Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Kingdom Come ❯ Chapter 31: Reprise ( Chapter 31 )

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

WARNING: See Chapter 1

Kingdom Come
~ Chapter 31Vegeta waited in the dark. He was sitting in a kitchen chair, staring at the front door. He was still dressed in his black business suit, not seeing a need to change clothes. These were just as easy to fight in. He was angry enough for it.

He had thought that he and Yamcha were getting somewhere. Granted, there was still a lot of away time between them, with Yamcha gone during the day and himself gone for the nights at his club. When they did see each other, though, there was none of the strained silence of before. It was usually very comfortable between them, though it could be a little tense at times.

But that didn't matter. What mattered to Vegeta at that particular moment was that he had seen Yamcha outside of his club with someone draped on his arm. Some young, brunette, tanned, smiling female whom he didn't know and didn't like. She was hanging all over Yamcha, and the human simply smiled at her, leading her away. And as fast as Vegeta was, by the time he reacted and managed to get outside the club, Yamcha was gone, taking his... whore with him. It was enough to make Vegeta want to destroy the entire mudball planet.

He growled as he continued his vigil. He wasn't angry. He was enraged.

Yamcha was his. And it was time the human learned that. Vegeta was tired of being patient. He wanted Yamcha, and he wanted him NOW. Wanted to taste the scarred male's flesh and sweat on his tongue. Wanted to hear Yamcha begging, screaming for more. Wanted to press into the warmth of Yamcha's body as the human lay under him, his weaker muscles straining and his cries shattering the stillness of the condo that was presently suffocating. Wanted to feel Yamcha trembling, on the brink of an orgasm, able to deny or grant that climax. Wanted to be inside the human, be there as that sweet release crashed into him. And tonight was the night that he was going to get what he wanted, screw the consequences. He was entitled to his rights, dammit. Yamcha was HIS.

Vegeta's eyes fixated on the door as he heard the key slide into the lock. His quick grin was at once feral and joyous before it flitted away like time. The door slid open easily, and golden light from the hallway spilt into the darkness for only an instant as Yamcha slipped inside. Vegeta heard the soft click of the door shut and the lock sliding back into place. Even as Yamcha was slipping out of his shoes, tossing his keys and wallet to the table beside the door, Vegeta was standing. Without turning on any of the lights, as he knew where everything was, he thought, Yamcha walked into the living room, by passing the kitchen.

"So, I see that you're ready for new relationships. Or was that woman you were with just some whore?" Vegeta growled as he moved up behind the taller male.

With a startled yelp, Yamcha spun around. And quickly found a new reason to cry out in pain and shock as Vegeta grabbed him between the legs. Gasping, holding onto Vegeta's hand as he bent over in pain, Yamcha rasped, "Vegeta..."

"What I think YOU fail to see is that YOU are MINE. And that means that no one, other than me, is allowed to have you. The only time you're allowed to sleep with anyone other than me is when I say so, and trust me when I say that that is not a day that is in the near future," Vegeta growled low and guttural so that his words barely made any sense. His hold on Yamcha relaxed a bit before tightening again. He held it in a pulsing rhythm, knowing that he'd have to ease up a bit if he wanted Yamcha to respond in any form or fashion.

"Vegeta..." Yamcha gasped again, slowly getting over his shock and trying to collect his thoughts. Taking deep breaths to fight back the nausea from his fear, he asked, "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about this," Vegeta answered, as he pulled Yamcha's head back with his free hand and slanted his mouth over the human's parted lips. He plundered the heated treasure that he had only been able to taste once before. He hungered for it, and he wasn't about to let Yamcha get away, even though he did loosen his angry clasp. He ravished the taller male with nothing more than his kiss, promising things both carnal and primal. He pulled back, panting, only to be blind-sided with a chi-enhanced right hook.

Yamcha couldn't get out of the prince's reach, even if he flew out the window, so instead he held his ground, which was a mere few feet away and on the other side of the sofa. He stood panting, hurt and confused and in slight shock. Even though it was late October, and slightly cool inside his home, he felt as if it was midday July where he was standing, he was so warm. And if any of the inside lights had been turned on, he was sure that Vegeta would be able to see how panicked he was, able to see how wide his eyes were. "What the FUCK do you think you're doing!?"

"I'm claiming what is rightfully mine," Vegeta said, falling into his most familiar fighting stance. "What you dare to give to others."

"Are you -insane-?!" Yamcha cried out, falling into a defensive stance he knew wouldn't protect him, but it was his best option.

"Probably," Vegeta rasped. "I mean, I've waited patiently for you to come to me, and what do you do? You betray me! You've played me for a fool, and I -let- you, too caught up in wanting you to even notice what you were doing. I have to be insane, don't I, or maybe just an idiot?"

"Vegeta..." Yamcha whispered, shaking his head, trying to get Vegeta to understand. The anger within himself subsided quickly and gave way to understanding. 'Vegeta was clearly just mistaken and wouldn't be acting like this if he'd known. I have to explain.' He wanted to sooth the prince's jealousy, especially seeing as how it was completely unfounded, but he wasn't sure he was going to be able to. "I never did anything to betray you. There's no reason to get so angry."

"Fuck that! No reason?!" Vegeta cried out, tears pricking at the edge of his eyes. He was so angry he was ready to cry. He didn't want to lose face like that, but it was either cry with anger and frustration, or reach over and -kill- the human. "No reason? You reek of her and alcohol!"

Yamcha flushed as he shifted in a hasty retreat a few steps back. "Okay, so it might seem--"

"Don't give me that shit!" Vegeta said, glaring at the other, daring him to respond.

Yamcha was silent, shifting so that he was still out of Vegeta's grasp. He knew that if the prince wanted to press the issue, he wouldn't stand a chance. 'He's holding back. He's holding back. He's got to be holding back. Damn, what am I supposed to do?' "Vegeta... I know that you're pissed off. But you don't have any reason to be jealous."

"Oh? Give me one good reason, dammit," Vegeta snarled, closing in.

"Because I'm recruiting her to be my star pitcher?" Yamcha replied, wondering if that was a good enough reason, because in all honesty, that was the reason. "I was helping her move into her new apartment all day, because I'm the only person she knows here, and she hasn't met the rest of the team yet. So, since this is the first time she's out on her own, I thought I'd lend a hand. Afterwards, we decided to go get something to eat and share a few drinks, as a sort of informal celebration of her signing with my new team as well as her moving away from home."

Vegeta frowned, confusion marring his brow. "Pitcher?"

"Yeah. Pitcher. Remember my girls' softball team?" Yamcha further elaborated. "Don't you remember? I bought a baseball team -and- a softball team. The girl you saw me with tonight has the best fast pitch in the world. She's going to be my number one pitcher."

Vegeta opened his mouth, but his words died in his throat. He remembered. He hadn't forgotten; he just didn't think about it. He continued to glare at Yamcha, but he fell out of his aggressive stance.

Yamcha breathed an exasperated sigh. "Man. I finally start getting my life together, and -this- happens. You know, all I wanted was to rebuild something for me to invest my time and money in. I thought... if I got that straightened out, then the rest of my life would just fall into place. But this... This is crazy, Vegeta."

"Softball," Vegeta mumbled. His focus fell to the floor. His anger drained away leaving him feeling very foolish, and very embarrassed. He knew every word Yamcha said was true. This -was- crazy. -He- was crazy. "I forgot."

Yamcha sighed, breathing easier now that Vegeta wasn't trying to kill him. He gave a small smile as he looked over at the still flushed prince. Yamcha knew that he hadn't always been loyal to Bulma, but then, she hadn't exactly been loyal to him. Nor had she always been there for him when he needed her to be. For her, work and adventure came first. Oh, and Goku.

"You're still mine, though," Vegeta said, crossing his arms over his chest. Even though he felt like an ass for his outburst, he wasn't about to let Yamcha think otherwise. He slid a look at the human as he heard soft chuckling. "What?"

"You!" Yamcha returned. He smiled, relief flooding his system and making him giddy. He watched as Vegeta's eyes narrowed, knowing full well that the prince didn't like to be laughed at. But it was hard to resist when the shorter male looked so cute, flushed with embarrassment and trying to look tough! His merriment subsided after an all too brief amount of time, though he remained smiling. "I never knew how jealous you could get."

"Well, now you do," Vegeta replied softly. He scowled at the ground again, not enjoying the situation.

"Vegeta--"

"And what do you expect, anyway?" Vegeta interrupted rounding on the other male, already out of sorts, but not caring. He didn't want to make another fool of himself, so he had to find out where they stood with each other. He was tired of guessing, because it seemed he had been guessing wrong. "You're giving off all kinds of signals, the overt touching, the times I catch you staring at me. The kisses. I've held back this long, waiting for you to acknowledge that you want me, when all I've wanted to do was to grab you and throw you onto the floor, or even better, throw you onto the bed."

"Prince..."Yamcha was stunned, not expecting that bit of information. Vegeta was looking at him, tense, expecting an answer, though, so he knew he'd have to give him one. He just didn't know what kind of answer to give.

He had actually put a lot of thought into the situation and knew that he was going to give this, whatever -this- happened to be, a shot. But, he didn't want to lose his autonomy. He wanted to be his own person, not someone's slave. He was Yamcha, not some pet or possession. He just had to make sure Vegeta understood this. Because there was no mistaking it. He wanted Vegeta. There was no doubt in his mind on that topic. Who wouldn't want him? But it was Vegeta. He had no idea on how to approach him, even though they lived in the same home, and though they had been getting closer, it was still Vegeta. In all honesty, Vegeta intimidated him. With good reason, too. The prince was one of the most powerful men on the planet. And he was handsome, a fact that never left Yamcha's awareness.

Taking a deep breath, Yamcha squared his shoulders. He took the first step forward, and the rest simply followed. "Listen, Prince Vegeta. It may seem like I've been taking advantage of you, but everything I've done, -you- started."

Wide eyes watched as Yamcha came towards him, unnerving the shorter male with his confidence. Vegeta was already unsure and off balance, and found himself retreating from Yamcha's forward progression. His arms fell to his side as he fell back, away from the advancing human.

"You were the first one to touch me. You were the first one to kiss me," Yamcha said, perversely joyous as Vegeta backpedaled... right into the wall that separated his master bedroom from the living room. He continued on, even though the prince was stationary. He walked up until their bodies were almost touching. Partially balanced by one hand on the wall beside Vegeta's head, he leaned down slightly. "And you were the first one to do this, too."

Vegeta gasped loudly as he felt Yamcha's free hand grab him between the legs. Where his own grip had been harsh and cruel, Yamcha's... was not. The prince grabbed at the human's shoulder and waist, growing hard and weak at the same time. And even though Yamcha's grip wasn't as aggressive, it was assertive, firm and demanding. The ex-bandit loosened his hold only to reaffirm it, beginning to stroke the prince through the dark cloth of his dress slacks. Vegeta moaned, letting his head fall forwards to see for himself that he wasn't as insane as he thought he was, and then fell back as Yamcha continued to rub him through his pants. He wanted this. He needed it. The shorter male closed his eyes in ecstasy, biting his lower lip. He couldn't help rotating his hips, hissing in pleasure at the pressure from the scarred warrior's palm.

"If you want this, if you want me, I will not be your slave under any circumstances, got that?" Yamcha stated softly, amazed at how hard Vegeta was under his hand and how very responsive.

"Yamcha...," Vegeta rasped. He nodded his head, ready to agree to anything at that moment. He had been chaste for so long. In truth, he had been without sex for far longer than anyone had any right to know about. He hadn't shared the woman's bed since they had both decided it wasn't worth the effort, yet he hadn't taken up with anyone in order to keep up the pretenses of being with her. It had been a long, long time since he had had anyone give him pleasure, even longer since he had wanted someone to do so. And it was showing. He had no endurance, nor restraint. At the same time, he was still a warrior. He was still a prince. But what Yamcha was demanding wasn't anything he wasn't willing to grant. He opened his eyes to lock his gaze with the taller human's. "Not my slave. Never."

"Promise?" Yamcha asked, his hot breath a mere breeze over Vegeta's parted lips.

"I swear, I swear on my family's honor, and by my family crest. You will never be my slave." He couldn't help how breathless he sounded or that he was shivering. It was all Yamcha's fault, after all. Vegeta moaned as Yamcha's hand left him, only to undo his belt and slide -into- his pants. The feel of Yamcha's calloused hand on his aching sex was delicious.

"A simple 'I promise' would have worked," Yamcha whispered, just before he leaned down. Dark eyes fluttered closed as Yamcha took full advantage of his position. His kiss was the complete opposite of Vegeta's earlier one. He nipped and tugged at the prince's lower lip before settling his lips across saiyajin's. The hand on his shoulder moved to tangle in his dark hair, pulling him close. But while Vegeta seemed to want as harsh a kiss as he gave earlier, Yamcha was more inclined to be thorough.

The kiss was Vegeta's undoing. He moaned low as his seed spilt out, dampening his pants and Yamcha's palm inside them. He had to break the kiss, too little oxygen and too much pleasure making him dizzy. "Shit."

Yamcha grinned as he leaned down further to nip at Vegeta's neck and earlobe. He wanted Vegeta, and it wasn't just for the sex. If Vegeta thought otherwise... "I hope you realize... we're not done yet."

"Hn. Not by far." Vegeta agreed, closing his eyes at the feel of Yamcha's hot tongue sliding over the skin on his neck. "But that took the edge off."

The prince caught Yamcha's mouth, his hunger eased but not quenched. He tugged the other male's head forward, sealing their lips together. With his other hand, he pulled Yamcha's shirt free, allowing his calloused hands to play over firm muscles covered by scarred skin. At least in that, they were both even.

Yamcha groaned into the kiss, tasting Vegeta's aggression and wildness. His groan ended with a startled gasp, muffled by the kiss, as the prince found one of his taut nipples. The world swam around him for a moment as Vegeta played with the small nub, before he felt the wall to -his- back and the short saiyajin pressed between his legs.

The prince voiced his own pleasure as he felt Yamcha widen his stance and grab his hips to pull him closer. But as enticing as it was to think about taking the human up against a wall, Vegeta knew he wanted the bed under both of them. As if simply thinking it caused it to happen, Vegeta quickly discovered that he was laying Yamcha down on the ex-thief's bed. He broke the kiss, his breathing harsh, to lean up over the taller male.

There were no lights on, but the natural star light from outside spilt into the room from one of the windows that remained unblocked. Using the silvery blue illumination, the two stripped out of their clothes, pausing to kiss and taste the other. When they were completely free from their confining clothing, Vegeta positioned himself between Yamcha's legs. The human, denied the opportunity to kiss the royal again, pacified himself by playing with the saiyajin's fingers, taking them into his mouth and mimicking things that Vegeta had only been able to dream about. Yamcha was pushed back onto the bed, one hand placed firmly over his sternum while saliva-slicked fingers slowly penetrated him, teasing him while testing and stretching him at the same time.

Vegeta's grin was feral as he stared down with glittering eyes at how Yamcha was writhing under him. Curiously, he found that he was already moving in time with Yamcha's frantic thrusts, his arousal more than ready to be embedded inside of the taller male. When he couldn't tolerate the other man's sounds of pleasure any more, he removed his fingers. As he positioned himself, Yamcha's legs raised up, Vegeta managed to rasp out, "You have no idea how much I've wanted you, like this: under me, wanting me, begging me."

"Vegeta--," Yamcha whimpered. He let his head fall back as the prince entered him slowly. It had been a while since he had had a lover, and his body was letting him know it. But even though there was some discomfort, there was also the knowledge that it would pass. He forced his body to relax, and when Vegeta was in as deep as he could move, Yamcha found that the dull sting of before was gone, replaced by a very sharp need. He tried to buck, trying to assuage that desperation. But the prince was firm in where he was, not willing to move so soon. When Yamcha found his voice, he also found that it was very easy to give into Vegeta's request, "Vegeta, please. -Please-."

Vegeta retreated slowly, savoring the heat that surrounded him, before thrusting forward again. He had dreamed of this, but reality was far better. In his dreams, there was sex, but there was also the turbulent emotions that had assaulted him night after night. He could have lived with the dreams if they were just about the physical. But that wasn't important now. What was important was that, despite everything, and though he'd be damned a thousand times before ever admitting it to anyone, he loved Yamcha. Granted, it was the dreams that brought them together, but those dreams had stopped almost a year ago. He was in control of his life, and it was his decision to chase the scarred human. He bared his teeth as he buried his aching arousal to the hilt. He thought to set a steady, moderate tempo, but he quickly found that he couldn't keep it. Not with how vocal Yamcha was expressing his pleasure.

Yamcha moaned as the prince's hard body rocked against him, into him, hitting that pleasure spot with each stroke. He placed his hands on Vegeta's shoulders, kneading them, as he threw his head back in rapture. There was no thought. There wasn't any ability to think. There was only Vegeta and his need for the saiyajin. He began to tell Vegeta that, too, but he wasn't sure if his words came out all that coherent.

The prince increased his speed, but kept his power in check, but only barely. It was tempting to go wild, to simply release all of his restraints. He growled in pleasure at his lover's reaction. Yamcha's words degenerated into soft, one syllable vowel sounds under him with each thrust forward. The gentle touching of before had become a fierce clawing at his back and shoulders. But for each movement the prince made, Yamcha was there to meet it. With a pleased grin, the shorter male reached down between their bodies, grabbing Yamcha's erection in a stroke that left the human swearing with an unexpected climax. Vegeta cried out as his control snapped, liquid pleasure washing from him and into Yamcha, stealing all of his valued power.

Using the last bit of strength he had, Vegeta leaned over the edge of the bed and grabbed at something to clean them both off with. It was his dress shirt. He didn't even bother worrying about it, wiping Yamcha off first, and then himself, before somehow managing to climb under the covers. The royal saiyajin felt his lover pull him close; comforting arms wrapped around him, and the prince couldn't help but melt into the embrace. He looked up, seeing Yamcha's half-lidded eyes and swollen, parted lips. He sighed as he rested his head back down, trying to get his breathing to return to normal. When he knew that he would be able to form words that made sense, Vegeta raised his head again to try and thank Yamcha for... everything.

But Yamcha was already asleep. Vegeta smirked, leaning down to place a light kiss over one of many scars. He briefly tightened his arms around his lover, whispering softly, "Mine." But then he, too, fell into unconsciousness.

***

The night air was crisp and cool, somehow making the stars shining above seem all the more surreal and concrete at the same time. But that was only if you were far enough above the lights to be able to actually -see- the stars, because at ground level, the streetlights stole their beauty and created an illusion that the sky above the lights held nothing but a gloomy darkness. Flying through the air, a young demi-saiyajin raced almost unnoticed by the population of people under him. There was a single person who took notice of his passage though.

Gohan had been flying a patrol through a rough neighborhood, trying to find something to do to keep his mind and body occupied. He was in the middle of debating what to do with the next few years of his life, and he wanted to be distracted if only for a little while. He had thought that the spike of chi racing in his general direction would pass him by, but instead the person came closer. Since Gohan was merely floating rather than flying, his own powers were muffled, and it wasn't until the royal hybrid was close to him that he realized who he was raising to greet. "Hello, Goten."

"Gohan," the dark-haired prince replied evenly, if a bit warily. He stopped his mad dash, wondering briefly what he should do. Piccolo was expecting him soon. They had decided to work the same 'shift' at their respected jobs and then meet up afterwards to go home together. It wasn't a necessary thing, but they enjoyed the activity. He didn't want to talk with Gohan, but at the same time he knew that he needed to keep an eye on him and make sure that the elder demi-saiyajin knew that Piccolo was his. Only, he wasn't too sure of Gohan's ability to catch any subtle threats, and he also knew from talking with others that Gohan was powerfully strong. As in, monstrously, powerfully strong.

Gohan shifted uncomfortably across from the younger male. Whereas silence could usually be acceptable, it was a void of unease between the two demi-saiyajins. Struggling to find anything to talk about, the costumed warrior latched onto the first thing that came to mind. "That's a nice... I like your jacket."

"Really," sounded Goten, his eyes never wavering in their observant stare. Wondering if he should test the temper, if even just a little, he noted. "Piccolo picked it out for me."

"Oh. He... has very good taste." The elder male clenched his jaw as looked over the other. He had to admit that Goten -was- very well dressed. 'And Piccolo helps? I never even knew he could like clothes other than his standard outfit. Although... He does look really sexy in regular clothes...'

"Yes, he does, doesn't he..." Goten eyed the garish outfit Gohan was wearing. What was it that Vegeta said? Saiyaman or some such nonsense? 'Saving the world day by day... I guess he has nothing better to do.' Smirking, he nodded towards Gohan and commented, "And I suppose that's your... hero costume."

Flushed with slight embarrassment, Gohan stammered, "Uh, y-yeah."

"It looks ridiculous."

"That's kinda what Piccolo said when I first started wearing it."

Goten's smirk increased, his eyes gleaming a bit wickedly. "Well, like you said. He has very good taste."

"Yeah, I guess so," responded the larger demi-saiyajin. Gohan directed his eyes down towards the city, unable to hide his steady discomfiture with the youth's rather acerbic comments. He knew Goten was being honest, but he didn't want the other to make him feel any more inferior than he already did, especially since Goten had the one thing Gohan had wanted.

Goten watched as Gohan seemed to shift his attention back to the ground far below and thought that perhaps the older male was trying to return to guarding the city. He knew he was being malicious and knew that it was upsetting the other male, but there was a reason for it. Goten could tell that the elder demi-saiyajin still wasn't letting go, even after all this time. But Piccolo was his, and he wanted Gohan to understand that. "You've been wise, you know. Staying away from him."

Gohan didn't even have to ask who Goten was talking about. He looked up from the luminous metropolis below to Goten's glittering eyes. "I haven't been staying away from him. I've been busy. He's still my friend."

Goten snorted, his tail coming unwound from around his waist to snap through the air. The prince folded his arms over his chest. His expression was one of utmost disdain, as he replied with contempt, "Friend? Is that what you people here call the person you want to fuck you senseless?"

"No," Gohan replied, the pitch of his voice raising slightly.

Goten nodded his head, as if to affirm that he hadn't known, or rather, to acknowledge the correct answer. He curled his tail behind him. The young demi-saiyajin didn't think he would have another opportunity as clean as this one or as soon. He had broached this topic, and he was going to see it through. "Don't think I don't know."

"What do you mean?" Gohan asked cautiously. He had no idea what Goten was going to try and do or say, but he knew that he hadn't done anything wrong. At least, he hadn't done anything wrong by the tailed prince across from him.

"You still want him," Goten answered quietly. He floated in the air with Gohan only a few feet from him when he added dangerously soft, "You're the enemy."

"I'm not the enemy. Piccolo and I are just friends, and if you have that little faith in your relationship--"

"Oh, don't mistake me. I have no doubts or worries about my relationship with Piccolo. But you can't be trusted. I know you can't."

"And just what gives you that idea?" Gohan replied loudly, raising his hands into the air in mock surrender. His earlier dislike of the other male was fueling his anger and disgust at the discussion, and he was quickly becoming annoyed with the prince. Though, it was rather flattering to think that Goten thought he had a chance at stealing Piccolo back.

Goten floated closer to Gohan and a little higher so that the other male had to look up to him. His voice was low and threatening as he detailed, "Every time you look at him and think about how much you love him. Every time you think about him and realize again and again how much you messed it all up. Every time you see him with me and wonder why you're not me. Every time you see me and wish you could get rid of me so you could have him all to yourself again."

"Fuck you," growled the elder demi-saiyajin, baring his teeth as he glared at Goten. 'How -dare- that little brat say that about me!' Yet, deep down, Gohan knew that there was some truth to what he'd said. And that was just as bad if not worse. He didn't want to think like that.

"Don't worry. He will be," the royal smirked.

Gohan fought to keep his fury in check, to keep from lashing out at Goten with his fists. "I do -not- think like that."

Seeing that the other half-breed was struggling to avoid violence, the younger male floated back just enough to be out of arm's reach. Goten knew Gohan could kill him probably without even thinking about it, and he certainly didn't want to further rouse his ire. Returning his voice to a more conciliatory tone, he said, "Yes, you do. And I understand why. I'd feel exactly the same way if I were you."

"Because it's Piccolo," sighed Gohan. Piccolo was always to what everything came down in the end. Against all odds and even in death, Piccolo had always mattered the most. Nothing or no one came even close. Not on Earth. Not on Namek. Not in this life or the afterlife. That fact hadn't altered despite the changes through which they'd gone themselves.

"You know, I used to envy you," Goten mused aloud, keeping his voice calm and level. To show his further commitment to backing down, he allowed his tail to re-wrap itself around his waist. His original jealousy managed to seep into him somewhat as he recalled just -why- he'd envied Gohan. He'd been able to get Bulma to talk some about Piccolo and Gohan's original relationship, as it turned out she had known Piccolo and Gohan far longer than even Vegeta. The human female had even gone so far as to show Goten some old photos of the two from when Gohan was a child. The other demi-saiyajin had been so happy and apparently had the namek wrapped around his little finger; no matter where Gohan was, Piccolo was typically nearby if not right next to him. Truthfully, he still envied Gohan a little. "Once I'd figured out it was you for whom Piccolo cared so much when I first met him. Because you'd known him for so long. Because you had his attention without even trying. But then I pitied you. Because here you are, still pining away. Because he's mine."

"He was mine, first."

"But he's mine, now."

"I won't lie to you. I won't sit here and deny everything you've said. It's true. I love Piccolo," Gohan admitted. Before Goten could respond to that admission, though, he added, "But I know he doesn't love me. Not like that. Not anymore."

"It's good that you know that," Goten said carefully. He was surprised Gohan actually admitted his continued feelings for Piccolo, more so that Gohan knew that they weren't reciprocated. He began to relax, knowing that Gohan knew the situation and was accepting it, but then Gohan surprised him further by looking up into his eyes. There was a dangerous glint in the elder demi-saiyajin's eyes, one that sent chills of alarm up Goten's spine.

"But you should know this, too: if you ever, -ever- hurt him... if you ever manage fuck up this relationship... I'll be there," Gohan warned. He was torn between wanting Goten to fail at this relationship and wanting it to succeed for Piccolo's sake. He wanted Piccolo to be happy, especially after all he'd done to the tall male. Gohan continued on, not stopping to think about the consequences of his words, knowing that they didn't matter as much as Goten understanding his position. "I'll be right -there-. And he'll be mine all over again."

"Don't count on it. I would sooner die than hurt him or destroy what we have," Goten responded, and the sincerity and vehemence in his words pacified Gohan, if only a little.

"I hope you mean that."

"I do."

"Good," Gohan nodded, and then took a deep, cleansing breath as he tried to rid the tension from the exchange. "Well. I should... get back to watching over the city."

"Yeah. Go be a hero," Goten quipped, smirking.

"Don't forget what I said." The danger was still there in Gohan's voice, but he was already looking down at the city, watching and waiting.

"And don't forget what -I- said," Goten replied. He knew from simply being around the elder demi-saiyajin, and listening to what other people said, Gohan was normally a very cheerful person, one that preferred to study rather than to fight. But he also knew that Piccolo was one reason -- and he suspected that Piccolo was probably the only reason -- for which Gohan would kill. He watched as something caught Gohan's attention, and the garishly clad warrior almost fell to the earth, rocketing down to the streets below. Though no one could hear it but himself, Goten reaffirmed aloud, "He's mine, now."

***

The morning light spilt into the room with vulgar cheerfulness. Vegeta didn't open his eyes, trying to fight back the hands of time by simply not acknowledging that it was time to get up. He didn't want to, though. He was warm from the piles of covers, but mostly it was from Yamcha's body pressed against him. The prince was lying draped over his lover, his head resting on the scarred flesh of his lover's chest. He had his arms tucked against Yamcha's ribs, and his hands pinned between the firm mattress and the human's heated body. The shorter male could feel his own partial arousal rubbing with Yamcha's, slowly becoming hard.

The prince sighed as he felt Yamcha's hand following the curve of his spine from the nape of his neck to the dip at the small of his back before it retreated along the same line. Vegeta knew that he was purring, basking in the attention, even though it was a rather sloppy caress. Still, it was a caress. He wondered what Yamcha was thinking about to have him so distracted. The prince rather hoped that the taller fighter wasn't already regretting last night. It was a concern, though, and one that Vegeta did not take lightly. The small male's smile twisted as his customary scowl set in place. 'Hn. He'd better NOT regret it, dammit.' It seemed that with the morning light, Vegeta's uncertainty came forward again. But then, if Yamcha was regretting things, why was he being affectionate? The prince's scowl melted away with the continuous stroking at his back. 'Maybe he doesn't. Maybe... It'd be too much to ask that he love me, so I'm not going to bother. But it would be nice if he did.'

He opened his eyes and raised his head, acknowledging that if he was going to start the day, then perhaps he'd be able to start it off in the best way possible. And since it seemed that Yamcha was inviting him to more love play, it would only be reasonable for him to accept the invite.

Only, Yamcha wasn't awake.

Vegeta blinked his eyes, watching as Yamcha continued to sleep, only then recognizing the soft snores of the human male. Rolling his eyes in silent laughter, Vegeta laid back down, more content than when he had first awakened. The hand at his back didn't even pause in its slow stroke. The prince took a deep breath, letting it slide out slowly. Yamcha didn't even realize what he was doing, unconsciously being affectionate. Vegeta felt boneless at that moment. The simple act was more a gift than anything the prince had ever received. He relished the chance to soak in it, wanting to never move from that spot.

Slowly, though, Vegeta felt that the male under him awaken. There was no good morning greeting. There were no whispered words of affection. There was only the silence between them, and Yamcha's continued caressing. The prince waited for the moment when Yamcha would stop petting him, would withdraw that small token of affection so freely given. He didn't want it to happen, but he was waiting for it.

Instead of withdrawing his hand, though, Yamcha asked out of the blue, "Do you miss it? Your tail, I mean."

Vegeta blinked, raising his head to look at Yamcha's serious gaze. The hand at his back hadn't even touched the physical memory of his tail, so why Yamcha was asking about it, he had no clue. The prince thought of two different answers he could reply with, but instead he chose to answer with the truth. "Sometimes. A lot of times."

"How do you deal with it being gone?" Yamcha questioned, a strange thickness to his voice. "I mean, it was a part of you."

"And it will always be a part of me," Vegeta replied. "Even now, I can feel where it was, like a dull itch. But just by feeling that itch, I know that it was there and that it will always be a part of me. I had to learn how to balance without it, which wasn't any fun, but I did."

Yamcha nodded his head slowly, taking in Vegeta's words. However, the prince wasn't quite done.

"I had to relearn to walk after it was severed. And sometimes I still forget that it's not there, and I'll do something that will throw me off for a moment. And sometimes, if I'm not careful, I'll fall. Usually that only happens when I'm tired and not paying attention, though, or injured," the prince said thoughtfully. After a short pause, he added, "You'll always feel the scar, Yamcha. But it's up to you to relearn to walk."

"Mmm. That doesn't really sound like you. So... philosophical," Yamcha said, but then he smiled warmly and hugged the saiyajin close.

Vegeta shrugged, as if answering him, but returned the hug. He closed his eyes as he took another deep breath, savoring the scent of the other male. While he knew that it wouldn't take much more than a kiss for him to become fully aroused, Vegeta didn't push the issue. He opened his mouth to speak again, and the phone rang. It was a muffled cell phone ring, coming from inside the room. They both turned to look at the edge of the bed.

"Damn," Yamcha muttered. "Is that your phone or mine?"

"I think it's yours," Vegeta grinned, finally surrendering to the inevitable. It was time to start the day. But at least he wasn't alone in not wanting to.