Gohan wa Byouki no ka?

TRANSLATION: Gohan\'s sick? Piccolo-san, what will you do?
DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING! Dragonball and Dragonball Z belong to Toriyama Akira-sensei. If I owned DBZ, Videl would have a girlfriend, there would be very few straight people.
NOTE: This came to me as I coughed and sneezed my way through the flu. Gohan\'s about, oh, I\'d say 19, I dunno. Trunks and Goten are still kids. Enjoy.

Hack! hack! hack!
“*121.7*?!”
“Bulma-san, ow! Please, my ears…” Hack! hack!
“Oh, my poor baby,” Chichi cooed from 6 feet away. “I’ll go make you some more soup!”
And with that, she dashed off to the kitchen.
“-urally more resistant than you *pathetic* humans, woman, of course he has a fever of 121.7 degrees!” Vegeta exclaimed.
“I thought your brain started melting by that time,” Kuririn muttered.
“If he was a weak human, it would have,” Vegeta scoffed. “But he’s only half so, and it’s a good thing our species is naturally dominant.”
“That’s not what you said last night, *bitch*,” Bulma muttered.
“Woman, I swear, if I have to blast that mouth off of you-”
“Please, don’t keep us informed with your sex life,” Kuririn almost begged. “Argh…”
“Feh. You humanoid species are all the same…except you, Gohan,” Piccolo added quickly, catching the glare his sick lover was shooting him.
“Shut up, you’re a humanoid species too, you know!” Bulma exclaimed.
“Not nearly to the same extent as humans or Saiyajin!”
“You ingest, you *digest*, and you fuck, *and* you have a physical appearance *astoundingly* like a human’s, I call you humanoid!”
“First of all, I *drink-*”
“Not very well, or so I’ve heard,” Kuririn muttered, seeming to forget that Piccolo could hear him.
“*Water,* you pretentious *ass*!”
“SHUT UP!!” Hack! hack! Sneeze.
The entire room quieted down at the shout.
“Well. Yes. Ah…” Bulma paused, seeming lost for a moment, then turned to Vegeta. “You! Get over here!”
Vegeta narrowed his eyes, but did as told.
“Now. As you are apparently the *king* of all knowledge…” Bulma gave a mock bow, and Vegeta had to visibly restrain himself from punching her down to the floor. “…perhaps you can tell us a little about the Saiyajin flu.”
“It’s simple enough,” Vegeta said. “You can either wait it out, or take care of it in the usual medical approach.”
Silence.
“Which would be…?” The room looked at the prince expectantly.
“What else?”
“Medicine, surgery, therapy, you tell us!”
“Well, *sex,* of course!” Vegeta said this is as if it were common knowledge.
“…”
“*What?!*” Vegeta glared at the room, but the strange looks did not disappear.
“This would explain why you jump me every time I sneeze,” Bulma muttered. “And here I thought it was a case of Pavlov’s dog…”
“…”
“Do you *know* you’re speaking out loud?” Kuririn asked, slapping his forehead with his palm.
“Don’t tell me you humans haven’t even figured out the basic fundamentals of medical science!” Vegeta exclaimed.
“Oh? And just what would *those* be?”
“Sex cures everything!”
“…”
“*What?!* Quit looking at me like that!”
“…Vegeta…” Bulma began. “Is the Saiayjin race, by any chance, a perpetually hormonal species?”
“Our females kill the most during their periods, if that’s what you mean.”
“…”
“You should have seen them when it coincided with a full moon! That was truly a sight to see…” A wistful look fell over Vegeta’s face – at least, wistful for Vegeta. Which was more than mildly disturbing.
“You know, woman, I’ve always wanted a daughter…” Vegeta pulled Bulma close to him as tears appeared in his eyes an waves crashed behind them-
“*Ahem.ohanohan narrowed his eyes meaningfully at the two. “Vegeta-san. Are you telling me that – that Piccolo-san and I need to…you know…”
“What, fuck like rabid Earth bunnies? Yes.”
Piccolo shoved the guests out of Gohan’s bedroom and locked the door; Chichi could be heard demanding the prognosis, which was soon followed by a very audible “never mind, never mind, never mind!”
“Gohan!”
“Yes, Piccolo-san?”
Gohan looked up at the Namekseijin curiously.
“Gohan, you know I…you know…” Piccolo turned a fantastic purple hue.
“Love me?”
“Er…yes…” Purple turned into violet. “Er. Well.”
“Go on…”
“Um. What Vegeta said…about…”
“Getting better?”
“Exactly.”
“And about how we need to have sex so I can get better?”
“Er, yes…”
“Well,” Gohan folded back his covers, “come on, what are you waiting for?”
Piccolo hesitated, then joined his lover on the bed.
“…well?”
“Well, *what?*”
Gohan gave Piccolo a look.
“What do you mean ‘well, what?’ Have at me!” Gohan sneezed, then threw himself on his back.
“*What?!*”
Hack! hack! hack!
“Have-” Hack! “-at me, Piccolo-san!” Gohan repeated, before sneezing once more. He paused as he was wiping his nose off with a Kleenex. “What? What are you looking at me that way for?”
“…Gohan.”
“Yes?”
“I am *not* going to have sex with you when you’re sick!”
“You wanna extend that?” Gohan hissed, looking suddenly murderous, and speaking to Piccolo in a way he never had before: very very rudely.
Gohan grabbed his mentor by the gi-collar and dragged him down to eye level. Piccolo could see how very bloodshot his mate’s normally gentle eyes looked.
“Piccolo-sa. Am. Am *not*. Feeling very well. I’ve just been told that sex can reverse this. So if you don’t start fucking me into this bed RIGHT NOW, I can promise you, IT WON’T BE HAPPENING FOR A VERY LONG TIME! NOW *FUCK* ME, PICCOLO-SAN!!” Gohan concluded this with what Piccolo-san determined was the most intense kiss they had had up-to-date.
On the other side of the door, Vegeta seemed to find the situation very funny.