Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Peaches & Cream ❯ Chapter 3

Peaches and Cream-Chapter Three

The kiss was hot and wet, filled with desire. Teasing fingers trailed down his chest, burning a path along his skin. That sweet mouth shifted to his throat, biting and sucking, caressing. Head thrown back, he moaned as the fingers moved lower. He ached for their touch.

Please, `Geta....

Strong hands pushed him onto his back. He felt lips pressed firmly against his sweating chest. A spike of black hair tickled his nose, somehow erotic. He closed his eyes as his lover's mouth worked its way down his stomach.

Please....

His hips were held down, and he felt the faint touch of a tongue on the tip of his erection. He moaned once more, trying to thrust upward into the waiting heat. The tongue returned, taunting him with small, soft licks.

Please....

When he thought he could bear it no more, that perfect mouth closed over him, suckling. His entire body taut, he let the waves of pleasure wash over him. Hands ran up and down his body, kneading his muscles and soothing his skin. All thought fled. Inside him, a pressure began to build. Each delicious moment brought him closer to completion; the need for it consumed him.

He was so near release that he sobbed aloud when his lover pulled back, only to sob yet again as he was slowly encased once more. The leisurely torment was more than he could stand.

Please....

The pace quickened in response to his plea, and he gasped in surprised ecstasy. His lover sucked harder. His back arching, he felt the pressure within him reach its peak.

Crying out, Goku came hard into the waiting mouth. His body pulsed, sending shivers of orgasmic pleasure through him. The mouth convulsed in tandem, swallowing his essence, then moved to lap up the stray drops. Shuddering one last time, Goku collapsed back into the comfort of the mattress.

For several seconds he lay still, staring cross-eyed at the blank ceiling and trying to get his breath. Finally he blinked a few times and peered curiously down the length of his abdomen. Vegeta knelt between his legs, upswept ebony hair mussed from more than sleep. The saiyan prince's infinity-black eyes, half-lidded, met his, and he was briefly overwhelmed by the look of sheer desire. Then he smirked at Goku and licked his lips.

"It's about time you woke up, Kakarott. I got tired of waiting, so I went ahead and had my breakfast."

Goku grinned in response. He could definitely get used to waking up this way. The heady scent of sweat and sex filled the small bedroom, quickly chasing all thoughts of actual food from his mind. Sunlight trickling in between deep red drapes told him it was indeed morning. The brawny saiyan stretched, feeling lethargic. Not exhausted-though after yesterday's emotional roller coaster, he felt he had the right. Actually, he felt pretty good. And was about to feel more than pretty good, if the look his prince was giving him was any indication. Last night's `activities', though bountiful, had not gone far toward sating either of them. Whether this was because they had waited eight years for the experience or because saiyans shared genes with rabbits, Goku neither knew nor cared.

"Well, you could have saved some for me," Goku said, feigning indignation. He sat up, leaning forward to kiss his new lover.

Vegeta accepted the affectionate gesture-Goku was slightly surprised, in spite of everything-and nuzzled him playfully. "Don't worry," he murmured huskily. "There's plenty left."

Down the hall, Gohan blinked awake. Birds were twittering just outside the open window. Apparently, it had been long enough since Vegeta had sent that ki blast at them that they had decided it was safe again. The tree where they used to perch, unfortunately, had not yet forgiven or forgotten. The young demi-saiyan smiled to himself at the memory. He stretched slowly, brushing bangs from his dark eyes. He'd slept well last night, without his demanding lover trying to keep him awake. It had been a welcome respite for his bottom, also, he thought ruefully. Still, he had missed the other's arms around him as he slept.

Gohan sighed. It was a small price to pay to have his father back at last. And to be able to let go of the jealousy he hadn't known he carried. Seeing Goku again had been a relief; he hadn't realized just how much he'd missed him, all those years. It was nice to have a complete family again, strange though it was. Well worth spending every other night alone.

That was what they had decided over a late supper-that Vegeta would alternate between father and son-although Goku had been reticent to claim his new rights so quickly. Gohan had insisted that he do so, partly out of desire to allow his elders to truly reunite and partly out of lingering guilt.

Is this really okay with you, son?

His father's words. Wanting to make sure before things went too far, he supposed; always looking out for him. Yes, he'd missed Goku more than he'd thought.

It's really okay, Daddy.

Smiling once more, the teen crawled out of bed. Without bothering to glance at the clock, he moved to the stack of freshly cleaned clothes and carefully ruffled through them. He hesitated as he pulled out his favorite pair of jeans. Another moment's thought, and he put them back, reaching down to pull out the bottom drawer of the dresser. Inside was one of his father's old orange gi, rescued from his mother's house before he'd left. It would be a little big on him still; he was more slender than Goku. Still, it seemed oddly appropriate that he should wear it now.

The teen pulled on some clean briefs before slowly donning the uniform. It was a tad loose, but comfortable. He absently bound his hair back before looking at himself in the mirror.

What he saw was a shock. Gohan couldn't quite believe he was looking at himself. He'd always known he looked like his father, but...in this gi, he was the spitting image of Goku. The only oddity was his long hair, and the spiky bangs that had always been a little different. A slow grin spread across his face. Poor Vegeta wouldn't know which way to look.

The idle thought was interrupted as his keen hearing picked up on faint sounds coming from the other end of the house. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. How could they possibly be at it again, after what he'd heard last night? Gohan sighed and attempted to ignore the sounds of passion; some of those cries were his lover's, and, enduring soreness notwithstanding, very arousing. Giving one last tug at his gi, Gohan decided to distract himself by making breakfast. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Then again, Vegeta saw to their other meals. Those requiring some actual skill beyond turning on the blender, he admitted wryly. Cooking for three ravenous saiyans (and they were always ravenous, no matter how hotly the prince might deny it) would take all his attention.

Padding barefoot down the carpeted hall, Gohan had barely reached the kitchen when the phone rang. He hastened across the tile and answered it with a cheerful `good morning'.

"Well, I suppose it is," Bulma said from the other end of the line. "Anything in particular making it good? Or do I want to know?"

The demi-saiyan grinned. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"You'd be surprised what I'll-TRUNKS! Don't you dare touch that, young man! Sorry, Gohan. Anyway, I just wanted to know if I could bring over those formulas when Trunks and I come this afternoon...which we will only be doing if he behaves himself!" The last was apparently a threat, for Trunks would do anything to avoid missing a day at Gohan and Vegeta's.

"That's fine," Gohan replied with a chuckle. "I'll have them ready by Monday morning, so we can get started. Oh, did you get permission for Goten to come with you?" He had long since reconciled himself to the fact that his mother hated him-or at least his lifestyle-but he was thankful that she still allowed him to see his younger brother. Only with Bulma's supervision, of course. That, too, was one surprise he had yet to tell Goku. They had discussed many things yesterday, but neither father nor son had been prepared to bring up Chichi. Gohan was especially reluctant to touch on that subject, given her feelings towards Vegeta.

"Miraculously, yes," Bulma replied. "I convinced her that since Trunks has Sundays off school, Goten should, too. We'll be there around noon, all right?"

"Great! Thanks, Bulma."

"No prob. See you in a-Trunks, what did I just tell you..."

Gohan jerked his ear back as Bulma slammed down the phone. Maybe he should have told her about Goku. No way would she punish Trunks then. He shrugged and replaced the receiver.

Speaking of which...maybe he should have told his father about Goten after all, he thought as he set about preparing a triple batch of pancakes. With the shock of his arrival, Gohan had forgotten that Goku had yet to meet his youngest son. And he had been trying so hard to avoid mentioning his mother (he had no idea what Goku planned to do about her, or if he'd even thought of it yet) that it hadn't occurred to him until he was reminded of Bulma's visit.

Humming tunelessly to himself, the tall demi-saiyan added another box of mix to his batter while trying to recall exactly what he had told Son Goku. There had been more eating than talking going on during yesterday's breakfast-unsurprisingly-but afterwards the three of them had had a long chat. Or rather, he and his father had had a long chat, with Vegeta interjecting the occasional grunt or sardonic comment; some things never change. Gohan remembered mentioning leaving home to train with Vegeta (without going into too much detail about the reason), and then going into dozens of anecdotes about their subsequent relationship, once it became clear that Goku was not at all resentful-was, in fact, eager to hear all about it. He'd only flinched once, to his credit. That was when Gohan had admitted he'd lost his virginity to the saiyan prince at fourteen. His father had shot a scandalized look at Vegeta, who of course didn't even have the decency to appear chagrined.

The teen sighed and chuckled simultaneously. If yesterday was any indication, the rest of his life was going to be perfect. He switched on the stove and got ready to pour, wondering how long it would be before Bulma arrived with the kids.

He had finally remembered that she was coming while he and Vegeta were showing Goku around the house. The gravity chamber had caused his father to ask, tentatively, about the lovers' ongoing relationship with Bulma and family. Gohan had casually decided to leave the visit for a surprise, and not to mention Goten. The day had been stressful enough as it was without Goku learning he had another son, mainly because it would have forced them to discuss Chichi. Gohan sighed again, a bit regretfully this time. He didn't like having to dodge the subject of his mother. Then again, he didn't like her attitude towards him.

The first batch of pancakes was sizzling when he heard bare feet on the tile behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, bowl in hand, to see Goku standing just inside the doorway. Dressed in an identical outfit-the only clothes he had-his father's wide black eyes appeared startled. Then a pleased, almost wistful smile spread across his face. He moved wordlessly across the room to stand in front of Gohan. Unconsciously, the demi-saiyan set down his bowl, and was immediately enveloped in a gentle embrace. One smooth cheek resting against Goku's chest, he heard the other man's faint whisper.

"I was afraid it was all just a dream..."

//It's not, Dad,// he sent. //We're here.// His father hugged him tighter.

Abruptly, Gohan was hit by the smell of pancakes turning into crispy critters. He pulled away reluctantly, eyeing the smoking pan. "Good thing I made plenty of batter," he remarked ruefully.

Goku chuckled, his tender expression replaced by a goofy, give-me-food grin. "I'll help," he offered. "I could...uh...crack eggs or something."

Grinning back, Gohan replied, "Sure, Dad." He hastily removed the pan and disposed of its contents. "Oh, I've got a little surprise for you."

That perked the elder saiyan right up. "What is it? What is it?" he asked eagerly.

"Well, Bulma's coming over today, and she's bringing someone I want you to meet."

"Bulma? That's great! I can't wait to see her! And little Trunks-gosh, not so little any more, I guess!-will he come, too?"

The youth almost laughed at his father's exuberance. But then, Goku had known Bulma since he was a child. "Yeah, it's sort of Trunks' visiting day with Vegeta. They come over usually once a week-when we aren't over there."

Goku stirred over this information for a moment, pleased but puzzled. "Who's coming with them?" he asked finally, unable to stand not knowing.

"Crack the eggs, Dad," Gohan replied, smiling mysteriously.

Meanwhile, Vegeta was taking his time in the shower, thinking. Wondering, mostly. He'd spent the majority of his life a merciless warrior; Goku had been the first to make him want to be something different. The first to make him feel something different. The first to understand. The terror of change and self-loathing would have destroyed him without the younger saiyan's support. Not that the terror had lessened, though. Love was a frightening emotion. Losing Kakarott had almost driven him back into his shell of hatred. But he'd felt responsible for Trunks, and for Gohan, and had turned those feelings into a new life. A life not so devoid of happiness as he'd thought it would be. Gohan's trust, and later his love, had given him that. And now, when he'd thought life couldn't get much better, his first love was returned to him.

The prince scowled around the soapsuds. His luck had never been this good. Someone, somewhere was playing a joke on him.

He admitted it was a nice joke.

Shortly after noon, the three saiyans were lounging on the front porch waiting for Bulma. All were stuffed with pancakes and scrambled eggs that had contained surprisingly few shell bits. Gohan was prattling on, trying to explain his job as a chemist to his father. Goku looked a bit baffled, but proud. Standing behind them, Vegeta glared cross-armed at his two mates. They'd had no right to play such a horrid joke on him. How dare they look so much alike, anyway! Not that he'd felt in the least bit faint when they'd turned around in unison and chimed `Morning, `Geta!' with those identical Son grins-of course he hadn't! He was the prince of all saiyans, rightful ruler of Planet Vegeta; he never felt faint! Perhaps just a little...startled. Yes. A little. He scowled. It was all their fault, anyway. Damn Kakarott and his brat of a son.

His lingering annoyance-he'd known there had to be a downside!-faded with the sound of an approaching aircar. His lovers ceased their chatter to rise, looking expectantly upwards.

//I'll bet anything you like he passes out,// Vegeta sent to Gohan, not for the first time.

//I'm not betting against you,// the teen replied, eyeballing his father. Goku was shifting excitedly from foot to foot, occasionally running a hand through his thick, black hair. The bright yellow aircar sped into view, flying low to the ground as it approached the wide lawn. Before it had fully settled to the ground, the rear door opened and a small figure leaped out. Close-cropped lavender hair and a Capsule Corps t-shirt marked Trunks, laughing over the thrum of the engines. His mother, in identical t-shirt and shorts, followed as soon as the craft was shut off. Bulma's aqua hair was as short as her son's, neatly framing her angular face, but she wasn't laughing. Instead she frowned intently at the boy's back as he took off towards the group on the porch.

Goku smiled. Same old Bulma.

She spotted him standing there and gaped, then was racing after Trunks. The boy barely spared him a glance as he dove first into Gohan's arms, then a recalcitrant Vegeta's. Bulma unknowingly mimicked him with her old friend, laughing with delight.

"Goku! You're back! You're alive!"

"You're strangling me," the tall saiyan managed, patting her back awkwardly, but grinning.

She obediently pulled back. "But...how in Kami's name did this happen?" Her smile turned to a scowl as she rounded on the other two. "Gohan! You little monster! Why didn't you tell me?! And you," she demanded, glaring at her former lover. "Why didn't you call me right away?"

Gohan looked slightly abashed, but Vegeta snorted. "It's not my job to report to you, woman."

"Yeah," Trunks agreed sternly, folding his arms in perfect imitation of his proud father.

Bulma just glared harder at Vegeta, as if to say, Now see what you've done? Then she shrugged and turned back to Goku. "It doesn't matter. I'm just glad you're back. We've all missed you. But what are you doing here? I thought you'd go straight to-" At Gohan's sharp look, she cut off. "I'm glad you're back," she repeated.

"It's good to see you, too, Bulma. And Trunks. I guess he doesn't recognize me," Goku chuckled, hand behind his head. At a nudge from his father, the little demi-saiyan stepped forward and held out his hand in greeting.

"You're Son Goku," he announced. "Uncle Gohan's dad. Father talks about you all the time." Goku smiled and clasped the small hand.

Vegeta spluttered, face flushing. "I most certainly do not!"

Trunks turned to him, blinking. "Sure you do, Dad. You're always saying, `Try harder, brat. If Kakarott were here, he'd throw you on your ass.'"

"Trunks!" Bulma exclaimed. "Watch your language!" She turned on Vegeta as if to reprimand him, as well, when Goku gasped in surprise. The four followed his incredulous gaze past them to the aircar, where another small figure was hopping out.

Trunks snorted, Vegeta-like. "Geez, Goten, I thought you glued yourself to the seat again." The spikey-haired boy looked embarrassed as he turned to retrieve a small bag from the aircar.

Goku's mouth worked silently, unaware that everyone was now staring at him save Trunks. "Hey!" he managed finally. "Th-there's a little me over there!"

Gohan stepped forward and put a steadying hand on Goku's shoulder. "Dad, I'd like you to meet my little brother, Goten."

Eyes even rounder than before, Goku stared at the approaching boy. "That's...my son?"

Gohan nodded proudly. "Yup. He was born a few months after you left. He turned super-saiyan this year," he added, beaming-Gohan, Vegeta and Trunks had done their best to train Goten behind his mother's back. Goku beamed back in spite of himself. For his part, Goten approached curiously, having seen the tall stranger with his family. Perpetually wide eyes stared up at this new yet familiar face, and he didn't hesitate to walk right up to the man.

"Hi, I'm Goten," he announced cheerfully. "Who are you?"

Goku knelt slowly in front of the boy. "It's nice to meet you, Goten," he said with a warm, gentle smile. "My name is Goku."

Gohan stepped forward and ruffled his brother's hair. "This is our daddy, Goten. He came back from the next dimension to live with us."

Innocent black eyes widened further. "Daddy?" he repeated, looking hopefully at Goku.

"That's right, son," Goku acknowledged, smile widening. His eyes closed happily as the child threw small but strong arms around his neck. Four gazes rested on the two. Bulma looked ready to pull out a handkerchief, Gohan looked insufferably pleased with himself, Trunks looked a bit confused and a bit embarrassed, and Vegeta couldn't seem to decide whether he was touched by the scene or about to sick up. Fortunately, the whole event didn't last long, as the eight-year-old seemed ready to tell Goku his life story.

"That's Trunks," Goten pointed, in case that fact had been missed. "He's my best friend. He helps me study, `cause the homework Mom gives me is really hard. Plus we fight a lot. He just about always wins, though. But I beat him last week when-"

The boy plunked down by Goku on the porch step, still talking, and Gohan sat on his other side. No one noticed Trunks slipping into the house, and Bulma took the opportunity to pull Vegeta aside.

"Vegeta, what exactly is going on here?" she asked quietly, concerned now that she was no longer distracted by the sap. He gave her the patient look of one about to explain the obvious, but she elaborated before he could do so. "I mean, obviously somehow Goku came back, but what's he doing here? I'd have sworn the first thing he'd want to do is see Chichi, and he had no way of knowing Gohan wouldn't be with her, too."

Vegeta regarded her silently for a moment. "How do you know he hasn't already been to see the old harpy?"

Bulma's blue-eyed glare was haughty. "You've never treated me like I was stupid before; don't start now. Chichi would have called me if she knew Goku was back, and Goten wouldn't be meeting his father for the first time. And don't tell me that he just arrived, either." The prince nodded slightly, the closest he ever came to apologizing. "So what am I missing? Why didn't he go straight home?"

Once more he was silent, this time cautiously so. "I neither know nor care what Kakarott plans to do about that bitch of a female," he stated finally. "As for going straight home-he did." He folded his muscular arms as if daring her to correct him.

She frowned at this seemingly contradictory statement, then blinked as she realized what he meant by `home'. "But...Chichi...."

"Seems to have done quite well without him every other time he's been gone, besides the fact that she's always treated him like an infant, didn't allow him to raise his own son, and disowned that son for being too much like his father," Vegeta snapped. "I doubt she will even care whether Kakarott is back, and once he learns how she treated his firstborn, he'll never want to see her again!"

Bulma bit back the first comment that came to mind, which was that no matter what Chichi thought of Gohan, she mentioned missing Goku almost every time they spoke. She stopped short of voicing her second thought, as well, which was that Chichi was still his wife in spite of everything. Technically, that hadn't been true since Gohan was six years old. The marriage vows, after all, said `til death do us part', and Son Goku had died not once, but twice. Bulma's third thought, however, came out. "You may be right, Vegeta, but you still haven't explained why he didn't go to her to begin with, before he knew about Gohan."

To her utter shock, the saiyan's cheeks actually turned a little crimson. "You'll have to ask him," he replied, not looking at her.

Bulma placed her hands firmly on her hips. "I'm sure you have some idea," she demanded.

With an effort, Vegeta drew himself up and regained some of his usual arrogant swagger. His midnight eyes were chips of ice, but his voice was heated. "If you want my opinion, woman, he came where he knew he would be loved!"

Once again, Bulma frowned, perplexed. "But he didn't know Gohan would be here."

"No," Vegeta agreed tersely. "He didn't."

His meaning was immediately obvious. Seeing it was reminiscent of being punched in the stomach. In the background, she could hear Goten telling his father and brother about the video game he and Trunks had been playing recently. Gohan's laughter hit her equally hard. Bulma thought she might fall over.

"I know what you're thinking, woman."

She turned a deliberately cool gaze at the man she'd once hoped to marry. "Do you."

He sniffed. "Something along the lines of, `How could you hurt Gohan, I thought you loved him, was your whole relationship just a facade, even you couldn't be so cruel, why haven't you told Goku about him'. Correct?" He didn't even wait for her nod. "I would never hurt Gohan, you know very well that I love him," he almost stumbled over speaking those words to someone besides his mate, "I am not being cruel, and Kakarott probably knows more than you do about my relationship with his brat." She opened her mouth, but Vegeta ran right over her questions. "Not that it's any of your business, but they both agree that there's more than enough of me to go around. So if you're done wondering when I'm going to try destroying the planet again, I'll just let you think about that." The look he gave her could have shattered diamonds.

After a moment, she stammered, "I'm sorry, Vegeta." He harrumphed, still appearing offended. "I shouldn't have assumed," she continued, conciliatory. "Of course you'd never hurt Gohan. Or Goku." When it was clear he was no longer really angry, she added faintly, "Did you mean...what you said about them agreeing...?"

The prince just looked smug.

Bulma sighed. It must be some kind of saiyan thing; she was not going to ask. Maybe Trunks' human genes would be dominant. She turned back to the three Sons, and realized her child was nowhere in sight. "Hey, you guys, where's Trunks?"

Simultaneously, they blinked, looked around, rose, and looked around some more. Goten called out, "Hey, Trunks, where'd you go?" No reply.

"He probably went inside to grab a snack or something," Gohan supplied, noticing the slightly open door. "Sounds like a good idea. How about some coffee, Bulma?"

"Sure," she answered, trying not to blush as it hit her for the second time that he knew very well that his father and lover were involved. It was all Vegeta's fault! She couldn't believe she'd ever been in love with the man!

The group followed Gohan across the porch, Goten latched onto Goku's big hand. "I think there are some cookies left, too," the teen continued, reaching out to push the door further open. There was an odd, faint scrape, followed suddenly by a slosh and a clang. Gohan froze a single step into the house, gasping wetly as he dripped. The now-empty bucket, which had fallen on him from atop the door, landed and rolled a short distance across the deep blue carpet.

The surprised stares lasted only moments, however. Goten began giggling furiously, Goku chuckling along with him. A piqued glare from Gohan failed to move them. Vegeta inconspicuously placed a hand in front of his mouth. He got the worst glare. Bulma, meanwhile, had a fairly good idea what had happened.

"Trunks!" she shouted, resisting the urge to laugh herself. "You come out here this minute and apologize!"

When there was no immediate response, Vegeta slipped past Gohan, putting on a stern face as he did so. He strode over to the couch and plucked the boy in question from behind it. Dangling by the scruff of his shirt, Trunks grinned weakly at his father. "Hi, Dad," he said.

"Don't play innocent with me, boy," Vegeta growled, carrying him over to Gohan before setting him down. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Looking at his sneakers, Trunks muttered, "I'm sorry, Uncle Gohan," sounding not in the least so.

"Now go get some towels and clean this up," the prince ordered. The boy trudged woefully out of the room.

"Could you grab me a shirt, `Geta?" Gohan requested, stripping off his soaked upper garments and tossing them out onto the porch rail. Vegeta eyed him, smirked lewdly, and followed Trunks out. "Sorry, Bulma," Gohan added as she pointedly looked elsewhere.

"Oh, that's all right," she said hastily. "I'm sorry about Trunks. He promised to be on his best behavior today."

"That is Trunks' best behavior," Goten pointed out, puffing up as if to show that he, at least, knew how to be good.

Coming back through the kitchen together, Trunks looked at his father over an armload of towels. Vegeta glanced down at him. "Next time, wait until your mother leaves," the prince suggested with a wink. His son grinned.

* * * * *

"You're sure Goten won't tell Chichi?" Goku asked, sponging oatmeal out of Gohan's long black hair.

"Yeah, he can keep a secret," Gohan replied, glancing at the clock. It was 8:52 am. He had just enough time left to get to work.

"Good," said his father. "With luck, she'll never even realize I'm back. It sorta seems like a coward's way out, but I think she'll be happier not knowing." He set down the sponge. "I think that's all of it. Sorry about that, Gohan."

The half-saiyan shrugged. "No harm done. I'd better get going. See you tonight, Dad." He pecked Goku on the cheek and scurried out of the house, grabbing his briefcase on the way.

Glancing wryly around the kitchen, Goku began cleaning up the rest of the mess he'd made. Who knew oatmeal could be so difficult to cook? He swiped a finger through a particularly large glob and ate it-at least it tasted okay!

About half an hour later, the majority of the oatmeal was either in Goku's stomach or in the wastebasket. The saiyan licked his lips and headed down the hall to Vegeta and Gohan's bedroom. He opened the door slowly, peeking in. The prince lay in the center of the large bed, still sleeping. Goku slunk into the room on tiptoe.

He approached the bed slowly, and stood silently over it for a moment. Vegeta lay flat on his back under a pile of dark blankets. A shaft of morning light spilled across his bronzed skin, making him glow. Curiously, Goku inhaled. He recognized Gohan's scent, sweet and delicate, faint without his presence. The equally saccharine aroma of lovemaking permeated the room. His blood heated faintly as he noted it. Then he detected his prince's musk, strong and spicy. He breathed it in hungrily. Before him, Vegeta twitched slightly in his sleep, murmuring. Goku smiled. He looked so peaceful.

The brawny saiyan leaped onto the bed (it creaked alarmingly, despite its sturdiness), landing on all fours astride his lover. Vegeta yelped in surprise, leaping backwards as sleep-blinded obsidian eyes flew open wildly. Finally, he recognized Goku's broad grin. He scowled, panting. "Damn...you...Kakarott..."

"It's morning!" Goku announced with all of his usual good cheer. "Let's go spar!"

Vegeta opened his mouth to snap at him...and closed it again. He could no more remain angry at Kakarott than at Gohan; it was a weakness, he supposed, but one time seeing his younger mate's playful smile melt into tears had convinced him tolerance was more pleasant for everyone. So he swallowed his exasperation as best he could and sat up. "What the hell is in your hair?" he asked instead.

"Huh?" Goku replied brilliantly. Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Oh, it must be more oatmeal," said the younger saiyan, patting his spiky hair to find it.

"More oatmeal...? No, I'm not going to ask." The prince took Goku's face in his hands and kissed him. "Now get off me," he said with mock roughness. "I'll beat the shit out of you after I've eaten."

Goku's eyes narrowed. "You think so?" he challenged, looking eager to find out.

Vegeta smirked, as much at the sudden change in his mate as in response. Human to saiyan in 2.6 seconds, he thought, amused. What other tricks can you do, lover?

The prince learned of many over the next several days-days they spent together, for the most part, while Gohan was at work. A battle between level-two super saiyans left Vegeta unconscious for several minutes, and both of them so exhausted they hardly moved until Gohan returned that evening. Vegeta hardly even minded losing. It was reminiscent of old times. Later in the week, Goku almost single-handedly got them thrown out of an all-you-can-eat buffet, successfully babysat Trunks and Goten for three hours, and nearly successfully cooked an entire meal by himself. He also proved he could master the Kama Sutra as though it were a martial art.

Evenings, when the three weren't training, Vegeta read while Gohan and Goku talked or played games. If Gohan had extra work to do, Vegeta taught Goku about his ancestry. Though he'd been only a child when his home had been destroyed, he had an overwhelming store of knowledge on the subject. His pride had made sure no bit of saiyan lore had been forgotten. Goku argued as much as he listened, but he did listen...and remember. Father, son, and their lover quickly adapted to their new circumstances, and no conflicts arose between them. Except, of course, when Goku was forbidden by Vegeta to ever touch the washing machine again.

Then, on Friday, Gohan had to work late.

"Don't wait up for me, guys. I probably won't be home until after ten."

"Why so late?" Goku asked around a mouthful of cereal.

Gohan stuffed some notes haphazardly into his briefcase and shut it. "We're testing a new product today, and it has to be monitored closely. I don't think anyone else will be there tonight, so it's up to me."

"You work too hard, brat," Vegeta mumbled. Gohan could feel his mate's dissatisfaction.

"I'll take a week's vacation soon," he conceded, kissing the prince. Goku received a one-armed hug. "I've got to go."

"Bye, Gohan!" he heard his father call after him.

As usual, the ebon-haired teen felt a bit silly, flying about in a suit with his briefcase trailing behind him. Nonetheless, he arrived at Capsule Corps' most expansive laboratory at 9am precisely-in just under five minutes. Gohan landed on the roof, straightened his tie, and hastened inside.

Ten hours later, exhausted, he peeled off his stained lab coat and trudged back to the roof. Thank everything holy you showed up, Stevens, he thought. I'll tell Bulma to give you a raise.

It was a slow flight this time, to the home he shared with his father and lover. Gohan landed with a sigh of relief on their front porch and went inside.

"Dad? `Geta?" he called, casting about for them. When there was no response, he felt about for their ki signatures. They weren't near the house, he sensed; in fact, the two saiyans appeared to be some distance away, locked in battle. Tossing aside his briefcase, Gohan divested himself of jacket, tie, and shoes before heading to the kitchen. A Tupperware full of cold ravioli and a spoon accompanied him to the heavy oak table where he seated himself. "What a day," he murmured. Too bad it was Goku's night with Vegeta; otherwise, he might have gotten a backrub.

When the ravioli was gone, Gohan rose once more. He dropped the empty container into the sink and gulped some water straight from the faucet. Feeling energized, he recalled the new clothes he'd bought for his father needed to be put away. If he could find where Goku had stashed them.

The large sack turned out to be right where it'd been left. That is to say, randomly plunked in the corner of the guest room, by happenstance next to the small walk-in closet. Humming softly, Gohan began unfolding and hanging each item. Several times he kicked at the door in annoyance; it had a tendency to slide shut if not propped open. Even so, it was pleasant to do something that didn't require excessive concentrating on his part.

The bag emptied at last, the tired demi-saiyan turned to go when something caught his eye. One of a few cardboard boxes stacked in the very back of the little closet had his name written on it in the saiyan language. Frowning in confusion, he tugged the box out from the rest, not noticing as the door slid shut behind him. It was Vegeta's handwriting, of course; Gohan was not nearly so good at the foreign script.

Neither of them had been into this closet in years, so it must be something the prince had stuffed in here not long after they'd begun living together. So why was his name on it? The teen curiously pulled apart the flaps, trying not to get too much dust on his trousers. Reaching inside, he removed a folded wad of clothes. He blinked. They were as old as he suspected; some of these he had worn even before the fight with Cell. Why on earth had Vegeta kept them all this time?

Shrugging, Gohan started to stuff the garments back into the box when a sudden noise stopped him. A low moan and a growl came from behind him. He set down the box and turned slowly around, only to be confronted with the inside of the closet door. Cursing softly, he started to open it when he heard a voice, husky and unintelligible, followed by another moan and more growls. The teen paled as he realized what was happening. Goku and Vegeta had returned, obviously too distracted to note his presence. He eased open the door a bit, peering cautiously out.

The blood returned to his cheeks in a rush. He had a perfect view of his father's chisled backside, which Vegeta's hands were exploring with fervor. The two nude saiyans turned in their antics until he could see them in profile, kissing fiercely. They were bruised, covered with sweat and blood, yet obviously feeling vital. Very, very vital, Gohan noted, turning crimson from head to toe. He had to get out of here before this became even more embarrassing! But how could he do so unobserved?

The hidden youth glumly realized there was no way. He would have to walk right past the bed. Distracted or no, he doubted the lovers would miss him. Not only would that be absolutely mortifying, he'd never hear the end of it from Vegeta. Gohan heaved a sigh. He would just have to stay in here until they fell asleep. It shouldn't be too long, he reassured himself. They'd just been fighting hard, after all. And that was a mental image he did not need.

Beginning to ease the door shut, Gohan abruptly stopped in his tracks, surprised. But it wasn't the absolutely feral grin on his father's face that kept him from retreating into the closet, although it certainly gave him pause. It was Vegeta's words.

"Please, Kakarott," He pulled his nails down the taller saiyan's back, hard enough to draw blood. "Don't tease me anymore."

Gohan's lips parted in shock. He could count on one hand the number of times the prince had said `please' to him in their six years together-he didn't even need all the fingers. And...Goku teasing Vegeta?! Gohan was quietly impressed; he hadn't known his father had it in him.

Blushing all over again, he tried to put that thought out of his head. This was none of his business. He started to duck back behind the door, but was frozen once more, midnight eyes widening. If the prince's words had jolted Gohan, what he saw now absolutely floored him.

Goku took Vegeta by the arms and pushed him, none too gently, down onto the bed. Moving quickly, he straddled his lover, preventing him from rising, and pressed their lips together with bruising force. The elder saiyan growled deep in his throat, thrusting upwards with his swollen erection, but Goku shifted back a bit and the thrust met only air. Vegeta thrashed, but Goku refused to let go his hold. He moved his mouth to Vegeta's neck, nipping the sensitive skin, inciting a low moan. His toothful kisses meandered down the prince's muscled chest, saliva-coated fingers slipping between his legs. The smaller man only continued to lie there meekly-well, meekly for Vegeta; he seemed too caught up in the sensations his lover was kindling to produce more than a cursory struggle.

Not noticing that his breathing had increased, Gohan wasn't sure what to think. His father and their shared lover seemed to have undergone some strange role reversal. The proud saiyan prince was being almost submissive, allowing himself to be dominated...and seemed to be enjoying it. The teen was almost ready to write the whole scenario off as some sort of prank. Tentatively, he reached out for his lover's mind, touching Vegeta's thoughts with his own delicately enough that he wouldn't be noticed. A hot flood of emotions raced back along their bond, burning through him to settle in his loins. Oh, yes, Vegeta was enjoying this.

Closing off the link once more did nothing for the lump in his pants. Gohan, however, was unaware of his hardness. He was striving to see beyond his mate writhing in pleasure on the bed, trying to think through the growing fog of arousal. Vegeta was arrogant, forceful, dominating. Yet here he was, begging the man who had once been his worst enemy, willingly submitting to him. Goku's behavior could be explained as his saiyan side coming out, which it tended to do from time to time. But Vegeta's reaction was still a mystery to Gohan. The young demi-saiyan had taken his mate only a handful of times, and even then Vegeta had been in control. The prince might be incredibly kinky now and then, but he really preferred to be in the dominant position. And Gohan, of course, had never really been comfortable taking over their lovemaking. He just felt too embarrassed. He was by far the younger, after all, and Vegeta had been his mentor so long...

But it was surprisingly intoxicating, seeing his haughty lover yield to another. The omnipresent smirk was gone from his sensuous mouth, replaced by a strange look that was at once fierce and humble. Perhaps...perhaps it was because Goku was the one person who was strong enough to master him. Perhaps something within Vegeta made him want to surrender to a power greater than his own-a power he could trust not to take advantage of his submission, not to belittle him for any seeming weakness. In any case, Gohan couldn't seem to tear his eyes away. This might be the only chance he would get to see his mate like this.

He reached down and absently stroked his throbbing erection, which was now threatening to burst the seam of his trousers. The teen's black eyes half-closed with pleasure when abruptly he realized what he was doing and tore his hand away. Yes, his lover was being incredibly sexy. Yes, it was making him horny as hell. But Vegeta was not alone, was, actually, about to get reamed by Goku. Even if he did try to ignore the brawny saiyan, the fact remained that Gohan would be masturbating while watching his father having sex with another man.

A short cry brought his eyes back to the pair before him. Vegeta was now on his hands and knees before Goku, teeth bared as he was penetrated from behind. Goku's large hands rested on the prince's hips, slowly pulling their bodies together with a moan of ecstasy. Their joining complete, he began rocking his hips in slow circles.

Gohan whimpered.

Vegeta hissed finally, though not in pain. "Kakarott, please..."

Goku chuckled, reaching forward to pull his fingers through the other's upswept hair, down his neck and across his back. Then he bent over the prince, hot tongue coming out to lick at the wounds Vegeta bore-wounds he had probably caused-soothing them though it was torture to his lover. When it seemed the diminutive saiyan was about to protest again, Goku relented and slowly pulled of his tight opening, only to plunge inside the velvety enclosure once more.

The resulting gasp of pleasure from Vegeta was echoed from the closet. Fortunately, neither of the men on the bed took any notice. The larger warrior simply repeated his action, sliding leisurely out of his lover's body before slamming back in. The saiyan prince lowered himself to his forearms, pressing backwards with his hips to meet Goku's thrusts. Swollen lips parted slightly, and too-black eyes closed. Vegeta let out a throaty purr of satisfaction. The two rocked together, establishing a rhythm which Gohan's traitorous hand sought to match.

Soon it seemed Goku had lost his willingness to tease his mate, or at least he was growing too impatient to do so. His hands tightened on the prince's hips as he began to thrust harder, faster. His lover's body obligingly molded itself around him. "So good," he gasped, tightening his grip further. Vegeta growled in agreement, clutching at the sheets as he braced himself. The tempo of their love continued to increase.

Until, surprisingly, Goku stopped, panting. The young saiyan slowly retreated, exiting his lover and resting on his heels. Despite his earlier haste, Vegeta appeared content to wait. Finally Goku ran his fingertips across his elder's arched back, bringing attention to the bloody scratches on his own. The sight was deliciously erotic. A mark of possession on the possessor. Goku's head tilted back as he breathed, eyes closed, sweat beading on his forehead. He was almost impossibly handsome in that moment. Impossibly saiyan.

Then his midnight eyes opened, clouded over with desire. He reached out to his mate and gently rolled him over. Kneeling between the prince's thighs, he kissed him. Vegeta purred softly in invitation.

"Take me, Kakarott."

Goku obeyed wordlessly.

Pleasure spread through Gohan as he watched the coupling before him. He could no longer distinguish between his own feelings of lust, the motion of his hand, and the sensations being experienced by the other two saiyans. In his aroused state, the doors to his mind were flung wide open to the love and desire coursing through his father and Vegeta. He caressed himself in time to their movements, his breathing harsh and irregular. Their pace mounted, and he imitated them.

For a few moments more, Goku's thrusts were quick but controlled as he tried to hold himself back. Vegeta, however, was having none of it. He wrapped his legs around Goku's trim waist, pulling his lover in even deeper than before. The larger man's startled gasp turned into a growl. His control slipped away, and Goku's instincts took over. Their lovemaking became something more primal, a hard and fast merging of body and soul. The hidden demi-saiyan could feel it pounding on the edge of his skull. He wanted-he needed-some of the pleasure promised by Vegeta's cries. Goku took the prince's arousal in one hand, pumping at counterpoint to his body's movements. Gohan could almost feel that hand on him. He didn't know where he was, he didn't know who he was; all he knew was that there were two strapping saiyan warriors on that bed, and he wanted to be under one of them.

A low keening sound rose up from the teen as he imagined taking the smaller man's place, imagined the taller fighter's cock plunging into him. Yes, it was perfect. That kind but masterful gaze upon him. Those full lips pressed to his. That large, firm hand around his erection. That muscular form moving above him, faster and faster, driving him to completion...

A scream ripped from Gohan's throat, at the same instant as his father cried out Vegeta's name and the prince howled with pleasure. Three bodies pulsed in tandem, three minds nearly shut down as they were overwhelmed with orgasm. Ecstasy flooded the room in waves, and the inhabitants went limp as it poured over them. Gradually the heat burned its way through their blood. Unresisting, Goku and Vegeta dropped together into a deep, satisfied sleep. Gohan was the last to recover, leaning heavily against the door to the closet. His sweat-soaked shirt clung to him, the only evidence besides his wet briefs that he'd been doing anything other than hanging clothes. Still, it was some time before he came back to himself.

Kami, he thought, still gasping for breath. I've never come so hard in my life! An incredulous grin crossed his face. And no one even had to lay a hand on me!

The grin faded. Kami, he thought again, recalling how exactly that had happened. And Gohan sank to his knees as he realized the man he'd just been lusting after was his father.