Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Kingdom Come ❯ Chapter 17: Empty Places ( Chapter 17 )

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

WARNING: See Chapter 1

Kingdom Come
~ Chapter 17Lord Kakarrot gazed out over the lands as the heavy rains saturated them. He hated the rain. Every year, it rained nearly incessantly during the eighth month and on into the ninth month. Rolling his eyes slightly, he continued down the windowed hallway towards his wife's room. The emperor didn't particularly care to see her but hadn't visited her in a few days and felt she was due to perform her duties.

Suddenly, he came to an abrupt halt. He smelled something. Something incredibly familiar and usually welcome. But not in the palace. Breaking into a run, he followed his nose to Lady Chichi's room. Stepping inside, the door slid shut behind him, trapping him with the overwhelming stench. Only taking a few more steps, he tripped over something and fell to the floor. "Lights!" he yelled.

Nappa stared into the royal saiyajin's eyes. Upon further inspection, Lord Kakarrot became aware that it was only Nappa's head. It had been his body over which the emperor tripped. Leaping up from the floor, he whipped his head around, looking for Chichi. He placed his hand on his chest, breathing a sigh of relief; she was still sleeping. Moving closer, he began to wonder when the normally white sheets had been changed for maroon ones.

Of course, then he realized they hadn't been changed. They were just stained.

Gritting his teeth, the saiyajin grabbed the top of the sheet near the lady's neck and yanked it off of the bed. Perfect lines stretched across her naked body, starting from her neck down to her ankles, each one equal in distance apart, except for the large, jagged hole blown out from just above her sex. It was only afterwards that he noticed the pillow lying next to her head. Exhaling harshly through his nose, he exited the room, the bloody words from the pillow screaming in his head.

'No more heirs...'

***

Goten adjusted his scouter as he quickly made his way to his mother's room in the west wing. His father hadn't said why he needed to go there, but he had said 'at -once-', which meant something was horribly amiss. Luckily for the young demi-saiyajin, he'd received the call just after he'd exited the shower. If the call had come a mere half an hour sooner, he would've still been in Piccolo's room, and that would've been an even bigger mess to have on his hands. Rounding the corner in the hallway, he began to run. If his father's words had not been indication enough, the reek of blood in this part of the palace was enough to make him certain that something truly was wrong.

The door to Lady Chichi's room stood open, and Goten finally saw the carnage he could smell from far away. Lord Kakarrot stood with his back to the room, his tail hanging low but the tip of it continuously jerking, staring out the window into the rain pouring down on the palace. Faintly, Goten heard retching sounds coming from the bathing chamber, and a few moments later, Gohan walked out of there, wiping his mouth on the back of his gloves.

"Oh, good. You're here," Gohan said, trying to pass it off as a greeting. His tail hung loosely behind him, helping him balance himself. His eyes swept the area again, and he suppressed a gag. "Isn't this just..."

"Obscene," supplied Goten. He kept his eyes on Nappa for the time being, examining the perfectly intact body and head separately. Walking past Gohan, he went into the bathing chamber and came back out with a pair of clear plastic gloves adorning his hands. Returning to Nappa's location, he prodded the head a bit with one finger, his tail wrapped securely around him and hooked in the back -- so as to not contaminate the scene -- as he usually did when he was working.

"Well, actually, I was thinking 'gross'," Gohan retorted. "I mean, I just blow them away. This is sick."

Goten snorted from his crouched position. "Well, you -would- know what 'sick' is, wouldn't you?" he muttered under his breath.

"Did you just say something?" the older prince asked, distracted.

"Merely making an observation for myself." Moving Nappa's head around, he picked it up, turning it over in his hands until he finally turned it to face him. A gelatinous substance leaked from the oversized nostrils, causing Goten to scrunch up his face as he watched it slowly ooze downward. Then, the frown of disgust turned to one of inquiry. 'This looks familiar,' he thought. Dropping the head apathetically onto the floor, he walked over to his mother's bed, where her body still lay untouched.

"Oh. Whatever, then," Gohan remarked as he turned away, feeling slightly lightheaded. He had to breath through his mouth so as not to actually smell the stench in the room. He never was one to shirk blood during battle, but he hated it as an aftertaste.

Without further delay, Lord Kakarrot spun around and glared at his sons. "Are you two quite finished?!" he barked. "I didn't call you here to listen to you complain. I want to know who did this, and I want to know -NOW-!"

Goten stared down at his mother's face, her eyes closed and her face completely relaxed. If not for the blood surrounding her, she would've looked peaceful to him for the first time in her life. He knew how Gohan, he, and his father had treated her in the past and thought perhaps she might've preferred death. Regardless, he had a job to do and couldn't afford to waste time on trivial thoughts. Goten gingerly lifted her head from the bed, an easy feat considering the perpetrator had sliced through her neck. The same as with Nappa, Chichi's brains leaked out of from her nose.

"Is that really necessary, Goten?" spat his father. It unnerved him the way his youngest son was acting, as if he were stabbing at an animal that was obviously dead. 'Beating a dead horse,' he thought, remembering something that his lovely Bulma had once said, though he knew that the aphorism meant something other than what he was witnessing.

"Yes," his younger son stated.

Nodding, Lord Kakarrot folded his arms across his chest, narrowing his eyes, even as his tail made one final snap before encircling his royal waist. "How soon can you tell me who did this?"

"Well, as there is no one in the palace or otherwise that would be fast enough to take such... care in dissecting Nappa and the Lady, that person would have had to have some sort of mental hold on them, and there's really only one person who possesses that sort of ability," pointed out Goten, as he gently placed his mother's head back on her body. After seeing the identical occurrence in his mother as Nappa, Goten had determined he'd seen that exact reaction a few times before, all having the common link of being the same person's victim. Looking back up at his father and Gohan, he inquired, "Has anyone seen Guldo lately...?"

A loud snarl echoed through the room. "Find him," Lord Kakarrot hissed. "Find him, and kill him."

***

Krillin sat across from 18 as they ate a late lunch. The food was delicious, much to Krillin's glee. Apparently, an 'accident' named Lord Kakarrot had befallen the previous cook, who overcooked everything. But now, the food was better than ever. On top of that, it was raining outside! He hadn't really noticed rain since they'd gotten there, yet it had been raining for the past three days straight. He didn't think this day could get any better... until he saw Vegeta and Yamcha, also taking a late lunch, exit the food line. "Yamcha!" Krillin called out to his friend, waving them over to his table.

"Hey, Krillin, 18," greeted the scarred human. Knowing how much 18 and Vegeta did not get along, Yamcha chose to sit next to her, allowing Vegeta the more amiable presence of Krillin, who had no real problems with the saiyajin. "Man. I feel like I haven't seen you in forever!"

"No kidding," the bald man chuckled. "It's been, what? Five or six weeks since the tournament?"

"Six," the blonde android corrected. She was not thrilled by the interruption, but she was at a loss on how to get rid of them. Despite the orders to keep the guests separated, it was also part of the instructions to be discreet and subtle. To separate them now would be far too obvious. And it might cause some questions to arise. None of them, she knew, were stupid. They would ask questions.

"Too long," Yamcha nodded. Starting in on his food, he ate a few bites before offering up an explanation from out of nowhere. "Just been busy, I guess."

"Yeah. I hear ya," Krillin agreed, trying to eat and talk at the same time. He also tried to figure out a way to get Yamcha alone. He hadn't even had the opportunity to tell his longtime friend about Mr. Popo and the chance to go home yet!

"So, what do you think of your new digs?" Yamcha asked, curious. "Mine are pretty good. A lot nicer than what we first got."

"Yeah. They're great and all," Krillin nodded, munching. He looked over at Vegeta who had his head down, staring at his plate, with his tail wrapped almost loosely around his waist. Turning back to Yamcha, he added, "But there's hardly any room to perform a real kata."

"Really?" Yamcha queried. He thought about it, and acknowledged that space was rather limited in his place too in some areas.

"Yeah. And you remember what Piccolo said. It's -important- to stay in practice," Krillin said, emphasizing 'important'. He hoped that Yamcha would pick up on it, as he didn't want to have to be too blatant.

"Yeah, he is rather fond of that," Yamcha remarked, eyeing his friend. "So, do you have something in mind?"

"How about a sparring session?" Krillin suggested, a light smirk on his face. "If you're not tired or anything."

"Heh. Not hardly," Yamcha shot right back. "When and where, 'DeVito'?"

"Outside in the rain, Pacino," Krillin retorted, stifling a giggle.

Yamcha laughed aloud, drawing a few uninvited stares. Neither he nor Krillin cared. "How about after lunch? But before dinner. And, um, NOT in the rain."

"All right," Krillin agreed happily. He hadn't wanted to get wet anyway. "I think there's a covered sparring grounds close to the arena."

"There is," Vegeta said quietly. "And it's highly unlikely that anyone is there today."

"Yeah. With the murders and all," Yamcha agreed, his voice softening out of respect for the dead.

"No. More that they are all looking to see who is going to be assigned ship duty," 18 informed the humans, a bit aggravated that Vegeta was offering suggestions to them. Didn't he know that they were supposed to be keeping them apart? If not, she'd be more than happy to explain it to him. Physically. "It is an honor to 'serve' Prince Gohan or Lord Kakarrot."

"When you say 'serve'," Yamcha began, turning to look at the blonde female, "what kind of 'serve' are you talking about here? It almost sounds as if--"

Krillin waved his hands back and forth rapidly in front of his face as Yamcha began asking a question he really didn't want to hear the answer to again, finally reaching out and gripping the other male's wrists tightly. "Oh, he knows what you meant," Krillin uncomfortably responded. "He was just being silly, right, Yamcha?"

When Yamcha frowned in confusion at him, the much shorter human mouthed, "Shut. Up."

An awkward silence fell over the table for a few minutes before Yamcha began speaking again, doing his best to avoid looking at 18. "So, after lunch, wanna go spar?"

"Yes. I think that'd be a great idea," Krillin said, relieved.

The rest of the meal passed in relative silence as they finished off their plates. Then it was off to the covered arena, Vegeta leading the way with Yamcha and Krillin behind him, and 18 taking rear guard sullenly.

"Wow, it's like a high school gym," Krillin commented, looking up. "With a... really high ceiling."

"Well, let's give it a go, man," grinned Yamcha, trotting towards the center of the floor, with Krillin following behind him.

As Krillin and Yamcha began their light sparring on the arena floor, 18 moved to stand beside Vegeta. "You just take the cake," she ground out.

Turning slightly to glance at her, Vegeta remained quiet. He knew it didn't matter if he responded to her words or not, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to avoid any blow that he might be able to see coming.

"Were you or were you not given the order to keep the guests apart?" she asked.

Vegeta shrugged. "I was told to keep their socializing down to a minimum."

"And you think that would include allowing them to spar? What are you, mentally deficient?" 18 spat. "You didn't have to mention this place."

"If either of us had discouraged it, they would've seen through it," Vegeta stated. "Perhaps you take them for fools, but I will not underestimate them."

The blond android snorted derisively, dismissing Vegeta's fears. "That is because they are obviously stronger than you. They are not, however, stronger than me."

"Is that so?" Vegeta asked, his eyebrow quirking. Smiling softly, he jerked his head to where the two humans were already engaged in a mild workout for them, though it was far above what was normal for most of the citizens of the palace.

The shorter man's guard looked at the scene with narrowed blue eyes. They were -not- stronger than her. It was impossible.

Krillin took to the air, prompting Yamcha to give chase. Both continued to throw rapid punches and kicks that never landed. "I got some news for you," Krillin said, ducking a kick.

"Oh?" Yamcha queried, spinning away a few feet. "What kind of news?"

"We can go home, Yamcha," grinned the shorter human, keeping his voice low. "Back to our world."

"No shit?" asked the scarred male. "What? When? How?"

"After we got separated on the last day of the tournament," Krillin began, starting up the faux workout again, "I ran into an old friend of ours: Mr. Popo."

"He's still alive?" Yamcha gasped. "I had no idea."

"Dude, you would not believe the craziness I found out," Krillin said, shaking his head, "but that's not important. What -is- important is that he has the Mirror of Janus."

"Mirror of who-ey?" The dark-haired male paused, one of Krillin's punches nearly hitting its mark.

"The mirror," reiterated Krillin. "You know. That brought us here."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah," Yamcha nodded. "So he has it?"

"Yeah, and once the time is right, we can use it to go back to our world." Krillin sighed. "I can't wait to get away from here."

Yamcha nodded again, but he wasn't so sure about returning home. He didn't have much more than a nice place to live and money to which to go back. But here... Here, he had Vegeta. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. "Say, Krillin," he started, "do you think we could bring Vegeta back with us? I mean, this place is no place for him."

"I don't see why not," shrugged the smaller man. Smirking, he added, "Besides the fireworks when he meets the Vegeta from our world oughta be interesting enough on their own. Heh. Hell, I'd -pay- to see that. Gee, I hope Vegeta doesn't kill... himself. Or something."

"I don't think Vegeta, our Vegeta would care," Yamcha said slowly, thinking aloud. "I mean, he rarely pays attention to things that are weaker than him. Hell, he rarely pays attention to anything other than himself. He won't even realize that m-uh... this Vegeta is there. So, let's include him in our plans to return home."

"You got it. I'll relay it to Piccolo. Or you can if you get a chance to see him," Krillin said. "Anyway, the window is New Year's Eve, stroke of midnight. As cheesy and as cliché as that is, that's when we're able to leave."

"I'll be ready," Yamcha replied, a warmth filling his soul. Home! They were all going to be going home! Krillin, and Piccolo, and Vegeta, and himself! All of them. He couldn't wait! He'd have to tell Vegeta. "We're going home. Thank Dende..."

For another hour and a half, Krillin and Yamcha continued their spar, catching up on things they'd learned and things they wanted to discuss, but eventually, the two humans noticed the boredom of their guards. Feeling a little guilty at having sparred so long and being a little tired themselves, they floated to the ground and bowed to each other, ending the light match. They went as far as up the lift together but separated once again as Krillin and 18 got out on Level 4.

Vegeta eyed Yamcha curiously as they walked down the hall to his room a few levels up. The human grinned from ear to ear, and Vegeta could practically feel happiness coming off of him in waves. 'Where is this coming from?' the saiyajin wondered. 'Surely not from a simple spar.' He waited until the doors closed behind him to unfurl his tail and silently ask what was on the human's mind with a tilt of his head.

Yamcha, grinning like a lunatic and knowing it, flopped down on his back onto the bed. He stared up at the ceiling for a good few minutes before sitting up. He had to mentally restrain himself from jumping up and down like a child. "Guess what, Vegeta!"

Vegeta, who was beginning to understand a good many of his charge's strange quirks, was glad for the standard answer to this question. "What?"

"We're going home!" Yamcha rejoiced, visibly overjoyed at the news. He was so blinded by this news, he missed seeing the look of outright horror on Vegeta's face.

They were leaving. Yamcha was leaving! Vegeta's tail fell behind him as if it suddenly was filled with heavy metal and became more of a broken toy sewed on than an actual appendage. He closed his eyes against the pain as all his internal organs dropped through the floor. All save one, which pulsed inside his throat threatening to make him sick. His breathing picked up as he opened his eyes. Yamcha was leaving him! Leaving him to this hell that was made all the worse because of the past month's taste of heaven. It wasn't fair! It wasn't right! It couldn't be happening!

"We'll all be leaving this insanity, going home to family and friends and better places than this!" Yamcha practically sang. He couldn't wait to take Vegeta home, rescue him from this accursed dimension. He didn't care what anyone else said or did or thought; the erstwhile prince was coming with them. He'd find a way for it to happen. He loved him, and there wasn't anything that anyone could do about it. "Isn't it fantastic?"

The small saiyajin's head pounded. They were leaving. Yamcha was leaving.

Each word was like a stab, straight into Vegeta's soul. Before the human could say another word, Vegeta pounced on him, frantically trying to shut off the flow of gut-wrenching words.

Yamcha fell back onto the bed with a laugh, taken slightly aback by the desperation in the saiyajin's move. He wasn't one who was adverse to a bit of rough play, though. There were no smooth caresses. There were no whispered words of affection. There was no gentleness in any of Vegeta's actions. His kisses were dominating and demanding. His hands clutched and pulled and took. His tail snaked around Yamcha's wrists, capturing him and refusing to let him go. Clothes were an obstacle that didn't last, but somehow managed to be removed without tearing. There was hunger. There was need. There was a frantic desperation the likes of which Vegeta had never given into before.

When he was fully embedded in the human's body, he watched their bodies moving together, grateful that at least Yamcha was reduced to incoherency by that time. He began chanting over and over again, a mantra that he knew would haunt him every night, "I want to remember. I want to remember. I want to remember. Dear gods, I want to remember..."

And afterwards, when there were no words remembered by either of them, and only Vegeta remained awake, his arms wrapped tightly, possessively around his human lover, he gave into the silent tears that demanded their own release. Why, after so long of living a walking death, had he been granted to remember what life could be like, only to have it snatched away again? What deity did he piss off? And what could he do to make up for it so that Yamcha would stay with him, always and forever...

Choking occasionally, Vegeta began to croon softly, whispering in his native tongue everything he couldn't say in Yamcha's.

***

The door hissed open, allowing 17 to enter his room. No lights were on, but that didn't matter to the android, who was quite aware of his room and its contents. Trunks was already asleep, curled up on his side of the bed with one arm thrown out to 17's. Sitting lightly on the edge of the bed, 17 began to pull off his absurd gloves.

"Want me to help with your boots?" Trunks asked sleepily.

"You don't have to get up," 17 answered softly, turning to watch as Trunks sat up.

"The faster you undress, the sooner you come to bed," Trunks retorted, crawling to the edge of the bed and then to the floor. He grinned through the shadows of the room, absently brushing his hair out of his face, as he grabbed the first boot to begin tugging it off. "So, how was your day?"

"It was uneventful guarding, but not an uneventful day," 17 said as he pulled his foot out from the boot.

Tumbling back a bit with the escape of 17's foot from the booted prison, the demi-saiyajin giggled slightly. "Yeah. I know what you mean. I followed the events as best as I could, but not even I could keep up with everything."

"Oh?" 17 asked, wiggling his toes after Trunks snatched off his sock as a follow up to the boot.

"Yeah." Trunks grinned, grabbing the other boot to repeat the process. "But I got the gist of it. You know, it's really easy for me to get into the cracks of even Lady Chichi's rooms, and I heard and saw a lot of things. Fortunately, from everything I've gathered, I'm glad I couldn't actually see her room," Trunks grunted as he fell backwards again, the boot still in his hands.

"I heard that it was truly gruesome," 17 said softly, standing up on his bare feet to start removing the rest of his clothing.

"Yeah. It was. It made Prince Gohan throw up in the bathroom. Several times," Trunks said as he got back into bed. He waited for 17 to slide under the covers with him before curling around him, resting his head on 17's chest. "Anyway, I saw Lord Kakarrot, Prince Gohan, and Prince Goten leaving together. I crept after them, listening. And listened to them as they found more evidence. It seems that the crime was committed last night, and Guldo already had an escape planned so, now, no one knows where he's gone. Lord Kakarrot and Prince Gohan are going to be taking their own ships to go look for him in the first and third quadrants. They're going to kill him, of course. It'll be interesting to see how Jeice and his new task force handle the search in quadrant four. Some other search party is going to be looking in the second quadrant."

"Yes. I know that part. Prince Gohan wanted me or 18 to be in charge of that search party, but Lord Kakarrot knew that we would be unable to assist. First, we are on guard duty, and we cannot be called back unless we are willing. Second, it was thought that Prince Goten should be left behind to run things while they were gone, and that we would be the best choice of back up should anything... unforeseeable occur," 17 said as he wrapped his arm around his lover.

"Heh. You should have heard some of the things they said, though," Trunks laughed. "Lord Kakarrot was almost beside himself. He had his tail wrapped so tightly around him, you'd think it really belonged to my sire. He was a bit disturbed by Prince Goten's actions, I think. Anyway, he was also ranting about the words left on the pillow, 'No More Heirs', ya know. Some of the words he used, I didn't think that he knew. I mean, they're like low class words."

"Lord Kakarrot wasn't always an emperor. He started out as a nobody," 17 reminded the younger male.

"Huh." Trunks sighed, nestling down further into 17's chest. "I didn't really get it, you know? Why'd Guldo do it? And 'No more heirs.' What did he mean by that?"

"I can only guess as to why he did it, love," the android answered, calmly stroking the demi-saiyajin's lavender locks. "Revenge maybe? Captain Ginyu and Recoom were killed. And Jeice and Burter were sent away. Perhaps he felt... betrayed."

"But why'd he kill Lady Chichi and her guard then?" Trunks questioned. "Shouldn't he have killed Lord Kakarrot or Prince Gohan instead?"

"They're too strong. He wouldn't be able to do anything against them," 17 pointed out. Suddenly, it was as if light was shed on the situation. "Heh. Of course. That's why he chose Lady Chichi. It makes sense now."

"What?" the demi-saiyajin asked.

"If you can't physically harm someone, how else would you injure them? You attack the thing that's most important to them," the dark-haired male explained. "It's common knowledge that Lord Kakarrot yearns for more heirs to sustain the empire. And since Prince Gohan appears unable to produce heirs, and Prince Goten won't, Guldo attacked the only person who -has- been able to do so. Lady Chichi."

"You know, I don't understand Prince Goten," Trunks remarked. "When Lord Kakarrot went to go call for the sanitation service to come and clean the room, the prince spoke up and said that he would take care of Lady Chichi's body. And of Nappa's. All the cleaners would have to do would be to sanitize the room. Of course, that -really- creeped out Lord Kakarrot and Prince Gohan. I could practically hear their tails stiffening and tightening."

"They probably think he's going to take them to his lair and have his way with their corpses," 17 smirked.

"Eww! Gross!" Trunks groaned. "Seriously, what do you think he's going to do with them? Have you ever seen him 'handle' a dead body?"

"From personal experience, no," 17 answered. "But I know what he does with them nonetheless. After he investigates them, he usually burns them. From some human cultures, it's a sign of respect. Also, some religions think it is a way to free the spirit. I, personally, have no clue and don't really care. I just think it's a convenient way to save space and save a lot of digging. He's very practical. And contrary to what a lot of palace gossip says, he's no monster. Just very reserved. Unlike his family."

"Yeah. You'll never believe how spoiled Prince Gohan was acting. He was throwing a hissy fit because he wouldn't be home for his birthday celebration," Trunks said, his fingers playing over 17's abdomen. He had never really been able to celebrate his own birthday and envied the prince for being able to have a party on his. "But when he found out that he was also going to be planet purging, he was a bit happier about things. Sex and violence are all he really knows, I guess."

"I heard that he wasn't too thrilled with the idea, so he chose the more 'attractive' warriors at his disposal, not the strongest. I think he may be planning on throwing his own party," 17 remarked, long practiced at keeping the contempt out of his voice. Whereas Goten was a threat, Gohan was more of a disgusting pain. Whorish, and arrogant, and for the most part, worthless, 17 had never been able to fathom why he was allowed to continue on in his errant ventures. Granted, at the rate things were going, the boy never would turn into a man, and would thankfully never sire any mongrel children. But still, there was an element of responsibility, of decorum, of... taste that the elder prince never could manage to attain. It wasn't 17's place to criticize, though. It was his job to follow orders, and that was what he did.

"Yeah. They all left close to dinner time," Trunks answered. "I guess this leaves the rest of us to our own devices."

"I rather think that even with Lord Kakarrot and Prince Gohan gone, things will continue as they are," 17 smiled. "Just to be safe."

"Safe? Are we ever really safe here?" asked Trunks.

"Here? Probably not. But... it's the best we have," 17 replied, shifting so that he took had Trunks laying almost fully on him, the lavender tail curled up around their legs. "And as long as I have you, it's by far better than wonderful."

Trunks blushed at that, but had nothing to reply with.

"Of course, we both know that Piccolo and his troupe are going to be going home at the end of this year. He has asked if we would like to come," 17 sighed.

"Yeah. But I can't leave my mother. And... I don't think I'd feel safe there, ya know. I mean, this is where I grew up. I -know- this place. I hear its voice and know its secrets and know where I am and what's where more by smell than by sight. I can't leave here."

"And I can't leave you," 17 answered. "That's just not an option."

"Thank you," Trunks said, raising up and placing a quick kiss on his lover's cheek.

"I tell you what. Next spring, I'll ask for some time off," 17 said, beginning to stroke the long tresses of Trunks' hair again. "Do you remember when you were younger, and I took you to the beach?"

"Heh. Yeah." Trunks grinned, remembering the feel of the ocean's salt stinging his skin, and the sand shifting under his feet. He had been terrified, and unused to wide-open spaces like that. But 17 had been there, and somehow it had turned into his favorite memory. "I remember."

"I think we could both use a trip like that, away from the Palace and all the bullshit that's going on here. And you could use some sun. You're very pale."

"Oh?" Trunks asked, raising his head. "Like the ghost everyone calls me?"

"Yeah." 17 smiled in the dark. "As in, if I try to touch you, my hand will pass right through."

"Really? Why don't you test that theory, then?" Trunks said impishly. "Go ahead. Touch me."

The android grinned in the darkness, letting both of his hands skim down the younger man's sides, dancing lightly over ribs. Trunks chuckled at the initial touch before moving to slant his mouth over 17's. The covers and sheet were tossed carelessly away from their bodies by an irritated lavender tail that wanted to play. Synthetic blue eyes danced with merriment as 17 grabbed at the curled appendage and ruffled the fur against the grain, granting him a shiver from the still dominant youth.

Ever since their first time together, their real first time, Trunks found that 17 always put him on top. It was strange, being in charge, feeling powerful. It added something totally exotic to the experience. Yet, Trunks knew that there was more to it than simply adding that new sensation. It was something more. It was like 17 was... worshiping him, almost. It sounded crazy when he put the thoughts into words, but it felt like it nonetheless. That part alone was enough to leave him shivering with something he felt deep inside, and it wasn't cold. But this time, he wanted something different. He wanted to abandon himself to 17, letting his dark-haired lover take control for once.

A dizzying kiss gave way to a quick roll, and 17 pulled up to discover that Trunks was now on his back, looking up at him with his blue eyes flashing slightly in the darkness. "Trunks?"

"Yeah?" Trunks asked, resting his head back on the pillow.

"What...?"

"Do what you want, m'love. Do what you want," Trunks whispered, repeating his lover's words.

"Are you sure?" 17 asked, gently brushing the back of one hand down Trunks' face to his throat.

"Yeah. I'm sure." Trunks sighed into the caress. The lavender haired male let out a soft gasp as 17 swooped down and placed a searing kiss over the pulse in his throat. It was a tender spot for him, an area that he knew was a vulnerability. But the way 17 used it to spin the most delicate web of sensations...

Trunks sighed as he luxuriated in 17's ministrations, simply soaking in the feelings and sensations. He was very lucky to have the dark-haired android. Very lucky. He'd have been dead a thousand times over if it hadn't had been for 17's intervention. And the intervention of his mother. They kept him alive and well and sane. Though, if 17 kept up the teasing, that sanity issue might come into question...

He knew he was lucky to have both of them. Luckier than Lady Chichi had been. Trunks was no one's fool. He knew that the Lady and he had a few things in common. They had been abused. They had been raped repeatedly. They had been weaker than most of the palace inhabitants. And they had rarely, if ever, been seen by anyone outside the palace, and for the most part, inside the palace as well. But unlike Lady Chichi, Trunks had people that cared about him, who did everything they could to make sure he stayed grounded. He had friends. He had a mother who loved him enough to sacrifice herself so that he could live, protected him when she could, taught him how to read and write and hide and think. He had 17, who took care of him and protected him when he was younger. And recently, he had Demon Lord Piccolo, and the humans: Krillin and Yamcha. Lady Chichi only had the shadows on her wall.

Soon, Trunks was robbed of his grim reflections, taken to a place of sound and color that only 17 could manage to find for him. He rode the currents as best he could, clinging to his raven-haired lover, whispering the same words that 17 repeatedly told him, "I love you." And knowing that they both meant them.