To Be Loved

BY : setbl
Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 430
Disclaimer: Dragon Ball Z/etc. belong to Toriyama Akira Sensei and respective owners. Monetary profit is not received for this fan fiction. As it contains adult material, read at your own discretion.

TO BE LOVED

ONE

The rain poured in torrents around them, thoroughly soaking their battle worn forms, the sky as dark as portions of each of their distinct temperaments as it thundered like the spirits within them to fight. But one remained over the other, keeping him in a stronghold and therefore from moving, peering down at him, but not at all in the condescending way the other believed: he was just truly seeing him for the first time.

“You had better kill me this time Son, or I will surely kill you,” growled a battle-fatigued but still very gruff and irate voice.

“You don’t wanna die, and you don’t really want me to die. Do you Piccolo? What fun would that leave in this world?”

“Do not presume to know what I wish, you useless over-powerful dolt. Now either kill me or release me.”

“I don’t know why people always try to keep choices between two limited poles. There is always a third choice, even if we don’t always see it at the time.”

“Son!” growled Piccolo once more, beginning to struggle harder beneath him, a little something that might have been fear tinting his voice and glinting in his eyes.

“It’s okay Piccolo. No one is here but me and you. It is okay to feel and be true to your feelings. There are many days I miss my Grandpa Gohan, so very much. After the 23rd Tenkaichi Budoukai, everyone I thought was my friend split up and went their own ways. I suppose I did too. But, I wonder some days why no comes to visit. They all know where I live in my Grandpa’s little house on Mt. Paozu. Some days it is even difficult to want to train or fight or even eat. And those are my favorite things.

“It’s okay Piccolo. I understand. Feelings can be hard sometimes. But, it is okay to have and acknowledge them. That is what makes us human.”

“I am a demon, not human, in case you’ve forgotten dumbass. Now get the hell off me Son!! I will kill you!”

Piccolo’s heart leapt into his throat, yet still somehow managed to beat like the most swiftly thundering drum the closer Gokuu’s face came to his own. Why the hell wasn’t he struggling harder?! He knew what Son Gokuu obviously had in mind was another way the most vile and cowardly humans liked to denigrate and dehumanize each other. He’d be damned if he’d allow it to happen. And he would kill him painfully for even thinking it.

Before Gokuu’s face could come any closer, he shot a very burning laser-like beam of ki directly into his mouth from his own, making Gokuu jerk up and off him holding his mouth as it smoked.

“MAT mus muncalled for!” mumble-yelled Gokuu, wagging his hand like a fan trying to cool off his smoldering tongue and lips.     

Piccolo immediately jumped up and glared at Gokuu hard and with as much venom and disgust as possible. But as he continued to watch the obnoxious childlike battle junkie bounce around comically as he continued to try and ease the pain of his throbbing mouth, something quaint and unfamiliar tickled his gut. But he refused to let the rare honest laughter reach his throat.

Instead he rushed and punched Gokuu hard in the gut, making him gasp. “Next time you die Son. And if you ever try that again, I will break every bone in your body and then hang you up somewhere the vultures will be delighted to partake of your flesh, piece by pathetic piece.”

In the next instant, Piccolo vanished from sight; leaving Gokuu to sigh heavily alone a long moment before he flew forlornly home, his tail hanging as limply as his spirit.


Piccolo continued to observe Gokuu unseen as he had been for months after the humiliating 23rd Tenkaichi Budoukai. The lone spikey-haired warrior was pathetic, his routine always the same. He would train for many hours in the early morning. Then catch himself something to eat off the mountain. After breakfast, he would train some more until the sun was mid-sky. Then he’d catch, roast and eat some other beast disgustingly in its entirety except the bones. And the day would go on like that with Gokuu having one last meal before finally washing and going to bed.

But something was different this time. Something was wrong. He did not seem to have the same pep he usually had. And as the midday sun beamed, he did not seem like he would be going to hunt for lunch anytime soon. No, he sat on a boulder and sighed deeply while holding his chin in his hands and looking out at nothing in particular. It was very un-Son-like, and Piccolo did not like it. What hell did that baka have to be depressed about? He was currently the strongest being on the planet, and was able to live his life however the hell he wished. What the hell did he have to be down about? How dare he?!

Unable to take it anymore, Piccolo finally let his presence be known, flying out to him. “What the hell are you doing Son?!” he demanded, thoroughly irate.

“Oh, hi Piccolo. Did you want something?” Gokuu uttered dejectedly, not really looking at him, making bile rise to Piccolo’s throat.

Piccolo’s eyes widened incredulously, before narrowing dangerously. The next moment, he busted Gokuu hard in the face, knocking him meters into the dirt, taking a solid battle stance as he stared down at Gokuu.

Gokuu got up slowly, not even bothering to dust himself off. But Piccolo could feel the change in the air as Gokuu’s demeanor shifted. Gokuu walked strongly to him and stood firmly before him.

“Well, are you going to keep your promise Piccolo? You said the next time you’d kill me. Go ahead. I won’t fight ya. You can just do it, and I won’t bother you anymore.”

Anger and anguish thickened in Piccolo’s throat like the most viscous slime mixture, making him swallow. His arms dropped forlornly to his sides. Pain he did not wish to acknowledge packed his chest. And rough pressure built behind his eyes. What the hell was Gokuu saying? He was just going to give up, after all they both trained for?! What the hell?!!

“I don’t know why I’m here Piccolo. There doesn’t seem to be a real necessary reason for me to have been born…”

“Dammit Son… I… How dare you show weakness to an enemy! Pull yourself together this instant!!” demanded Piccolo excitedly, grasping Gokuu’s shoulders and shaking him quite roughly.

“So, you’re not gonna keep your promise, Piccolo? I thought you’d be happy with me gone. That way you can rule the world however you wish.”

“Dammit Son…” Piccolo deflated then. He didn’t know what to say. But seeing Gokuu like this hurt far more than his ego. Feeling many more things than he wished to and liking none of them, Piccolo quickly flew away.

Once he was sure Piccolo was gone, tears pooled and streamed from Gokuu’s eyes copiously, dropping to his knees, his face going into his hands. He had never felt this terrible before in his life, not even after losing his Grandpa, so he didn’t understand why it hurt so badly. But he couldn’t help it, it did hurt, so very badly, and he was weary of it all.


Another few weeks had passed before Piccolo decided to check on Gokuu. And when he got there, he couldn’t believe what he saw. Gokuu was passed out just before the little house he lived in, face in the dirt. What the hell!!

Quickly rushing to and gingerly lifting his form up, Piccolo cringed at how light Gokuu felt, how ghastly pale he looked, carefully placing his emaciated body in the unkempt futon.

His eyes burned as he got a better look at Gokuu. He looked far too frail and helpless—nothing like the amazing warrior he’d yearned to thoroughly defeat in battle. What the hell was wrong with him?!

It didn’t matter. When Gokuu died it would be because he’d beaten him in a real fight. No way would he let him go out like this. Forget it.


When next Gokuu woke, amazing scents wafted under his nose and made his tail curl. But he could not believe what he was seeing when he finally opened his eyes, them widening comically.

“It’s about time you woke up, you lazy lout. You’ve really let yourself and this place go. Not a respectable thing for a true warrior to do,” chastised Piccolo from the stove he kept working at, not turning around to see Gokuu’s look of sheer surprise. “I have cleaned up and this stew should be done soon, so go wash up.”

Gokuu wasn’t sure if he was dreaming, so just got up and went to wash in the river. He was very tired and weak, but something inside didn’t hurt as much anymore, so he did as he was asked or rather told.

Piccolo let out the breath he’d been holding. If Gokuu had enough vitality left to wash up, he wasn’t too late. And he went about doing the finally touches on the meal.


Gokuu looked down at his tray full of a large bowl of hearty stew and homemade bread like it was the most fascinating thing, but he did not begin eating.

Piccolo actually felt insulted.

“If I wanted you dead, you would be Son… I’m not so incompetent that I can’t do a little thing like cooking. Now eat!”

Gokuu sighed audibly and looked up to Piccolo with a somber but serious expression.

“It’s not that. I just don’t understand why you’re doing this. You hate me don’t ya? Wouldn’t it have made more sense to let me finish dying?”

Piccolo’s face faltered some then, frowning before scowling.

“Dammit Son! I do not want you dead anymore. Now, don’t ask any more questions and eat!”

Gokuu looked back down at the food, then back at Piccolo and repeated that a few times. It was the longest food had stayed before him without being devoured. “Would… Would you eat with me? Please?”

Piccolo’s jaw almost dropped. Almost.

“I do not eat Son. Just get going. I know you’re literally hungry, actually starving. Now eat!”

Gokuu just looked down and sighed wistfully.

“Fine, I’ll eat with you. But only this once. Damn you.”

The soft smile Gokuu gave him then made Piccolo’s gut feel funny, but he shook it off and quickly made himself a tray of food before sitting at the other side of the small round worn wooden table; having to materialize a chair large enough for himself so he could sit.

Gokuu watched him with those amazingly dark large eyes, waiting with incredible patience and attention.

Piccolo scoffed and rolled his eyes before picking up his own spoon and taking a bite, looking at Goku hard as he chewed.

Gokuu smiled lightly in thanks, picking up his spoon and beginning to slowly spoon the stew, it seeming to be difficult for him to bring it to his mouth, but he did. Piccolo had an inner debate with himself on whether to help him or not, but a huge part of him drew the line at feeding the lout. He was not going to spoon feed him too like some infant. So the torturous seeming meal went on for far longer than it normally would have, it taking a full half hour for Gokuu finish one bowl of meaty vegetable stew, a small cut of bread and a cup of herbal tea.

Piccolo was going to gripe at him to eat another bowl but thought better of it. Gokuu obviously had not eaten in a while and his system needed to get used to having food in it again. Plus Gokuu looked incredibly tired and frail as he drooped at the table, something in Piccolo aching to help him but still sternly holding back.

“Go lay down Son. I’ll clean up.”

Awareness slowly dawned on Gokuu’s face, morphing to horror, making Piccolo frown and his brows rise in question.

“What now? You need to rest Son, until your body has digested enough food for you to be vital again.”

“I don’t wanna have any more nightmares!” pitifully exclaimed Gokuu with wide fearful eyes. “I killed him! I killed him! I don’t deserve to live…” cried Gokuu pitifully, beginning to weep into his emaciated hands on the table, making Piccolo’s stomach horribly twist.

Having caught Gokuu’s flurry of agitated thoughts in his current unhealthy state, which he never would have allowed to be read before if healthy, Piccolo stood up and went to Gokuu then; picking him up and holding him like a small child, still cringing at how light he felt. “I am not leaving Son; that promise I shall keep. And it wasn’t your fault Son; you were just a small child and did not yet know how to properly control your primal side. It’s okay. And isn’t your Grandpa living it up in Other World, for lack of a better phrase?”

Gokuu’s eyes widened, them gazing at Piccolo with an indescribable expression before he buried his face in Piccolo’s gi top and continued to purge his soul with necessary tears.

Piccolo held him close then, far too close to not kill him if they were enemies. Why was he allowing this? Why did he wish he could take all Gokuu’s pain away, even if it would become his own, if only to see him smiling freely once more? Damn him for making him realize his true evolving feelings.

“You need to sleep now Son,” urged Piccolo, beginning to carry him the few steps to his pitiful little bed.

Not possessing the energy to fight it, Son uncharacteristically clung to him; burrowing into his large heavy clothes and wrapping his tail around him. He obviously did not possess even a fraction of the strength necessary to actually keep Piccolo there, but for once Piccolo did not feel the need to slap or berate him, wrapping the tattered blankets over the both of them, keeping vigil over him like some strange large guardian demon.  


“Oh geez Son! Go to the bathroom!” griped Piccolo after a particularly nasty-smelling blast of flatulence hit his nostrils unforgivingly in the middle of the night.

“Sorry Piccolo, it’s been a while since I had food, especially as good as you made it. I’ll have to go outside. There are no modern conveniences in here like Bulma’s places have. Well, ya know that, I guess,” finished Son sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head in that way he used to, trying to bring himself to stand. Though he felt somewhat better, he had a ways more to go before fully recovering, and did shakily fall back into the bed.

“Son… Omae…”

Gokuu did flush, feeling very embarrassed. He was grown after all and possibly needed help to use the restroom due to weakness from starving himself and not sleeping for so long. He couldn’t be more embarrassed if he tried.

Utilizing all the strength and will he could muster, he finally stood once more and walked slowly, carefully outside to the deeply dug little grey outhouse. Once in the tiny space, that was more like a small compartment than a room or building, he hovered over the outdoor toilet as long as he could without passing out, but nothing more released except gas. And after washing up once more nearby, he slowly walked back to his little house and Piccolo.

He could not believe Piccolo had done so much for him, and actually stayed and lain with him. Did that mean they were friends now? Something more? Thinking made him more tired, so he just decided to keep walking. Piccolo stood tall at the doorway, arms folded, looking as fierce and foreboding as he usually did. But Gokuu could not help but smile at him, it widening when Piccolo’s ears flicked closer to his skull and his arms dropped.

“Miss me?” dared Gokuu, somewhat jokingly in a pale attempt to lighten the mood.

“Don’t push it Son. I could still easily kill you.”

“Hm.”

Nothing more was spoken as they went back inside and laid back down. Eventually both succumbed to deep slumber.


Days had passed with odd ease, and though Gokuu still appeared too bony to be his usual self, Piccolo was relieved to see some color back in his cheeks and a bit more vim in his movements. Perhaps they could even begin training soon.

“Piccolo… Would you take a bath with me? It’s been a while since I’ve had a hot one. And I know you’ve been patient until I could do it myself. But, I smell pretty awful. Don’t I?”

Piccolo quickly looked away.

“I’ll fix you a bath, but you have to bath yourself, alone. You only call for me once you’re through. Understand?”

“But why? You’ve seen me naked many times now. What’s wrong now?”

“Do you want a bath or don’t you?”

Gokuu sighed heavily before nodding in the affirmative.

After washing outside of it, once he was sitting in the large soothing bin of water with a fire underneath, a ways from the house; Gokuu just soaked for a while with his eyes closed; attempting to not think of anything. He knew Piccolo was still keeping watch of him not too far away, and thought he was being silly, but he kept quiet. He needed this soak for his sore and wearied body and mind. Hopefully he would be strong enough soon to start training again. He did miss it dearly.


When he finally went back inside that night, after dressing in the clean clothes Piccolo had left for him, Gokuu’s eyes widened; he might have screamed if he wasn’t so shocked.

“What have you done?!”

“Everything in here was dilapidated and dirty. I have used my materialization to renew everything, including the building. This place was literally falling apart. You should be grateful,” growled Piccolo meanly, not at all liking Gokuu’s tone.

“But, his scent is gone now,” lamented Gokuu.

“Grow up Son. Do you think how you’ve been behaving lately would make your Grandpa proud?”

Gokuu bit his lip and turned away, curling up in his now fresh futon and beginning to shake as he muffled his cries in the blankets.

Dammit Son. What happened to the you who couldn’t be budged? The you I…

Piccolo sighed to himself, pulled off his cape and turban and delicately placed them down so the weight of them would not damage the tiny house. Then he gingerly lay down next to Gokuu, looking as ridiculous as the first time he’d laid on the futon which obviously did not fit his stature, and he squeezed Gokuu’s arm ever so gently.

“As long as you remember him, he’ll live on in your heart Son,” he offered softly, still beside himself that he yearned so immensely to ease Gokuu’s suffering. 

Gokuu pulled his head out of the covers and gazed at Piccolo with those large warm dark unassuming childlike eyes, imploring so much without words. And Piccolo could not fully resist the urge he had had many times but did not wish to admit, moving closer and pressing his lips to Gokuu’s, pulling him close and holding him in genuine intimacy a few tender moments, wishing he could somehow squeeze his anguish away without hurting him. He was surprised when Gokuu suddenly had him on his back and began kissing him earnestly in turn; his cheeks, his lips, his neck and further down his carved form with each ardent osculation and imploring caress.

It was hot and warm and wet and a mess Piccolo would have never believed he wanted any part of was it not happening, but he did. Gokuu must have been more recovered than he looked, because he easily tore his clothes away. And after undressing himself, getting up and grabbing some cooking oil from the kitchen, Gokuu began doing the most erotic thing Piccolo had ever seen—preparing himself passionately, beginning to rock on his own lube-glistening fingers and moan while he played with his rigid sprung to life member, with his eyes closed and plump lips immaculately open in the perfect pout.

Piccolo swallowed thickly as he watched with much more than mere fascination. He had never witnessed Gokuu perform such uncharacteristic behavior before, had never known him to be such a way. But the more he watched the less still he could stay; finally pinning Gokuu beneath him, lifting his hips and bringing them closer to his own.

“Are you sure Son? I’ll hear no complaints later.”

“I’m sure Piccolo. I want you, inside me, with me.” 

Piccolo shivered in a way he never had before, moving to kiss Gokuu hard before either of them could change their minds. Once the tip of his throbbing pine hued member touched Gokuu’s lubricated entrance, both quieted and stilled, neither even breathing until he finally pressed in to the hilt, making them each gasp.

It was slow and a little painful at first, but both began to rock a bit harder toward the other; moving faster and with more passion once they were both adjusted. It was unlike anything Piccolo had ever known, and he wondered then why he’d been so against it.

They moved and groaned and rode each other hard after a while; something immaculate building up within each of them, ready to crash with a thunderous fury in the most incredible undulating waves. And they each called the other’s name without thinking; riding harder and holding tighter to the other enough to bruise.

Then the madness was suddenly over, leaving them wet and sticky in a limp hypersensitive breathing heap for long moments. And Piccolo knew then why he’d been avoiding it: the chemistry between them was uncanny, whether sheer attraction or for war. But that ruined everything. And now things would never be the same between them again. For, every time he saw him, he would no longer be able to lie to himself about what he felt, would never be able to forget what it felt like to be with him.

“I love you Piccolo,” whispered Gokuu honestly before succumbing to slumber in Piccolo’s arms.

Piccolo did not answer. He only held him tighter, wishing the morning did not have to come.


Piccolo had lost count of the days that had passed, but surely it had been weeks since he’d come to stay at Gokuu’s house. He never would have imagined that he would not only get used to, but enjoy the presence of the other always around. His scent. His bubbly mannerisms. His annoying habits and idiosyncrasies. His honest meanderings and sharp deductions, that he never would have believed if not witnessing them firsthand. The way he made love with him like he wasn’t the most hideous demon or a mere body to use, but a wonderful and real beautiful partner, a genuine part of his heart. But most of all, his laughter and the way his genuine face-splitting eye-squinting smiles always seemed to light up not only his eyes but the entire room, perhaps the entire mountain. Nothing tickled Piccolo’s ears or touched the heart he did not wish to claim as his own more than Gokuu’s laughter. It rippled on the wind and permeated throughout Piccolo’s soul. And he knew one thing for certain: since he had chosen not to kill him when he had the chance, he would never be able to now. Not because he wasn’t strong enough—he could train to be as great as he wished, always pushing beyond his limits and on—but because he no longer possessed the craven ignorant pure hatred-tainted will necessary to do so. He would probably give up his own life before allowing Gokuu’s to be lost now, and that did not settle well with that heavy dim part of himself that was still anything but light.

Gokuu was healthy again. It was time to leave. Perhaps he would never kill him. But he could not stay either.

With one last look at the extraordinary warrior, who had been his roommate in oddest but somehow best ways for a time Piccolo had lost count of, Piccolo used his telekinesis to very carefully ease out of the little cream, navy and brass hued house with the red door without waking the man he no longer loathed. Though not a tear fell, Piccolo’s eyes did burn as he determinedly flew out of his life for good.

Tears slid from Gokuu’s eyes and he did toss forlornly in the bed they had shared many a night, now alone. But he did not attempt to follow Piccolo; biting his lip and striving to find the contented slumber he only could with Piccolo lying beside him.

Until The Next…

Thanks for reading mina-san. Things have been stagnant in my life, but I am finally learning to heal myself and get on track. I am going to do my best to finish as many stories as I can this year. This one began because I want a new take on the DBZ Universe without fully relinquishing what DBZ set. I think DB Chou has done enough damage rewriting and rushing plot. With the name Chou, I was hoping for much better, but those are the breaks. One must realize it is a shounen manga/anime and thus there are not only cultural and stereotypical limitations but age and therefore story limitations. While totally irksome at many times in its development, Dragon Ball is still the greatest manga/anime franchise in all of manga or anime to me, so I’ll keep writing, hopefully finishing this and other stories this year.

Thank you very much for all who have supported me and who have done their best to make this world a better place. Words aren’t enough to thank those souls who are truly courageous and decent worthwhile souls, but thank you.

TO BE LOVED

ONE

The rain poured in torrents around them, thoroughly soaking their battle worn forms, the sky as dark as portions of each of their distinct temperaments as it thundered like the spirits within them to fight. But one remained over the other, keeping him in a stronghold and therefore from moving, peering down at him, but not at all in the condescending way the other believed: he was just truly seeing him for the first time.

“You had better kill me this time Son, or I will surely kill you,” growled a battle-fatigued but still very gruff and irate voice.

“You don’t wanna die, and you don’t really want me to die. Do you Piccolo? What fun would that leave in this world?”

“Do not presume to know what I wish, you useless over-powerful dolt. Now either kill me or release me.”

“I don’t know why people always try to keep choices between two limited poles. There is always a third choice, even if we don’t always see it at the time.”

“Son!” growled Piccolo once more, beginning to struggle harder beneath him, a little something that might have been fear tinting his voice and glinting in his eyes.

“It’s okay Piccolo. No one is here but me and you. It is okay to feel and be true to your feelings. There are many days I miss my Grandpa Gohan, so very much. After the 23rd Tenkaichi Budoukai, everyone I thought was my friend split up and went their own ways. I suppose I did too. But, I wonder some days why no comes to visit. They all know where I live in my Grandpa’s little house on Mt. Paozu. Some days it is even difficult to want to train or fight or even eat. And those are my favorite things.

“It’s okay Piccolo. I understand. Feelings can be hard sometimes. But, it is okay to have and acknowledge them. That is what makes us human.”

“I am a demon, not human, in case you’ve forgotten dumbass. Now get the hell off me Son!! I will kill you!”

Piccolo’s heart leapt into his throat, yet still somehow managed to beat like the most swiftly thundering drum the closer Gokuu’s face came to his own. Why the hell wasn’t he struggling harder?! He knew what Son Gokuu obviously had in mind was another way the most vile and cowardly humans liked to denigrate and dehumanize each other. He’d be damned if he’d allow it to happen. And he would kill him painfully for even thinking it.

Before Gokuu’s face could come any closer, he shot a very burning laser-like beam of ki directly into his mouth from his own, making Gokuu jerk up and off him holding his mouth as it smoked.

“MAT mus muncalled for!” mumble-yelled Gokuu, wagging his hand like a fan trying to cool off his smoldering tongue and lips.     

Piccolo immediately jumped up and glared at Gokuu hard and with as much venom and disgust as possible. But as he continued to watch the obnoxious childlike battle junkie bounce around comically as he continued to try and ease the pain of his throbbing mouth, something quaint and unfamiliar tickled his gut. But he refused to let the rare honest laughter reach his throat.

Instead he rushed and punched Gokuu hard in the gut, making him gasp. “Next time you die Son. And if you ever try that again, I will break every bone in your body and then hang you up somewhere the vultures will be delighted to partake of your flesh, piece by pathetic piece.”

In the next instant, Piccolo vanished from sight; leaving Gokuu to sigh heavily alone a long moment before he flew forlornly home, his tail hanging as limply as his spirit.


Piccolo continued to observe Gokuu unseen as he had been for months after the humiliating 23rd Tenkaichi Budoukai. The lone spikey-haired warrior was pathetic, his routine always the same. He would train for many hours in the early morning. Then catch himself something to eat off the mountain. After breakfast, he would train some more until the sun was mid-sky. Then he’d catch, roast and eat some other beast disgustingly in its entirety except the bones. And the day would go on like that with Gokuu having one last meal before finally washing and going to bed.

But something was different this time. Something was wrong. He did not seem to have the same pep he usually had. And as the midday sun beamed, he did not seem like he would be going to hunt for lunch anytime soon. No, he sat on a boulder and sighed deeply while holding his chin in his hands and looking out at nothing in particular. It was very un-Son-like, and Piccolo did not like it. What hell did that baka have to be depressed about? He was currently the strongest being on the planet, and was able to live his life however the hell he wished. What the hell did he have to be down about? How dare he?!

Unable to take it anymore, Piccolo finally let his presence be known, flying out to him. “What the hell are you doing Son?!” he demanded, thoroughly irate.

“Oh, hi Piccolo. Did you want something?” Gokuu uttered dejectedly, not really looking at him, making bile rise to Piccolo’s throat.

Piccolo’s eyes widened incredulously, before narrowing dangerously. The next moment, he busted Gokuu hard in the face, knocking him meters into the dirt, taking a solid battle stance as he stared down at Gokuu.

Gokuu got up slowly, not even bothering to dust himself off. But Piccolo could feel the change in the air as Gokuu’s demeanor shifted. Gokuu walked strongly to him and stood firmly before him.

“Well, are you going to keep your promise Piccolo? You said the next time you’d kill me. Go ahead. I won’t fight ya. You can just do it, and I won’t bother you anymore.”

Anger and anguish thickened in Piccolo’s throat like the most viscous slime mixture, making him swallow. His arms dropped forlornly to his sides. Pain he did not wish to acknowledge packed his chest. And rough pressure built behind his eyes. What the hell was Gokuu saying? He was just going to give up, after all they both trained for?! What the hell?!!

“I don’t know why I’m here Piccolo. There doesn’t seem to be a real necessary reason for me to have been born…”

“Dammit Son… I… How dare you show weakness to an enemy! Pull yourself together this instant!!” demanded Piccolo excitedly, grasping Gokuu’s shoulders and shaking him quite roughly.

“So, you’re not gonna keep your promise, Piccolo? I thought you’d be happy with me gone. That way you can rule the world however you wish.”

“Dammit Son…” Piccolo deflated then. He didn’t know what to say. But seeing Gokuu like this hurt far more than his ego. Feeling many more things than he wished to and liking none of them, Piccolo quickly flew away.

Once he was sure Piccolo was gone, tears pooled and streamed from Gokuu’s eyes copiously, dropping to his knees, his face going into his hands. He had never felt this terrible before in his life, not even after losing his Grandpa, so he didn’t understand why it hurt so badly. But he couldn’t help it, it did hurt, so very badly, and he was weary of it all.


Another few weeks had passed before Piccolo decided to check on Gokuu. And when he got there, he couldn’t believe what he saw. Gokuu was passed out just before the little house he lived in, face in the dirt. What the hell!!

Quickly rushing to and gingerly lifting his form up, Piccolo cringed at how light Gokuu felt, how ghastly pale he looked, carefully placing his emaciated body in the unkempt futon.

His eyes burned as he got a better look at Gokuu. He looked far too frail and helpless—nothing like the amazing warrior he’d yearned to thoroughly defeat in battle. What the hell was wrong with him?!

It didn’t matter. When Gokuu died it would be because he’d beaten him in a real fight. No way would he let him go out like this. Forget it.


When next Gokuu woke, amazing scents wafted under his nose and made his tail curl. But he could not believe what he was seeing when he finally opened his eyes, them widening comically.

“It’s about time you woke up, you lazy lout. You’ve really let yourself and this place go. Not a respectable thing for a true warrior to do,” chastised Piccolo from the stove he kept working at, not turning around to see Gokuu’s look of sheer surprise. “I have cleaned up and this stew should be done soon, so go wash up.”

Gokuu wasn’t sure if he was dreaming, so just got up and went to wash in the river. He was very tired and weak, but something inside didn’t hurt as much anymore, so he did as he was asked or rather told.

Piccolo let out the breath he’d been holding. If Gokuu had enough vitality left to wash up, he wasn’t too late. And he went about doing the finally touches on the meal.


Gokuu looked down at his tray full of a large bowl of hearty stew and homemade bread like it was the most fascinating thing, but he did not begin eating.

Piccolo actually felt insulted.

“If I wanted you dead, you would be Son… I’m not so incompetent that I can’t do a little thing like cooking. Now eat!”

Gokuu sighed audibly and looked up to Piccolo with a somber but serious expression.

“It’s not that. I just don’t understand why you’re doing this. You hate me don’t ya? Wouldn’t it have made more sense to let me finish dying?”

Piccolo’s face faltered some then, frowning before scowling.

“Dammit Son! I do not want you dead anymore. Now, don’t ask any more questions and eat!”

Gokuu looked back down at the food, then back at Piccolo and repeated that a few times. It was the longest food had stayed before him without being devoured. “Would… Would you eat with me? Please?”

Piccolo’s jaw almost dropped. Almost.

“I do not eat Son. Just get going. I know you’re literally hungry, actually starving. Now eat!”

Gokuu just looked down and sighed wistfully.

“Fine, I’ll eat with you. But only this once. Damn you.”

The soft smile Gokuu gave him then made Piccolo’s gut feel funny, but he shook it off and quickly made himself a tray of food before sitting at the other side of the small round worn wooden table; having to materialize a chair large enough for himself so he could sit.

Gokuu watched him with those amazingly dark large eyes, waiting with incredible patience and attention.

Piccolo scoffed and rolled his eyes before picking up his own spoon and taking a bite, looking at Goku hard as he chewed.

Gokuu smiled lightly in thanks, picking up his spoon and beginning to slowly spoon the stew, it seeming to be difficult for him to bring it to his mouth, but he did. Piccolo had an inner debate with himself on whether to help him or not, but a huge part of him drew the line at feeding the lout. He was not going to spoon feed him too like some infant. So the torturous seeming meal went on for far longer than it normally would have, it taking a full half hour for Gokuu finish one bowl of meaty vegetable stew, a small cut of bread and a cup of herbal tea.

Piccolo was going to gripe at him to eat another bowl but thought better of it. Gokuu obviously had not eaten in a while and his system needed to get used to having food in it again. Plus Gokuu looked incredibly tired and frail as he drooped at the table, something in Piccolo aching to help him but still sternly holding back.

“Go lay down Son. I’ll clean up.”

Awareness slowly dawned on Gokuu’s face, morphing to horror, making Piccolo frown and his brows rise in question.

“What now? You need to rest Son, until your body has digested enough food for you to be vital again.”

“I don’t wanna have any more nightmares!” pitifully exclaimed Gokuu with wide fearful eyes. “I killed him! I killed him! I don’t deserve to live…” cried Gokuu pitifully, beginning to weep into his emaciated hands on the table, making Piccolo’s stomach horribly twist.

Having caught Gokuu’s flurry of agitated thoughts in his current unhealthy state, which he never would have allowed to be read before if healthy, Piccolo stood up and went to Gokuu then; picking him up and holding him like a small child, still cringing at how light he felt. “I am not leaving Son; that promise I shall keep. And it wasn’t your fault Son; you were just a small child and did not yet know how to properly control your primal side. It’s okay. And isn’t your Grandpa living it up in Other World, for lack of a better phrase?”

Gokuu’s eyes widened, them gazing at Piccolo with an indescribable expression before he buried his face in Piccolo’s gi top and continued to purge his soul with necessary tears.

Piccolo held him close then, far too close to not kill him if they were enemies. Why was he allowing this? Why did he wish he could take all Gokuu’s pain away, even if it would become his own, if only to see him smiling freely once more? Damn him for making him realize his true evolving feelings.

“You need to sleep now Son,” urged Piccolo, beginning to carry him the few steps to his pitiful little bed.

Not possessing the energy to fight it, Son uncharacteristically clung to him; burrowing into his large heavy clothes and wrapping his tail around him. He obviously did not possess even a fraction of the strength necessary to actually keep Piccolo there, but for once Piccolo did not feel the need to slap or berate him, wrapping the tattered blankets over the both of them, keeping vigil over him like some strange large guardian demon.  


“Oh geez Son! Go to the bathroom!” griped Piccolo after a particularly nasty-smelling blast of flatulence hit his nostrils unforgivingly in the middle of the night.

“Sorry Piccolo, it’s been a while since I had food, especially as good as you made it. I’ll have to go outside. There are no modern conveniences in here like Bulma’s places have. Well, ya know that, I guess,” finished Son sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head in that way he used to, trying to bring himself to stand. Though he felt somewhat better, he had a ways more to go before fully recovering, and did shakily fall back into the bed.

“Son… Omae…”

Gokuu did flush, feeling very embarrassed. He was grown after all and possibly needed help to use the restroom due to weakness from starving himself and not sleeping for so long. He couldn’t be more embarrassed if he tried.

Utilizing all the strength and will he could muster, he finally stood once more and walked slowly, carefully outside to the deeply dug little grey outhouse. Once in the tiny space, that was more like a small compartment than a room or building, he hovered over the outdoor toilet as long as he could without passing out, but nothing more released except gas. And after washing up once more nearby, he slowly walked back to his little house and Piccolo.

He could not believe Piccolo had done so much for him, and actually stayed and lain with him. Did that mean they were friends now? Something more? Thinking made him more tired, so he just decided to keep walking. Piccolo stood tall at the doorway, arms folded, looking as fierce and foreboding as he usually did. But Gokuu could not help but smile at him, it widening when Piccolo’s ears flicked closer to his skull and his arms dropped.

“Miss me?” dared Gokuu, somewhat jokingly in a pale attempt to lighten the mood.

“Don’t push it Son. I could still easily kill you.”

“Hm.”

Nothing more was spoken as they went back inside and laid back down. Eventually both succumbed to deep slumber.


Days had passed with odd ease, and though Gokuu still appeared too bony to be his usual self, Piccolo was relieved to see some color back in his cheeks and a bit more vim in his movements. Perhaps they could even begin training soon.

“Piccolo… Would you take a bath with me? It’s been a while since I’ve had a hot one. And I know you’ve been patient until I could do it myself. But, I smell pretty awful. Don’t I?”

Piccolo quickly looked away.

“I’ll fix you a bath, but you have to bath yourself, alone. You only call for me once you’re through. Understand?”

“But why? You’ve seen me naked many times now. What’s wrong now?”

“Do you want a bath or don’t you?”

Gokuu sighed heavily before nodding in the affirmative.

After washing outside of it, once he was sitting in the large soothing bin of water with a fire underneath, a ways from the house; Gokuu just soaked for a while with his eyes closed; attempting to not think of anything. He knew Piccolo was still keeping watch of him not too far away, and thought he was being silly, but he kept quiet. He needed this soak for his sore and wearied body and mind. Hopefully he would be strong enough soon to start training again. He did miss it dearly.


When he finally went back inside that night, after dressing in the clean clothes Piccolo had left for him, Gokuu’s eyes widened; he might have screamed if he wasn’t so shocked.

“What have you done?!”

“Everything in here was dilapidated and dirty. I have used my materialization to renew everything, including the building. This place was literally falling apart. You should be grateful,” growled Piccolo meanly, not at all liking Gokuu’s tone.

“But, his scent is gone now,” lamented Gokuu.

“Grow up Son. Do you think how you’ve been behaving lately would make your Grandpa proud?”

Gokuu bit his lip and turned away, curling up in his now fresh futon and beginning to shake as he muffled his cries in the blankets.

Dammit Son. What happened to the you who couldn’t be budged? The you I…

Piccolo sighed to himself, pulled off his cape and turban and delicately placed them down so the weight of them would not damage the tiny house. Then he gingerly lay down next to Gokuu, looking as ridiculous as the first time he’d laid on the futon which obviously did not fit his stature, and he squeezed Gokuu’s arm ever so gently.

“As long as you remember him, he’ll live on in your heart Son,” he offered softly, still beside himself that he yearned so immensely to ease Gokuu’s suffering. 

Gokuu pulled his head out of the covers and gazed at Piccolo with those large warm dark unassuming childlike eyes, imploring so much without words. And Piccolo could not fully resist the urge he had had many times but did not wish to admit, moving closer and pressing his lips to Gokuu’s, pulling him close and holding him in genuine intimacy a few tender moments, wishing he could somehow squeeze his anguish away without hurting him. He was surprised when Gokuu suddenly had him on his back and began kissing him earnestly in turn; his cheeks, his lips, his neck and further down his carved form with each ardent osculation and imploring caress.

It was hot and warm and wet and a mess Piccolo would have never believed he wanted any part of was it not happening, but he did. Gokuu must have been more recovered than he looked, because he easily tore his clothes away. And after undressing himself, getting up and grabbing some cooking oil from the kitchen, Gokuu began doing the most erotic thing Piccolo had ever seen—preparing himself passionately, beginning to rock on his own lube-glistening fingers and moan while he played with his rigid sprung to life member, with his eyes closed and plump lips immaculately open in the perfect pout.

Piccolo swallowed thickly as he watched with much more than mere fascination. He had never witnessed Gokuu perform such uncharacteristic behavior before, had never known him to be such a way. But the more he watched the less still he could stay; finally pinning Gokuu beneath him, lifting his hips and bringing them closer to his own.

“Are you sure Son? I’ll hear no complaints later.”

“I’m sure Piccolo. I want you, inside me, with me.” 

Piccolo shivered in a way he never had before, moving to kiss Gokuu hard before either of them could change their minds. Once the tip of his throbbing pine hued member touched Gokuu’s lubricated entrance, both quieted and stilled, neither even breathing until he finally pressed in to the hilt, making them each gasp.

It was slow and a little painful at first, but both began to rock a bit harder toward the other; moving faster and with more passion once they were both adjusted. It was unlike anything Piccolo had ever known, and he wondered then why he’d been so against it.

They moved and groaned and rode each other hard after a while; something immaculate building up within each of them, ready to crash with a thunderous fury in the most incredible undulating waves. And they each called the other’s name without thinking; riding harder and holding tighter to the other enough to bruise.

Then the madness was suddenly over, leaving them wet and sticky in a limp hypersensitive breathing heap for long moments. And Piccolo knew then why he’d been avoiding it: the chemistry between them was uncanny, whether sheer attraction or for war. But that ruined everything. And now things would never be the same between them again. For, every time he saw him, he would no longer be able to lie to himself about what he felt, would never be able to forget what it felt like to be with him.

“I love you Piccolo,” whispered Gokuu honestly before succumbing to slumber in Piccolo’s arms.

Piccolo did not answer. He only held him tighter, wishing the morning did not have to come.


Piccolo had lost count of the days that had passed, but surely it had been weeks since he’d come to stay at Gokuu’s house. He never would have imagined that he would not only get used to, but enjoy the presence of the other always around. His scent. His bubbly mannerisms. His annoying habits and idiosyncrasies. His honest meanderings and sharp deductions, that he never would have believed if not witnessing them firsthand. The way he made love with him like he wasn’t the most hideous demon or a mere body to use, but a wonderful and real beautiful partner, a genuine part of his heart. But most of all, his laughter and the way his genuine face-splitting eye-squinting smiles always seemed to light up not only his eyes but the entire room, perhaps the entire mountain. Nothing tickled Piccolo’s ears or touched the heart he did not wish to claim as his own more than Gokuu’s laughter. It rippled on the wind and permeated throughout Piccolo’s soul. And he knew one thing for certain: since he had chosen not to kill him when he had the chance, he would never be able to now. Not because he wasn’t strong enough—he could train to be as great as he wished, always pushing beyond his limits and on—but because he no longer possessed the craven ignorant pure hatred-tainted will necessary to do so. He would probably give up his own life before allowing Gokuu’s to be lost now, and that did not settle well with that heavy dim part of himself that was still anything but light.

Gokuu was healthy again. It was time to leave. Perhaps he would never kill him. But he could not stay either.

With one last look at the extraordinary warrior, who had been his roommate in oddest but somehow best ways for a time Piccolo had lost count of, Piccolo used his telekinesis to very carefully ease out of the little cream, navy and brass hued house with the red door without waking the man he no longer loathed. Though not a tear fell, Piccolo’s eyes did burn as he determinedly flew out of his life for good.

Tears slid from Gokuu’s eyes and he did toss forlornly in the bed they had shared many a night, now alone. But he did not attempt to follow Piccolo; biting his lip and striving to find the contented slumber he only could with Piccolo lying beside him.

Until The Next…

Thanks for reading mina-san. Things have been stagnant in my life, but I am finally learning to heal myself and get on track. I am going to do my best to finish as many stories as I can this year. This one began because I want a new take on the DBZ Universe without fully relinquishing what DBZ set. I think DB Chou has done enough damage rewriting and rushing plot. With the name Chou, I was hoping for much better, but those are the breaks. One must realize it is a shounen manga/anime and thus there are not only cultural and stereotypical limitations but age and therefore story limitations. While totally irksome at many times in its development, Dragon Ball is still the greatest manga/anime franchise in all of manga or anime to me, so I’ll keep writing, hopefully finishing this and other stories this year.

Thank you very much for all who have supported me and who have done their best to make this world a better place. Words aren’t enough to thank those souls who are truly courageous and decent worthwhile souls, but thank you.



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