, one of those elephant people would've come by and stomped me flatter than a hotcake."

"Worry not, my friend," said the cloaked stranger. "You are safe now."

That voice. There was something very familiar about that voice. And his energy... 'Do I know this guy from somewhere?' Krillin wondered. "Have we met?"

"No, but I do wish to speak with you," the other man replied. "Do you know of a quiet spot where we might converse?"

With dead certainty, the short human realized he knew that voice, and he wanted to hear whatever it was the man had to say, even if he ended up having to fight him in the end. "Sure thing. Follow me."

Krillin made his way back to his guest room, warily keeping an eye out for that sneaky blonde android. Finally, he and the stranger arrived, and Krillin stood back from him. "All right," he said. "You can take ditch the death shroud now, pal."

The front was unclasped, and then the hood fell back, revealing a bejeweled turban and glossy black skin. Krillin knew he'd been right. He knew he'd recognized the voice. But this man looked so much different from the version he knew in his universe. For one, he was dreadfully thin, as if he'd been starving for years. But the eyes were the same, though sadder. "Mr. Popo?"

"You know me," smiled the once-servant of this universe's Kami. "I am pleased."

Krillin eyed him suspiciously for a moment. "Wait a minute. You're not evil, are you?"

"Evil is a relative term, my friend," Mr. Popo elucidated. "But if you count Lord Kakarrot among the evil, then no. I am not evil."

"Oh, good," the bald man breathed. "I don't think I could take another crappy surprise like that." Studying the physically different but, in all other ways, similar Mr. Popo, a new thought formed in Krillin's mind. "What are you doing here? Have you been here this whole time?"

"I felt the disturbance your arrival caused here, and I searched the world over for the ones who did not belong here," explained Mr. Popo. "It was not until I saw Demon Lord Piccolo that I knew I had finally found them. That I had found you."

"Me?" the short human questioned. "What do you want me for?"

"You are the most easily accessible from what I have observed. You will be able to share my message with the Demon Lord and your scarred companion." He pulled out a small scroll of paper. "This is how I knew you would arrive here and what I have prepared."

"Prepared?" Krillin scrunched his face up in confusion. He was being cryptic and acting a little paranoid. Was this Mr. Popo high? "What do you have?"

"The way for you to return home," responded the dark, thin man. "The Mirror of Janus."

***

Vegeta pulled himself up onto his arms slowly. He was waiting for the pain to set in. He was very familiar with this procedure, and knew that as soon as he became fully aware, he would realize that his entire body was one big ache. When the pain wasn't as quick in coming as it usually was, Vegeta decided to try getting to his knees. His tail flicked the sheet away, raising to curl behind him. His bare skin was left to decide the temperature of the air. Finally, on his hands and knees, Vegeta opened his eyes.

There wasn't any pain. And these weren't his sheets. These were clean sheets.

After spending two days in bed, they should have been dirty. They should have been soaked through with his sweat. Instead, they were almost crisp in their cleanliness. Vegeta didn't waste too much time trying to figure out that mystery, though. He was too busy bracing himself for the pain that he knew was going to hammer into him at any moment. He just wished that that moment would occur already.

Even as Vegeta gathered his thoughts to fight back the nausea that he knew was bound to assault him at any moment, now that consciousness had returned, the door to his room slid open. He froze where he was, more concerned with the pain that was going to occur because of his newest guest than he was with the pain that was supposed to be there already.

"Good, you're up," Goten said as the door hissed closed behind him. He looked at the elder male with a critical eye. Vegeta -appeared- to be fully recovered. Only time would tell, though. "You're being re-assigned."

"To where, milord?" Vegeta asked softly, slowly sitting down on his knees. He was very much aware that this was Prince Goten, and that he was nude in front of him.

He thought that the prince was going to reassign him to some outward planet, someplace so far out on the rim on known space that it wasn't even inhabited. Someplace where no one would have to look at him, the mockery of what a true saiyajin could be. Someplace where he'd never have to look at Yamcha, and see how badly he'd screwed up. Someplace where he'd be alone, with time on his hands to reflect on everything he'd done wrong, not only with himself, but with the opportunities that came his way.

It was also very strange that it was Prince Goten re-assigning him, as he was more of Prince Gohan's soldier, as he was a guard and not one of the Inquisitor's Task Force. Also, it was strange that he was going to be given duty so soon after the tournament. Most fighters who spent any amount of time in the tank were given at least two days -after- they woke up to recover.

"You're going to return to your station as guard to the human, Yamcha," Prince Goten revealed. He watched from where he was as a string of powerful emotions flashed across the weaker man's face. Just before Vegeta blanked all expression on his face, Goten took note of the fear that expressed itself in wide eyes and pale skin. He watched as the elder warrior wrapped his tail gingerly around his waist. He gave a small half smile as he added, "Pack your things. You'll be moving in with him into his -new- room."

"New room, sir?" Vegeta asked, daring to look at the youngest of the princes, realizing that this -was- the day after the tournament, and Goten didn't have a mark on him. 'What happened while I was out?'

"Yes. He's getting one of the smaller state suites," Goten acknowledged. "Bedroom, bath, closet, small bar and kitchenette. It's part of the 'prize' allotted to Demon Lord Piccolo for taking the tournament. And father thought it would be a good idea to place Yamcha at a higher level of the palace than his human friend as he -did- kill Recoom."

"Piccolo won?" Vegeta whispered. The news caused him to pale considerably, though Goten wasn't sure why. For Vegeta, this news meant several things. One, it meant that he hadn't imagined Yamcha saving his life in the arena and then walking him to his room. Two, it meant that everything the human had said the first day they met was true. Three, it meant that Yamcha was powerful as well, powerful enough to take revenge for what he did that night... Four, it meant that his life was about to get a lot worse. A lot worse.

"Yes. Demon Lord Piccolo won," Goten repeated, and he couldn't control the smug smirk that spread across his features. It -was- an amazing fight. More importantly, it was an amazing opportunity. He was free! Physically shaking his head, as if to get the idea to dislodge from the forefront of his mind, Goten continued. "But YOU will not be dealing with him. He'll be located in a -MUCH- larger room, three levels up. The human, Krillin, will be the closest, but he'll be three floors down. By order of my father, it will be your job to make sure that their socializing is cut down to a bare minimum. Understand?"

"Yes, sire," Vegeta whispered. His mouth was dry. If Yamcha wasn't going to be allowed to spend time with his friends, then it would be up to Vegeta to keep him company. He didn't know if he'd be able to do that. He had made such an ass of himself! First by blackmailing someone stronger than him into a sexual situation, and then by bawling like a baby in his arms.

Goten nodded his head once, curtly, before turning and exiting the room. Vegeta was left behind to gather his meager possessions. He experimented with movement slowly, always anticipating some form of pain. By the time he packed up all of his things to retrieve later, he had come to the startling conclusion that perhaps he -wasn't- going to experience any.

It was strange, not feeling any pain. He just hoped that it would last.

***

It took Goten far longer to track 17 down than it did any one else. Vegeta had been the easiest to find as he could be no place else other than in his room recovering. And 18... Finding her had been luck. The young demi-saiyajin literally ran into her, and he was rather confused by her overt enthusiasm. Whereas Vegeta had seemed confused and skeptical, 18 was almost shamelessly gleeful. 'And that was kind of scary. What a nut,' Goten thought. But it was 17 who'd given him the most trouble. He'd already spent over two hours looking for him.

In the end, the prince discovered that the android was in his room. Goten flicked his tail behind him, his thoughts far from the task at hand, something that he normally wouldn't do. But these weren't normal times. Without bothering to knock, the Royal Inquisitor strode into 17's room.

The prince was brought up short by the sight before him. Anger the likes of which Goten had never seen before were reflected in softly glowing red eyes. Goten managed not to pale at the look of murder in 17's eyes, but after a moment, he noticed the reason for it. Trunks was sitting in the android's lap, his blue eyes as large as any prey, completely naked. Apparently, the prince had interrupted something. A purple tail unwound from where it had been wrapped around 17's wrist.

For a moment, Goten looked at them, and he thought of himself and Piccolo. He grinned at the mental image, knowing that it was a bit off as Piccolo was MUCH larger than 17, but he could imagine they would fit together decently well. Clearing his throat as he dismissed the rampant thought, he gave his orders to 17 while completely ignoring Trunks. "As of tomorrow morning, you're to be re-instated as Demon Lord Piccolo's guard. He is going to be moved to Level 10, Suite B."

"Sir," 17 said, his anger draining away. He kept his hands where they were, clasping Trunks' upper thighs, trying to reassure the younger male that he was there and that nothing was going to happen to him. It was only recently that Trunks was willing to overcome his body-shyness, even if it was only with him, and the android didn't want the young male to relapse into it. They had been in the middle of foreplay when Goten had interrupted them, and he could tell that even through the fear, or perhaps because of it, Trunks was still somewhat aroused. It was just as well that Goten interrupted them, 17 thought, as Trunks seemed to be especially persistent in trying to get the dark haired guard to... well, this just saved 17 from trying to find a way of not hurting the demi-saiyajin. Things just seemed to be moving so fast!

"By order of my father, Demon Lord Piccolo is 'encouraged' to remain busy and 'away' from his companions," Goten smiled. "Let's keep my father happy, shall we?"

"Yes, sire," 17 nodded. He watched as Goten gave him a curt nod before departing the room.

"Dammit!" Trunks hissed as he turned to look at 17 again. "Don't you have a lock on that door or something?"

"Or something," 17 replied with a half-grin. "My sister, the princes, and Lord Kakarrot can enter my room at any time. It is her right as my sibling, and their right as royalty."

Trunks looked at the door and glared at it for a moment, as if silently commanding it to NOT open again. He felt 17 shifting, and found that the android was leaving the bed. He moved to allow the guard to do whatever it was he was going to do. Sighing, he folded his legs, raising one knee to rest his elbow on, and wrapped his purple tail around him. His lips twitched as he watched 17 move around the room, fixing them something to drink. Nothing alcoholic, though. Trunks' slight grin turned to a slight frown. It looked like he was just going to have to come out and -ask- for what he wanted.

"17?" Trunks began, trying to gather his nerves.

"Yes?" 17 replied, his back to the younger male. He was about to pour them two glasses of a fruity drink that they both liked.

"When are we going to have sex? Real sex, I mean," Trunks asked, his face flushing with embarrassment.

The pitcher was put down before any of its contents were spilt forth. 17 leaned forward, the loose strands of his dark hair falling forward to curtain him off from the rest of the world, his hands placed flat on the surface of the cabinet. "Trunks..."

"I mean... Well..." Trunks stammered, more nervous than he'd ever been in his life. "I want to. With you."

Synthetic blue eyes closed. 'Gods, how am I going to go through with this?' Keeping his back to the younger male, 17 queried softly, "Trunks, do you realize that I'm -not- organic?"

"Yes. I know you aren't human," Trunks answered, tilting his head to the side. "But I also know that you suffer through desire just like the rest of us do."

"But, unlike you, I don't feel. I don't feel pain. And I'm not all that sure I can feel pleasure either," 17 whispered. His hands clenched tightly, holding nothing. "I won't know if I'm hurting you--"

"You won't," Trunks interrupted. "You won't hurt me."

"There's no way to be sure until after the fact."

"I trust you," Trunks stated. He wanted this. More than anything else he had ever craved, he wanted this. But at the same time, he knew that part of what was driving him was fear. Fear that 17 -would- hurt him, not so much physically but in other ways. "Please."

"You may trust me, but I'm not sure that I can trust myself," the android replied. "Not with you, at least."

"Why not with me?" Trunks asked, his brow furrowing in confusion, and a bit of jealousy.

"Heh," 17 chuckled, still not turning around. "Because you scare the hell out of me."

Trunks grinned at that, a sad, small smile. He looked at 17's back, and tried to think of a way for both of them to be happy. "If you don't trust yourself, do you trust me? I mean, you said I scare you, but there's no real reason for me to do that. You're stronger than I am. You know how to fight, and could easily take me if I did something you didn't want me to do. Yet, you haven't. So... do you trust me?"

17 turned around, looking at the hybrid who still sat on his bed. "...Yes. I trust you."

"Then come back to bed," Trunks suggested, ducking his head slightly. "I promise, I'll be good. It will all be good."

"Trunks..." 17 sighed. Cautiously, he went over and knelt down on the bed. As soon as both knees were on the bed, Trunks was up, pressing against him, kissing him.

Trunks had his arms wrapped around 17's shoulders while his tail was wrapped as far around them both as it could go. He kept his mouth slanted across his lover's, kissing him with all the passion he could find and then some. He was going to go through with this. He was. He shivered as he felt 17's hands roaming his sides, flesh to flesh. Trunks didn't care what kind of flesh it was, just as long as it was 17's.

They seemed to be falling...

Trunks broke the kiss, needing air, and that's when he discovered that the sensation of falling had been true. 17 was on his back, his dark hair spilling across the pillows as he looked up at Trunks. Jerking upright, Trunks was a bit confused. He had never been on top of anyone like this. What was he supposed to do? "17?"

"Do what you want to, m'love. Do what you want," 17 said, tracing the curve of Trunks' jaw with a single finger.

Trunks sat back, staring down into the blue eyes of the synthetic male. His tail curled up behind him, a large question mark. Trunks felt excited, yet intimidated. He was in charge. At first, he was at a loss, but then he grinned, an expression the likes of which had never crossed his features before. He knew EXACTLY what he wanted. And if he was in charge, he was going get it.

The dark haired male caught his breath at the look on his lover's face. He could feel his heart beat increase, much like it did when he saw Lord Kakarrot ascend the first time. If he had normal flesh, he knew it would have prickled in anticipation of whatever idea Trunks had.

Leaning down, Trunks slanted his mouth over 17's again, already planning his next move. But until then, he planned on savoring this. He moaned into the kiss as he felt 17's hands stroke through his hair, massaging his scalp, even as the kiss was returned with fervor. He broke the kiss again, breathless and dizzy, resting his forehead against 17's. He gulped in air a few times before regaining his wits enough to move on.

Blue eyes closed in pleasure as 17 felt Trunks' hot mouth kissing and scraping teeth across his skin. Each sensation was separate, and unique, and felt very much as if the younger man were trying to tickle him with his tongue. He gasped slightly when Trunks began to tease his naval, surprised that such an area could feel tactile sensations. Surprised that he could feel any of this, really. He couldn't feel pain. How was it that he was able to feel this?

Trunks maneuvered black sleep pants off of his lover carefully, and was grateful that 17 was willing to work with him without having to be asked to. He didn't know if he'd have been able to ask for that. He was enjoying himself, and he didn't understand why. But then, he knew he didn't -need- to understand. He simply had to savor it. When 17 was completely and utterly bare, Trunks sat back and looked at him, all of him. He let his eyes rake over 17's form, trying to memorize it all in one sitting. He had never seen 17 without -some- kind of clothing on because of his own inhibitions, and he now regretted that. "Gods, you're beautiful. Like artwork."

"I was created to be perfect," 17 replied softly, deeply effected by the younger man's words. 'And he wonders why I'm afraid of him...' He had never been modest before. It was always Trunks who turned away, as if he hadn't wanted to see 17 bare. He watched with hungry eyes as Trunks crawled back up, laying flat on top of him for a moment, their heated sexes pressed between their bodies.

"You are," Trunks whispered hoarsely, wondering why he was permitted this. He had done nothing in his life that he could think of to deserve this, but he was being granted it nonetheless. They fit perfectly together. Using his tail, he grabbed at the plate that was laying somewhere close to the head of the bed, right where 17 had left it -BEFORE- the were interrupted. He kissed 17 on the neck, right below the ear, before restating, "You are perfect."

Trunks sat back, allowing his legs to move to straddle 17's thighs. He traced one hand from 17's throat, all the way downward. He smiled as he saw a small, tiny bead of moisture forming at the tip of the android's sex. His tail flicked a few lotion beads forward, which Trunks easily caught. He smashed them together, rubbing them slowly between his two hands. "You know, ever since that first night, where you... gods... where you told me to touch myself, I've been thinking of this. And I wondered what it would have been like if you -would- have taken me, like I was begging you to do."

"Really?" 17 asked, his voice almost too soft to be called a whisper. "And what did you decide?"

"Nothing," Trunks said as he used one slick hand to prepare himself, letting it trail down his body and past his own erection and hanging spheres to a place that 17 wasn't able to see. The other hand had the android's full attention, anyway, as it grabbed his aching sex in a firm grip. Trunks grinned at the sudden hiss of air that greeted his action. "It was a fantasy. One of many."

17 choked on a laugh. And he thought things were happening quickly before?! His eyes narrowed slightly as Trunks began to stroke him, his smaller, paler hand moving swiftly. How had he lived this long without knowing this? His hips soon began to obey the commands given from his taskmaster, willing and eager to please. "Fantasies? Of me?"

"Shh," Trunks whispered. "Just wait. There's more." Trunks was already moving to the sounds of blood rushing in his ears. He had found his inner weakness, and had dutifully begun to rub it. It was... good. And it was just another way of following his lover's earlier orders to touch himself. When he was sure that 17's shaft was well lubricated, he moved. Rising up on his knees, he placed both hands on 17's abdomen, locking his blue eyes with the blue eyes of the dark haired guard.

17's back arched as a low, displeased moan was ripped out of his chest. It had felt so amazing to have trunks touching him like that. Why did he stop? He gripped Trunks' thighs, tugging at him to keep it up. And then he was embedded all the way into the demi-saiyajin, left gasping shuddering breaths under him, trying to figure out just what was going on. He could -FEEL-! And what he felt was -GOOD-! So very, very good!

Trunks sat up straight, looking down at the wild, wide eyes of the royal guard. He smiled, an expression that filled his entire face. 17 looked so... shocked. And he felt so good, so perfect, where he was, filling the younger man. His tail danced behind him, weaving through the air. He grabbed at 17's wrists, allowing the android to grab at his. Catching the android's eye again, Trunks grinned and then leaned back a bit. He began to ride his lover like that, his head falling back and his long hair able to brush against 17's legs as he moved.

"Trunks!" 17 cried out, the sharp sound bouncing off the walls only once. He dug his head and the heels of his feet into the giving mattress, thrusting up in anticipation of Trunks' next move. 'Gods!' 17 was aghast with wonder and awe. He had never, not even in his wildest imaginings, thought that anything could be even a fraction of what this was. He felt as if his entire body were supercharged, as if the world was already his, as if he was a God! He was aware of the tight grip that Trunks had on his arm, tighter than he'd ever imagine the demi-saiyajin capable of managing. But it didn't hurt. And even if he did somehow, manage to feel pain from it, it would have been a trivial sensation compared to the outright pleasure saturating his system.

"Gods," Trunks choked out. His body moved of its own accord, but it didn't matter. All he was aware of was the feel of 17 sliding in and out of him, pleasure like he'd never known nor understood. His entire body began to tighten in anticipation of what was to come, but he kept it in check, knowing that he wanted 17 to reach climax first. With that thought, he raised his head to look at his lover, smiling at the sight before him.

17's eyes were wide, and bleeding red light out. Splayed out across the pillow, his raven locks rippled with crimson reflections. His mouth was open, surprised shock. And then the red glow vanished as 17 closed his eyes, biting his lower lip to stifle his scream.

Trunks felt the hot rush enter him, filling him, and in a way cleansing him of everything that he had been, turning him into something else. Trunks dropped his head back again as his own orgasm slammed into him, robbing him of everything but the sight of 17's surprised blue eyes opening again. Finally, gasping, shivering with a cold that only then made itself known, Trunks collapsed to the bed. Their bodies no longer joined, but still remaining in contact.

Trunks closed his eyes as 17 began to clean him again, using the familiar red rag. When they were both cleaned off, Trunks moved to snuggle as close as he could to the other male. "Good?"

"Gods, yes." 17 said. "I... I didn't know that..."

"That it could be pleasurable? Neither did I. But... I think YOU were what made it good for me," Trunks yawned. "You were... perfect."

"I was built to be," 17 replied automatically. He pulled Trunks closer, rubbing his hands over the younger man's still slightly sweaty skin. He was still amazed that he was able to feel that. He FELT that. All the way to his core. He was surprised that the bomb that remained inside of him hadn't gone off! "Trunks?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

"Hmn."

"For... that. For that sensation."

"Mm-hmm," Trunks murmured back, already more asleep than awake.

17 kissed the top of Trunks' purple-haired head, and that's when his eye caught sight of his own forearm. Rising from where it was draped over the other's back, he inspected his wrist. Bruised. It would heal before dawn, but the dark purple and blue stain over his flesh appeared to be one that he might have received while sparring with Prince Gohan, before ascension. A sign that Trunks was at least physically strong, even if he didn't know how to use it. Pushing the fact away for the moment, 17 returned to the task of rubbing his lover's back. It was infinitely more pleasing than thinking of tactics. He grinned to himself as he whispered, "I love you."

Trunks' sigh was his only response.

***

Jeice leaned against the metal railing of a platform overlooking the departure bay, his eyes fixed on his new ship. -His- ship. Never in all his life had he ever considered he'd be made a captain and have his own ship; he'd always been more of the follower-type rather than a leader. But Captain Ginyu was dead, as was Recoom, and the Ginyu Force no longer existed. No wonder they were being split up. 'At least I get to take Burter with me,' he thought. 'I don't know what I'd do if they sent me without him.'

But would they be separated if Demon Lord Piccolo had -not- won the tournament? Jeice still couldn't believe the green man had won. Part of him wondered how much more power there was contained behind the peaceful façade. The Demon Lord was a great warrior -- that much was irrefutably obvious -- but his demeanor bespoke of someone who used violence as a last measure. Shaking his head, the new captain didn't want to think on it anymore.

Staring out over the bay, Jeice reminisced on his arrival at this exact moment. They'd come such a long way, hadn't they? First, to be beaten, though not killed, one by one at Lord Kakarrot's hands. Then, coming into his service once Lord Frieza had been destroyed. The Ginyu Force had become loyal, despite their dislike for the saiyajin. But they were no more. He'd known Ginyu would be killed eventually; that man had never been all that bright. However, Recoom's death had been much harder to take once they'd heard of it. Was it only four days before that Jeice had last been dining with the huge brute? Then they'd all been beaten again, only Recoom had gotten stupid. 'Ginyu must've finally worn off on him after all these years. What was he -thinking-?! He never should've tried to kill Vegeta. Even Lord Frieza wouldn't have allowed that when he was still alive. Stupid, stupid, stupid.'

Then there was Burter, with whom he'd always been the best of friends, but now... Now, they were something more. They had been friends with benefits while Ginyu was in charge, as their old leader forbade them from actually having any kind of outside relationships. It was a weakness. But even after Ginyu died, Jeice found that he didn't want to go to anyone else. And miracle upon miracles, Burter felt the same way. So, their relationship changed, yet they didn't.

"Is that your new vessel?" asked a voice behind him, pulling him from his reverie.

Jeice turned to see the shorter, more rotund Guldo standing in the doorway. "Yeah, mate," he nodded. "Burter and I'll be leaving with our crew at sunrise in the morning."

"Where are they sending you?" Guldo inquired, folding his stubby arms across his chest.

"Caulengar," Jeice replied, making a sour face. Trying hard to focus on the two eyes in the middle of Guldo's face, he blinked a few times to keep his own eyes straight. For some reason the two bulbous orbs on top of Guldo's head made Jeice's sight go wonky. "Then we're patrolling."

"Caulengar," Guldo repeated. "Is that the planet that smells like sweaty, filthy ass?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Purging it?"

"Yeah."

"Good. That planet needs it."

"It's the people, not the planet. And they'll all be gone quickly," Jeice smirked.

Guldo returned his own version of a smirk. "I imagine the planet would be quite nice afterwards."

"I'd like to think so." The orange-skinned male moved over to his once-brethren and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry you're going to miss it."

"I don't mind, actually," responded the rounder man. "I have things I need to do here."

"Really?" inquired the captain. He wasn't aware that Guldo would be having much to do now, especially with the deconstruction of the Ginyu Force. He really should have been joining him and Burter. "Like what?"

"Don't concern yourself with them," Guldo said quietly, almost scolding the taller warrior. No, he didn't want this to affect Jeice and Burter. It would only make things more difficult. Someone had to remain after all. Changing his tone to something nicer, but ultimately darker, he explained, "It's better if you don't know. It's safer. Don't ask."

"Are you being just incredibly stupid again, mate?"

"Yes," smiled Guldo. "But it's fair."

Suddenly, Jeice let out a huge yawn he didn't even know he'd been holding back. "Oy, I'm tired. What time is it?" Pressing a couple of buttons on his scouter, the white-haired male nearly fell over. "Nearly 11?! Not only are we leaving in seven hours, and I haven't even packed, but it's almost curfew! The princes will flay us alive if they catch us out after curfew. I'm sorry, mate, but I gotta get back to Burter. You should get going too."

Guldo watched him go, then left the area himself. He was glad he wasn't accompanying his former team members on their mission. If he were, all his planning would be for nothing, and his timing would've been ruined. But as things stood, everything was going to be fine. It was even better, in fact, now that Jeice and Burter wouldn't be around to deal with the aftermath. First, Lord Frieza. Then, Captain Ginyu. And finally, Recoom. 'The saiyajins are a pestilence on this universe. If only they could all be annihilated. No. It just needs to hurt.' Guldo grinned self-righteously as he walked towards his Level 2 room. 'Before the year is out,' he decided. 'He'll know. I'll make him remember. Lord Kakarrot should have known better than to allow the extermination of the Ginyu Force.'

***

Goten was exhausted. Having left his father in the medical lab early that afternoon, it was now past midnight, and he was nearly dead on his feet. His initial course of action had been to inform Jeice of his new position. Unfortunately for the prince, the smaller male practically jumped his mate Burter to 'celebrate' right in front of him. 'They didn't even wait for me to leave the room!' he thought, disgusted.

After that, came the assigning of guards to his brother, just for safe measure.

Then came the readying of the suites, giving orders and various directions on what was to be done. That, in any case, had gone very well. The new suites were ready. He'd stopped by to check on the progress and was very pleased at the painstaking care the servants had taken with Piccolo's room. Needless to say, he'd given them the order to be meticulous, but that didn't matter. They'd been so careful that not even the most miniscule traces of their smell lingered in the grand suite. And all the changes he'd ordered had been completed with a precision he might have envied, had it not been their jobs to be so efficient.

Of course, then, he'd had to continue hunting down the guards. Vegeta's reaction had bothered the young demi-saiyajin. Was he frightened of Yamcha? It had certainly appeared that way. Sure the human was stronger than Vegeta, but... Goten could've sworn there was something between the two. There were rumors about them, but nothing the rest of the nosey masses could substantiate. Nothing even -he- could substantiate. Yet Goten had witnessed the regard Yamcha had for Vegeta. It first made itself evident when the human continued to sneak out of his room at night to visit the shorter male, which inevitably ended with Ginyu's death and Vegeta's return to guard duty. But their story didn't end there. The human had saved his -life-, for the gods' sakes! If that wasn't proof to the old saiyajin that Yamcha cared, then what would be? Maybe Vegeta was just ignorant.

And 18! What the hell was wrong with her?! Goten knew she'd never -wanted- to guard Krillin, but now, she did. What had happened that made her change her tune so quickly? As far as he'd observed, Krillin wasn't fond of 18 at all. Nevertheless, 18 did seem to pursue the short human somewhat. 'Oh. Well, that makes sense now,' Goten realized. 'She wants what she can't have. Heh. She's going about it the wrong way though. You can't -force- them to want you. If Gohan can't make it happen, then neither can she. Stupid girl.'

Nothing, however, had prepared him for the sight in 17's room. He hadn't known how -involved- they were. There had always been rumors, and he knew that Trunks was more or less 17's to care for and command. But, he had thought it more or less the role of default protector, or substitute father. He had known of -those- roles for the two for a long time, one of the reasons he took Trunks to go see 17 after finding him in the hall that one time. That day in the back room of the tournament waiting area had been a little strange since Goten saw them kiss, brief as it was. But he had no idea it was proceeding past that in private. And seemingly -far- past simply kissing. Trunks had been naked, after all. It occurred to him that perhaps 17 was using Trunks like many of the others had been, but an act like that appeared... beneath the android. Certainly he was better than a rapist, and Trunks did look willing. Goten shook his head. No. It had to be a relationship. And if 17 and Trunks were lucky, the rest of the palace would think what he'd thought first: that 17 was merely using the lavender-haired demi-saiyajin, and had been for some time. Nevertheless, Goten began to consider this as something useful. He could use it when the time came.

Sighing to himself, Goten came to a stop outside of a familiar door. There was one last thing he had to do. Or, he didn't -have- to, but he thought that it was something that he -should- do. He savored the moment, as his entire system was flooded with a strange sensation. He felt... alive! His heartbeat increased, his blood flowed thickly, and his breathing was a bit deeper than normal. And he wasn't even through the door! Suppressing an idiotic grin, Goten rang for admittance.

The door hissed open quietly, allowing the youngest prince to enter the room, before sliding just as quietly closed again. Piccolo was sitting in a lotus position in the corner, his eyes sliding open at the intrusion. He acknowledged his guest with a grin and nod, unfolding his legs so that he could stand. "Rather late for you to be up, isn't it?"

"I had to come by," Goten said, a slight blush creeping across his features. He was giddy just from looking at Piccolo. "I... Well, I had a real reason to come here, something to tell you. But... It's kinda gone now."

"I see," Piccolo smirked. "I take it that it's been a long day for you."

"Yes, well, with your defeat of my brother... Lots of things to do," Goten grinned around a small yawn.

"How is Prince Gohan doing?" Piccolo said, indicating Goten to take a seat upon the bed. When the prince was situated, he moved to sit against the headboard so that he could be close to the prince, but not too close.

"Oh, he'll be in the rejuvenation chamber for another day," Goten nodded, shifting so that only one leg dangled off the bed, and his tail curled high behind him.

"I wasn't aware I injured him that badly," Piccolo said softly, worried. Every time Gohan got hurt, he always got stronger. He'd have to keep an eye on the demi-saiyajin, just in case.

"Neither were we. He didn't look that bad at the end of the match." Goten gave him a small smile. He ducked his head as he confessed, "By the way, I'm very glad you won."

"That I won the match? I heard your cheers," noted the larger male. There was no point in informing Goten that he had used them as a form of psychological weaponry against his brother. Well, no reason of which Piccolo could think. "Why is it that you cheered for me rather than your brother?"

"Heh. You realize that my brother was very favored to win, don't you?" Goten said as his tail snapping through the air behind him, a sign of his displeasure, but it quickly stilled again. "My father, in his infinite wisdom, proposed a wager with some very, very high stakes."

"Oh?" Piccolo asked, his curiosity piqued. "And what did you win?"

"Well, if you won," Goten explained with a huge grin, "then I wouldn't have to live up to my princely duties and deliver children to my father. So... I've got my freedom. Finally."

"And what would have happened if Prince Gohan had won?" Piccolo inquired.

"The opposite," Goten spoke softly, his eyes clouding with something like sorrow or regret. "I would've had to... sleep with someone my father chose. And probably with him or Gohan as an enforcer. Because it would need that."

"I see," Piccolo whispered, reaching out with his hand to bring Goten's face up before gently stroking his cheek. "Well, I'm glad I won, too. I wouldn't want... Heh. I'm just glad I won."

Goten literally sank into the caress, moving over to Piccolo and leaning into him, snuggling his face into the broad, green chest. Yawning wider and letting his eyes fall shut as Piccolo began to stroke his hair, he sleepily asked, "What wouldn't you want, Piccolo?"

Piccolo allowed his sharp nails to scrape delicately through Goten's thick spikes as he rapidly thought of a reply to that. That thrice-damned voice was back again, whispering to him, 'Because he belongs to you, and no king or brother or anyone else in this universe is going to get in your way.' He sighed as he failed in shaking it away. He had to figure out where those thoughts were coming from, he really did. Hitting upon another idea, he replied softly, "No one should be forced to do something they don't want to do unless there's no other option. It isn't right. It isn't just."

Goten sighed as he nuzzled against the larger warrior. His tail moved to lie across the backs of his legs and drape over Piccolo's. "Do you mind if I stay here? Like this. For the rest of the night. I'm not sure I'd make it to my room."

Piccolo grinned before he shifted them into a more comfortable position, "Sure. You can stay. Stay for as long as you like. No one's forcing you to do anything."

While Goten fell asleep against him, Piccolo allowed his mind to roam. He reflected briefly on the information that Krillin had brought to him earlier. A way home. A return to his duties. For some reason, that thought didn't bring about as much pleasure as he thought it should have. But, they had to wait for the proper opening in time and space before the window would open and allow them to leave. It had to be timed just right. As interesting as those thoughts were, they didn't hold Piccolo's interest for long.

Piccolo ended up trying to figure out from where his strange thoughts were coming. They were suspiciously quiet when meditating, as if they knew that, if found, he'd tried to exorcise them. But as soon as Goten came into the room, that voice was there, saying some of the strangest things, and using his own voice! At the same time, he had to acknowledge that some of what they said was... true. Which was just way too confusing to think about while Goten was laying on his chest, breathing softly over patches of his bare flesh. Taking a deep breath, Piccolo told himself that he would have to meditate on this problem in the morning, when he could think.

'We still have time, anyway.'