When Tulips Bloom In Winter

BY : Lil'MissWest
Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 286
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball/Z/GT/Xenoverse/Super/etc.belong to their respective owners. I own nothing except this derivative fanwork which I do not profit from.

Everything was bright lights, enticing aromas, and delightfully snow-capped.

It was going to be a White Christmas.

Son Gohan Jr. took in a deep, soothing breath; waves of euphoria coursing through him. It was his first Christmas back on his home planet after being *away for three Earth years, and he couldn’t have asked for anything more…

Walking through the silently charged festive streets on a snowy night before the eve of Christmas with his most beloved; Everything he had ever wished for -the best present in the whole universe- literally, within his grasp. Entwined in his companion’s elegant fingers, his grip tightened possessively; an action that always resulted in a warm fuzzy tingle in his core that never failed to make itself evident in his cheeks; the giddy titter escaping his chapped lips, unstoppable.

He sighed deeply. His former self hadn’t known it was possible to be this happy.

The seven foot owner of the said fingers being squeezed gave the boy a curious glance.

‘Are you feeling alright, Gohan?’

‘Uhm-hmm.’

‘What are you thinking?’

Another unstoppable giggle filters through their mental link. ‘You should know the answer to that, my love! You’re in my head right now.’

Big deep brown eyes peered up at its clear *lapis lazuli counterparts, playfully expectant; that signature winsome smile of his that rivalled the sun’s radiance all over his countenance.

His partner gamely closed his eyes and concentrated, literally trying to chase down Gohan’s thoughts in their shared consciousness; much like chasing lightning bunnies in a swirling mist.

The demi-Saiyajin watched his companion’s face closely. His endless fascination with the Earth-born Namek that took root since he was little, grew into fervent adoration, and later on as time shaped him into an adult, inevitably blossomed into so much more. His senses; all of his mind and soul endlessly enthralled by everything that was this ethereal being. Known to the rest of the world as The Demon King Piccolo Daimaoh’s spawn, but to him and only him as a dearest best friend, mentor, *guardian demon and now- his beloved other half.

So great and all-encompassing were his feelings for the Namek that he was convinced of no other explanation except that if souls could fall in love even before their human minds could rationalize and oversimplify it with words and worldly preconceptions, then his soul had long fallen. Hopelessly, irrevocably, and interminably.

Doing his very best to concentrate on walking sure and straight without bumping into anyone in the crowded street, Gohan tenaciously kept his gaze on Piccolo’s serene face; a stark contrast to his own, which was rapt with anticipation. And when a small smile formed at the corners of those plush green lips, he instinctively held his breath.

‘Piccolo-san’s hand is so warm. It’s nice…’.” Piccolo recited in his usual euphonious baritone, and Gohan had to make a conscious effort to stop himself from drooling. Then, with eyes still closed, his companion continued, “‘Ahh. Piccolo-san’s voice is just too sexy!’.

“Gaah!” Gohan jumped flabbergasted, squeezing his companion’s hand reflexively. “Don’t overdo it!”

The smile on his beloved’s face broadened, exposing some fang. “Sorry. I thought you wanted me to know what you were thinking.”

“Uhh. Yeah…” The teenager shyly dodged the Namek’s gaze; silently reprimanding the child in him that was becoming too indecently giddy. A tug at their connected hands makes him look up; and he gasps right before receiving Piccolo’s open-mouthed kiss. He squeaked when he felt some tongue and oh, Kamisama… that heated softness felt so nice against his frostbitten lips. He was blissfully getting lost in what felt like small eternities, when the mind-numbing kiss ended too soon. Gohan blinked dazedly up at Piccolo, mouth still agape and lips tingling. He let out a breath he didn’t even know he had been holding, forming steam clouds and fogging up his eyeglasses.

They had stopped walking right there in the middle of the sidewalk, not remembering to care about passers-by; trapped in each other’s visage; basking in the buzzing energy radiating from their chests. Soon enough, feet tiptoed and arms lifted, giving in to reconnecting with those heavenly lips and the maddening urge to embrace the strong neck hidden beneath layered mufflers.

‘Piccolo-san.’ Gohan whimpered inwardly, as he continued to enjoy that saccharine-sweet warmth; becoming so light-headed and completely forgetting where they were or the possible scene they could be causing. Deft green fingers eventually strip the engrossed boy of his eyeglasses which he seemed to have altogether forgotten; too intent on getting a better angle as he obdurately prodded and cradled the Namek’s sharp fangs with his tongue, precariously knocking both their eyeglasses askew in the process.

Likewise, Piccolo was hastily stripped of his own black-rimmed spectacles which he only wore upon Gohan’s insistence as part of his “Earthling disguise”. Not that aliens weren’t welcome on Earth- it’s just that Piccolo Daimaoh Jr. wasn’t just some alien, but one very famous and infamous all at once (for many conflicted reasons, some truer than the others).

“G-Gohan…!” Piccolo grunted as he was pulled down against the boy’s lips even harder, arms slinking from his nape to under his arms and around his torso to press their bodies flush against one another until there seemed to be a vacuum between them void of air or resistance. The young demi-Saiyajin getting very much enthused with the kiss that the sounds slipping from his lips began to lose all reserve; to which against Piccolo’s more rational tendencies, green lips beginning to bruise purple couldn’t help but comply with equally mounting fervour. As always, the boy’s profound effect on him dashed all of his well practiced control. ‘G-Gohan, you’re hovering off the ground!’ the still somewhat coherent part of him thought important to mention.

“Huh?” Gohan vaguely acknowledged, still very much preoccupied with the mouth he was plundering, lapsing a full minute before actually taking heed. And still, not completely relinquishing to linger some moments more, as he took it upon himself to nurse the bleeding cut and several bruises he had adorned Piccolo’s lower lip with, drunkenly licking the plainly visible puffy purplish stains upon green that was his proud handiwork.

Piccolo blinked blearily as he was finally released, cheeks dusted deep purple. He always had considerable difficulty regaining his full faculties after being attacked not so chastely.

Gohan did not miss a beat in greedily drinking in his husband’s elusive bewildered expression, sighing in appreciation as the flashing background lights seemed to conspire in highlighting his beloved’s exquisite colours all the more.

‘Kamisama… You’re so beautiful.’

Gohan ceremoniously buries himself in the crook of Piccolo’s neck to indulge in one last whiff of his mate’s sweet addicting scent; then bestows a feather-light peck to the tip of what he considered the handsomest nose in existence, before somewhat forlornly untangling himself and touching down as inconspicuously as possible; Piccolo leaning forward slightly as they replaced each other’s spectacles. Only when their fingers found each other’s and weaved together again even tighter than before did they resume walking. And though they originally planned to stroll leisurely and soak in the city’s festive mood until only a couple of hours before midnight, Gohan changed his mind.

“Let’s hurry back home as soon as we get everything we need?”

He received a mute nod, and they weaved through the crowd into selected stores to pick up some last minute items. The taller of the two simply receiving packages to carry and peering down curiously at the owner of the messy ebony mane as he went about his task; receiving some curious stares himself as he did so but being quite oblivious to it (mainly because of his intimidating height which no amount of disguising could camouflage).

Gohan picked out a simple dinner comprised of food they mutually enjoy: double mozzarella cheese pizza, a strawberries and cream chiffon cake, and red wine which he had acquired a taste for during their sojourn in *Asteroid E2. Piccolo sniffed curiously at the food, ensuing a chuckle from Gohan who knew the Namek’s equally heightened sense of smell was picking up the inviting aromas in prodigious doses, and it was the decadently frosted cake he was zeroing in on the most.

The Namek’s sweet tooth -specifically for richly frosted cakes- was a precious secret only Gohan was privy to. Piccolo had been obstinately shy about it when he first discovered it after numerous coffee shop dates, and it thrilled him to no end to have found something he could spoil his beloved on; especially now that it was his official and exclusive privilege as Piccolo’s spouse. Every chance at hounding his talented patissier-esque Z-Senshi friends to make sweets and cakes in the pretence that it was to satisfy his own cravings was not let up. And even if it eventually dragged the subject of his drastically altered eating habits more into the spotlight- watching his Namek enjoy cake made it all worth it.

By some miracle or freak of nature (depending upon whose perspective), having somehow imbibed the Namek’s scanty eating habits even before they got married- the growing youth rarely ate as much anymore, if not only during his visits to his mother and only upon her stern assertion. Even if Son Gohan had always been relatively more reserved in habits and manners compared to his Saiyajin kin when it came to food, it still caused quite a stir among his friends and family who were well-versed with normal Saiyajin eating habits. It shocked them how slender he had gotten despite his still above-average muscular build for a 6-foot and two centimetre 18 year old. But Gohan was fit as a fiddle; even unwittingly twice reaffirming the title he earned as “Strongest in the Galaxy” in the recent apocalyptic *HFIL incident, and in the even more recent Intergalactic Games on Asteroid E2. And though he didn’t seem to be getting anywhere as broad-shouldered as his late father or as burly as Goten (who had an appetite that rivalled Goku’s)- he was taking on a more modestly robust build, one that they couldn’t help associate more with Piccolo’s physique; especially in terms of height where he managed to surpass the Son household by a full three centimetres. Who’s to say all those tiptoeing for kisses and suspended upside-down crunches two thousand times twice a day didn’t slowly but surely gain him those extra centimetres? (Though Kririn tactlessly joked once during a Z-Senshi meeting that it had to be due to the copious amounts of Namek DNA he’s absorbed from too much sex with Piccolo, which was received with volatile silence. The only one who took the comment seriously enough to acknowledge it being Gohan himself.) Even so, the demi-Saiyajin’s obsession to grow even taller so he didn’t have to lean back as much just to see Piccolo’s eyes properly or hover off the ground to ambush his lips with kisses, had not diminished at all with time. Much of the opposite can be said in fact, that he even considered asking Shenron for a few more inches once- if his friends hadn’t stopped him saying it was a stupid idea, and that if he got any taller he might as well have green skin to match. Gohan’s sudden dreamy expression after the comment leaving them utterly flummoxed. (Clearly they were still far off the mark when it came to the extent of Gohan’s adoration for the Namek and all his attributes.)

Presently they stopped in front of what looked like a clothes shop and Piccolo’s eyes narrowed at his mate who only smiled back; a mischievous glint in his eyes. Gohan put his hands to Piccolo’s chest to stop him from following.

“Stay here. I’m picking up your present and I don’t want to ruin the surprise. I’ll be quick.” Adding for good measure, “And don’t read my mind!”

The Namek only raised a brow behind all the packages he was carrying. A present for me? ‘But Gohan,’ he sent telepathically as Gohan had already disappeared behind the door. ‘I have yet to get you anything.’

‘Says the one who can conjure matter out of thin air.’

‘Out of surrounding energy, to be exact.’

‘Well, whatever. It makes no difference to me. You are amazing, and you turn me on so hard. I can’t wait to get home so I can have my way with you as much as I want.’

Piccolo’s mental signal stuttered.

The demi-Saiyajin emerged shortly carrying a rectangular box which Piccolo eyed suspiciously. Something told him he didn’t even need to read his husband’s idiosyncratic mind to know what the box contained. Three years worth of unconditional intimacy covered just about everything that their pre-marriage relationship hadn’t. If it was him and his weakness for sweet fluffy desserts, this was the teen’s predilection for dressing him up in human clothes ranging from “mild-mannered” disguises (spurred by the *recent fiasco with The Golden Warrior and his Namek missus’ real identity being pried open by the public) to downright “kinky and fetishistic” costumes. Piccolo had never successfully been able to rationalize how the boy could so easily melt his barriers, but if he was already more than willing to die for him countless times over, then these little “dress-up” games could hardly be counted as a sacrifice… If his pride would not be allowed to have a say in the matter. Though when it came to Gohan, Piccolo had little to none. At this point it was useless to deny that he considered himself one lucky bastard to be the apple of the demi-Saiyajin’s eye. Being the one Gohan chose to bond with and define his happiness, out of all the eligible and more normally socially acceptable candidates for the part. He and his pride at least agreed on that.

After Gohan had eased Piccolo of half of his load, they both walked indolently to the edge of the city -enjoying the festive yet altogether tranquil atmosphere- and before they knew it, they had stepped into the border where the city ended and the forest began, walking further in until they were out of sight as customary, before charging their Ki and blasting off into the sky in the direction of their humble home.

An unimposing bungalow type circular brick house that they fashioned using organic materials and Namekian magic situated in the section of the forest within earshot of Piccolo’s favourite waterfall was their abode. Some distance behind it was a clearing littered with flowers in shades of blushing orange and diluted violet, miraculously in full bloom despite the thick snow carpets, and dancing with the playful night breeze.

“Mother will be expecting us around eleven o’clock for lunch tomorrow morning. We can head straight there, because she offered to be the one to get *Tulip-kun from Capsule Corp.”

Piccolo nodded; a flurry of fond emotions flooding his chest at the mention of their dearest daughter.

“And then we head back to Capsule Corp after lunch to help *Bloomer-san prepare for the Z-Senshi party in the evening. It’ll be great to see everyone again after so long! I got you a really nice white long sleeved shirt and black tie that’ll look stunning on you, Piccolo-san! Everything always does.” ‘Even nothing.’

Piccolo’s cheeks burned as he grit out, “Stop buying me clothes, Gohan. Why would you want to go through the trouble when you can just project the images to me, and I can create it.”

“Because…” Gohan began with a hint of admonition. “If I want something that flaunts how sexy you are, you refuse to make it!”

The erstwhile unmarried Piccolo used to be in the dark about that word… ‘sexy’. But now he had a fairly clear picture of what it meant. In fact, he had more than enough clear pictures, all of which he was made the unwitting subject of its interpretation; being the sole object of his overzealous husband’s hobby to do with secret identities and donning costumes. A lifetime of ignorance in such matters now completely wiped out after all the exposure he’d been put through (though “overexposure” would seem to be the more accurate term for it, in all senses of the word).

“It’s not my fault you’ve got so much pent-up sexy in you, Piccolo-san.”

Piccolo wrinkled his nose. “Stop calling me that.”

“Sexy, sexy, sexy, Piccolo-san is super sexy! And I’m not going to stop rubbing it in until you own up!”

Piccolo could only growl under his breath.

“Ugh. Even Piccolo-san’s growl is super sexy!”

“Alright. Now that’s just childish.”

Gohan laughed heartily. Already, Piccolo was starting to feel a growing dread for the upcoming Z-Senshi Christmas get-together the next day- and with good reason. If it wasn’t embarrassing enough when it was just the two of them, Gohan was no different when he talked about ‘his dearest Piccolo-sama’ in front of their friends. Though Gohan tried his best to keep himself in check in the presence of others outside their Z-Senshi family- their marriage seemed only to warrant more of his open declarations of love to a feverish degree.

After the *Z-Senshi press conference where they were all forced to make themselves known to the world they saved, he shocked everyone even more by calmly revealing –after relentless probing from both the press and the masses– that he was very much married, and very happily head-over-heels so. When they further hounded him for specifics– he politely requested that his personal life be respected and kept private, pointing out that surely even superheroes deserved that.

He however lost all inhibitions when Tulip was born, and was slowly even growing accustomed to the perks of his “professional life” (as he would often call it) as a celebrity superhero; never failing to talk about his husband and daughter in the highest, most loving regard. Thus even gaining the once notoriously feared Piccolo Daimaoh Jr. a fan club. Gohan was a young man and proud father now, but Piccolo still always saw the five year old Gohan in such moments; cheeks blooming roses and stars in his eyes.

Said young man was now struggling to extract the key to their front door from his jeans pocket, while trying to keep the load he was carrying balanced -a cliché that most people probably never imagined the strongest being in the galaxy had to grapple with, but as the cliché goes- the said packages teetered precariously and began to topple…! Gohan’s exclamation is cut short when the said packages suddenly float up and away from certain disaster, held steadfast in mid-air by a mild telekinetic field. A distinct click in the background told him that the door to their dwelling had become unfastened without need for the key. The awestruck teen spied a green finger as the source of the magic that endlessly captivated him, and his eyes twinkled even brighter as the said graceful finger was brought before lush green lips and was blown clear of imaginary smoke.

Everything around Gohan ceased to exist at that moment –the door as it swung open; the packages floating in a neat pile around them; and if were possible, even his need to breathe and ticking time itself– as all of his world became everything that was the bedazzling Super Namek. A steam cushioned “wow” was all that managed to escape him, before he threw himself at Piccolo and sealed those purple-tinged green lips with his own; heatedly pressing, kneading not so gently, and mutually bruising as they sucked and snagged at each other. Gohan’s arms and legs locked into a vicelike grip around as much of Piccolo’s body that it could encompass, looking for all the world like a koala clinging for dear life onto its favourite tree.

‘Your telekinesis has gotten much more powerful!’ Gohan gushed avidly into their shared link.

‘Mmm… been practicing… *E2’s unadulterated environment…’ Piccolo managed to respond to the best of his dulled articulacy at the moment; gently sliding off the teen’s spectacles and flinging it aside to float with the rest of the objects around them as an added demonstration of his heightened magical prowess.

“Show off…” Gohan breathlessly whispered as he took off Piccolo’s own “pretend” eye-glasses and angled himself to nibble on Piccolo’s ear, tongue flicking out and teasing the sensitive inner lobe with moist softness.

“Ngghh!” Piccolo’s telekinetic hold wavers a split-second as a shiver shoots up his spine. Now that they were back in the privacy of their home, Gohan clearly had a lot of bottled-up “adoration” to release. Not that he wasn’t enjoying how he was being driven blind with arousal via one of his most erogenous zones- but having to withstand the sensual torment while all of his concentration was needed to balance more than a dozen objects with an experimental higher level of psychokinesis was pushing his mental capacity to overdrive.

Helpless to the eager intrusion, Piccolo could only part his lips obligingly as Gohan returned to woo his mouth. The demi-Saiyajin’s free hand replacing his tongue to thoroughly trace the grooves of his earlobe and gradually roam farther north to massage the base of his antennae. Piccolo could only manage to flick out his tongue now and then, barely grazing those hungry demi-Saiyajin lips, whetting and tasting, but pulling back just as quickly as reticent groans and gasps are forced out from his core unbidden, altogether unintentionally depriving the youth the satisfaction of a full-blown torrid kiss. Gohan growled in frustration after some bouts of it, and clung even tighter to him in an effort to deepen the kiss.

‘Piccolo-san, you’re being a tease!’ the raven-haired boy whinged as he once again pulled the larger frame snug into his own with a force beyond human resistance. And unmistakably, evidence of his frustration was making itself known, by the rock-hardness jabbing into the Namek’s firm abdomen. It was Piccolo’s turn to growl at the sensation.

‘Piccolo-san… kiss me… onegai!’

‘G-Gohan…’

A loud ‘thunk’ followed by another, and another, reluctantly tore the couple’s attentions away from each other. Gohan hazily turns just in time to see the rest of the packages wobble in the air for a split-second before succumbing to gravity. In a flash he had caught all the important ones: the wine, the cake and the pizza, saving their Christmas dinner from disaster.

“Nice catch,” Piccolo panted shakily, barely able to maintain his posture, but still managing to telekinetically cushion the fall of the remaining packages. And lastly- gravitating Gohan’s eyeglasses to his fingers and gently replacing it on the boy’s face. The Namek’s cheeks were heavily tinted, eyes looking for all the world like an apologetic kitten’s. “I haven’t gotten the hang of it yet… It’s much harder to do when you’re err… kissing me… that hard.”

Gohan felt his arousal intensify at the rare coy display, and he could only laugh numbly; his senses still heavily intoxicated. “Oh… my bad.” Then he grinned suggestively as he pulled his husband by the sleeve inside their home with him, “That means we just need to keep practising until you can manage it then, Piccolo-san.”

 

They secured the food and packages without further incident. And while Gohan worked to light the fireplace, Piccolo prepared the utensils, glasses and plates they would be needing for their simple Christmas dinner. When he had finished setting them on the dish rack to dry (though he always cheated and used a bit of magic when it was his turn for dish-washing duty), he thoughtfully approached Gohan who was getting as impatient as he was cold, and so settled for a small Ki blast to ignite the logs, chucking the matches to one side, followed by another one of his signature sheepish titters. Gohan stood up and his eyes were immediately glued to Piccolo. Rather- to Piccolo’s apron.

It was the same apron that he had given Piccolo as an anniversary present, the simple white one with an equally stark yellow *chibi-fied fuzzy chick drawing right smack in the middle. The boy had already seen him don the apron at least a dozen times over, and yet it was amusing how he never failed to ogle. But then the boy noticed the object of his stare staring at him staring, causing him to laugh nervously. He plops down the couch and motions for Piccolo to sit beside him, patting the space beside him with an intense expression that Piccolo only recognized too well by now as sexual hunger.

Get your gorgeous Namekian ass over here, now. He could practically feel Gohan’s intense hooded eyes command his body.

Okay, Piccolo thought, this must be why we didn’t get any appetizer…

The willingly domesticated Super Namek gave in, feeling the familiar coil in his stomach tighten and heat up his body all the way to his cheeks to the tips of his antennae. He had forgotten to take off the apron before facing Gohan, forgetting the strange effect it always had on the boy.

Too late. No sooner had he seated his “gorgeous ass” on the couch was he predatorily pounced on, his head falling none-too-gently into a fluffy pile of pillows, effectively boxing him in within the demi-Saiyajin’s body as he was straddled and kissed. Lightly at first, but then Gohan sat up, discarded his eyeglasses and Piccolo once again fell under the boy’s half-lidded lust-hazed stare as nimble fingers worked to undo his plain white button-up cotton shirt. The more skin was exposed to the boys preying gaze, the more that gaze grew hooded and needy; fingers noticeably gaining urgency in its task. Intense brown orbs bore into foggy blues, never breaking the connection, not even to blink.

Piccolo thought to ask if his partner would rather he zapped off the shirt leaving only the apron- as he knew what Gohan was driving for- which was always the case. But he himself was torn between impatience and the whole thrill of the foreplay, as his own body grew even hotter watching Gohan’s breathing quicken as he reached underneath the apron to unfasten the rest of the buttons hidden from view; deliberately running lithe fingers over the textured ridges and smooth plateaus of his chest and finally managing to open up the fabric enough to give reign to heated calloused hands over exquisite Namekian skin; kneading up and down in a very stimulating manner. Piccolo’s heartbeat escalated further, each breath becoming laboured and heated as he closed his eyes to the mind-numbing sensation of Gohan’s strong touches upon him. He heard a half-growl-half-moan before that hungry mouth closed in on his gracefully long and muscular neck; wasting no time in licking, sucking, and worshipping with his lips and tongue; savouring the divine taste of his beloved’s skin. Those possessive hands and the tantalizing noises made by that eager mouth all over his skin more than sufficed to awaken his most intimate parts, bringing with it that by now all too familiar feeling of slipping control seeping into his conscious mind; giving way to his body’s more primal tendencies taking over. His hands which had been ambivalently pressing against Gohan’s shoulders but accomplishing nothing whatsoever to diminish the intensity of the boy’s onslaught, soon gave in to stroking the raven-haired boy’s nape in encouragement, the other slipping dangerously low to Gohan’s back, resting at the curve of his hip; clawed fingers involuntarily digging into flesh, stopping short of breaking skin, but inflicting just enough pain to make the boy purr in pleasure and little jolts of pain.

“Piccolo… nnggh… san!” Gohan heaved in-between kisses, breathing his love’s scent in as deeply into his soul as he could, feeling his mind reel from the addicting sweetness. ‘Piccolo-san… Piccolo-san… Piccolo-san…! I love you…’ came the boy’s thoughts loud and clear.

Hungry mouths sought each other and exchanged frenzied kisses, as Piccolo tenderly coaxed Gohan to lower his Ki by gently rubbing at his back (a prearranged signal). It was spiralling out of control as it often did when his passions where misting over his senses. Piccolo’s breath hitched; startled when he felt the boy’s Ki spike for a split second, knowing full well what that meant: Gohan’s eyes were most certainly glowing Super Saiyajin behind those closed lids; and the boy was oblivious to his transformation again, much too absorbed in their current activity.

The phenomenon used to cause Piccolo considerable alarm, because Gohan would end up continuously ascending and dispersing ridiculous amounts of Ki without even being aware of it. Until Vegeta so “graciously (and indiscreetly)” explained to them (and everyone else present there) when they had formally announced their “engagement” that it was a “Saiyajin thing”, especially to Saiyajins who had won over their ideal mate and was in the throes of passionate sex with their chosen individual. The Saiyajin prince was quick to add that even if such a thing was hardwired into Saiyajin blood, it rarely ever manifested in its extreme. Because their kind normally mated for more practical reasons, like the need to simply gratify carnal desires, or more essentially for survival and proliferation of their species. Love rarely being the case, therefore hardly ever being a requirement. In a nutshell, Saiyajins rarely ever needed or entertained the notion of falling in love, but in the rare occasion that they did- it was almost always chaotic and unstoppable. Emotions being the primary driving force behind a Saiyajin’s power; And love being the thing that often caused more destruction to the wielder than to their enemies. Previously stated case in point is primarily why it was considered foolish and dangerous, and scarcely ever condoned in the first place.

It typically required an insuperable amount of self-control to prevent a frenzied Saiyajin’s Ki from running completely amok while copulating with their lovingly chosen mate and prevent having all that energy explode in a fearsome blast. Of course, Vegeta especially savoured further expounding that, the danger can be presumed to be even more extreme, if the said Saiyajin supposedly happened to be the “Strongest in the Galaxy” (at which point, most of their Z-Senshi company paled, as opposed to the couple in question with intense blushes fast staining their faces). Certain that he could not promise to abstain from making love to his husband even at the expense of the planet, Gohan could only meekly promise everyone that they would be careful… very, very careful. While getting no solicitation from Piccolo who seemed to have lost his powers of speech; at that moment completely too nonplussed.

As they were a fairly new couple, they were still both learning to help get Gohan’s power in check whenever they did what normal madly in love married couples do. Only they were anything but normal. However after more than three Earth years of being “madly in love” and having an “above-average active sex life” without any unfortunate incidents of Ki explosions and such reported so far, it served a reaffirmation to everyone who knew them both, of the running fact that if there was anyone most qualified to get the world’s most powerful Saiyajin’s powers in check, no one was more suited to the job than the Earth-born Namek.

Before that invaluable chunk of knowledge that Vegeta had provided, Gohan did ascend almost two levels worth of Super Saiyajin the very first time they got sexually intimate, and a greater portion of all the other instances that followed. But Piccolo’s fears were easily assuaged by the fact that it was Gohan after all, and there was no one in the world he trusted more. That, and truth be told, he rather liked it when Gohan lost control. He would know more than anyone else, how much the boy relinquished his own desires to meet other’s expectations of him. Which is why he even thought it healthy if the boy actually felt free enough to totally cut lose every now and then; and was more than honoured to provide a channel for it- even if that channel had to be his own body. That day when Gohan first cleared up all doubts about his feelings for him and they had both allowed a night of intense mindless passion to overtake them, he didn’t expect to wake up from it unscathed. But to Piccolo, any amount of suffering was well worth the price to see Gohan finally do and get what he truly wanted for once.

He couldn’t deny the unimaginable pleasure that he experienced of course, but the pain unintentionally inflicted upon him then, though undoubtedly excruciating at some points -having to withstand not only the physical act of sex for the first time with one of the strongest beings in the universe who wasn’t holding back the least; but also the full brunt of Super Saiyajin energies coursing through his prone body as the boy took his virginity– was hardly anything compared to how much it hurt to think that that innocent, unselfish boy that he loved more than life itself had been holding back his true feelings for the longest time out of respect for him. Because Gohan held his feelings in the deepest and highest regard. Worrying endlessly about others was never a good thing, but Gohan couldn’t help being that way as anyone who had a good heart intrinsically was. However as a result, it wound-up the poor boy so tightly he could almost physically choke on all the pressure constantly bearing down on him since a very young age; having to grow up sooner than most, and fight never-ending horrific battles. That, coupled with his mother’s constant nagging about inconsequential matters; his father’s carefree and irresponsible disposition; and lately even the public has added to his stress with all that’s been happening with the world hell-bent on learning the true identity of The Golden Warrior. But Gohan always found comfort and quietude with him; one of the reasons he promised to never leave the boy’s side despite all the challenges that came with that decision.

 

-x-

 

“Gohan, why weren’t you afraid of me? Despite everything I did to you back then?”

“Likewise, Piccolo-san. Why were you kind to me even if you didn’t have to be? Your answer is as good as mine.”

 

-x-

 

The truth is, he has never been able to come up with an answer to the question Gohan posed as an answer to his question… It just happened and it just is. Just like that, they loved each other unconditionally. Sometimes unanswered questions were the answers in itself; an awakening. It was then that he fully realized –and dared acknowledge- how much he needed Gohan too. How much he loved Gohan beyond words; beyond everything… against all logic. Gohan was the only reason for his continued existence; his sole purpose for fighting and wanting to be strong. True, he defended the Planet Earth as a whole, but without Gohan in it, he knew there would be nothing left on Earth truly worth defending.

Even though the Z-Senshi respected his intelligence and wisdom, he never allowed himself to wallow in the idea that he was an indispensable member. But Gohan never once believed that he wasn’t. Gohan was the only one who never gave up on him even as he was *held hostage in the bowels of HFIL when any chance of rescue seemed futile and impossible without putting the entire universe in peril.

 

-x-

 

“I would never have become as strong as I am now if once upon a time a demon prince hadn’t deigned to teach a weak, snivelling, and cowardly little half-ling that real strength comes from the heart. It’s not about how strong you are… it’s about what you are fighting for.

“I’m not going to just stand here and let him die! I’m going to save him, no matter what!”

 

-x-

 

And you did, Gohan. More than you think.

 

-x-

 

“Piccolo-san! Magic off your jeans!” Gohan’s urgent plea snapped the Namek out of his nostalgia.

Though this was something they’ve done more times than he could count by now, he still found it hard to believe that it was actually happening each time it did. This heightened level of happiness they shared was literally impossible to name.  

Piccolo complied to the request with a shaky flicker of his wrist. His elegant hand was lovingly kissed before being coaxed to flatten against the youth’s perfectly sculpted chest. Gohan then slid his own palms in between seductively long and sturdy thighs, gently pressing them apart.

“G-Gohan…! I think I—” Piccolo only managed to draw in enough breath, before a strangled gasp forces the wind out of him as he felt thick calloused fingers explore his warm wetness. “Ahnnggh!”

Gohan’s eyes glowed translucent green, caught in mid-ascension, unwavering intent in them as they held Piccolo’s half-lidded and misty gaze; all the while those fingers not slowing in their movements, dipping in and coaxing more of sweet wetness to flow out. It didn’t take long for the Super Namek’s hypersensitive opening to begin to swell, and Piccolo was all too soon heaving breathless; eyes squeezed shut, unable to stay focused anymore. Gohan was too mesmerized by the erotic look on his beloved’s face to process right away what he was trying to say, but as soon as he pulled out and brought the wet digits to his mouth, sucking the sweetness with zeal, his eyes grew wild. “Your ovulating!” Gohan burst out.

Piccolo panted some moments, hot breath sending small steam clouds in the slightly chilly room, before he could gather enough sense to reply, “Y-Yes…”

“You smell and taste much sweeter when you are…” Gohan commented, thick handsome brows furrowing; fingers unconsciously seeking that tight warmth again and stimulating his husband’s inner walls. Piccolo gasped and bucked his hips involuntarily, fangs digging into his lower lip in an attempt to contain a violent whimper as those fingers hit his most sensitive inner spot in one particularly enthusiastic push. As expected, he could feel the boy’s temperature going near volcanic in the back of his reeling mind; the very symptoms of the demi-Saiyajin’s slipping control. “G-Gohan! Y-your Ki…!” Piccolo somehow managed to grit out.

Without giving any indication that he heard his love’s words, the raven-haired boy bent down to spread his thighs further apart, peeling the apron to one side to get a full view of his love’s most private parts. Piccolo turned his face the other way as he felt his cheeks burn madly, fangs drawing blood from his quivering lips, and his fingers clawing into the couch. Gohan then continued to touch and stimulate his lover there for some agonizing moments more, all the while intently watching his lover’s expression, thoroughly enjoying the feel of Piccolo’s soft hot wetness on his fingers, before he finally stops and withdraws; but as always, not letting any of his beloved’s essence go to waste- he took his time in savouring the sweet nectar dripping from three of his fingers that had been eagerly intruding on Piccolo’s searing entrance. The Namek barely had time to recover before Gohan resumed wooing that tender gushing opening, only this time with his full mouth and tongue.

“Aahhnnghh!” Piccolo arched off the couch against his own volition, but firm hands kept his hips pinned down and legs spread apart; wide enough for Gohan to get as much access as he needed, driving his lover into a frenzy of moans, whimpers, and shudders, as his tongue relentlessly pelted and irritated the nub that was the Namek’s male part, and it too began to throb and swell, and become more visible; the slightest touch enough to make Piccolo tremble and groan throatily, teetering at the precipice of delirium from sensory overload. Gohan knew that even if it was similar in shape to a human male’s penis when aroused, its sensitivity was more comparable to that of a human female’s clitoris; And he was careful to be gentle as he let his mouth travel over the beautiful pinkish-purple organ, his lips caressing it with feather-light delicateness before taking it into his mouth and sucking. Slowly but forcefully. As he did, fingers returned to the soaked blushing entrance, building a rhythm in his thrusts, until the narrow purple crevice had swollen enough to accommodate his three hefty fingers to the hilt. Gohan moaned at the sensations in his mouth and fingers… Piccolo’s soft wet heat squeezing him relentlessly; and the now aggrandised length throbbing wildly inside his mouth, making him suck all the more with a fierceness that made his own heavy arousal pulse painfully within his restricting jeans. Piccolo soon came long and hard with a stifled scream of his love’s name; the boy practically an expert at prolonging his mate’s orgasm by now, not relenting in his actions until Piccolo was spineless and limp, panting and magnificently spent beneath him. Gohan resurfaced after he had drunk every drop and licked his mate clean, savouring the sweet aftertaste of Piccolo in his tongue as he watched his partner flushed and shivering, so pretty against the deep-violet couch; Ki thrumming all over his majestic Namekian body. Gohan carelessly wiped his mouth with the back of his palm and kissed Piccolo who was still too dazed to respond. He cupped the Namek’s handsome face in his hands, lapping at the purple blood that had oozed down his chin, and sucked the cuts on his lips where sharp fangs had ripped it.

“Piccolo-san,” the boy spoke up, his voice a low rasp, still heady with sex; but by the tone of his voice and his regularizing Ki, his Super Saiyajin form had already dissolved. “I want another baby…”

Impatient, Gohan continued to shower the Namek with wooing kisses as he waited for a response. Mostly soft presses to slightly parted lips, that soon trailed off to one side to worship a sensitive pointy ear with his tongue. Piccolo grunted weakly, jolts of electricity reigniting the fire in his veins all over again.

“I would really love it if we had another baby, Piccolo-san…” More licks to his ear followed. When Piccolo remained speechless, mostly because he was still reeling from the powerful orgasm and now, the boy’s languid but tantalizing assault- the said boy sat up on his lap, looking wistful. “Tulip-kun could be lonely.”

Piccolo squeezed his eyes and took a deep breath in another attempt to un-fog his mind. And deciding that he still didn’t have the wits about him to speak, he opted for a telepathic answer, ‘If you want another child that much, then—’

“Really?!” The attractive youth’s face lit up so fast, it almost made Piccolo laugh (if he still wasn’t so drained of energy). Instantly strong arms were encircling his neck, a soft cheek pressed against his. ‘I’m so happy, Piccolo-san! Thank you!’

‘There’s really no need for thanks. Isn’t that what married couples do?’

“Yes. But I know how hard pregnancy is for you. I really wish you’d do *what you did to me in Ersatz Earth again so I could be the one to…” the words died in Gohan’s throat as his cheeks burned.

‘I’m working on it.’ Piccolo smiled, fangs and all.

“Piccolo-san! You make me so happy!” Gohan chirped, planting a chaste kiss to the tip of that perfect button nose he was so fond of. “I’ll just… take a shower, and then we can have dinner! You are so appetizing, I’m famished!”

Before Piccolo had managed to fully sit up, Gohan was already by the door to their bedroom. The Namek rubbed his nape, only then beginning to fully recover from the mind-blowing high. Then he remembered Gohan’s own need, and he immediately voiced his concern.

‘Gohan, you’re… uh. You’re still… do you need help?’

‘Oh yeah, I forgot… Bathe with me?’ came the all-too-eager reply.

Piccolo marvelled at how three Earth years worth of marriage and intimacy had not slowed their sex life one bit; Gohan’s energies when it came to lovemaking virtually inexhaustible. In many ways it was more rigorous than their actual training sessions, which would probably account for why they were both in such tiptop fighting shape. The latter he could still gain the upper hand at, but when it came to sex -something he was fairly new at- Gohan had the power to zap him of all his strength, especially when the boy’s Ki threatened to spiral out of control.

‘Piccolo-san… I can hear your thoughts.’ Gohan’s voice piped up with an obvious pout. ‘You should try being a half-Saiyajin madly in love with a Namek too sexy for his own good…’

“I don’t need to… For better or worse, I feel the same way about you.” Piccolo answered aloud, having reached the bathroom entrance, just in time to see Gohan step into the tub and wheel around to face him, completely exposed in his need.

The Namek forgot to move for a few moments, mesmerized by those crimson stained cheeks against sun-kissed light-golden skin and the stunning physique before him usually hidden by modest clothing.

‘Uhh Piccolo-san, it won’t go away if you stare at it. You’re making it worse… especially looking like that.’

‘Oh, sorry.’ Piccolo discarded the flimsy apron, leaving himself completely naked as well; very much like their telepathic link that was hardly ever closed now; their minds entirely exposed to the other in one shared consciousness. It almost felt like being fused, except with Gohan, it was unexpectedly comfortable.

His muscles still hummed from his earlier orgasms. The ghostly feeling of Gohan’s fingers moving inside him, that hungry mouth all over him, and the heated kisses; all sensations buzzing fresh in his mind, making him shiver inwardly. He took a deep breath as he closed the distance, anticipation coiling in his gut all over again. Piccolo moved in to kiss the boy first, and Gohan responded at once, mouth open and tongue all too welcoming. But this time, Piccolo’s hands moved around Gohan’s throbbing need and the boy gasped as he was made to lean against the wall, the shower spray hitting their heads, sending warm water cascading down their bodies. Piccolo was efficient, and Gohan came hard; face buried in his love’s chest, muffling his (rather loud) cry. When the convulsions had subsided, he weakly reached up to pull his partner down for another languid kiss as they slid to the tiled wet floor; their lips still swollen and busted where not so accidental bites had ravished it earlier; their blood mixing into a sugary-spicy-coppery tang. They sat there for a few minutes, Gohan’s naked body straddling Piccolo’s; letting their breathing regulate. Gohan soon sought out that sinewy flesh in the crook of Piccolo’s neck and shoulder, sucking idly until he was satisfied. When their pulses had calmed, Gohan’s voice resonated in Piccolo’s mind…

‘I want a boy this time. And I want to name him Piccolo.’

They untangled themselves and Piccolo slowly got up first, Gohan following suit, continuing their mental conversation as he helped the boy soap and scrub. Gohan doing the same for Piccolo although more on the scrubbing because he really didn’t need soap. Piccolo always smelled so good naturally, water alone did wonders to cleanse him inside-out.

‘I’m not sure he will like that name…’

Gohan turned to look at his mate, fixing him with a meaningful and somewhat hurt look. ‘Piccolo is a beautiful name!’

The Namek’s long fingers lightly brushed over the demi-Saiyajin’s forehead, sweeping aside the wet strands of soaked ebony fringe from his face, tilting his chin upward slightly, and his thumb caressing the boy’s lower lip with feather touches as he replied matter-of-factly, ‘So is Gohan.’

The boy wrinkled his nose. ‘Not nearly as wonderful as Piccolo!’

“We’re not exactly disagreeing on anything here, are we?” voiced the taller of the two.

“No… I guess not.” Gohan chuckled.

‘Why don’t we ask him when he’s conceived?’

Gohan smiled brightly. ‘My thoughts exactly.’

After rinsing under the shower spray where they felt the pressing need to kiss some more, they both stepped out of the tub. Piccolo telekinetically wrapped a towel around Gohan, and then magically dried his body off before restoring a suitable domestic garb on himself.

 

The countdown to the eve of Christmas was quietly spent outdoors, in the front garden beneath the starry night (which was warmer than it should have been, thanks to Piccolo’s magic); their modest Christmas Eve dinner quickly consumed. Gohan cuddled snugly atop Piccolo, while said Namek’s back in turn was sprawled flat on a cosy divan he conjured; both bodies further cocooned in each other’s body heat, and multiple layers of quilts and comforters.

They sleepily watched the fireworks display in the wide and distant horizon, catching sight of several shooting stars higher up the dark clouds while they were at it. Gohan remarked that it was time to wish back the moon that Piccolo had obliterated when he was a child. Piccolo responded that he wasn’t sure if that was a wise idea just yet since Gohan had recently grown back his tail *when he transformed on E2. Both of them had dozed off under the starlit sky before they could come to an agreement on the topic, dreaming a shared dream of a fuzzy Oozaru and a giant Super Namek wrestling in the barren wastelands of their childhood under a big bright full moon…

End of the first half.
Continued in the second half…



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