Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Peaches & Cream ❯ Chapter 4

Peaches and Cream-Chapter Four

Lying down alone in bed, exhaustion took Gohan immediately into a deep, if restless, sleep. He tossed and turned in the face of unnamed fears until nearly dawn. At last his unconscious wanderings took him into a peaceful dream, a dream where his father held him. That gentle embrace was as much a comfort as it had been in his childhood; the love and acceptance coming from Son Goku swept away, for the time being, the shame he was feeling. He drifted peacefully in this vague reverie, the scene changing often though the wonderful sensation of being loved remained constant. Sometimes Vegeta was there, watching them and smiling. Little Goten appeared several times, dancing around them. Laughing, their other friends flashed briefly into existence and were gone. But most of the time, father and son were alone in each other's arms. Gohan smiled in his sleep. He felt contented, relieved, and...what? Something else. Something sweet.

A hand brushed his face, cupped his cheek. The teen stirred slightly, leaning into the touch. The dream faded away, slipping back into the recesses of his mind as he woke.

"Hn...Daddy?" he murmured.

There was no reply, only a mental nudge from his mate. Gohan half-opened his eyes, blinking at the morning sun. Vegeta's faint smirk greeted him.

"No such luck." The prince leaned forward and kissed him soundly, leaving Gohan momentarily insensible. "I hope you slept well, brat. You're going to need your energy."

"What for?" he asked, trying to wake up. The demi-saiyan noted that, although Vegeta smelled faintly of shower gel beneath his musk, his face was slightly bruised and a cut marred one dusky cheek.

"Sparring, if you're up to it. Your father's babysitting today. He's left you all alone in my clutches." The smirk widened evilly. "Wasn't that considerate of him."

Gohan started to grin back before once again it hit him, in a rush, what had happened to him the night before. He'll hate me, they'll both hate me, oh Kami, I can't deal with this! He turned pale as a sheet and dropped his gaze. Noticing the change, Vegeta stroked his lover's cheek once more.

//Is something the matter, brat?//

I've gotta stay calm... Swallowing hard, the youth replied. //Yes. But I don't think I can talk about it right now.//

//Then we'll talk about something else,// the elder saiyan swiftly answered, trying to keep his concern from leaking through their bond. He had no idea what could be wrong-often the things that troubled Gohan made no sense to him-but he knew better than to press the issue. Never very good at reassurances, Vegeta simply changed the subject to something he was sure would cheer his sensitive mate. "So, did you enjoy your little show last night?"

This did not bring about the reaction he intended. Panic flashed across Gohan's face, and the boy's mind slammed shut. Sitting up, he stammered, "H-how did you know?"

The saiyan prince was completely taken aback by this response, as well as by the question. "You reached out to me, baka. Of course I felt you."

Soft black eyes refused to lift. "I...thought...I was so careful to touch lightly..."

Vegeta blinked. "Not to burst your bubble, brat, but you failed. You don't have that kind of control yet."

Gohan's cheeks reddened. "'Geta...I'm sorry...please don't be angry."

By now utterly bewildered but not about to show it, the older man rolled his eyes in annoyance. Damned fickle human! Vegeta tried to be sensitive, he honestly tried. But it was hard not to be irritated by people who made absolutely no sense whatsoever. What in Kami's name was the brat so upset about?! Why should he think Vegeta would be angry?! He wasn't angry at all!!!

He paused to take a calming breath. He just needed to figure out what was wrong with Gohan, and he couldn't do that if the fool boy thought he was cross. "Brat," he said finally, sounding somewhat gruff despite his attempts otherwise, "Why the hell would I be angry with you?"

"I-I'm s-sor-ry `G-geta..." And Son Gohan burst into tears.

Vegeta gaped at him for an instant, mouth reminiscent of a goldfish. Then hastily he enfolded his lover's sobbing form in his arms. "Easy, Gohan. Easy, brat. I'm not angry. Just tell me what's the matter."

"Oh, `G-geta, I d-didn't mean to! I just got c-caught up, and I could f-feel you both in my head, and I couldn't help it, I wanted him s-so badly-"

An aristocratic eyebrow raised. "What, Kakarott?"

Shamed and braced for rejection, Gohan nodded, tears tracing rivers down his ivory cheeks. "I w-wasn't th-thinking...I'm s-so s-s-sor-ry..."

A gentle hand stroked his back. So that's what he was so upset about. Foolish boy. "Gohan...I am not angry. Just calm down, my little brat. Talk to me." Gradually, the teen's mind opened up, last night's events pouring into Vegeta's mind from a different perspective. The memories were tinged with defiant longing, guilty satisfaction, and terrible shame and fear.

//What's wrong with me, `Geta? How could I feel something like that? How could I...// Even mentally, he couldn't bring himself to finish that sentence. How could I want my father...

Unfinished or no, the prince answered his question. //Well, Kakarott is a very handsome man...//

Gohan snorted in spite of himself. //You know that's not what I mean.//

Vegeta smirked slightly and pulled his young mate closer. The boy settled into his embrace, feeling relieved that no disgust or mockery was apparently forthcoming, but still ashamed and confused. "Tell me how you felt last night," the prince commanded.

"I...I did."

Exasperated, Vegeta tried again. "I know you were aroused, brat. Tell me how you felt. What were you thinking just before your instincts took over, and what were you thinking afterward?" In an effort to soothe, he began combing his fingers through Gohan's long, thick hair.

"I guess...he was dominating, but so gentle...." The youth thought some more. "Safe," he remembered. "It seemed safe...to let him...and I wanted him to...to find his pleasure in me." He blushed furiously.

"And afterward?" Vegeta prompted, continuing his pacifying motions. He resisted the urge to chuckle. Fool brat getting all worked up about something so...potentially interesting.

Gohan sighed, relaxing slightly as he recalled the peaceful dream from which he had just awakened. "I was shocked. Scared. Scared you'd both hate me. Then I had this weird dream..." He pressed it towards his lover's mind. "It didn't make a lot of sense, but it was so...I don't know."

The prince was certain now that this wasn't just a passing infatuation on Gohan's part. Still, the boy was obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation-Kami-damned human upbringing-so he let it alone for the present. "Are you hiding a pair of ovaries somewhere?" Vegeta asked instead, trying to keep a straight face despite his intentional condescension.

Gohan stopped rubbing his dark eyes long enough to blink. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about offspring. And the fact that you and I aren't likely to have any."

As expected, the teen did not follow his line of reasoning. Likewise, he was still innocent enough not to suspect that Vegeta was manipulating him. For his own good, the saiyan would have argued, but still manipulation for all of that. "Well...of course not, `Geta," Gohan replied, looking up at his love in perplexity. "We're both male."

"Why do humans consider incest to be wrong?"

Unsure why his mate had changed the subject so abruptly, and hesitant about the subject matter, the youth hesitated before softly replying. "Because...well, it just is. People aren't supposed to...become involved with their close relations."

Vegeta couldn't help but snort. "You're smarter than this, brat. Think with your degree, not your so-called morals."

"You've never had a problem keeping with my `morals' before, Vegeta," Gohan said with a frown. That gave his old mentor pause, but he continued to wait for an answer, peering stoically into the younger man's eyes. Reluctantly, Gohan considered the question as scientifically as he could. He actually felt a bit foolish when he realized what the prince was getting at. "So that genetically inherited flaws and diseases are not brought to bear in the offspring of a closely related couple," he answered, textbook-style.

"A fact that is bred into intelligent races across the galaxy, I'm sure," the other man stated, sounding not particularly sure. "And how, precisely, are you and Kakarott going to produce these flawed offspring?"

"...Oh." Gohan had suspected Vegeta was going somewhere with this. But although he supposed there was no scientific reason to be ashamed of his feelings, he couldn't just accept the idea so easily.

The prince noted the doubt written on his face and continued. "If you humans weren't such homophobes, we wouldn't be having this discussion."

Gohan's eyes widened. "You mean that saiyans had...relationships...like that? A parent and child of the same sex?"

"Infrequently," his lover replied, "but yes."

His mind raced. Vegeta wasn't angry, wasn't disgusted. He was, in fact, telling the demi-saiyan that his new attraction was perfectly acceptable. And he was hinting at something more; Gohan was sure of it. Even so...how could he ever look his father in the eyes, after last night?

//The same way you looked in mine before you caught my attention,// Vegeta replied, grinning, and Gohan realized he had relaxed the guard on his thoughts. He stared at his mate, truly shocked but intrigued in spite of himself.

//'Geta, are...are you suggesting I should actually try to seduce him?//

The grin broadened.

//Oh, Kami...he'll never go for it!//

The older man continued to grin, midnight eyes sparkling with mischief.

//What if he hates me, `Geta?//

A snort. "I doubt you could make Kakarott hate you if you tried. Now, do you want to do this or don't you?"

Gohan hesitated, then nodded.

"Good. Here's what we'll do...."

Goku plopped down onto the couch with a relieved sigh, the soft leather crinkling beneath his weight. "Damn, but I'm tired! I don't think I sat down once all day!"

Still smug from having won his spar with Gohan, Vegeta gave him an unsympathetic glance from where he sat, cross-legged, on the floor. "It's your own fault if you let those little rodents man-handle you," he commented, scribbling a grocery list in his notebook. "If you'd stop pretending you're no older than they are..."

"Sage advice from the expert on parenting, here," Gohan teased, ignoring the glare tossed his way. "Sit up, Dad." He moved behind the sofa and, when his father had complied, began gently massaging his shoulders. After a gratified moan, Goku hung his head and began purring. This result had Gohan a bit breathless, and he quickly forgot about his own still-sore muscles. Nimble fingers glided across his father's satin skin, thumbs pressing firmly into the base of Goku's neck, caressing. A slow blush rose in the demi-saiyan's cheeks. It was one thing to think about touching the man in an intimate fashion; it was quite another to actually do it. Only the thought that his father had never really gotten angry with him kept Gohan's hands steady. At least the prince wasn't staring at him.

As if he knew exactly what his mate was thinking-and probably he did-Vegeta glanced up from his listmaking to wink at the youth. Gohan swallowed. Goku, however, was too busy melting into a limp pile of saiyan goo to notice anything other than that he felt really good.

The only sounds were Goku's deep-throated rumbling and the scratching of Vegeta's pen. Gohan's hands moved regrettably from flesh to cloth as he worked his way down his father's back. The brawny saiyan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, coal-dark eyes closed in pleasure. Briefly, Gohan considered asking him to stretch out on the floor, giving him better access, but he decided that was overly forward. It was too early in the game to let Son Goku get even an inkling of his intentions. The smartest thing was to stick with the plan; things had to progress gradually, naturally.

Soon, though, Gohan conceded that a little risk couldn't hurt, as long as it wasn't construed as flirting-yet.

Flirting with my father. Kami.

He bent over the back of the couch, slipping his hands around Goku's waist to tug at his blue sash. When it was understood what he wanted, large, strong hands covered his own, untying it. Trembling slightly, skin tingling from the other man's touch, Gohan slowly pulled off both gi top and blue undershirt, setting them aside. His dark eyes traveled along the lean, muscular planes of Goku's back, followed by fingertips as Gohan resumed his gentle ministrations. He allowed his touches, like his gaze, to linger slightly, not realizing he was starting to get caught up.

Meanwhile, Goku was in a state of naive ecstasy. His son was even more skilled at this than Vegeta, and the prince of all saiyans was very good with his hands. The tension was quickly draining out of him.

Starting at the base of his spine, Gohan carefully kneaded his father's taught muscles back up to his neck. He unconsciously licked his lips as he leaned closer, hands sliding over Goku's broad shoulders and trailing a short way down his chest. The sensation like rippling steel beneath soft skin became more and more intoxicating. Gohan's tongue flicked out across his lips yet again, though his mouth had gone dry. He thought he detected some sort of delicious scent, rich and earthy with the faintest hint of spice. He inhaled deeply, savoring the mysterious aroma. Black velvet eyes narrowed; his fingers moved lower.

//Easy.//

Gohan started, drawing back slightly as he realized what he was doing. He hastily turned his somewhat sensuous strokes into a soft petting motion and forced his breathing to slow. I've got to be more careful, he chided himself. If `Geta hadn't stopped me... "Feel any better?" he asked aloud.

"Yeah, thanks, Gohan." Goku straightened up with a contented sigh. "Want me to return the favor?"

"Maybe later," the teen replied, feigning nonchalance. The thought turned his face crimson. "I need to get dinner started."

"Oh, need any help?"

"Nah, I got it. Stay here and relax; Vegeta can entertain you."

The petite saiyan harrumphed, sending Gohan scampering for the kitchen. And making damn sure his back was to the couch. In his head, Vegeta snickered.

Preparing a hasty meal of sloppy joes couldn't quite soothe his racing heart. This was just how he used to feel when he was a kid, sparring with his soon-to-be-mate. Fear of rebuff and embarrassment warred with excitement and desire. It had felt so good, being close to his father like that. He no longer held any qualms about carrying out this scheme. It might take some time, but he wanted Son Goku completely besotted with him.

His resolve held, even when he stepped back into the living room half an hour later to announce dinner. "It's ready, guys," Gohan called softly, leaning against the doorframe. He made sure to give his father a shy smile, gazing at him through long lashes. The smile was returned with enthusiasm as the man leapt to his feet, not bothering to replace his shirt. Vegeta followed with a bit more dignity, though he seemed equally eager. Taking their seats, the three helped themselves to Gohan's creations. Goku managed to detail more of his day's activities with Trunks and Goten despite cheeks stuffed with food. His son tried to listen attentively, but found his thoughts dwelling on that handsome face, so much like his own: rounded cheeks, prominent cheekbones, lean jaw and full lips...Gohan couldn't stop thinking about how those lips would feel, pressed to his...parting at his touch....

The only deterrent to keep him rational was Vegeta, who practically radiated amusement and satisfaction. Every time Gohan began staring too heatedly, a slight cough or silent rebuke from his mate brought him up short. His eyes locked on his father's shapely rear as Goku got up to put his dishes in the sink, and Vegeta told him firmly to be patient.

//You sure don't do things half-heartedly, do you, brat?//

Gohan just grinned sheepishly.

Despite everything, there were no ulterior motives behind the warm hug he gave Goku before heading to bed that night. Hormones couldn't change the fact that he loved him. Later, curled up happily in Vegeta's arms, it occurred to Gohan that he was going to have two mates to cuddle with soon. His prince must feel lucky already in that regard. Everything in their lives, it seemed, went against the norm these days, though no complaints were forthcoming. Whatever human customs said, this felt right.

"'Geta?" he asked sleepily.

"Hn."

"Tell me about you and Dad."

The prince stirred. "What do you want to know?"

"What's it like to be with him? Not sexually, just being with him, knowing he loves you."

His mate thought for a long time before replying. "He's a lot like you in that regard, actually. Trusting, affectionate. Eager to please. The difference is one of attitude. I feel protective of you, and I think he feels protective of me." He trailed off. "I used to hate that, thinking he found me weak. But the truth is, Kakarott feels responsible for everybody, whether he has any right to or not. Especially you and me."

"Is he always...dominate?" It was a risky question, but Gohan really wanted to know.

"Of course not," the prince retorted a bit defensively. "I've made him kneel at my feet, obey my every command. He's not shy like you are, but he's almost as responsive."

Gohan smiled. "And I bet you get a kick out of that."

Rather than spluttering, as he'd expected, Vegeta just grinned. "Not as big a kick as you will," he teased.

The teen's eyes widened. "I never thought...I mean, do you think he would...?"

"Let you take him? He'd love every minute of it. Your father is a very...versatile...person." He kissed Gohan softly on the forehead. "Go to sleep, brat. Tomorrow the real fun starts."

Obediently, Gohan closed his eyes and snuggled closer, feeling Vegeta draw up the covers around them. He yawned. Tomorrow he had some figurative seeds to plant. "'Geta?"

"What?"

"Love you."

His mate nuzzled him. "Love you too."

"So," Bulma clapped her hands together. "Who wants to go outside and get Vegeta and the boys?"

Gohan and Goku exchanged glances. As soon as they'd arrived at Capsule Corporation, the saiyan prince had taken off to train Goten and Trunks. It was nearly suppertime now, and the three had yet to make an appearance. Only the offer of food would keep Vegeta from going on a rampage if anyone interrupted.

Goku was the least likely to be given a tongue-lashing, and he started reluctantly to rise from the sofa. However, Gohan's hand quickly covered his.

"I'll get them, Dad." He smiled, stood, and was out the door before his father could protest. Goku sat back down with a shrug.

"He's brave," the aqua-haired woman stated, taking Gohan's place on the couch. "I have to hand it to you, Goku. I had my doubts about this whole situation, but I've never seen Gohan so happy. And Vegeta hasn't destroyed nearly as much equipment as usual this week."

The saiyan laughed. "Well, I can only speak for myself, but I've never been happier. No rules, two people to spar or have fun with, all the s-uh...food I want..." Blushing a little at his near-slip, Goku ran a hand through his hair. For her part, Bulma just shook her head in resigned amusement.

"Three saiyan males. I'm just glad I don't have to do your housekeeping."

"Bulma, dear," Mrs. Briefs poked her head into the living room. "Supper's ready!"

"Coming, Mom." She got to her feet. "Do you think we should go after them?" she asked Goku.

He shrugged. "Nah, they'll come running in any minute now." Sure enough, the door sprang open as the two little demi-saiyans barreled inside, followed more sedately by Gohan and Vegeta. The latter looked somewhat the worse for wear, and Goku gave him an I-told-you-so grin. "Have a good time, `Geta?" The prince snarled wordlessly and went to wash up.

Gohan rolled his eyes. "He's upset that he had to go level two just to beat them."

Trunks and Goten finally stopped running in circles long enough to split up and mob their respective parents.

"You shoulda seen it, Dad, we beat Uncle Vegeta good..."

"It was great, Mom. Me and Goten both turned super-saiyan..."

"And I got him right in the face..."

"And we just about got floored..."

"And Trunks snuck up behind him..."

"And knocked him right over..."

"And I..."

"And we..."

Gohan sat down on the floor giggling. Goten had crawled into their father's lap like he'd known Goku his entire life, beaming as he pantomimed the battle's climactic events. But what the teen found so funny was the fact that he wanted to do much the same thing. He shook his head. Yesterday morning he'd found these feelings shameful and terrifying; now they had practically taken over his actions. All day, he'd been experimenting with light, innocuous touches, shy looks, heated glances. It was sad.

When Vegeta finally emerged from the bathroom, still looking grumpy, Goku and the rest hastened inside. "That's great, you guys!" the big warrior was saying. "It takes a lot to get the best of Vegeta."

"I dunno, Dad, you seem pretty good at it," Gohan commented, then felt his ears burn as he realized what he'd just said. He quickly stuck his hands under the faucet.

Fortunately, if Goku found anything improprietous about that remark, he didn't show it. Instead he put a hand behind his head and laughed. "Just lucky, I guess," he replied. He let the kids take their turns at the sink, and when they had scurried out the door, he turned back to his eldest. "You're not so bad yourself," he added with a wicked grin that left Gohan gaping after him.

I can't believe he just said that! Gohan thought as he followed his sire down the hall. Maybe `Geta's plan is working better than we'd hoped.

I can't believe I just said that! Goku thought as he headed for the dining room. He may share Vegeta with me, but he's still my son! Geez, he probably thinks I'm a total pervert now. He blinked. Well, he did start it. If he meant that the way I think he did. Shrugging, Goku walked on.

Vegeta, Bulma, and Goten were already seated at the large round table. Father and son joined them eagerly, putting aside their thoughts for the moment as the smell of food reached them. Bulma's parents, with help from Trunks, brought out the meal before sitting down themselves. There was some squabbling over the seating arrangements-Goten and Trunks wanted to sit together, but they both wanted to be next to Vegeta, who, fortunately, was no longer annoyed-but at last they ended up on either side of him, with Gohan next to Trunks and Goku on Goten's other side. Thus settled, everyone helped themselves to Mrs. Briefs' cooking.

Most of the meal Gohan spent chatting with Bulma and her father about work, but he glanced often at Vegeta and Goku. The younger saiyan ate twice as much as anyone else and talked the entire time. A fond smile tugged at Gohan's lips before he turned away. As for Vegeta, he listened to both his mates in turn but spoke hardly a word. Not that this was unusual.

The gathering was a nice change for the eldest demi-saiyan, but was over much too quickly. Bulma had to return Goten to his home, and her somewhat elderly parents were beginning to tire. Dusk had fallen when Gohan and family said their goodbyes, flying out into the warm night. Surprisingly, it had been Vegeta who suggested they fly rather than letting Goku use his instant transmission. It was a beautiful autumn night, though, the moon half-full in the ever-darkening sky. Goku found himself thanking his lucky stars for what was probably the eightieth time that he'd been allowed to come back to Earth. He coasted along between his lover and son, relishing the feel of the wind rushing by, delighting in the power he felt coursing through himself and his companions. How had he ever been content with the limitations Chichi had placed on his life? He could no longer remember. Maybe it was just that he'd never explored beyond those boundaries until now, never truly opened himself to his saiyan blood. What he'd told Bulma was the truth; Goku couldn't imagine being happier than he had been this past week. It seemed he was finally getting a reward for all his sacrifice.

He looked sideways at Vegeta, the prince's ebon hair swept back by the air that streamed around them. He appeared so fierce and wild, the sort of man who belonged outside under the stars. Glancing at his son, he was surprised to find Gohan seemed much the same way. The boy-no, the man-had grown in ways Goku couldn't even begin to imagine. He regretted not being able to witness those changes more than he regretted almost anything else in his life.

Gohan met his gaze with a smile. He really had become a striking young man.

The air had cooled by the time the three arrived home, making their warm house more inviting. They entered together, content, but none of them certain what the night would bring.

The moon had begun to set before Gohan stepped, naked, from his empty bedroom. He'd pretended to go to bed hours ago, though in fact he'd spent most of the time pacing, repressing his ki. He was fairly sure that his father and lover were asleep by now.

He paused at the door to what had previously been the spare bedroom, listening. The only sounds were those of quiet breathing. Still hesitating, Gohan let out a nervous breath. It was risky, what he was about to do. Finally, he turned the knob and tiptoed inside.

Goku stirred as a hand covered his shoulder, shaking him gently.

"Daddy?"

One pitch eye opened, squinting up into the darkness. "Wha? Gohan?" he asked, voice thick with sleep. "What's wrong, son?" He blinked open the other eye, but all he could see was a silhouette against the backdrop of the window.

Sounding embarrassed, the teen answered. "Well, this is going to sound really dumb, but, I had a bad dream. It...it was really awful. Can I sleep with you and `Geta?"

Goku's face softened. "Of course." He scooted closer to the edge of the bed, making a space between himself and the still slumbering saiyan prince. Gohan sighed with relief and climbed carefully over him, sliding under the covers. Goku started to put a comforting arm around him before abruptly remembering that he and Vegeta had gone to bed nude. His cheeks reddened. He supposed it shouldn't matter; he'd bathed with Gohan when he was a child. But he wasn't exactly a little boy any longer, and of course there was the issue of their shared lover...

Half-awake and deciding he was being foolish, Goku reached for his son. The demi-saiyan yawned and snuggled close, eyes dropping shut. The soft silk of bare skin against his own brought Goku up short. Gohan wasn't wearing clothes, either! The youth apparently didn't care; one arm went about his father's waist and he pressed their bodies together rather intimately before seeming to drop into a contented sleep.

Goku didn't move, though every muscle was tensed. He couldn't believe Gohan hadn't so much as batted an eyelash-sweet, modest Gohan, who blushed at a mere look from Vegeta. But there was that comment he'd made earlier...

Realizing his face was burning, Goku tried to just shrug it off. Gohan just wanted to be close to him. It probably hadn't even occurred to him to put on clothes before coming; after all, he was safe with his father and mate. It was silly to be uncomfortable as long as Gohan was happy.

Besides, it felt nice to hold him. Pleasant, to have that slender, supple form in his embrace, those lithe, muscular legs entwined with his. Goku pulled him closer, running his hands across Gohan's back. The boy purred softly in his sleep, nuzzling him. A slow, steady heat worked its way through Goku's body in response.

Then Vegeta rolled over.

The strangeness of the situation returned to Goku en force, and he considered going to the other room to sleep. Gohan would probably rather have Vegeta's company, after all. But there was no way to disentangle himself without waking his son, and Gohan had chosen to wake him rather than the prince. Goku sighed and shrugged. As long as Gohan was happy.

It was his last thought before drifting off.