Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Kingdom Come ❯ Chapter 18: Belonging ( Chapter 18 )

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

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

WARNING: See Chapter 1

Kingdom Come
~ Chapter 18Outside, the night was barely illuminated by a few wayward lights spread out across the ebony landscape, as if someone thought to remind the world's citizens what light was. The rain, though, defeated the noble sentiment by masking the majority, and only allowing its flashes of lightning to brighten the sky. The lower levels of the Palace, the first floor mainly, had its hallways flooded, though only the lowest class of soldiers had to worry about it. Lower class, like Vegeta.

Yamcha stared out at the window, watching as the gray droplets pounded against the window. The only thing he was wearing was a scowl as he looked out onto the world. He and Vegeta had recently finished with yet another 'strenuous' workout, something that happened every night since they had found out that they were going home. And while Yamcha wasn't one to turn away from a bit of rough love play, he did grow tired of it after a while. His preference was something a bit slower, longer lasting. Plus, after so long with the same routine, one tends to become used to it and either the work out needs to be tougher, or the routine needs to change in another way.

The human turned his head to look back at the bed where Vegeta was still asleep. The short male had the covers draped low, just above his waist, one arm stretched out. A flash of lighting helped in the endeavor, allowing the once desert bandit the chance to see Vegeta's face as it was when there was no ulterior motive masking whatever the ex-prince was feeling. 'He looks so sad,' Yamcha thought. Looking at him, Yamcha had the poetic thought that it was as if this prince wore sadness like an invisible shroud just under his skin, enveloping his entire soul.

Yamcha watched as Vegeta's hand tightened where it rested, a spot where he knew he should have still been lying. There was a moment of stillness as Vegeta's hand only came into contact with the sheets. And then the prince was wide awake, sitting upright, looking around. His eyes were wide, panicky, as he searched the darkness. Yamcha waited, wondering if he was even visible where he was. But as soon as Vegeta looked in his direction, the saiyajin spotted him.

Vegeta waited, wondering why his human lover was out of the bed. Yamcha, instead of talking like he'd normally did, simply watched him. It was strange, to see the scarred warrior so silent. Strange and unnerving. Scary as hell, actually, so the tailed guard thought to break the silence himself. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"Watching you sleep. Watching the rain fall," Yamcha replied softly, watching in the shadowed darkness as Vegeta pulled his knees up and rested his arms across them. "And I'm thinking."

"Thinking about what?" Vegeta asked, automatically. His tail moved to snake around him, but refused to stay as it curled up behind him.

"Nothing you want to hear about, I'm sure," Yamcha responded, whisper-soft. Shaking himself, he turned his gaze back to the window. "After so long without rain, I image a lot of people are happy to have it back."

"Not really. It makes the ground too muddy, and you can't have an aerial chi battle without fear of lightning striking you dead," Vegeta answered, tilting his head to the side. He waited a moment as Yamcha quietly nodded his head. "But the weather isn't what's keeping you out of bed. You've slept through storms harsher than this in the past weeks."

"No. It's not," Yamcha intoned.

"Are you going to tell me? Or am I going to have to grab you by the ankles and tickle it out of you?" Vegeta smiled, hoping to tease it out of the human. Since his recent discovery of Yamcha's susceptibility to tickling, he'd used it against the taller male, though sparingly. Vegeta so enjoyed seeing the human smile and hearing him laugh and feeling him squirming beneath him. He would prefer that any day over a sullen version of Yamcha, like now.

"Heh," Yamcha chuckled. "Vegeta, I know that you don't want me to talk about what I'm thinking."

"Oh? Know me so well, do you?" Vegeta retorted, his anger sparked. "Try me, human."

"Fine," the human responded. "I was thinking about home. And how different it's all going to be after seeing this place. How much -better- it'll be. The freedom. The fun stuff. Have you ever had ice cream? Been to a beach or an amusement park? Friends? Do you know anything about friends? All those things -- those wonderful, beautiful things -- exist at home. I've been wondering... What's happened there? Was there any trouble that they needed Piccolo for? Has Krillin's daughter gotten into any trouble without him there to look out for her? Does anyone even remember that I have condo that needs to be kept up? Are all my plants dead? And... Well, I guess I'll just shut up now. I can tell by the growing scowl on your face that you're getting pissed off with every word I say about home."

Vegeta was about to protest, but the denial died on his lips. Looking at Yamcha's lowered eyebrows, he knew that he had no right to be angry. The human had warned him, after all. So, instead of denying anything, Vegeta thought it would be better to explain himself. "I dislike you talking of your home for a reason, Yamcha."

"Oh?" the scarred warrior asked, hoping that he'd finally get an answer out of his reluctant lover.

"It is a reminder that our time is short," Vegeta said, sliding out of bed, pulling the blanket around him as he walked over to stand beside the human at the window. "I don't need any reminders that you are going to be leaving soon."

"But..." Yamcha began, his mind fumbling as he began to feel Vegeta's heat next to him, even through the blanket. "But aren't you coming? I -- I thought... When were you planning on telling me you weren't coming with us?"

"Coming?" Vegeta asked, looking from the darkness outside to the darkness in Yamcha's eyes. "Coming with you?"

"Yeah. I mean, aren't you?" Yamcha stuttered, pushing off from where he had been leaning. "I mean, you can't -want- to stay here. Can you?"

"Want to stay here?" Vegeta repeated, his mouth falling open. "You mean, you're inviting me? To come with you?"

"Well, yeah. Wait. Did you think--? Oh, no. I didn't realize you didn't know I meant you were included. I mean, I just thought that you'd -know- that I wanted you to come with us and all," Yamcha tried to explain. "I know this place isn't... These people... This place is fucked up, and I know I sure as hell don't want you to stay here. So, will you come with us, come home? I know that I can't offer you a palace to live in, but where I live sure beats the room you're staying in here."

"You... You want me to come with you?" Vegeta asked again, shocked out of his mind. He couldn't think of a single reason why Yamcha was doing this, why he was risking their safety for him. He was a nobody when it came to the power that most of them displayed. He wasn't a prince any longer. Hell, he was hardly a saiyajin. About the only reason anyone ever took an interest in him was because Lord Kakarrot was interested, and that was only to torment him. "Why?"

"Why?" Yamcha repeated, somewhat taken aback. He blinked a few times, shock evident all over his features. Gingerly, he reached out and ran a hand along the side of Vegeta's face. Quietly, he answered the question, and it was an answer that was incredibly easy to say. "Because I love you."

Vegeta closed his eyes, both from the touch and at the words. Jerking his head away, he looked down at the ground, at a spot a few feet away from the edge of the blanket that was wrapped around him. "Don't play with me."

"I swear to you, Vegeta, on my life. I do love you... and only you." Then, to Vegeta's startled amazement, Yamcha fell onto his knees, looking up at the prince. "Please, believe me... because it's true."

The prince was having a bit of difficulty breathing, as his throat was closed so tightly, fighting back tears. He looked down into Yamcha's dark eyes, hoping to see sincerity there. And amazingly enough, he found it. There it all was; everything anyone could've ever wanted. In those eyes, he found more than he had ever hoped to in this life. Shyly, hesitantly, Vegeta wrapped his arms, and consequently the blanket as well, around the human's shoulders. Delicately, he kissed the crown of Yamcha's head. "I... love you as well. I have since you began sneaking out at night to come see me."

"I guess the reason you've been so... demanding, I guess is a good word, lately is that it was the only way to get me to be quiet, huh?" Yamcha asked as he pressed against the warm skin of Vegeta's stomach.

"Quiet? I doubt you're ever quiet," Vegeta smiled. "You somehow manage to make noise even while asleep."

"I don't make noise when I'm asleep!" Yamcha retorted indignantly.

"I'm surprised the walls are still standing with all the noise, not to mention your moans, screams, curses--" Vegeta laughed, but it ended in a yelp of pleasure as a sneaky hand cupped the base of his tail.

"I guess, if I'm making all those noises when asleep, that means you didn't do a good enough job making me unconscious, huh?" Yamcha smirked as he leaned back to look up at the prince's glazed eyes.

"Well, if that's the case," Vegeta replied as he licked his lips, "I'll have to do better."

"Hmmm? Can you?" Yamcha asked as he began to place open mouthed, hot kisses along Vegeta's abdomen.

"You want me to prove it to you?" Vegeta rasped as his knees gave out. The only reason he was still standing was because of Yamcha's embrace, and the fact that his tail had taken it upon itself to wrap around the human's torso.

"If you think you're up to it," Yamcha whispered in reply.

The blanket was wrapped tightly around them even as they fell back to the floor, Vegeta straddling his human lover. But that position wasn't to last for long, as they shifted into one they both preferred, one where Vegeta was more in control of everything. Except, perhaps, himself.

This time, unlike all other times when Vegeta was dominating, there was no rush. There was a new reverence behind each touch, as if he finally understood why Yamcha had been so gentle with him that one time. Fingers danced lightly over flesh, as if this was their first time together, and he didn't know anything about his lover. It wasn't that he hadn't taken time to learn some of Yamcha's favorite things, the more sensitive patches of skin, but this was more of a relearning experience.

He allowed himself to linger with his kisses, tasting as much as he could. He swirled his tongue over each scar, praising them as honorable tokens of war. He scraped his teeth over the hard buds of Yamcha's nipples before soothing them, only so that he could gently breathe on them to harden them again.

Yamcha reveled in the heated passion, made all the better by the fact that he knew that Vegeta loved him. Wanted him. Understood that nothing mattered more than them being together. He let his head fall back, a soft moan of pleasure pulled forth from somewhere low. His body screamed at him, begging for what was to come, but it was driven by lust. Not now. This was something different.

Vegeta moved so that he was almost entering the lovely, wanton human under him. He leaned his head down and slanted his mouth across Yamcha's, preferring a kiss over actual penetration just yet, grateful that Yamcha was still more lubricated than should be seemly after their last time. He traced the outline of Yamcha's mouth before dipping in, an overly gentle move that belayed the ravenous hunger he felt. He betrayed himself, though, with how thoroughly he drank from his lover, wanting to taste the thief's very essence in the kiss.

Time seemed to warp in a crazy manner as Yamcha lost himself to the kiss. His fingers skidded along Vegeta's skin until he was able to entangle them in the upward spikes of dark hair. He was left moaning into the kiss as Vegeta entered him, slowly. So intoxicatingly slowly. Maddening.

Ignoring everything that had once demanded he rush, demanded that he take as much of this as he could as fast as he could, Vegeta took his time, savoring each thrust forward, listening to Yamcha's more delicate sounds of pleasure. Every hitch of breath, every gasp, every moan of pleasure as that one inner spot was hit again and again. He continued kissing his lover, until he couldn't. Left panting, his parted lips hovered just over Yamcha's, even as he continued moving.

Yamcha moved his hands from where they were, so that he could grip the straining muscles of Vegeta's upper arms, as they supported him. Yamcha shifted, encouraging for a faster pace, though he was loathe to do so; it was what his body was demanding. The furred noose around his ankles tightened their hold, preventing them from slipping away as Vegeta refused to accommodate the request.

"Vegeta..." Yamcha groaned before biting his lower lip. This was almost heaven, but it was probably closer to hell. He was just on the brink of climax, and he knew it. He almost closed his eyes, but by force of will, he kept them open and watching Vegeta moving over him.

"Say it. Say it again," Vegeta demanded, nipping at Yamcha's chin and jaw. "I want to hear you say it."

"I love you?"

"Yes," Vegeta rasped, rolling his hips in a way that had Yamcha arching delightfully under him. He knew how to push when it came time to. "Say it."

"I love you. I love you. I love you," the scarred warrior begged, his voice cracking. "Vegeta, I love you."

"Gods!" Vegeta cursed, keeping his slow rhythm, but changing his movements to those that he knew drove his lover crazy.

Yamcha could feel a scream building inside of him, demanding to be released. He kept his eyes on Vegeta for as long as he could, even with his body writhing as it was, struggling to attain that nirvana he knew was almost upon him. And then it was there. Yamcha threw his head back, tightening his muscles, allowing that scream to pour out of him. Only, it wasn't a scream. It was a deep rumbling groan of pleasure.

As he felt Yamcha's release, Vegeta allowed himself to sink as far as he could into his lover and give in to his own orgasm. He gritted his teeth against the rapture, shuddering in the aftershocks of overwhelming pleasure. When he was finally able to command his body enough to move, he lifted his head and looked up.

The tailed warrior laughed softly to himself, a sound that was a mixture of amusement and affection. Yamcha was out cold, a look of pleasure and contentment plastered over his face. And he was snoring. Shifting so that he was no longer still inside the human, but still on top, his tail wrapped around one of Yamcha's thighs, and his arms folded over the human's scarred abdomen, Vegeta reflected softly, "I guess I still didn't do a good enough job, huh. Well, there's always next time. And the time after that. And the time after that..."

***

Goten walked slowly down the hallway to Piccolo's room, exchanging a nod of greeting with 17 as they passed each other. Stopping just in front of the door, he hesitated, his tail twitching. He had been coming to Piccolo's room every night for the past three weeks, but each time, he felt that something was... off. It was entirely confusing, and something he needed to discuss with Piccolo. Still, he delayed for as long as he was able. He didn't want to have that conversation with the other male, regardless of how much it needed to occur.

But he could never hold off for too long. Behind that door was the most intricate and captivating conundrum ever imagined: Piccolo. And no matter how confused he became, Goten knew he'd have to figure him out. At the very least, he needed to figure out what was going on. Pressing the button for admittance into Piccolo's room, Goten's anxiety rose. He wrapped his apprehension in a veil of composure as he moved inside and walked towards Piccolo, who was crouched in front of the fireplace, stoking a recently lit fire. Momentarily looking past the other man through the balcony doors somewhere behind him, he saw the storm still raging on. Refocusing on Piccolo, he forced a small smile. "Hi," Goten said.

"Hello," replied the green male. He returned to his seat on the couch to face Goten, allowing him room to sit next to him. "How was your day?"

"Fine," the prince answered, sitting at the opposite end of the couch. His hands seemed to be trembling, and he swore they were going to give his cool exterior away as a façade. Not knowing what else to do with his hands, he stuck them between his rear and the couch, sitting on them. "The morning was very busy with the flooding and all. But the afternoon was light. I even took a long nap."

"That's good. I take that to mean you're not tired at all."

"Not at all," stated the young man. "How was your day?"

"The same as every other day," Piccolo answered. "I think 17 is having a hard time keeping me... preoccupied."

"Oh."

"Have you heard any news from your father or your brother?" inquired Piccolo.

"Yes," Goten nodded, his eyes on the dancing flames in the fireplace. "It turns out Gohan is closest to finding Guldo. My father is on his way to join him. He will, of course, be the one to mete out the punishment."

"Death."

"After a thorough beating."

"I can imagine," Piccolo nodded, chewing slightly on his tongue. While he did not condone Lord Kakarrot's actions, he couldn't deny that even he might do something similar in a case like this, though not for the same reasons. He would not be hell-bent on revenge because someone chose to slight him; it would only be because he cared deeply for the person he'd lost. And he knew Lord Kakarrot did not truly care for Chichi.

Goten sat there, noticing that Piccolo hadn't made a move to come any closer to him. In fact, he thought Piccolo was rather leaning as far away from him as he possibly could without getting up off the couch. Seizing his moment, Goten suddenly blurted out, "If you don't want me to come around anymore, just say so and put me out of my misery."

"What are you talking about?" asked Piccolo, his brow ridges drawn down into a frown.

"You barely even look at me when we're talking anymore, let alone kiss me or touch me. If you don't want me around, why don't you just tell me that and spare me the embarrassment of showing up where I'm not wanted?" Goten exhaled deeply, his body shaking and his tail threatening to cut him in half, it was wrapped so tightly around his waist.

The larger man paused for a moment, still not looking at the prince. "I... enjoy your company."

"Not like you used to," the demi-saiyajin spat. "Am I not good enough anymore? Or is there something else I can do to change?"

The crackling of the fire and the outside rain were the only sounds in the room for a several moments. Neither man moved, but neither spoke. Goten wasn't sure he could stand the stillness much longer. Softly but all at once, Piccolo ended that silence. "We need to talk."

The young prince felt as if his stomach had dropped to the floor and his heart had gone the opposite direction to lodge itself in his throat. Piccolo had only said that to him once or twice before, but those words never failed make Goten want to run and hide. 'We need to talk' never meant anything good. "All right," he said, forcing himself to stay seated.

"Do you remember when you once asked me where I was from?"

"Yes."

"I am from Earth, but not this Earth," Piccolo began. Noting Goten's confusion, he made it a point to gaze directly into the younger male's eyes; Goten needed to know how serious he was. "There was an accident with a mystical item, a mirror. Krillin, Yamcha, and I came through the mirror from our Earth to this one."

"Are you trying to say you're from a parallel... universe?" Goten's brow furrowed in concentration.

"Something like that."

"That actually explains a lot," Goten said, nodding. "Why we never knew of your existence before this year. Why you're so much stronger than anyone else with whom we've come into contact. It... makes sense."

Piccolo heaved a deep sigh. He had held off on telling Goten at all, but he knew he deserved to hear the truth. "We had thought we might never be able to return. But the mirror has been found. And we can go back. We're going to leave as soon as we're able."

Goten's eyes were closed. This was not something he wanted to hear. Not that Piccolo and his companions were from another dimension... But that other part. That other awful, terrible part. "So... You're leaving me?' he asked in a quiet voice.

"I'm not leaving -you-. I'm returning to my real life. I have a duty to my world. A responsibility. It's my... job to protect my world. Just as this world needs you, mine needs me. I can't turn my back on that," Piccolo stated, mostly for his own benefit, trying to substantiate his decision. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything after all. It... hurt. "That's why I've been trying to... distance myself from you. It would be dishonorable of me to continue as I have been with you if I am to leave. But I -have- to return to my world. It's where I belong."

"But then, where will I belong?" Goten questioned. He looked up at Piccolo then, his eyes wide and filled with an emotion that made Piccolo feel even worse. "We belong with each other."

Piccolo, still trying to justify himself, very quietly replied, "You'll find someone else."

"I don't think you understand," Goten responded, fighting to keep the tears from welling in his eyes. He was hurt, angry, upset. The words spilled out of his mouth before he even really knew what he was saying. "I'm in -love- with -you-. Do you even -realize- that I have never loved anyone else before? I'm not going to love anyone else after you either! And here you are saying you're leaving and that you don't want to be with me just because of -that-. I get it, I -do-, but I don't want that. I want -you-. I love you." Stopping for just a moment to catch his breath, Goten considered what he'd just confessed. He'd admitted it to no one, yet he knew it was all the truth. What could Piccolo be thinking of him now? How weak he was? Maybe so. "You probably think that's weak of me. To admit that I love you. But I don't care. I do love you. I know that maybe you don't love me, but... If that's the case, then say -that's- why you don't want to be with me. Don't blame it on going home and returning to duty and all of that garbage. Just tell me you don't love me. That's an acceptable end. And you leaving -isn't-!"

"You'll find someone else," Piccolo reiterated, avoiding the intense gaze of the young man seated at the other end of the couch. "And a few weeks after I'm gone... You won't even remember who I am."

"Are you out of your mind?! Just tell me you don't love me. I want to hear you say it. Tell me," Goten hissed, finally standing, his fists balled up at his sides, his tail lashing wildly behind him as he looked down at Piccolo.

Piccolo clenched his jaw tightly. This was going so poorly. He didn't know why he expected Goten to understand and accept it. But there was one thing he hadn't counted on happening: Goten loved him. As far as he knew, no one had ever loved him, let alone told him. But Goten did. Not for the first time in his life, Piccolo was completely at a loss for what to do next. His heart pounded within his chest, his mind rapidly turning over this new development. Goten loved him... yet Piccolo was just going to leave and turn his back on that. Maybe he -was- insane.

Swallowing hard, Goten forced his tail to re-wrap itself around his waist. The silence had been too long, and he wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to -not- cry at any moment. Goten just couldn't bear to hear those words actually coming out of Piccolo's mouth. If he left now, at least he'd still have his pride and dignity. No longer wanting to hear the other man tell him he didn't love him, he turned away from Piccolo slowly and began walking towards the door. Just as he reached the door, he heard something else that made him stop.

"Goten, don't."

"Why shouldn't I?" Goten asked softly. He couldn't help the tears rimming his eyes, but he could keep them out of his voice. "It's clear you don't want me here. I think your silence has said enough."

Piccolo stood abruptly. "Don't leave."

"Why -not-?" It came out as more of a growl than a question.

What was he going to say? Piccolo really didn't want Goten to leave. At night while they slept, he could at least pretend he wasn't leaving, and he could hold Goten and keep him close, keep him where he needed him. 'Tell him,' Piccolo's inner voice demanded. 'You can tell him now. Don't let him go. Everything you have ever truly wanted is right -there-. You can't lose him. Not now. TELL HIM!'

"I need you," Piccolo whispered.

With one blink, the tears slid down Goten's face. "You need me? Why?"

Suddenly, Goten was tightly enveloped by Piccolo's long limbs, the green male setting his chin on the demi-saiyajin's shoulder. "I need you... because I'm in love with you," Piccolo confessed. "I don't want to leave, but I have to. And I wasn't distancing myself just to spare you. I'm sparing myself as well."

Piccolo was in love with -him-? It couldn't be. But... Piccolo had said it. He'd said those words Goten never really thought that he'd hear or that the words would be true. Yet the honesty in the taller male's voice couldn't be ignored. Piccolo loved him. Heart pounding in his chest, hope and despair battling each other in desperation for triumph over his soul, Goten asked, the soft tone barely covering the underlying demand, "Then why are you leaving me?"

"I -have- to leave. I -have- to. Don't you understand it's harder to leave when I'm with you? To know I -have- to go back to a world that -doesn't- have you, -YOU-, in it? But I have an obligation to my world. It's my duty. When I'm with you, I don't want to go back. Because I -love- you."

"I understand," the prince murmured. He leaned back into Piccolo, reveling for as long as he could in the feeling of the taller man's body pressed against his backside. "I know you're leaving. I do understand why. But I still love you. This has been the best year of my life. I want to remember it. Please don't ruin it."

"I don't want it to hurt more than it already does," Piccolo admitted. He tightened his arms around Goten, only the thin cloth of their apparel separating their bodies. Burying his face in the younger man's neck, he breathed deeply, further memorizing his scent, the way he felt, and the way he made him feel.

Goten rested his head against Piccolo's, his eyes falling shut. "I want to stay with you until you leave. Like we were before. Don't 'spare' me. Don't spare yourself. Just love me, and let me love you."

Piccolo raised his head up just enough to rest his lips on the place where Goten's neck met his shoulders. Giving in to something he'd wanted to do for what seemed like ages, he kissed the spot. And then again, only a bit higher up on the demi-saiyajin's neck than before. And again. Slowly placing small, open-mouthed kisses up Goten's neck, he finally reached the younger male's jaw line.

Goten turned and tilted his head to press his lips to Piccolo's, his body quickly following suit. Wrapping his arms around the taller man's neck and shoulders, he poured every ounce of emotion behind his previous words into that kiss. His tail swung behind him, low at first before curling up anxiously behind him. He had wanted this for a long time, forever it seemed. And he knew that this kind of hunger, this burning need for Piccolo's kiss and touch, would never be satiated. How Piccolo ever thought that he would be forgotten was a mystery, and Goten knew it was one that he would never figure out.

Piccolo clutched at the smaller male, wanting nothing more than to be able to spend eternity with him. He knew that he couldn't, though; but Goten had asked not to be spared. To go with this hunger, until it consumed them both. He felt the prince's smaller hands tugging at the back of his head, pulling at him. Moving his hands to grasp the hybrid's rear, it was very easy to simply lift Goten off the ground and pull him up to Piccolo's level.

For Goten, this was better. This was much better. His dark eyes had been closed since the embrace, and he refused to let them open, praying that this wasn't a dream from his broken mind. He wrapped his legs around Piccolo's waist, his tail around a strong forearm, and one arm around a green shoulder. He could feel Piccolo moving, and made a sound of protest. He didn't want Piccolo to move, to do anything that would jar them out of this moment.

Piccolo landed against the wall that divided the parlor from his bedroom, but in a way so as not to pin Goten's legs or arms. He wanted this. They both did. He could feel Goten's desire pressed into him, and he knew that he was in just as much need. He wanted to lose himself to the moment, but the sense of responsibility and control was so much a part of him now that, even in that heat, he couldn't forget that there were still things that needed to be done. Breaking the kiss, he leaned his head back so that he could look at the hunger in Goten's face even as the prince's eyes fluttered open. "Goten?"

"Don't stop. Don't you dare stop," Goten rasped, tightening his hold.

"I just want to know how far we -can- take this," Piccolo ground out, knowing that he had to ask before things went too far for both of them.

"Bedroom," Goten replied before leaning forward and placing his own scorching, open-mouthed kisses along the exposed skin of Piccolo's clavicle.

"Goten," Piccolo warned, narrowing his eyes at the impertinence of the prince, though it wasn't effective considering how strained the older male's voice sounded.

"I love you, Piccolo. And I want you. All of you. As much as I can get for as long as I can have you. Selfish, I know. Weak, yes. But, dammit, I do," Goten murmured as he buried his head into the curve of Piccolo's neck.

"If it is a weakness, then it is one I share as well," Piccolo replied, spinning off the wall and through the entry way into his bedroom. He knelt on the bed, Goten still wrapped tightly around him, and called out to the room, "Lights, dim."

"Huh?" Goten asked as he felt Piccolo's hands slip under his shirt and across the skin of his back.

"I want to see you," Piccolo replied in a deep, sultry voice. "I want to see you as you lay under me. I want to see your every emotion, your every expression. I want to see everything there is to see. I want to remember. And I want you to see me. Because I want you to remember me."

At the tone in the green warrior's voice, Goten's entire body shivered. His mouth was dry and his palms were suddenly very sweaty. And he knew that there wasn't a single place he would rather be. There was fear, but there was also excitement and anticipation. He was almost high with the dizzying cocktail of emotions. Rasping his reply, "As if I could forget."

Piccolo grinned at that, slowly stripping the younger male of his shirt. Then came the belted sash and the shoes. With each item removed, Piccolo allowed himself the luxury of touching every exposed patch of flesh that he could. Until finally, Goten was left in nothing more than his own self-consciousness.

With a restraint of which the taller warrior hadn't been aware, he laid the prince down on the bed, looking at him. He tried to memorize the difference in their skin tones as he ran his hands over as much of the tailed prince as he could, even while he still knelt between Goten's parted legs.

Not that he had any problems, per se, with Piccolo's hands roaming all over his body, because he didn't, but he wanted more. "Piccolo--"

"Shh," Piccolo said, placing two fingers over the prince's still parted lips. "One more moment."

The prince closed his eyes in sensuous pleasure as sharp nails skimmed teasingly soft over his skin, circling along the edges of his nipples before gently raking lower. And then Piccolo was leaning closer, dipping his head and tracing the small pink lines with quick, butterfly soft kisses. Gasping softly, Goten placed one hand at the back of Piccolo's head while the other draped over a green shoulder blade even as sharp teeth and clever tongue played across overly sensitive nipples, first one and then the other. 'Gods!' This heaven at the same time was hell, because even though he was getting more than he had ever hoped for, he still wanted more.

For Piccolo, food had never been a demand, but it was one of those things he had always thought that he needed to survive. It wasn't until he had died and his friends had gone to Namek and met with Dende that it was revealed that Nameks only needed water to survive. He still ate food. He enjoyed flavors. And he was quickly losing himself to the many flavors of one Prince Goten. He made sure to scrape his sharp fangs delicately over the assuaged nipples as he released them, causing them to pucker rapidly again, eliciting sharp hisses of pleasure from the tailed youth below him. 'Tail... Hmmm...' Piccolo smirked as he snatched at the agitated appendage.

Goten began to gently writhe under Piccolo's hungry hands and mouth. When his tail was touched, his first reaction was to become utterly still, but his body refused to acknowledge what his brain was screaming. And then the hand that was as gentle as it was strong began to ruffle the fur against the grain, causing the prince to arch up, thrusting his hips forward and allowing Piccolo the chance to pet him all the way to its base. When a sharp fingernail managed to pass directly between the two scent glands located on the furless underside of his tail, Goten couldn't help the jagged cry that echoed in the room, or the way he naturally clung to the stronger warrior. His hips began to move in jerking thrusts, forward to rub against Piccolo's abdomen, and back to Piccolo's hand.

He had to be insane, that was the only logical reason of which Piccolo could think for the absolute inability to stop. He leaned forward, pressing Goten back down to the mattress with his weight and slanted his mouth over the prince's. He wanted this. He wanted this and more, and it frightened him. Terrified him. How much would ever be enough? Or could he get enough? He plundered the younger man's mouth, whimpering softly as Goten returned his hunger with a ravishing need all his own. With regret, Piccolo broke the kiss, to stare down at the shivering warrior beneath him.

Goten stared up at the naked longing in clear eyes. For that alone, he knew he could wait, if only for a little while. And then Piccolo was moving, away from him, to lean over the bed. When the taller warrior returned, he had a small jar in his hand and an intense expression on his face. "Piccolo?"

"Are you sure you want this?" the larger man whispered. "We don't have to do this."

The young prince reached one hand up, caressing Piccolo's cheek. "All I want is you. This... is you. Please."

"As you like, but first..." Piccolo said, finally dismissing his own confining clothes. He watched in silent appraisal as Goten's eyes roamed over him where he sat.

'Whoa. Wow.' Goten thought to himself, his mouth suddenly too dry to say anything. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears. Piccolo was just as aroused as he was, but... he was so much -larger-. Suddenly, the urge to reach out and touch the man was more than the prince could even think of refusing. He sat up, desire making his dry mouth water. Gently, he held his hand out, his fingers almost touching the emerald skin. As if suddenly realizing that Piccolo was too good for him, Goten found that he couldn't actually bring himself to touch the stronger warrior, too intimidated and afraid and unworthy. But that didn't stop him from wanting. With unabashed desire, he looked up into Piccolo's eyes. "I want you. All of you. Please. Have me. I'm all I've got to give."

"All right," Piccolo nodded and smiled, relieved. He pulled Goten closer, so that the younger male was straddling him, with his legs wrapped around Piccolo's waist, sitting in his lap. Opening the jar with a deft twist of its lid, both watched as oil slid from the opened container into Piccolo's green palm. Not meeting Goten's eyes, Piccolo found that he had to explain himself. "I should warn you, I've never done this before."

"Huh?!" Goten's breath was a sharp intake. He had thought that perhaps Piccolo was worldly, more experienced than him. It was a shock, to put it mildly, to discover that his green god was as much in the dark as he was in this instance. Smiling, his entire soul suffused with pride and pleasure, he let his fingers skim up to Piccolo's antennae. A blush spilt across his pale cheeks and nose as he whispered, amazed, "You could've been anywhere in the world, but here you are... with me."

"There's no place I'd rather be," Piccolo replied, his voice dipping with his own emotions. He placed an impassioned kiss over Goten's parted lips, not wanting to speak further, not knowing what to say. He trailed his oiled hands down Goten's lithe body, one hand stopping at the hard arousal that demanded attention even as the other continued.

Goten screamed, actually screamed, into the kiss as Piccolo touched his sex. Its single eye was already weeping, whether it was from joy or need was anyone's guess. He clutched at Piccolo's shoulders, nails digging into green flesh. This was right. This was what he wanted. This was who he wanted. Even as he gave in to his body's demand to move into each lazy stroke of Piccolo's hand, he felt a single finger enter him. He barely paid it any mind, too focused on the hand at his shaft, but his tail wrapped around the lower wrist, keeping it there yet not immobilizing it.

Piccolo had always been a quick learner, a fact that had helped him stay alive. He had studied the many, many, many resources the palace library had to offer him. And when he was done with the non-fiction, he moved on to erotica, learning as much as he could. He only hoped that he was able to give his lover half the pleasure that he wanted to give. Concentrating on two tasks at the same time was difficult, much less three, with Goten writhing against his own desire, all the while making the strangest, most exotic noises, but he knew that if he wanted Goten to have any real pleasure he was going to have to prepare him.

Goten gasped as a second finger entered him, stretching him. He broke the kiss, arching into Piccolo even as his head fell back. Piccolo was doing something, touching something inside of him, and it was causing the oddest sensations to pulse through him in time with the emerald fingers stroking him inside as well as outside. He began to babble, what he was saying he had no clue, but at the same time he didn't care. He had resilience to pain, knowing from an early age what it was and becoming its friend. Pleasure... he was not as familiar with. And this was a level of pleasure he had never thought could exist.

It was becoming too much for Piccolo, the once demon-once god. With a low rumble of need, he gently leaned forward, resting Goten down on the bed, removing the hand that was preparing his lover. Goten whined in protest, jerking his head to the side. The taller warrior kissed the exposed skin just under the youth's ear and whispered, "I'm sorry. I can't wait any longer."

Piccolo added a bit of oil to his hand to smooth over his own shaft before guiding it to Goten's warmth. With a quick prayer to whatever served as this earth's god, Piccolo slid forward. The prince hissed in sharp pain, tightening his muscles. He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that he'd endure this and more if he had to. His tail had allowed Piccolo to remove his hand and now was wrapped around the larger man's rear, pressing him forward, demanding more speed.

Piccolo buried himself halfway before beginning to withdraw, gritting his teeth tightly together against the almost overwhelming need to plunge all the way forward. When only the tip of his sex remained within the prince, Piccolo slid in again, deeper this time, faster; but again withdrew before he was fully embedded. He continued to repeat the process, over and over and over again, thrusting further yet somehow with less pain each time. Until, amazingly, he was embedded completely. He stilled in his movements, savoring the feel of the heat surrounding him, bucking into him, writhing around him as Goten continued to move, too lost to his own body's demands.

And then Goten was crying, his seed spilling forth, draining his sanity and energy away as it left him. He couldn't last, giving in even though Piccolo had yet to reach orgasm. In the aftershock of climax, his entire body felt like the heaviest of exotic metals. He closed his eyes in exhaustion and pleasure and a bit of shame as Piccolo leaned down and placed a rather chaste kiss on his forehead. "Gods, I'm sorry, Piccolo..."

"Don't be." Piccolo's voice rumbled more than thunder at that moment, and Piccolo felt the prince's entire body shiver because of it. The Demon Lord smiled down at the large eyes of his younger lover and began to move. Slowly, savoring each new sensation that rose up to overtake the last, Piccolo lost himself to the moment, abandoned himself to his own need. Easily, he moved to capture Goten's hands in his, entangling their fingers together, raising the prince's arms over his head.

Goten's eyes fluttered open before he closed them again, too intent on the sensations still pulsing through his system. He found that it was more natural to go with Piccolo's rhythm than to simply fall asleep, especially since his body didn't want to stop moving. Even more strange, it seemed that even with his climax, his body remained at least partially aroused and growing more so with each passing moment.

Piccolo leaned his head forward, allowing his antennae to brush into Goten's sweaty hair. He could feel Goten's renewed... interest pressing against him. He kept his movements steady, never fast or hard or anything that his body was begging him to give in to. This was both of their first times, and it had to be memorable. He smiled, flashing fangs, as he watched the variety of expressions flit across the demi-saiyajin's face. He could feel something low in his abdomen coiling, tightening, even as alarms began to scream in his head that something was about to occur, something new and potentially dangerous, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to stop it. "Goten…"

"Piccolo!" Goten gasped, surging forward, meeting Piccolo's suddenly faster, harsher thrusts with reckless pleasure. And then Piccolo was kissing him, a kiss that was more carnal than any of its predecessors, a ravishment of the prince, who was more than willing. And then, the submissive male felt Piccolo's seed spill -into- him, heating him from the inside. The kiss, instead of breaking, became even more passionate, as if Piccolo was trying to taste himself through Goten's mouth. The younger male couldn't stop the shallow, helpless forward thrusts that continued to rack his body, even as he felt Piccolo leave his body.

Fully aware that Goten was still in need, Piccolo began to rub his bare body against the prince's, using that friction to bring his lover to climax for a second time. Breaking the kiss, Goten began to whimper softly with each thrust, wanting it, needing it. "Gods, I'm already addicted..."

"Goten... I love you," Piccolo purred, his mouth just over Goten's ear and his voice at the octave that he knew drove the younger prince crazy. He dipped his head slightly, tracing his tongue over the ridge of a pale ear. Gently, he clamped his sharp teeth over the lobe, suckling between his fangs.

Goten cried out, his scream of climax reverberating off the walls of the room like ripples in a small body of water. His entire body arched off the bed and into Piccolo's, before becoming as lax as liquid. He lay panting on the bed, exhausted and shivering and wet. And entirely too pleased with himself. When he was finally able to get enough air to his brain to form words again, he rasped out, "Gods."

"Goten?"

"He's not in right now. Please leave a message," the prince answered weakly, dazed.

Piccolo's rumbling laughter followed the prince into a deep sleep, deeper than he'd ever been before, deeper than he'd ever allowed himself to go. Deep sleeps were for the dead or those wishing to be dead. But wrapped up in Piccolo's embrace, it was hard not to fall into that oblivion. He didn't mind the not dreaming. After all, he was already living a dream.

It wouldn't occur to Goten until much later in the day, after the sun had risen and he'd begun his daily chore of running the Trans-galactic Empire in his father's absence, that it was Gohan's birthday. Usually, his brother would get whatever he wanted on his birthday, but not this year. It was Goten who had gotten what Gohan really wanted.

***

Promptly at half past 6 in the morning, 17 let himself back into Piccolo's suite, as he had been accustomed to doing for the past three weeks. But something was different this morning. No sooner had the door shut behind him than had the android been nearly overwhelmed by the scent of sex hanging very heavily in the air. Slowly, 17 adjusted his eyesight to account for the darkness of the suite. Moving towards the bed, he could make out two very distinctive and very naked figures asleep and tangled up with each other and the sheets. 'It's about time,' 17 smiled to himself.

The android guard stepped back out into the hallway and maintained his guard position from there, with his back to the door, making sure it was locked. Prince Goten was always gone by the time 17 returned to his post, but not this time, and the synthetic male decided that perhaps the prince would not be leaving early from now on. 'Not now that they've...' 17's amused smile broadened into a certifiable grin, something he typically reserved only for Trunks. He heard steps approaching from the lift, and after he'd double-checked that the door behind him was secured, he moved to intercept the person whom he knew to be his relief guard.

"Gamma," 17 nodded.

The guard 17 had always regarded as 'one of a thousand clones' halted, then bowed in respect to the high-level guard. "Sir."

"Your services as my relief guard will not be required today," 17 said, his voice as cold and calm as it had ever been. "Later today, you will receive news as to whether your services are further required."

"Sir?" questioned Gamma.

17 folded his arms across his chest and glowered at the guard. "Prince Goten will be deciding today whether you, Sigma, and Theta will remain on relief duty for me, 18, and Vegeta. I believe he wishes to make better use of your services in Lord Kakarrot's absence."

"Yes, of course, sir," the guard said, bowing. "Thank you, sir."

The raven-haired android remained planted where he stood until he heard the lift move away. "Imbecile," he snorted.

Walking back to his position in front of Piccolo's door, he checked the time on his scouter. 'Just after 7...' 17 tilted his head to the side, to see if he could hear any sounds from inside, but then he remembered the rooms on Level 10 were soundproof for the most part. Huffing slightly, he then smiled, shaking his head. 'I guess I'd better get used to this.'





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