Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Kingdom Come ❯ Chapter 20: Entropy ( Chapter 20 )

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

WARNING: See Chapter 1

Kingdom Come
~ Chapter 20Bulma felt an odd sense of déjà vu creep upon her as she gazed out over the gathered masses in the main hall. The central floor flowed with the carnal movements of court dancers, dressed in their more barbaric attire. There was the mass of aliens she had seen countless times before, though their multitude of faces always changed. Nothing ever really stayed the same. Except Zarbon's loyal presence at her back. She knew he would always be there for her.

Across the room, it was easy to spot the two princes. Bulma's eyes never rested on any one person for too long, conscious of Lord Kakarrot's presence beside her, his careful interest in anyone that caught her eye for too long. Prince Gohan was again in the middle of a crowd, only this time he seemed a bit closer to the entrance, as if he had gotten stuck there. Sliding her eyes across the crowd, she found the two visiting humans as well as their guards. 'Well, it's nice to see someone can enjoy themselves at a party like this,' she thought, watching Krillin and Yamcha smiling and laughing between themselves. 18, Bulma noticed seemed agitated, restless. The blonde android was clearly displeased with something; whether it was attending the party as a guard or something else, Bulma couldn't guess.

The smallest of smiles graced the human female's features as her blue orbs landed on the short saiyajin next to Yamcha. He stood far closer to his charge than any guard really should, suspiciously watching every single being that moved past them, making sure they kept their distance from the scarred human. 'So possessive!' Bulma thought, gleefully. Careful to keep her eyes moving, they swept across to the other side of the room and stopped on Prince Goten, standing alone, near the opposite wall. Not a single person penetrated the five-foot radius of space around him. A faint frown creased her brow, which did not go unnoticed by the emperor at her side.

"Does something trouble you, my love?" Lord Kakarrot asked, his face full of concern.

"Not greatly, milord," she answered, turning to gaze at him and smiling a false but believable smile.

"Tell me," he prompted.

Sighing ever so slightly, she gestured with a small nod towards the emperor's younger son. "It is Prince Goten. How he stands alone. How no one speaks to him. It saddens me."

"Well, we can't have that," grunted the tall saiyajin. His dark eyes fixed on Goten, noting that the youth continued to glance over at the entrance to the main hall, almost as if he were waiting for something. Or someone. Suddenly, the dull roar of the room quieted sharply, triggering Lord Kakarrot to seek out the reason for the unexpected hush. Smirking, he found the cause. Demon Lord Piccolo and his current guard, 17, had arrived at the party. After a few moments of low murmurs, the din returned to its previous level of boisterousness while Piccolo and 17 made their way through the crowd. Lord Kakarrot followed the green male's line of sight, determining his final destination as being Prince Goten's location. Patting Bulma's hand reassuringly, he said, "Ahh, see now. Not to worry, darling. He'll have company soon enough."

Bulma nodded, that same faux smile planted on her rosy lips. Watching the Demon Lord pushing through the crowd carefully, she couldn't help but notice another similar movement in the same direction, pursuing the tall man. Prince Gohan had brusquely broken away from his groupies, seemingly intent upon joining Piccolo. Feigning misdirection, Bulma stated, "You are correct, milord. His brother appears to be headed his way."

"What's that?" Lord Kakarrot asked. Picking out the golden jacket of his elder son's formal uniform in the crowd, he saw that Gohan was indeed moving towards his brother. Or rather, Gohan was in hot pursuit of his prey, who happened to be joining Goten first. "Well, isn't this interesting."

Smiling, the blue-haired woman acknowledged the saiyajin's words with a graceful nod of her head, still keeping her eyes on the two princes and the Demon Lord. They were perhaps the safest people in the room for her to watch for more than a few seconds, as Lord Kakarrot would see it as concern for his sons' welfare rather than misplaced interest. Fortunately, she was actually interested in the dynamics between the three males, 17 not really being included as he stood a couple of feet away between them and the rest of the room.

It was strange to suddenly be rooting for one of the royals. At least, in Bulma's mind it was. Yet, she could not deny how pleased she was with the changes Goten had undergone. True, he had not gone so far as to act in a civil manner towards Trunks, but he -had- made subtle changes in decorum, such as acknowledging her presence civilly, whereas he'd completely ignored her before. And his smiles, though mostly reserved for and directed at the Demon Lord, lit up his face, showing his true age. And that was what it was really all about. That he was even capable of change. And love. To know that Goten possessed the ability to love someone wholly and purely was the true sign that he was better than his family.

That alone would have been enough to change her mind about the youth, but to see that his love was clearly returned, in her eyes, that made all the difference.

'It's all about body language sometimes, isn't it?' she thought to herself, noting how Piccolo's weight was shifted on one leg, causing him to lean towards Goten and away from Gohan. 'Gohan's trying to be charismatic, but Piccolo isn't particularly being charmed by his line of bullshit. Oh, and look at Goten! Clever, clever boy. Insinuating yourself ever-so-slightly between your brother and Piccolo. Yes. You know what's yours even if you cannot truly claim it publicly. Don't worry. Your Demon Lord knows he's spoken for.'

Reaching to her left, Bulma picked up the glass of wine that Zarbon had placed beside her mere moments before. She nodded her head for the briefest moments, acknowledging his actions. Yet, she refrained from looking at him. Especially with Lord Kakarrot sitting right beside her.

Zarbon's golden eyes easily caught the slight nod and smile as his Mistress pulled her glass up to sip from. Without seeming to, the blue-skinned male looked at the emperor. Lord Kakarrot was oblivious to his presence for the most part, which was a good thing. If he wanted to stay alive, he knew that he would have to stay invisible to the monarch. And to the rest of the world, for if Lord Kakarrot ever assumed of the true relationship between his precious jewel and her guard, if it were ever to be discovered, it would mean someone was going to die. Zarbon knew that that someone was going to be him. What the saddest part of it was, even if nothing ever happened between the two, Lord Kakarrot would still kill the blue-skinned guard, simply for thinking of such things.

The green-haired guard shifted his gaze to something, someone, safer. Vegeta. The short saiyajin had his normal dress uniform on, and his tail wrapped securely around his waist. The human he was 'guarding' was dressed in his same black tux. But Vegeta was standing too close to the human to be doing his job properly. 'Too close. Too close,' he chastised the small saiyajin in his head. 'You're standing too close. Even the princes know better than to stand within a foot of their conquest.' His golden eyes shifted over to the trio on the other side of the room. 'Prince Gohan, who has quite overtly staked his claim as pursuer of the Demon Lord, is at least two feet away, and even that is almost too close. Prince Goten, on the other hand can't even help that he stands a good six inches closer since Piccolo is leaning slightly toward him.' Flickering his eyes back to Vegeta, he continued to address him in his head. 'But -you- can't be more than eight inches away from the human. You must be dumber than I thought, Vegeta. If you're not careful someone will notice. -Other- than me.' A guard was supposed to blend, to go unnoticed. Vegeta was doing neither to the emerald-haired guard's dismay. Zarbon waited for Lord Kakarrot to notice, to say something, to outright kill the shorter saiyajin male as a lesson on proper behavior. So, when the emperor's voice called out softly to him, Zarbon was already prepared to go after Vegeta.

Strangely enough, Lord Kakarrot did not order for Vegeta. Instead, the royal commanded the blue-skinned guard, "Zarbon, bring me Prince Gohan and Prince Goten. Tell them that their presence is required promptly and without exception."

"Yes, sire," Zarbon said as he bowed. He moved down to the tiled floor gracefully, slipping forward towards the two princes. Upon arrival, he noticed that Prince Gohan looked a bit flushed and agitated where as Prince Goten looked somewhat amused. Demon Lord Piccolo seemed... tall. He had never appreciated how tall the warrior was until that moment. Inwardly shaking off the feeling of disquiet, Zarbon bowed and said, "Pardon me, sirs. But Lord Kakarrot is demanding his sons' presences on the stage, promptly and with no exceptions."

"What could he possibly want now?" Prince Gohan growled softly, his tail lashing through the air as he pushed past Zarbon. He was annoyed at the verbal sparring that he and Piccolo had been engaged in. Not because it wasn't fun, but because he had the distinct impression that the green man had been stringing him along, being coolly detached but interested enough to keep Gohan attempting to gain more interest from him. And now that the elder prince had finally thought he was beginning to get somewhere... "This better be important."

"Father," Prince Gohan said, so softly that only those closest to the stage could hear.

"Heh. I'm glad you two could be here for this," the muscular ruler said. "It's fitting that you two are here with me when I make my announcement."

"Father?" Prince Goten asked.

"Heh. You'll see," Lord Kakarrot hinted, grinning like a child. He jumped to his feet, his smile causing many to take a wary step back. The move did not go unnoticed by the monarch, and it only caused him to grin even more. Making sure that his voice carried to the very back of the room if not further, Lord Kakarrot began his speech.

"No doubt," he began a little too loudly for the quiet of the room. "Ahem. No doubt you are all wondering why you've been gathered here this evening. Well, let us not hold you in suspense any longer. Surely, you are all aware that in the past two months alone, the empire has added over one hundred planets to our holdings." The crowd roared its approval, much to Lord Kakarrot's pleasure. "Thanks in no small part to the heir to the throne, Prince Gohan!"

Again, the cheers rose to a nearly deafening level. Goten stood a little apart from his 'family', feeling completely unassociated with them as usual. Keeping his face stoic, he merely stood at attention, listening to his father go on. "And if that news were not excellent enough," the emperor continued, "I have an announcement to make. You have probably heard, in one way or another, of the untimely... passing of the former Lady of the empire. However, her shoes will soon be filled."

Lord Kakarrot offered his hand out to Mistress Bulma, allowing her to take it and stand beside him before the masses. "On the first day of this new year, I will wed Mistress Bulma. All hail the new Lady of the Empire!"

Loud applause from the crowd rocked the main hall, even though several people went unnoticed as they did nothing more than gape in confusion. Prince Gohan bent slightly towards his younger brother, speaking out of the side of his mouth. "What the -hell- is going on here? Did you know anything about this?"

"Not a clue," Goten shrugged, just as taken aback as his elder sibling. Their soft clapping was more out of respect to their father rather than actual approval of the idea. Goten couldn't care less who his father married, as it was a well-known fact that he had loved the blue-haired human for... a very long time. It was just as well that she was given a formal title of Empress.

Gohan, on the other hand, was inwardly sick. First, his father was marrying a whore, a HUMAN whore. Second, he had slept with her. His soon-to-be stepmother. Which was just -revolting-. Despite her human and whore background, that technically made her 'family', and having sex with a family member was beneath even Gohan. You were loyal to family; you didn't fuck them.

Zarbon hung in the shadows behind the couple, lost as part of the scenery. It was fortunate, seeing as how his mouth was slightly open in utter shock, and his eyes were wide. Lord Kakarrot was going to marry Mistress Bulma. She was going to be Empress. Lord Kakarrot was going to be with her... every night... touching her... holding her... It was almost too much for the blue-skinned warrior to take. Somehow, he managed to keep his composure. He would make it through the night. Tomorrow, well, that would be a concern later. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

'Well... shit,' Krillin thought to himself with some surprise. Nudging 18 slightly with his elbow, he asked, "Is this, um... a surprise?"

"That's putting it mildly," stated the blonde android. "I don't think even Mistress Bulma knew. Look at that plasticine smile. Fraud."

"Huh," the short human shrugged. From his vantage point, he could gauge a lot of responses without being seen by anyone important, not that he'd allow himself to be dumb enough to get caught anyway. The cheers were loud and wild, but hollow. 'These bastards don't mean a single syllable,' snorted Krillin. 'What a bunch of fakers. And geez. They're no better on stage. Bulma does look a little forced herself. Zarbon... Man, did he swallow a goldfish or something? I hope he doesn't hurl up there. Gohan... ooh, he's not a happy camper.' Finally able to get a look at Prince Goten, Krillin didn't even try to hold back his chuckle. 'That little prick couldn't care less. Look at him. Bored out of his skull. Hee. And poor Lord Crapalot. I almost feel sorry for the son of a bitch. He's the only one up there who actually gives a damn.'

The crowd returned to its previous bustling once Lord Kakarrot had allowed them to enjoy the party. In the back of the bald human's mind, he could feel that Yamcha and Vegeta were moving away, and when he turned to look, he only caught a glimpse of Vegeta's hair quickly escaping through the entrance to the main hall. 'Huh. Wonder when I can break out of this joint. Nnnh. Probably have to have 18 tag along. Man, she sucks.'

Prince Goten's attention fixed solely on his father, stepping past his brother up to the taller saiyajin. "Father," he began, "before I congratulate you on... this, I must ask something. Surely you're not expecting... me... to arrange the ceremony and whatnot?"

Laughing heartily, Lord Kakarrot slapped his younger son hard on the back, both in jest and in reprimand. "No, of course not. Can't have you messing with things about which you'll never know anything, can I? No, no. I will handle this myself... with my betrothed's assistance," he answered, turning a bit to smile at Bulma. "Rest assured, you will have nothing to do with this joyous occasion other than attending it."

"Well, then. Congratulations on your engagement, milord. May I be excused now?"

"Yes, of course." The emperor smirked as he watched Goten nearly leap from the platform back into the crowd, which parted far more than it needed to allow the demi-saiyajin through. Once he saw that Gohan was about to follow suit, his hand clamped down heavily on his elder son's shoulder. "Not so fast, Gohan. There's someone I'd like you to meet."

Prince Goten looked over his shoulder as he neared Piccolo, noticing that his father was pulling Gohan towards a small group of very lovely females, or at least what he guessed would be considered lovely, since he had never thought anyone to be attractive until he'd met the Demon Lord. 'It seems Father thinks that it's not only -his- time to settle down. Ugh. That could be -me- up there. Thank the gods for that bet...' With a smirk, he turned his attention back to his final destination: Piccolo. "I think it would be best if we... cut out early. Like... -now-. Father has Gohan distracted, and it will only be a short matter of time before they lose interest in their current party game."

Piccolo looked towards where the emperor and eldest prince were, and noticed Gohan's growing frown of vexation as each individual lady was introduced to him, bowed, and then retreated to allow the next one to repeat the process. With a nod of agreement, he and Goten slipped out via a balcony window. He watched as 17 merely shook his head and left through the front door, not bothering to hide his tracks or to be secretive. He had the benefit of being able to say that Prince Goten dismissed him, after all. Piccolo turned to his younger companion and asked softly, "So, tell me. How do you feel about your father's engagement?"

The young demi-saiyajin shrugged. "Eh. Doesn't really matter to me. Mistress Bulma has essentially been 'acting' as Lady for years. This is merely making it official. Regardless, as it has no bearing or effect on any area of my life, I'm just... indifferent about it, I suppose." Glancing over his shoulder back through the window, Goten saw a very angry Gohan pull their father over to the side of the stage away from the trove of women. "We'd better go now. I think Gohan's about to lay into our father."

"Have you gone totally out of your mind?" Gohan hissed at his father, keeping his voice low enough so that no one else could hear them. He had his tail curled behind him, but his back was to a wall. He was leaning so that no one other than his father could see his face, but that also obscured his view of everyone at the party. Especially the pretty flock of mindless pigeons in which his father wanted him to be interested. "I don't want any of these... these... What are they? Princesses? Whatever. I don't want them. Maybe someday when I'm really hard up, I'll pick a mate, but right now, no, thanks."

"Don't you dare speak in that tone of voice to me, boy," Lord Kakarrot seethed, painfully gripping his son's chin in one hand and pulling the boy to him. They were mere inches apart, yet at the same time there were miles between them. The long ebony spikes of Kakarrot's hair shuddered slightly with his anger, but that was all the visible confirmation that showed. "You -will- choose a mate and -soon-. Make no mistake."

"Not right now, I'm not." Straightening up his golden jacket and running a hand through his spiky hair, Gohan lifted his nose haughtily into the air. "Now, if you don't mind -- well, actually, I don't care if you mind or not -- I have a Demon Lord to get back to."

The emperor quickly scanned the crowd for the tall, green male's head, which he'd seen numerous times that evening, then smirked. If his son was going to annoy him, then it was only fitting that he return the unwanted sentiment. "Really. Seems the Demon Lord has gone missing from the party."

"What?!" Gohan asked in disbelief.

Still looking over the crowd, Lord Kakarrot added, "And Goten's disappeared too. Eh, just as well. He never has been sociable. No one likes him anyway."

"Dammit! Now, look what you've done!" Gohan fumed at his father, then stormed off into the crowd in search of his absent conquest. He knew that Goten never stayed at any of the parties past the climax, the great speech or whatnot. Goten was more for his dark, dreary, relatively quiet torture chambers where there were very, very, very few people and no one he had to charm. Charming was so not his brother's style, after all. That was more of his gift, or so he thought.

The elder prince swore inwardly as he stalked through the crowd, his eyes sweeping for the indigo and black of Piccolo's garments topped by his bald green head. 'Where the hell did he run off to? Fuck... I can't believe father kept me up there for so long! And I was finally getting somewhere with Piccolo! Argh. This is ridiculous. Could he have gone to his room already? That would be just my luck too. Maybe I should go up there... No. No, no, no. I'm not throwing myself at him like that. Not him. There's always tomorrow. Tomorrow...'

***

The room was small, though the surrounding mirrors gave the illusion of a much larger area. Light spilled out from the corners, where one panel of glass met another. There was security in the fact that no one would disturb the two warriors therein, as the prince had the ride secure with his own personal pass codes. Not even his own father could crack open the doors... unless he ascended, and it was highly improbable for -that- to occur over a simple elevator. The code was given right after the doors closed, and just before he reached for his taller lover.

Piccolo easily wrapped his arms around Goten's smaller form, pressing the prince close. He buried his nose into the raven spikes of the younger male's hair, inhaling deeply. The charade of being nothing more than friends was wearing on both of them. The need to touch the prince had almost been too much for the stoic fighter, but somehow he had curbed it. As the elevator lifted them upwards to their level, Piccolo's deep voice pierced the silence of the room with gentle ease, "You looked nice tonight."

"Mmm. Thank you. Just the dress uniform for my position. You've seen it before." A brown-furred tail unwrapped from its usual location to wrap around Piccolo's upper leg. Goten buried his head in the strong chest pressed against him. He sighed softly, wishing... so many things. Like the ability to figure out what he had done to deserve to find the Demon Lord, who was so beautiful and yet seemed to find him attractive as well. "Gohan looked nice this evening, don't you think?"

"He looked decent, which is more than what's normal for him," Piccolo responded, slowly beginning to rub his hand up and down Goten's back. "But then he opened his mouth and ruined it all, not that there was much there to begin with. Certainly nothing to compare with you."

By then, the lift was slowing to a stop. It was time to move apart, just in case someone was there to see them, even though -nobody- had any real right to be up there aside from the level's two residents and they royal family. With eyes full of regret, they did as decorum demanded. They left the lift together, moving down the hall until they had to go their separate ways to go to their separate rooms. They knew that it wouldn't be for long, though. Only so long as it would take them to prepare for the rest of the night.

For Goten, he calmly stepped into his room, allowing the door to hush closed behind his curled tail. But as soon as he was alone, with the knowledge that no one was watching him, he flew into action, stripping down so fast he almost ripped his clothes, which was something he hadn't done since he was a teenager. As soon as he was in his pajamas, which consisted of a shirt and pair of loose fitting black pants, he stepped up to the door. Inhaling a soothing breath, he calmly stepped out of his room, and began to walk calmly down the hall towards Piccolo's room. As an afterthought, he looked over his shoulder and gave a soft command, locking his bedroom door tightly, so that no one other than a god -- or himself -- could open it.

The door to Demon Lord Piccolo's room slid expectantly open for the prince, as he knew it would. He slipped inside quietly, spotting Piccolo with hungry eyes. Moving soundlessly over the carpet, the prince made his way to where the green man had stood up for him. Together, they sat down on the floor in front of the fireplace, Goten curled up against Piccolo's side, and unwilling to move more than his tail to drape across both of their legs.

Piccolo wrapped one arm around the prince's shoulders, bringing the younger male closer. Goten managed to get both of Piccolo's arms around him, green hands resting on pale skin. They were both staring into the fire, watching as the wood burned liquidly in front of them. It was Goten who broke the silence by whispering, "I love you. I just want you to know that."

"I know," Piccolo said, kissing the top of the demi-saiyajin's head. "And I love you. More than I ever thought I could love anyone."

Goten nodded his head silently, and then slipped down to rest his head on Piccolo's thigh. He sighed as he felt Piccolo's hand running through his hair and over his skin to his shoulders. For him, this was one of the best parts of being with Piccolo. Not the sex, but the simple touching. He had never really thought that touching was all that great... but Piccolo somehow managed to make it better than it had any right to be. It could be as intoxicating as a drug, or as comforting as certain foods. Dark eyes closed as he savored Piccolo's caress. "Tell me about your world, Piccolo. Is it much like this one?"

"Yes and no," he answered slowly, carefully. "It's much more beautiful, peaceful. There is no empire, no -one- ruler, though there are many small governments. From time to time, there will be visitors from other planets who try to stake a claim on Earth, but we always defeat them."

"Who are 'we'?" Goten inquired, eyes still shut. "You and your two humans?"

"There are more of us," Piccolo said, smiling a bit at thinking of himself included with the rest of the group. Fighters he had fought against in his life, and fought beside. Some were human. Some weren't. And some, no one knew -what- they were. "Faces you'd likely recognize if ever you saw them."

Goten's eyes opened then, gazing up into Piccolo's face. "The people here are the same there?"

"Not exactly. Some of them are the same," Piccolo tried to explain. His eyes gave away some of his troubled thoughts, showing his concern in a way that only someone extremely intimate might recognize.

"My father?"

"He's gone now," Piccolo replied softly, a tinge of emotion in his voice. One couldn't help but admire some of the man's determination. He chose his words carefully, uncertain of what he could say and what he -should- say. "But he was a good man. A loving father. The strongest warrior of all of us, except perhaps Gohan."

"Gohan... What is he like?"

"Very kind. Very smart. Very strong." Piccolo remembered, a sad smile stealing some of the light from his face. "He was my student. But that was a long time ago. When he was a mere boy."

"Student?" Goten asked, his brow creasing with confusion. "But... You can't be more than a couple of years older than him."

"Four years, actually. Not that anyone ever realized that except him."

Goten nodded his head, accepting this. Some people were never question for their natural abilities. After a moment, though, the prince had to ask, "And is there... Am I there?"

"There's a very silly boy with your name and the same family members, who... might look like you at first glance," stated the larger male. "But he's not you. He's altogether different. There could never be another -you-."

"Is he... better-looking than me?" queried the youth, his lack of self-esteem making its appearance in the conversation.

Piccolo nearly laughed at that. His realm's Goten being attractive?! That was just too funny. "Not in the slightest."

"Hmm." Goten lightly stroked Piccolo's forearm across his chest. "Who else is there? 17? Vegeta?"

"They're both there, though very different. Trunks, Mistress Bulma, 18. Your mother also. They're all there. But... different. No one is the same here as they are in my world. Except for Krillin, Yamcha, and myself. But we're from there. So..."

"I see." Goten replied. He snuggled back down against Piccolo's lap and closed his eyes. He sighed as Piccolo continued to pet him. Feeling the early stages of sleep tugging at his consciousness, Goten stifled a yawn. He had been up far too long, yet he felt it wasn't nearly long enough. "I'm... sleepy."

"So sleep, then."

"Nnnh. But I want you to make love to me. I love when we do that," the demi-saiyajin remarked in his sleep-filled voice. For the moment, though, he continued to relax, enjoying the feel of Piccolo's green skin sliding against his pale, imagining what it would look like. Remembering what the contrast looked like from previous experiences.

"We have all night, Goten," murmured Piccolo, bending to kiss the younger man on the forehead. "I'll wake you later."

"You'd better," the prince replied. Soon, there was only Piccolo's smell, his warmth, and his presence. And it was all Goten really needed. The fire burned nearby, spreading its warmth out to the two. The sounds of its idle popping and crackling dimmed as Goten fell asleep.

***

The air in the room was cooled from the open window, the filmy curtains blowing and waving with the inrush of wind. Even with the chilled temperature of the outside environment, the two lovers were covered in sweat. Fur bristled before resettling. Soft gasps and inarticulate words were muffled against flesh. Hips moved in a rapid rhythm. Muscles strained.

Vegeta was braced up in an almost push-up position, his arms on either side of Yamcha's ribs. He grimaced in slight pain as Yamcha's fingers dug into the skin of his back, scratching him deep enough to draw blood. The pain was insignificant, though, compared to the way his lover was moving against him, under him, around him. And the things he was whispering! Vegeta threw his head back, restraining a howl as his climax claimed what little sanity he had left. Weakly, he pulled out and away from the scarred human, only to collapse face first into the pillow beside him.

Yamcha smiled dazedly, turning over to his side. Sometimes, he just couldn't believe that this was real. He reached out a hand to continue to touch his lover, resting it on the royal saiyajin's back, only to have the shorter male wince in obvious pain. "Vegeta...?"

"If you aren't more careful, you're going to remove all the skin off my back," Vegeta said even as he continued to regain his breathing. Somehow, it seemed that they recovered faster and faster, as if they were growing immune to the physical exertion, though not from the naked animalistic lust that they shared. Nor were they immune to the emotions behind their actions.

Yamcha almost laughed at that thought, the bubbly sound dying in his throat as he licked his lips languidly. Gazing over at Vegeta under heavy eyelids, he drawled, "Well, it's just my way of leaving a lover's mark. Sorta like a hickey."

"Yeah? Well, what if I just decide to leave a mark on you? Hmmm?" Vegeta rasped in mock anger, leaning up and snapping his teeth just over Yamcha's scarred skin, careful not to actually bite the human.

"Heh. Good luck finding some place that doesn't already have some kind of scar on it," Yamcha sighed, a minute, lazy smile gracing his face. Closing his eyes completely, he extended his arms over his head in a near feline-like stretch. "At least with you, there's a lot of canvas for me to use."

"Is that a challenge? I could add my own mark. Find a very... special spot on your body for it," Vegeta teased, running a finger over the scarred male's sweat-slicked skin.

"Hmmm... true," Yamcha blushed. "But if ya did that, then I wouldn't be able to show it off."

Vegeta's smile dimmed as he leaned back. He was struck speechless for only the briefest moment before blurting out, "You're serious?"

"Aren't you?" Yamcha asked, pointedly catching Vegeta's eyes with his own. "Because, ya know, I'd let you scar me if you wanted to. I'd just want to be able to show it off. That's what having lover's mark is about, ya know. Bragging rights. I'll get to brag that I got you."

Vegeta was stunned silent, his mouth hanging open slightly. He blinked a few times, trying to gather his thought processes. "You'd let me? Are you sure about this? I mean... If I brand you, it's not temporary."

"Heh. Neither is this," Yamcha replied as he moved up to plant a firm, undeniable kiss on Vegeta's still parted mouth. Two pair of dark eyes closed as the heat built up in the small exchange, and even though Yamcha was the instigator, it was Vegeta who was the dominator. Their breathing quickly returned to its earlier irregular flow as they sampled each other's taste, sipping fire that spread throughout their entire bodies. Breaking the kiss, Yamcha leaned back on the bed, lying on his back this time. "Yeah, I want you to brand me. Mark me. Let me have a lover's mark to show off to the rest of the world."

Vegeta parted his eyes and looked down at lovely, loving man below him. Yamcha was stronger than him. Faster than him. Better than him. And yet, he was willing to be scarred by him? Grinning, Vegeta looked over his shoulder at the rest of the room. He found what he was looking for easily enough. A small pen. Grabbing it lightly, he returned to the bed quickly. "This is from some of the older traditions of my people, something Kakarrot and his brood don't even know about."

"What are you going to do?" Yamcha asked.

"Turn over, so I can do this on your back," Vegeta commanded, though it was more of a request. He grinned as Yamcha automatically obeyed. "I'm going to engrave the royal symbol of my house, the Vegeta-sei Crest, on your back. It'll be easily hidden by a shirt, but if you went without the shirt, then everyone would see this. It used to be that this symbol was done on whoever belonged to my family's house, even servants. All the warriors would have it branded on their chest, above their hearts. Servants had it on their hands."

"Oh. Okay. I guess you're going to outline it first, huh?" Yamcha asked.

"Yes. I don't want to mess it up," Vegeta said as he began to lightly sketch what he remembered as his symbol.

"So... I get why servants had them on their hands; that makes sense in a... rudimentary sort of way. But what's the deal with warriors having it branded on their chests?" Yamcha queried.

"Well, it was said that that was the only way the enemy would see the symbol. Warriors would never turn their backs on opposition, and the others wouldn't stand up to them," Vegeta remarked absently.

"Um... so, why aren't you branding me as a warrior?" Yamcha inquired, serious and a bit hurt.

"Because. I'd rather have you as my lover than as my soldier. Lovers were branded on their backs, which -- with the proper attire -- could be highly visible," Vegeta grinned, both at the comment and at his finished sketch. He was aware that Yamcha was blushing, which was rather funny to him. After all this time together, it was strange that a simple statement of fact could cause such a reaction. He shook his head as he dashed to the bathroom, intent on finding a specific kind of gel, one used to decrease pain but lead to scarring. Why it was invented, Vegeta had no real clue, but it was suspected that it was a cruel way of reminding warriors of previous defeats. All he really knew was that it took away pain and left a physical reminder of injury.

He rummaged around in the cabinets, making far too much noise for his tastes, but he didn't stop until he found what he was looking for. When he pulled his hands back, he noticed that his hands were shaking. Badly. With a muttered curse, he put the tube of gel on the side of the sink and rested his hands along its edge. He looked up, into the mirror, and tried to regain his breathing.

"Vegeta?" Yamcha called out, wondering what the prince was doing.

"Just a moment," Vegeta returned. He took a few deep, calming breaths, trying to gain some kind of control over himself. When he was confident enough that he thought he'd be able to perform his task, he grabbed the tube and returned to the bed. Sitting lightly beside his human lover, he began to trace the outline already present on Yamcha's back. "You know, I can't help but wonder... how will I know when people are calling my name and when they are calling the other Vegeta's?"

"Hmmm... Well, I don't think anyone's going to be doing all that much calling for Vegeta. But, if it makes you feel any better, babes... you'll know by the tone. If they're talking to him, they're probably screaming his name in vexation. You, they'll just address calmly," Yamcha said, frowning. The gel was -cold-!

"Still. Perhaps... Perhaps I should change my name slightly. I wouldn't want to offend the other Vegeta too much if, as you say, he is more powerful than Demon Lord Piccolo," Vegeta stated as he re-applied more gel. His tail was curled up behind him, as it usually was when they were alone. "Perhaps just... Geta."

"Geta, huh?" Yamcha grinned, though he knew his lover couldn't see it. "All right. I'll remember."

"You'd better." The short saiyajin grinned, capping the tube. He tossed it to the ground carelessly, looking only at what he was about to do. Taking another calming, steadying breath, he whispered. "You'd better remember my name. You'll be screaming it soon enough."

Yamcha chuckled at that. But he didn't move as he felt something almost uncomfortably hot press against his back. As he underwent the procedure, his damp skin broke out in cold sweats. He bit his lip against the dull throbbing pain; his skin was amazingly numb, yet the tissues under it weren't. Trying greatly not to squirm under the acute sensation, he allowed himself to be calmed by the soft crooning coming from his lover. Concentrating on only Vegeta's voice, Yamcha began to sing with him.

The action of singing that particular song was so much a part of their private time together that it was almost second nature to Vegeta by then. So, it was quite easy for him to concentrate primarily on the branding procedure rather than the words he was saying. Still, he managed not to slip up in either task, something he took some pride in. Yet, as he removed his chi-lightened fingers from Yamcha's back, Vegeta found his words faltering. He was left staring at the fresh scar, unable to say anything, allowing only Yamcha to finish singing.

"Geta?" Yamcha asked, looking over his shoulder at the other male. What he saw caused the human to fall silent. There was the look of utmost wonder on Vegeta's face, transforming him from the man he had come to know into someone at least twenty years younger. There was a look of such pride, such accomplishment and... nobility there that for a moment Yamcha had the strangest sense of déjà vu.

Vegeta stared down at the work of art before him. He had always thought that marking another in this manner was a bit... barbaric in the grand scheme of things, and that was why it went out of fashion with his people. Yet, staring down at his family emblem blazing angry red from Yamcha's back, there was no emotion other than... joy. He had never thought... Well, it didn't matter. None of it did. "As of now, you belong to me."

Yamcha grinned. "I belonged to you a while back."

Vegeta almost couldn't breathe, his throat hurt so badly. He reached his hand forward, yet refrained from actually touching the new scar. He stared at it reverently for a few more moments before raising his eyes to meet Yamcha's gaze. "We shouldn't do anything else tonight. Allow you time to heal. Back muscles are always the worst when it comes to pain. They're responsible for so many movements that it would cause you too much discomfort."

Yamcha narrowed his eyes at that.

"All right, so... I just really want to hold you the rest of the night to make damn sure that I didn't do anything stupid, like fuck it up," Vegeta grinned. "BUT. In the morning, when I'm sure all the physical repercussions are evident, we'll decide what to do."

Yamcha couldn't stop from the bubbling laughter that spilt forth. Shaking his head, they climbed into a resting position that allowed Vegeta to be on his back with Yamcha resting on top of him, his back exposed to the cool night air. "So, if everything is good in the morning, what are our plans? I mean, after the bombshell at the party tonight, I think things are going to be a bit... crazy around here."

"Hmm... yes. They will be. Which is all the better for people who can use this as a diversion for other things," Vegeta said softly, thinking aloud.

"Like us," Yamcha agreed.

"Like us," the saiyajin echoed. Then he smiled. "Of course, after such a party as this was, it would not be uncommon for people and warriors, such as yourself, to remain inside their rooms tomorrow, enjoying all the pleasant aftershocks of a night full of merriment and drinking."

"You mean hangovers."

"And of course, as I am your bodyguard, I'd have to stay here and guard your body," Vegeta replied lecherously. "I would, of course, start the day by making sure that it was in proper working order and everything was accounted for."

"You'd be thorough, wouldn't you?" the scarred male played along, giving the collarbone beneath his mouth a light lick. "Cover every... square... inch?"

"I would not be fulfilling my... position," Vegeta murmured, allowing his tail to dip between Yamcha's legs teasingly, "if I didn't complete an extensive and... deep inspection."

"Mmm," Yamcha whispered, already becoming slightly aroused. It wasn't fair that Vegeta had a tail, it really wasn't. Especially since it seemed that tail was very good at... things. But then, two could play at this game. With a free hand, he skimmed his way down Vegeta's side and then back up before dipping down again and cupping the saiyajin who was just as aroused as he was if not more so. "And you assure me it would be deep?"

"Without question."

"Just so long as you have the proper tools for the job," Yamcha intoned, beginning to stroke his lover, causing them both to become even more aroused. Vegeta grabbed his arm though, forcing Yamcha to stop, though it was more of a request than actual demand as Yamcha -could- have continued.

"I assure you that I have the best tools for this job, and I am highly skilled," Vegeta remarked, his face flushed and eyes slightly glazed. He had stopped, but it was more because he wanted Yamcha to be pleasured rather than himself. He pulled up Yamcha's hand, the one that had been stroking him, and he kissed the palm of its hand.

"Oh, I have full confidence in your skills." Yamcha answered.

"I believe you'll be pleased with my performance," Vegeta smirked, allowing his tail's tip to race along the underside of Yamcha's shaft, flirtatiously, causing him to shudder delightfully in his arms.

"Are you sure I can't have a little... teaser? For tomorrow's performance," Yamcha asked, spreading his legs slightly so that he was straddling his lover, allowing that tail, or any other part of Vegeta's anatomy, even greater access to whatever it wished.

"Anticipation is half the fun. You'll just have to wait," Vegeta replied mercilessly. He kept his tail where it was, as it also pinned Yamcha to him, and the way they were positioned would keep the scarred warrior from moving too much. It would allow his body time to heal.

"Tease," Yamcha pouted. Sighing, he turned his head to the side, listening to Vegeta's strong heartbeat under his ear. It was going to be a long night. And hard. Just like him. The morning wasn't going to come soon enough, and neither was he.