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Goten No Sakura	By : saiyansecret Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1250 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ, & make no financial profit writing fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
Part 2, Chapter 5
The Calm Before the Storm
※
Spring~
-:-
A gust of propelled wind swept through a cluster of trees below, scattering grassy debris on the ground as Gohan smoothly landed his and Videl's helicopter near his parents' home.
They could have flown faster on their own, but also planned on picking up weekly groceries and dry cleaning, part of their Saturday errands.
"I doubt we'll be staying long, anyway," Videl commented to Gohan.
"I know," Gohan sighed listlessly, hoisting their daughter onto his shoulders.
Pan rang the doorbell, waiting impatiently, then jumped into Goku's arms when he answered. "Grandpa!"
The eldest Son man, whose eternally boyish appearance did not fit such a title, grinned as he patted her back. "There's my girl," he commented proudly. "ChiChi," he called into the next room.
The three of them looked around, sensing one missing ki. "Goten's not here again?" Gohan asked, unsurprised.
"No," Goku confirmed as ChiChi joined them, to Pan's disappointment.
"Why?" the small girl demanded indignantly, sulking, "He never plays with me anymore."
"He's at Capsule Corp, dear," ChiChi told her, "He should be home next week, unless you'll be in West City."
"It's out of the way," Gohan replied doubtfully, "Vegeta's still got him in boot camp?"
"I hate Vegeta-san!" Pan exclaimed crossly, scowling.
"Pan!" Videl scolded her, "Don't say mean things."
"But he is mean," Pan retorted stubbornly, "He's being selfish."
An awkward silence fell over the group, before ChiChi added, frowning, "Goten's there more often than here, and we rarely see him without Vegeta."
"Guess we gotta make reservations," Gohan ironized, "I haven't seen him in over a year."
"Well, he is his sensei," Goku reasoned.
"I guess you're right," Gohan conceded, thinking of all he owed to Piccolo.
"Well, stay for lunch," ChiChi told them, "You're visiting us, too, aren't you?"
"Of course, ChiChi," Videl replied with a smile, and they followed her to the kitchen, where the smell of roasted chicken welcomed them.
Goku waved them ahead, concealing his consterned expression.
-:-
As did everyone who knew the Saiyan prince, Goten routinely waited for the best time to approach him with an idea. That was usually after he'd trained and cleaned up.
Lately, however, that had changed. His training with Trunks and himself had become more seldom, and after his solitary practice, he silently brooded for long periods of time.
Confounded, Goten waited until whatever occupied him had reasonably passed to join him outside, seated in the backyard.
"Why don't you train with me anymore?" he asked again, not truly expecting an answer.
"I have a lot to work on," Vegeta replied simply, staring noncommittally at the horizon.
"Maybe a break would help," Goten prompted. At the other's sarcastic, sidelong glance, he specified, "I mean a change of scenery. Remember what I asked you last year, where I wanted to bring you?"
Vegeta's expression changed and he nodded, suggesting that he was at least thinking about it, and Goten waited hopefully.
At that moment, Trunks leaned out the back door to announce, "Goten, Gohan's here. And apparently, your niece has a bone to pick with you."
Goten grinned and stood up, though the timing was less than perfect.
Curiously, Vegeta followed the demi Saiyans inside from afar.
"Don't I know you from somewhere?" Gohan drawled, but smiled as he clapped Goten's shoulder.
"Very funny," Goten replied dryly, nevertheless realizing that he'd missed his brother. "How are you, Videl?" he inquired pleasantly.
"Doing fine. How about you, Goten?" She studied him as he held up a peace sign, reflecting that he looked different, in a way she couldn't place.
"Why don't you come play with me anymore, Oji-san?" Pan demanded with the tactlessness of her age, reminding them of her mother when she was angry.
"My dad and Trunks don't play with me anymore, either," Bra sympathized.
"Not the same." Pan stubbornly folded her arms, glaring daggers at Vegeta when he entered the spacious salon. "You keep squatting my playtime with Goten," she railed accusingly, "You're mean and selfish!"
"Pan!" Videl scolded her again with embarrassment.
Vegeta only raised an amused eyebrow. "I try," he replied calmly.
"You're here now, and training isn't the same as playing," Gohan reminded her. He mentally shrunk from Vegeta's expected glare on that subject, surprised that the latter wasn't paying attention. Like Videl, he watched him and Goten, puzzled.
Realizing his acquired habit of unconsciously standing next to Vegeta, Goten picked up Pan. "You are your mother's revenge on me, aren't you?" He knuckle-rubbed her head, making her giggle.
The conversation turned to enough pleasant small talk to make Vegeta uncomfortable and wander off. Videl and Bulma began talking while the two little girls played, so Gohan took the opportunity to speak with Goten for real.
The Son brothers stepped outside, and Goten observed that Gohan seemed more like the big brother he remembered than a professor in a suit, cooped up inside all day.
"So, I guess whatever was wrong is okay now?" Gohan ventured.
"It has been for a long time," Goten replied, supposing him to be busily overworked and rarely informed.
"Nah, you look great," Gohan specified, "I just didn't realize your training was such serious work."
Goten frowned to himself, believing to sense Gohan's thought that he would turn out to be a thinly-veiled bum with no ambition. "Serious enough for Dad and Vegeta. Why not me, because I'm not good at anything useful?"
Gohan sighed in exasperation. "Cut it out. If Pan is a drama queen, she gets it honest."
"What do you mean?" Goten asked warily.
"Goten, it's only me," Gohan reminded him, "I just meant it's unusual. Vegeta-san must be a good sensei to you. I never would've guessed that."
"Well, Dad said Piccolo-san was his enemy before, too," Goten pointed out.
"Yeah, and he definitely didn't make mine easy," Gohan agreed, "Best thing he ever did for me, though."
"Then why did you really stop training?" Goten asked rhetorically.
Gohan chuckled. "Yep, I see the influence."
"I mean for real," Goten insisted impatiently, "Not Dad's 'I only fight when I must' line."
"Well, it's true. But no, I don't like to fight. When you've had to do it for so long and lost so much, it loses its charm," Gohan replied dryly.
Goten nodded to himself. /Could I be a real warrior like Vegeta?/ he thought, /And willing to go through what he does now, still paying the price for it?/ He would not tell anyone what he believed to have noticed, that Vegeta concealed even from him, though he suspected that Gohan would know something about it.
"I meant to ask," Goten inquired casually, "A friend of mine said her uncle hasn't been the same since he came back from war - screwed up, y'know - do you think full-blooded Saiyans are immune to things like that?"
Gohan noticed the familiar way he'd been speaking of his sensei, but assumed he did not address him thus. "I'm not sure," he replied thoughtfully, "He and Dad never seemed phased by it. Do you think otherwise?"
"Just wondering if they have powers we don't," Goten shrugged off, hesitating. "Could you find me some info about that?"
Gohan frowned. It was clear that the native Saiyans had not had what were considered by Earth's standards to be normal lives, but had lived by a completely different system. Also, they were not human, in terms of biological genus.
The two duelling natures dwelled within the demi Saiyans like fire and ice, obliging them to tread a shaky balance within themselves. He wondered how they would have adapted on the old planet, if the situation were reversed.
If it concerned Vegeta, however, that was not a dumb question on Goten's part, and he nodded. "I'll see what I can find. But I can't promise it'll be accurate, since nothing is officially known about Saiyans."
"Sure," he blew off, and fell silent.
Gohan considered him. "Trunks said you guys talk a lot," Gohan commented, "Maybe give it time."
"Maybe," Goten echoed doubtfully, but told him, "We'll be going away for a bit to train."
"That's not a bad idea," Gohan replied encouragingly, "Try to convince him to take a break. Maybe go fishing or something."
Goten grinned at the improbable idea. "I'll try."
Gohan lightly told him, "Stranger things have happened. Your first impression of Vegeta-san wasn't the same as mine. You also didn't meet our uncle Raditz. Maybe he would've changed, too, who knows."
Raditz, Goten thought, a light going on in his mind. Of course. "Yeah, maybe." He changed the subject. "What's going on with you guys?"
"Same old," Gohan replied in a voice of nonchalance, "But I have an assistant professor now, so you can visit more often. And I'll have more time for a life."
They laughed, and spoke of lighter matters for the rest of their conversation. Eventually, they headed back inside to join the others, while Goten began to repay his playtime debt to Pan.
-:-
Videl paused as she accepted a second cup of coffee, stirring in a cloud of milk. "…Different how?" she inquired.
Bulma stared into her own cup, as though trying to read the future. "Maybe it really is my imagination," she wondered aloud, "Trunks said it was most likely a joke."
"Hm… it probably was," Videl reassured her, "Piccolo-san doesn't have much sense of humor, either, but Gohan jokes with him sometimes."
"I just look paranoid, so I don't say anything," Bulma recounted impatiently, "But I tell you, it's creepy as hell."
Videl watched her thoughtfully. "How so?"
Bulma hesitated at voicing her thoughts. "Tell me the truth, Videl. Do you get the impression there's something weird going on with them?"
Videl glanced into the sitting room, where the rest of the group was gathered. "I think Goten just needed a mentor," she reasoned, omitting to mention the prince's ego.
"No, I mean something more than that," the blue-haired scientist clarified, also watching them. At the other woman's puzzled look, she confided, "There hasn't been anything between us for many years now, if you see what I mean."
"Oh." Videl was quiet for a moment, sensing her embarassment, but shook her head confidently. "Before we lost Mother, she was everything to my dad. Since then, all he did was drink and pick up women. Not as much anymore, but believe me, I know flirting when I see it."
"Well, if you're sure," Bulma replied doubtfully, knowing the difference of subtlety between the two examples. Though, she also knew that by her sharp perception, Videl had missed her calling as a detective.
Videl offered an awkward smile as she accepted a biscuit. Something indeed seemed odd between the two, but if there truly were such a mess, she was not about to get caught in the middle of it.
-:-
Catching sight of Vegeta standing off to himself by a large bay window, Gohan joined him to look outside.
"How are you, Vegeta-san?" he inquired politely.
"I'm well," the latter replied simply.
"I wanted to say thanks for helping Goten out," Gohan bade him, getting to the point as he preferred, "He worried us for a long time. I'm glad he's doing better."
Vegeta nodded his welcome, but said only, "Your father would do the same for Trunks."
"Of course," Gohan agreed, silently observing him. Finally he added, "It must have been difficult for you as well."
"Why do you say that?"
"As you know, our sense of honor is strong," Gohan diplomatically explained, "Goten surely knows he owes you, and he likes to feel useful. Maybe you could find a way for him to do so?"
"He doesn't owe me anything," Vegeta stated matter-of-factly.
"Well, okay," Gohan replied, "But you know, even though he's your pupil, Goten's a good friend… a good ally you can count on," he corrected at the elder Saiyan's peculiar glance.
"I should hope so," the latter commented, deciding the Son men's ways were indeed genetic.
Gohan hesitated, unsure of what to say to him. "How's the training going?" he settled on, as familiar terrain.
"We're planning an excursion to get out of a rut," Vegeta replied, "Indeed, our tactics may be improved by a… change of scenery."
"Yeah, he mentioned it. That's a great idea," Gohan replied enthusiastically, "New horizons can be inspiring." He beamed, wondering if Goten really would connive him into taking a break.
"Maybe," Vegeta conceded absently, glancing at the neglected musculature of his arms through his long-sleeved T-shirt. "I suppose you'll be getting back in minimal shape for your daughter's practice," he told him flatly.
Gohan nodded, quickly replying, "Yes, I'll have more time for that now." He knew that the other Saiyan was not happy with his son's academics lessening his time for practice, as he clearly saw Gohan as a bad example to him. Perhaps seeing his idea of hope in Goten balanced that out, he thought with a pang of guilt. "Well, have a nice time," he bade, to end on a pleasant tone.
Vegeta nodded with a vague glance, turning back absent-mindledly to the window.
-:-
Gohan left him on that note, seeing Trunks signal him with a two-fingered wave and a friendly smile from the hallway. It struck him that the other demi Saiyan was now the same age as his future counterpart had been when he'd met him, and he returned the greeting.
"Hey, Trunks, how's it going?" It was easy to guess what was on his mind, seeing as Goten seemed to be on everyone's shit list again.
"It's good to see you, Gohan," Trunks replied cheerfully, "I'm glad you stopped by. Our schedules have been too crazy for visits."
Gohan nodded. "How's college prep going?"
"Don't remind me." Trunks rubbed a hand over his hair. "Classes are okay, but our tutor's a bitch who doesn't think we have lives."
Gohan snickered. "I remember those. But university will be cool, and when you're president of Capsule Corp, you'll be doing what you like."
"Not really," Trunks admitted, "Mom and Grandpa didn't leave me the choice. Goten's lucky. I still can't believe your mom let him quit."
"Me, neither," Gohan agreed, "All the battles changed her mind, but we wonder how he'll make a living. Now she's strict about his training."
"Yeah, I noticed." Trunks walked the long hallway with Gohan, who was admiring a new collection of watercolor paintings on the walls.
"Don't you guys hang out much anymore?" Gohan inquired. A painting of an old bridge over a river near a cherry tree caught his eye. Whether it depicted a sunrise or a sunset was not discernable, but it was beautiful and expensive.
Trunks shook his head, puzzled. "That's why I talk to you more than him. He acts different, and isn't interested in the same things anymore. Mom thinks it's weird, too."
Gohan was thoughtful. "Weird in a bad way?"
"No," Trunks replied, though ambivalent, so as not to offend him. "You like those paintings?" he asked to change the subject.
Gohan nodded, leaning closer to inspect them. "They look familiar."
"They're done by a local artist no one knows anything about," Trunks told him, "Grandma loved them, and bought them at an auction."
Gohan nodded again, fascinated, as they seemed to tell a story with varying moods in similar settings. "We must have seen them somewhere, then," he commented.
"Trunks, can we borrow your video games?" Bra interrupted, she and Pan pulling Goten with them. The latter shrugged with a helpless look.
"If you're careful with them," Trunks grudgingly agreed, muttering to his little sister, "Break them and I'll kick your ass."
Gohan looked amused by his brother's reproachful glare at Trunks. "Aren't these nice, Goten?" he asked of the paintings.
"Yeah, cool," Goten replied impatiently, before his mini captors dragged him off.
The other young men grinned, resuming their walk to the veranda.
"How's your promotion going?" Trunks asked.
"Pretty good," Gohan reported, "My new assistant's a big help, even if our students are less enthusiastic about math."
"Well, if you think of me and take pity on them, I'll try not to call my tutor a bitch," Trunks suggested.
"Deal," Gohan agreed, skaking his head at wondering if the current president was worried for the company's future.
-:-
Some time after they'd left, Goten waited for Vegeta outside again, behind a row of shrubs on the edge of the expansive property. It was becoming more difficult to find shared spaces, at Capsule Corp or elsewhere.
A bit later, Vegeta rejoined him, squeezing his shoulder as he sat next to him. Both reclined on the grass heads opposite, and neither spoke, looking up at the clouds tracing paths across a blue sky. Their silence was never uncomfortable.
Finally, Vegeta picked up where they'd left off. "You were asking me something before?"
Goten smiled slowly. "Yeah, and Gohan gave me an idea for an alibi - kind of like when when Piccolo-san taught him survival."
"I hate that word," Vegeta muttered aloud.
"It's just an idea for an excuse," Goten added optimistically, "No concern of ours."
"What's the place like?" Vegeta asked, forgetting the thought.
"I told you, you'll see," Goten replied with a mysterious smile, "I thought we'd stay about a week, more or less. I'm sure you'll want to."
"I see now." Vegeta grinned. "I'll leave the details to you, then." He paused. "I wondered why you haven't asked to spend the night lately."
"Because Bulma's been giving me weird looks," Goten confided, "You, too, I guess you noticed. I don't get why she even cares."
"She probably still thinks it's to get back at her." Vegeta leaned his head back onto his shoulder, his eyes closing tiredly.
"It'll do you good," Goten encouraged, "You look like crap."
"Well, thanks," Vegeta retorted dryly.
"I mean like you haven't slept in ages," Goten clarified. Indeed, his eyes were slightly bloodshot with dark, puffy shadows underneath them. "I'm sure that will change," he affirmed confidently, "Unless you're afraid they'll find out."
"Easy enough for you. To them, you would just be the poor sucker I corrupted because I could," Vegeta speculated flatly.
"I'm still waiting for my 'corruption,'" Goten .
" impatient," Vegeta . Getting away from the place was like a dream. Still, his fists closed unconsciously in his lap.
Goten hesitated. "Something wrong?"
"No." But Vegeta was quiet at his turn.
"Vegeta…" Goten warned with a tinge of reproach.
"Just tired, like you said," Vegeta closed the subject, "It's best to leave when the week begins, if you see what I mean."
Goten nodded, as it would not look like a vacation that way. He doubted that his senpai had ever taken one in his life, as he did not like to travel, and no wonder. "Good idea," he agreed. The other Saiyan was clearly not happy with his own technique, adding to the stress of leading a risky double life, and becoming paranoid of every glance and comment from their families. It was getting on both their nerves.
Sensing Goten's worry, Vegeta told him, "You're right, it'll be a nice change."
Goten beamed confidently, sure that it would be.
-:-
The sakura place~
Early Monday morning while the rest of the household was busy, Vegeta and Goten left in uniform, with only a backpack and a cooler each.
Having seen the former Saiyan speaking with Piccolo and Goku the day before, no one seemed to find the excursion odd, certainly imagining an operation worthy of the Foreign Legion.
Vegeta followed Goten's obscure flight directions through the damp morning fog to an unfamiliar region, taking mental notes of the route.
"I always take a different path, but this is the main one," Goten casually told him, "Our ki will be hidden. Sorry it's a little complicated."
"I noticed," Vegeta muttered, regretting having left his radar device behind, as the demi Saiyan had asked. It would be too easy for someone to pick up the signal, he'd explained.
"You never know," Goten commented, sensing his frustration, "It could save our lives someday."
"Not a bad defense strategy," Vegeta admitted, memorizing the labyrinth of cliff crevices that led to an immense, virgin forest.
"Yeah, or in case my mother finds out," Goten added.
The wind and humidity from the long flight had begun to sting their eyes when Goten finally announced, "Here we are." Hovering in mid-air, he pointed to a dense cluster of trees in the forest below. "There. The sakura."
"Huh?"
"The pink cherry tree in bloom," he specified, "Out of season, you can see two big Y-shaped branches, one on each side."
"Got it." Vegeta followed his path to the region below, circling a detour around the other trees, and approaching it once concealed by the dense folliage. When they'd landed, the said tree was farther away than it had appeared, across a large stream.
"Of course it's easier to fly across, but check this out," Goten told him with a mirthful grin, "I made this bridge, but careful. The brownish stones look stronger, but they'll break on purpose."
Where the water ran in noisy, dangerously choppy rapids, he led him across a rope footbridge that held up small, rugged stepping stones, each which swung to and fro in the wind. It creaked as though it would give out, but both nimbly lept the gray stones a splits' distance apart from one to the next, until they were safely across.
"Clever," Vegeta acknowledged, admiring his handiwork.
"You've seen nothing yet," Goten cheerfully warned him. From the other side was a similar bridge, though it stretched over a yawning, seemingly bottomless chasm between two cliffs. They walked a slight distance through a thick white mist from a nearby waterfall enshrouding his claimed hideout, until they arrived at the cluster of trees. Within it, the mist gradually cleared away, and the stream was a calm, limpid blue.
In the center, Goten's sakura tree stood proudly in its splendor of rich, pale pink blossoms in their prime, glistening with early morning dew like tiny diamonds winking in the first prismic sunbeams of the day. The contrast with the myriad deep greens surrounding them gave the place an etheric, magical look, as though inhabited by tiny fairies and wood sprites.
Vegeta looked around wordlessly, never having seen such magnificent surroundings in the midst of musical silence.
"Strange," he mumbled aloud.
"What's strange?"
"It looks like I've been here before, but…" Vegeta shook his head. "I'm sure I haven't."
"Maybe someplace similar?" Goten suggested.
"Maybe," Vegeta agreed, but dismissed it.
"You like it?" Goten asked timidly, knowing that the other Saiyan never paid attention to aesthetics.
Vegeta nodded, still exploring Goten's, and now his, secret realm. "I've seen these trees, but just in parks full of tourists." Here, only the soft chirping of birds and squirrels mingled with the liquid whispering of the quiet stream. An occasional breeze rustled through the freshly unfurled leaves, offering a comfortable temperature with the faint perfume of woodsy, minty green, and the delicate cherry blossoms above. A few loose petals floated down around them, in a gracefully twirling dance through the air.
Relieved and pleased by his approval, Goten beamed. "No tourists here, but we gotta finish your tour."
"Tour?" Vegeta wondered what could be missing from the idyllic spot.
Goten nodded eagerly. "It'd take all week to show you all the hiding places and the rest, but for the main ones…" He knelt at the expansive tree root, where Vegeta joined him, and pulled back some tightly compacted moss and leaves. A generous part of the root was hollow, where he moved aside a bark-tray of various nuts and acorns. "Squirrel-bribe," he explained with a wink.
Vegeta shook his head, but indeed, there were a few stacks of books, a folded tent, fishing poles, and diverse items, covered to protect them from the elements.
"You can put anything you need to hide here, or in other places up there." He pointed out some upper branches. Vegeta nodded, and they placed their bags in the hollow.
"What are those?" the latter asked of a set of brushes, multicolored tubes, palettes, and assorted items beside them.
"Sometimes I paint," Goten explained, looking uncomfortable at the fear of ridicule.
"Paint what?" Vegeta inquired.
"Pictures of scenery here," Goten replied, "Nothing special."
"Can I see?" Vegeta asked curiously.
Goten hesitated. "Promise not to tell anyone?"
"If it's important to you, sure," Vegeta replied, wondering why the secrecy.
Goten opened a long cylinder, then reluctantly handed him a rolled stack of finished canvases.
Vegeta examined them, his expression turning incredulous. "…the hell," he muttered.
"You don't like them?"
Vegeta looked up at him, astonished. "Goten, I've seen these before! Ones like them. They're hanging on the wall back at the house." He looked again at the yet unframed works of art. Goten painted these?
Goten scratched his head. "Well, yeah," he confirmed.
Vegeta looked more closely at one, mentally face-palming. No wonder this place looked familiar. "These are worth thousands each! You're a renowned artist, and never told me?"
"I just did," Goten proclaimed helplessly, "I didn't think you were interested in art." He paused. "How did you recognize them?"
"Trunks' grandmother decided to redecorate," Vegeta recounted. As the demi Saiyan had been at school, she'd brought him along to carry her purchases. She'd wanted watercolor paintings, and had shown him this collection. "I had no idea they were yours," he concluded. He blinked at the coincidence, wondering about the odds.
Goten looked up at him, his wide eyes lit with astonishment. "Really?"
Vegeta nodded and studied him. "What made you decide to sell them?"
Goten shrugged. "I painted for years, but it was just a hobby. One day, my mother was yelling at me again about how I was gonna make a living. It got on my nerves, but I knew she was right. It sucked never having enough money. My art teacher said my stuff was good enough to sell, so I took one to an art gallery in West City for an opinion. They gave me five hundred zeni in cash right away plus consignment for it, and an offer to buy more. We made an agreement that I'd remain anonymous as a business strategy. It works, too."
"Why anonymous?"
"The mystery makes them worth more," Goten explained, "Everyone thinks the landscapes are imaginary."
Vegeta nodded, casting him a furtively proud glance. "They're nice. I didn't know you had such a talent."
"Thanks." Goten blushed at the compliment, his eyes cast downward. "I also wondered that if you're really serious about me, how will we live? I don't know if there'll be enough, but I'll have my first half million this time next year."
"Baka." But Vegeta paused, staring at him. "Half /million?/"
"Yep. I opened a bank account nobody knows about," Goten told him, "I can add you when I don't need my fake ID anymore."
Overlooking the latter detail, Vegeta sternly demanded, "Don't you think that part's for me to take care of?"
Goten's eyes sullenly fixed the windswept grass before them. "Because I should stay useless?"
Vegeta's face darkened in turn. "Like the constant reminders I get that my only 'use' is as a free soldier when we're attacked? Why do you think I made sure over half the space program is mine? Listen, just surviving is no different than dying, and fuck that."
A bitter, heavy silence hung almost palpably in the air, and Goten never forgot those latter words. But had she really said such a thing, or had he overthought and read into something? It spoke much of his long silences, but he knew better than to ask right now.
Vegeta continued, "Literally everything can be taken from you in one fell swoop, except your dignity. I'd better not ever see you lower your head, no matter what, got it? Unless you're looking at something defeated on the ground, to kick it outa your sight with a smile." Goten nodded, which satisfied him sufficiently to calm his voice. "No, I certainly don't wish that on you."
He turned his back, and Goten watched him, perplexed at wondering what had set him off. Vegeta had been lighthearted and in fair spirits all morning.
"What's the matter, Vegeta?" Goten asked firmly after a long pause, confounded and unwilling to accept 'nothing,' or some equally lame reply.
The other Saiyan was quiet for a moment, sensing it. "Nothing you've done. I just don't want you thinking like that."
"Well, you seem to think like that." Goten watched him carefully, but was met with more silence, his senpai's point having been made. "You know, I brought you here to get away from all that," he reminded him, "You don't think you can tell me if something's wrong?" A note of reproach had crept into his voice.
"Nothing's wrong." Vegeta turned back to face him obliviously. "Just random things. I didn't mean to alarm you." His crisply courteous tone and 'subject closed' expression were clear enough.
Goten frowned to himself, but nodded. "If you didn't get enough sleep, we can take a nap. No schedule here," he added lightly.
"Sure, later," Vegeta agreed, "You were gonna show me the rest?" It was true that they'd been up since well before sunrise, though the place was not large.
"There's a lot left to see," Goten contrarily told him, wondering if it would be best to wait. "I could use one, too." They'd both stayed up late the night before, for such an early day.
Vegeta joined him where he'd knelt at the cachette to roll his canvases back up, slipping an arm around him. "I hope you'll make me one." His softened tone of voice matched the light, suggestive strokes of his fingertips that traced his back.
"Of course." Goten's eyes closed halfway at his touch. "You like them, really?"
"Enough to make everyone jealous and ask questions," Vegeta confirmed, winning him the kind of soft smile he wanted as the demi Saiyan replaced the cylinder and camouflage. "There's something about you in that uniform when we have no intention of training," he added, before roughly pulling him onto his lap for an unexpected, sultry embrace.
Goten visibly melted into a heated kiss, his hands appreciatively caressing his perfect musculature. Only Vegeta could make a simple tank top and sweats look so sexy, he thought likewise, his arms encircling his slender waist. "We kind of are, just a different subject," he returned, sucking greedily on his lips, which began to devour his own.
His fingers interlaced possessively with Vegeta's, causing him to note again with a thrill that he rarely wore his gloves anymore, only a pair of white wristbands that complemented his own black ones, the yang to his yin.
Now, he could not help a low groan to feel his fingertips tickling his palm with a clear message, intensifying the insistant stirring between his legs.
"I want you like you're really mine, not contraband," Vegeta echoed aloud.
"If you see me like that, it's for real," Goten told him, but snickered at his choice of words.
"What?"
"Just the way you said it," Goten replied lightly, but stopped mid-giggle at what his mouth was doing to the side of his throat.
Vegeta smirked softly in satisfaction against his warm skin at making him forget his thought, knowing exactly how and where to trace his fingers down his spine to make his back arch with longing, and unconsciously pulled him forward as the demi Saiyan leaned back invitingly.
Goten could not help but squirm sensually against him, the way his teeth sunk lightly into the side of his neck while he teasingly fingered his tail spot, worsening his yearning. "If you keep that up, I won't even try to behave," he warned through uneven breaths.
"Did I say I want you to behave?" Vegeta whispered silkily, his fingertips tracing slowly up his parted thighs to his rigid heat. He could not resist the sadistic thrill of teasing him to the trembling edge of first wetness, only to gently calm him down as though it were nothing.
Though he craved release almost to tears, Goten could not deny how exciting that felt, and the exhileration of not having to keep still.
Goten's lips feverishly went back to Vegeta's own, feeling him sigh in his embrace as he returned the toe-curling affection he'd been waiting for. The demi Saiyan's exciting pink tongue slid meaningfully between his lips as he squeezed his perfectly toned ass, making his breathing fall short.
Vegeta's hand firmly squeezed his arm, a wordless gesture which meant for him to calm down. Goten was learning to be more patient, as much as his mind fast-forwarded to a time when they would not need to be. Still, he curled up restfully next to him in the shade against the tree, where they settled for their nap in contented stillness.
"Stop wiggling," Vegeta mumbled, having found a comfortable position on the soft grass.
"Not my fault you made me horny," Goten mumbled back into his thick hair, but played with it in fascination, as always.
"Did I?" Vegeta asked innocently, but smirked over his shoulder.
Goten lifted his knee to smugly feel his equally sensitive hardness. "Like you're totally unaffected," he commented dryly, swearing to himself that he would otherwise take them all the way right then. He settled for draping one leg around him to keep the sexy contact, knowing that Vegeta liked to sleep in a state of unsated desire. It did help to avoid thinking of less desirable things.
Each allowed both eyes to close, because they could. All was quiet as far as their senses could perceive, with no witnesses except a few small diurnal forest animals, who did not mind them. It was the first time he'd seen Vegeta actually rest in several months, Goten reflected, hoping the nights would be as peaceful.
After an hour's nap, the residual mist from the stream beyond had mostly dissipated, affording a clearer view in the shaded sunlight.
Vegeta glanced around lazily, noticing how accustomed to the place Goten was. The latter took two cans of iced coffee from his cooler and handed him one.
"Have you watched the hanami festival before?" he inquired, more precisely meaning voluntarily so.
"I never saw the point," Vegeta replied flatly, "Trees go through the same cycles every year."
Goten only smiled. "Maybe you'll like it better here," he added mysteriously.
It was quite nice, Vegeta had to admit. Perhaps it would be different in such a tranquil setting, without the annoyance of crowds.
"How long have you had this place?" Vegeta asked, wondering just how much of him no one even knew.
"Since I was little," Goten recalled, "I found it by accident one day, but I always came back. It was the only place that was ever just mine. I never thought I'd bring anyone, though."
Vegeta glanced thoughtfully at him. "It's an honor, then," he stated in dignified sincerity.
Goten looked up in surprise, then quickly back down, feeling his cheeks blush. "As much for me that you accepted," he returned likewise.
After a few moments of silence, Goten looked up, seeing their cans empty, and placed them in his recycling bin. "Wanna see the rest?" he offered.
"Why not." Vegeta stood to follow him through the thickening forest.
Goten smiled as they walked, then pointed out a sparse patch of folliage. "Right past those, but mind the traps."
"You're expecting an invasion?" Vegeta was able to spot them, but most people would find themselves in an uncomfortable posture.
"You never know."
-:-
Returning to the sakura tree which they now referred to as base, Goten pushed aside a row of briars for them to pass, then they continued their walk.
"Dammit," he muttered to himself after a few minutes at a cut on his brow from a thorn.
"Huh?" Vegeta turned to see what slowed him down.
"I gotta find one of those bandage plants," Goten explained, "There are none nearby."
"For that?" Vegeta asked doubtfully, then saw the problem of blood dripping into his eye, which he knew stung and obscured his vision. "Hang on."
He knelt at the tree root and withdrew his backpack from the cache, then took out a blue and white box.
"You brought a first aid kit?" Goten asked in dubious amusement.
"It was easier than arguing with the woman," Vegeta replied dryly, and Goten nodded sympathetically. He quickly patched up the cut, while Goten looked at the box's contents.
Aside from the expected items, he recognized a senzu bean pouch, as well as an orange prescription bottle. He picked it up, less amused to read the too familiar ingredient, under his own name.
"Vegeta?" He only gave the latter his rare, interrogating look which meant that bullshit was useless at that point.
"I didn't tell anyone about it," Vegeta informed him defensively.
"No doubt," Goten retorted dryly. He himself hadn't needed or even touched any in several months. He'd allowed Vegeta to try one, that he knew of, and now dreaded to ask. He'd known the risks when he had taken it, but hadn't cared. And Vegeta had not judged him for it, despite how betrayed he knew he'd felt at the time. Knowing as much as he did about it, what could be that bad to make him resort to the same thing?
Goten said nothing for several moments, before he tersely appealed, "I always told you the truth. It's all I ask from you."
Vegeta folded his arms, darkly silent at his turn. "Sometimes I take them so I can sleep. There's no addiction."
Goten nodded soberly. That made sense, with one less problem. His real concern was what could be causing his known sleeplessness to the point of pushing him to take those, after he'd seen their damage. His own training progress clearly suffered as well now, and how he of all people could stand for that was beyond him.
He knew more about the truth of the other Saiyan's past than those who'd been there to witness it, including his categorical refusal to be controlled; unless, of course, it suited his purpose.
Beyond Goten's adamant possessiveness of this knowledge, the small voice of truth in the back of his mind echoed that of the one person who'd seen the fact immediately: Goku.
But he indignantly rebelled against what had been an even more bitter pill to swallow in the past, and in the past it stayed. He, Goten, was Vegeta's equal, not his father. This was for himself to handle, and none other.
Goten turned back to Vegeta. "What's been disturbing your sleep?" he asked, simply but directly.
"I've no idea." Vegeta propped his elbows on his knees and slumped. "Don't you think I'd fix it for real if I knew?" He kicked the box away in halfhearted frustration.
"Well, yeah." Goten's voice became subdued, hoping that Vegeta would not doubt his understanding. "Bad thoughts?"
Vegeta raised his palms apathetically. "Ones that won't shut up, and usually make no sense."
"And those are all that make them shut up?"
Vegeta nodded grimly. "Except when I'm finally too tired to think."
Goten looked pained. "Why didn't you tell me?
"You already knew," Vegeta replied stubbornly, "If you mean the pills, I don't care about the drunk phase."
Goten didn't bother correcting him this time, relieved at least for that. He thought for a moment, then suggested, "I know something that might help. I'll show you tonight, if you want."
"Sure," Vegeta replied, glad for the change of subject.
"Maybe you'll let me show you the point of going fishing?" Goten asked hopefully.
"Let me guess, Gohan's idea?" Vegeta commented in dry amusement, but agreed at seeing his kohai's expression brighten as quickly.
"No, why?" At the lack of his usual objection, Goten cheerfully took the two poles and a small tackle box from the cache.
"Testing my telepathy," Vegeta replied lightly, and followed Goten to the stream.
-:-
Satan City~
Gohan leaned back in his overstuffed recliner, already looking forward to his first two-day weekend off for the first time in years. Kami bless you, Ms. Fan, he thought of his assistant.
As Pan was taking a nap, the quiet was equally welcome.
Videl entered their spacious salon with a mug of tea for each, smiling at his casual sweats that matched his carefree expression.
"Thanks," Gohan bade as she handed him his tea, before taking a seat herself. He took a sip and grinned. "I sure don't envy Goten this week," he commented cheerfully.
"Hm," Videl mumbled noncommittally into her own cup, in what he called her Swiss-neutrality voice.
"From what Goten hinted, it's probably a sneaky way to make Vegeta take a break," Gohan reflected.
"I don't doubt that," Videl replied, "But it's not the impression I was given."
Gohan looked up, drawing a blank. "What do you mean?"
Videl bit her lip, having been taught that gossip was a repulsive character fault. She was speaking to her own husband, but still. "I probably shouldn't repeat it," she confided, ambivalent.
Gohan frowned, having noticed her distracted concern since the day they'd left Capsule Corp. "Okay, what's going on?"
Videl glanced up at his no-nonsense voice and sighed. "Bulma told me they haven't been a real couple anymore for years," she reluctantly began, "She thinks there's something going on with Vegeta and Goten, if you see what I mean. I tried to tell her it was a silly thought, but I watched them after that, and…" She shook her head. "It was nothing specific, you know? But I saw what she meant. The looks, the way they talk, the vibes… I hate to admit it, but I don't like it, either." She set her cup aside, fidgeting, then cast Gohan a sharp look. "You didn't hear that, got it?"
Gohan had been staring incredulously at her, agape. "Videl, that's a serious accusation!" he exclaimed, alarmed.
"That's why I'm being the three monkeys," she told him flatly, "And there's no way in hell I'm mentioning it to your mother." She crossed her feet stubbornly, still disbelieving her own repeated words.
"Nope. Me, neither." But Gohan shook his head, unable to believe it. "I don't think we ought to say anything at all. There's no proof," he affirmed, to his brother's defense as always.
"Well, Goten said a little too much to Pan," Videl recalled, "About her being 'my revenge on him'?"
Gohan's expression slowly changed as the significance sunk in. For a time when Goten had been small, he'd seen Videl as an evil witch who was taking his brother from him, as most small children would. Of course, it became a family joke, prematurely returned by the younger Son brother. "Holy Freudian slip," Gohan muttered, rubbing a hand vigorously through his short hair.
Videl nodded grimly. "What should we do? It's damned if we do, damned if we don't."
The couple exchanged a wary glance, agreeing in unison, "Three monkeys."
-:-
Serenity?
Night had fallen over the sakura place, covering it with its starry, indigo blanket. The almost-full moon penetrated the mist surrounding the haven, shining through the pink-spangled tree overhead to create a mysterious, purplish glow.
Vegeta had adopted it, Goten proudly noticed. Like now, from the West side of the tree, he was often peacefully quiet for a long time.
They watched the loose petals floating down, lit by the moon's pearly glow like pink fireflies in comfortable silence.
It was well after midnight, Goten noticed, the moon having reached its zenith. "We should be setting up camp," he reminded Vegeta.
The latter nodded, watching to see Goten's idea of camp. The latter pulled a folded blue tent from the root hollow, which he'd ingeniously accommodated for the back compartment to hermetically cover the tree root cache. The small compartment in the back kept their closed food stock safe.
Next, he took two matching sleeping bags from their impermeable sacs, which he zipped together before laying it out inside the tent, careful to avoid the tree roots.
When the lot was set up, they arranged several fallen tree branches within a circle of rocks they'd set up near the tent's entrance. Goten lit a fire to the wood with a small ki blast. "The lazy way," he admitted with a grin.
Vegeta sat down on a log before the fire, as Goten set a pot of water on to boil. It was still a bit chilly at night, and he rubbed his hands near the fire at its pleasant warmth as a sweet smell filled the air. After a few minutes, Goten sat next to him, pouring them each a thermal cup of hot chocolate, which they sipped at leisure.
"The cure for an incorrigible sweet tooth," Goten teased, a quirk he'd long ago found amusing in the other Saiyan.
"Not the only cure," Vegeta returned, with a smirk at making him blush.
"I'll let you imagine that one, 'til you have to take it," Goten challenged.
"I'll take it," Vegeta gladly accepted, but his elan was cut short by an unexpected yawn.
Goten shook his head, and tugged at his sweatshirt. "C'mon, you're making me sleepy just looking at you."
He put away their quickly emptied cups, and they cleared away the various objects strewn on the ground before entering the tent. Goten turned on a small, battery-powered lamp to put the lot away, and arranged their sleeping bag.
Vegeta glanced at a packet that had fallen out of the first aid kit, which contained an arm splint. "Someone's idea of a joke," he muttered sarcastically.
Goten took the packet from him, and quickly stuffed it into his own backpack. "It probably came with the kit," he reasoned, but mentally cursed it for darkening Vegeta's mood after a long-sought, nice day.
Not about to let anything spoil their escapade, Goten sat down on the cushioned sleeping bag, and patted Vegeta's side. He paused, thinking it best to clear it up first. "What exactly happened?" he asked carefully.
Vegeta's gaze didn't waver. "The broken arm didn't happen like you seem to think." Seeing that Goten was quietly listening, he continued, "I fell asleep in her room afterward, had a vivid nightmare, and mistook her for the enemy in my dream. No matter what I said later, all she ever did was throw it in my face."
Goten frowned, not knowing what to think. That was certainly not an appropriate joke, sarcastic or otherwise, if it were one. "But that was an accident long ago, right?"
"When Bra was conceived, and the last time ever," Vegeta confirmed matter-of-factly.
Goten shook his head, disheartened. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was that bad."
Vegeta stoically looked away. "It's only a matter of time before you see it the same way."
"That's not true!" Goten retorted, "Is that really what you think of me?"
"Would I be here otherwise?" Vegeta replied coolly.
All the years Goten had been torn between hatred and the fact that he still cared for his aunt, now waged a hurricane war within him. He'd always been able to forgive, but that was not a question to ask himself just then.
He hesitated before asking, "When you can't sleep, do you think about battles you've been in? Maybe that's the problem."
"It's what we're made for," Vegeta replied impatiently, "A good percent of my life's been spent doing it, so that's normal." Though he didn't sound as gung-ho as he had in years past.
Goten thought for a moment, confused. Vegeta was constantly contradicting himself, one moment glorifying combat, condemning it the next. In some ways, he'd evolved in the way maturity could be seen in Saiyans; in other ways, he'd remained frozen, as though a great part of him were no older than Goten.
"Yeah, but you've been through some things I wouldn't wish on anyone." Needless to mention what he certainly hadn't spoken of.
"Earthlings' characters aren't built for it," Vegeta commented in a lofty, resigned tone.
Goten scowled, shielding his offense at the random stab. He was being contradictory again, his words sounding automatic rather than thought out. Testing his own idea, Goten only replied, "I hope it doesn't stop me from progressing like you."
"You don't want to end up like me," Vegeta told him dryly, but hesitated. "Why the strange questions?"
"Just trying to see why you can't sleep," Goten explained, "And I certainly don't wanna be like me."
"Why?"
"I remember what it was like when I thought I I had no more reason to live… like you said, every reason I had was gone, just like that. I would've self-destructed soon enough. One word from you, and I still would," Goten affirmed dully.
"Cut it out!" Vegeta snapped, making Goten see that he'd put his foot in his mouth.
"Sorry." He backed down, and hesitated before changing the subject. "Did my uncle Raditz look like any of us?"
Vegeta cast him a sharp glance, but decided Gohan must be the origin of the question. "No, very different. Like a permanent Level Three, in normal form."
Goten nodded, and wondered aloud, "Do you think he would have changed for the better on Earth, like you?"
Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Commit a few genocides, and you're branded for life."
"Not to me." Goten smiled shyly and inched closer, placing one hand on his.
Maybe it was the memories he'd inadvertently awakened, or the way his longish hair fell to one side, but Vegeta slid his arm around his waist, and pulled him near for an unexpected kiss.
Relieved to sense the tension dissipating, Goten leaned into his embrace for an idle makeout.
Noticing that his side of their joined sleeping bags was new, it was clear that Goten had planned this excursion for quite some time. Smiling, he slid them into it to hold Goten as the small spoon.
Though Goten had hoped this to be the night for which he'd waited for so long, it was not the best timing. As much as Vegeta had intentionally worked him up all day, he'd clearly had the same vision. However, they had at least all week to favor quality over quantity.
Though they hadn't gone all the way yet, they acknowledged their need for mutual release, and had found what they'd agreed to be an acceptable compromise.
"You're the one who won't be able to sleep," Vegeta lightly warned him.
"Nah, I'll have good dreams," Goten assured him. He paused, remembering his purpose. "Sit up and turn around." He reached back into his bag and took out his hairbrush.
"What for?" Vegeta asked, but complied curiously as Goten sat behind him, inspecting the inevitable tangles in his hair.
"It helps to sleep," Goten explained, "I thought it was just me, but I saw on the internet it's really a thing."
"It must be true, then," Vegeta replied dryly, but paused at Goten's slow, gentle brush and finger strokes through his thick, flamelike hair. It sent pleasant shivers throughout his scalp and back, which was oddly calming. He'd never noticed that effect before.
"I know, it seems weird," he admitted, "There are lots of other things that help, too. I'll show you sometime." For several minutes, his fingers followed the delicate passages of the brush, painlessly loosening the tangles throughout his surprisingly silken hair, which he liked playing with. "When I brush it down, it pops right back up," he told him amusedly.
"Hn." Vegeta's eyes were closed, as he'd discovered a new kind of bliss. He did not want the sensations to end, wondering if there were something enchanting in the demi Saiyan's touch.
"You like that?" Goten asked in his sensually subdued voice he reserved for Vegeta.
"I don't know yet," the latter teased sleepily, a faint smile gracing his serene face as he watched the crackling embers outside.
Satisfied, Goten deliberately slowed his brush strokes, as the other Saiyan's hair had become much smoother. The chirp of crickets and cicadas, with the occasional distant calls of owls and other night birds made a perfect background.
Seeing his eyes closed after several minutes, Goten resumed, carefully worked out a few more knots, until the brush glided smoothly through his ebony hair. Satisfied to see that he was already dozing off, Goten reclined him and covered him as he finished, only tracing his fingers through his soft locks. He himself was calm and relaxed as well, now aware of his heavy eyelids.
"Thanks," Vegeta mumbled as he accepted Goten's light embrace under the covers, pleasantly surprised by the unusual calm. No crazy, racing thoughts, just peace.
"Anytime," Goten replied, glad to see Vegeta already half asleep. He switched off the lamp to join him, watching the last of the campfire embers flicker out to signal the day's end and a night of serenity, the first they'd experienced in a long time.
-:-
Wednesday~
Over the years, despite his disapproval of his neglected training, Piccolo had remained Gohan's respected confidant. When the eldest demi Saiyan ventured out to the desert to see him, the Kami-fusioned Namek knew that it was a serious matter.
"The women of this planet tend to worry too much when they become wives," Piccolo had stubbornly blown it off at first, but changed his mind when Gohan voiced his concern for his younger brother.
"That's what I thought, too, at first," his pupil had confided humbly, "I'm sorry to bother you here, Piccolo-san, but I need some objectivity."
Piccolo removed his cap to rub his head in thought, considering his student. Self-reliance had been the first skill he'd taught him, yet an old vision of gifting his small, unconscient form with his first sword and armor vividly returned. "Understood, Gohan. I'll see what I can do."
Relief flooded Gohan's face. "Thank you, Piccolo-san. I really appreciate it." He bowed and flew away, sure to be at work on time, with the hope of hearing that his concern was for naught.
-:-
As Gohan had reported, on the first two days, Piccolo had not been able to locate neither Goten's nor Vegeta's ki. Indeed, they obviously did not wish to be disturbed, but it was odd considering the possibility of an emergency.
Yet he was persistent, and on the following day, he managed to find them both near a lake that was a considerable distance from their unknown hideout.
Using a tactic that was unique to his Kami side, his form and ki were perfectly concealed behind the rocky ledge of a small foothill.
The sight of the Saiyan prince voluntarily seated behind an idle fishing pole with Goten was odd enough in itself, not to mention their familiar, relaxed demeanor.
The first few boring hours were uneventful, but the Namek's intuition to be patient proved to be more fruitful.
"I know phone games kinda suck, but here's one you might like," Piccolo's sharp ears heard Goten telling Vegeta as he passed him the said device.
Vegeta accepted it, critically inspecting the screen for an instant before changing programs. "No, this one."
"Doodle Jump?" Goten asked doubtfully over his shoulder.
"At least I can do something with it," Vegeta replied stubbornly, "Who cares about graphics, when all they do is tell you what to do, and you actually do nothing?"
"Well, okay," Goten conceded with a smirk, and they played their respective games, with an occasional glance at their fishing poles.
From his vantage point, Piccolo watched in confusion, wondering what Goten had done to him. Basically, from what he could tell, he'd convinced him to take a break. While he agreed with the general consensus that Vegeta needed one, he did not find the overtly familiar way Goten addressed him to be appropriate.
"Not so good this time, 'Geta," Goten commented playfully at hearing Doodle lose his virtual life.
Vegeta tossed the device aside. "Because my reflexes are shot to hell," he replied dully.
"They can't be as bad as mine were," Goten encouraged, "And you helped me get them back. Why won't you let me help you now?"
Vegeta shot him a stern glance. "How many times do I have to tell you? Nobody 'helps' me train."
"I just meant it could go faster with a partner," Goten back-pedalled hastily, but his voice trailed off with a hint of reproach, "I thought I was your equal now."
Vegeta sighed impatiently. "Don't start with that again. How do you think it makes you less equal?"
Piccolo froze at that point in their discourse, beginning to understand what Gohan meant.
"It's what I know people would say," Goten muttered, self-conscious about sounding so insecure.
"If you really cared about that, we wouldn't be here now, would we?" Vegeta pointed out.
"I guess not." Goten fidgeted with his sneakers, drawing random patterns in the sand.
Vegeta shook his head. "Idiot," he scoffed, but draped an arm around his waist.
Goten smiled, and leaned against the only person capable of reassuring him by calling him an idiot.
At his safe distance, Piccolo watched grimly as the two of them spoke, too low to be heard exactly, but of trivial, carefree matters. Perhaps what he'd witnessed actually meant nothing, he told himself, but words and gestures taken out of context.
Right.
At that moment, the two Saiyans paused in a silent look of meaning, and slowly leaned close. Their lips had barely touched when they were distracted.
"Looks like you got a bite," Goten pointed out encouragingly.
"So far, all I've 'caught' was an old shoe and a seaweed snag," Vegeta replied dryly, then firmly cupped his hand behind Goten's head. The latter gladly leaned close for a soft kiss, forgetting their poles.
"Hey!" Vegeta exclaimed suddenly as his fishing pole was dragged into the water. He ran after it, knee-deep into the lake to make a grab for it, but his prey on the other end was faster, and the pole disappeared underwater. Cursing, he dove after it, while Goten collapsed onto the sand in peals of laughter.
Moments later, a soaking wet Vegeta appeared, crossly carrying his now empty pole. "I can't believe the fucker escaped!" he declared angrily, "It was this big…" He measured about two feet with his hands. "The same kind we had yesterday."
"A c-catfish!" Goten reminded him, still laughing hysterically. "But I never saw one that big… ouch!" He clutched his aching sides.
Vegeta glared at him through narrowed eyes. "What's so funny?"
Goten caught his breath long enough to bet, "When you're done telling everyone about it, it'll be Moby Dick!"
"You don't believe me?" Vegeta demanded indignantly, causing Goten another laughing fit as he shook his head.
"I'm glad to hear you can do better, smartass, because we have nothing to eat yet." Vegeta's voice had suddenly calmed, before he lifted Goten off the sand, then tossed him into the middle of the lake.
"Hey!" Goten spluttered, flailing to tread water, "It's cold!"
"Bring bigger ones, so we don't have to cook as many," Vegeta called, smirking, "And if you find the one I lost, bring it back."
Goten pushed back his plastered hair, muttering curses before he dove underwater.
Despite the harrowing circumstances, Piccolo could not resist an entertained smirk from afar.
A few minutes later, Goten re-emerged with two fishes their own size. "Okay, fair enough," he acknowledged, not one to hold a grudge for so little.
"Not bad," Vegeta congratulated him.
Goten grinned. "No problem. Ready?"
Piccolo ducked into a tight crevice as they flew off, knowing it to be useless trying to find where they were going, and especially too risky.
When they'd gone, he sighed heavily. A bead of sweat had formed on his brow, not from any risk of being seen, but his current dilemma. Goten was in no danger, he rebounded his own thought, but frowned. That was not the question. As little tolerance as he had for diplomacy as for nonsense, what would he say to Gohan?
A new problem had appeared as well. Though he owed his old pupil the truth, it would cause Goten more trouble than the former seemed to realize. The latter would only turn seventeen in the summer, Gohan had confirmed, which was obviously the reason for their secrecy. This was not a clear-cut, black and white situation.
Laws, he remembered, were not something the Saiyan prince concerned himself with, but he obviously cared for the demi Saiyan. Gohan would certainly not do anything to add to their problems, and from what Goku had told him, Goten had gone through something terrible. Though now, it was Vegeta who had some serious difficulties.
He would let him know if or when he found what was going on, Piccolo had promised Gohan; then again, there was a lot he did not know, and partial knowledge did more harm than good. The wisest option at this point was to wait, he decided as he flew off back toward the desert. And to think.
-:-
After the first few days at the sakura place, Vegeta was happier than he'd ever seen him, Goten was elated to note. So was he, and neither wished to leave. He was glad that they hadn't decided when to return, as he would already be dreading it.
A small voice in the back of his mind whispered that it was too good to be true, but he refused to acknowledge it. They could come back here anytime, he affirmed, both to himself and to Vegeta.
They could not live in Hakuna Matata paradise forever, and the prince had no more throne to reclaim. But they had the right to be happy, didn't they?
As the native Saiyan had promised, he hadn't taken a single pill, and like Goten, he slept easily and well. Whether it was due to the latter's new rituals, sleeping together and carefree, the general peace of their getaway, or all of that, it was so.
He supposed that it was unrealistic to expect Vegeta to entirely refrain from training during their improvised vacation, but since he didn't overdo it, he didn't complain. He put in a few hours himself. After all, it wouldn't do to let himself become rusty. Even though it still consterned him that Vegeta persisted in only training alone, that was the way he was. Things would surely return to normal once the phase had passed.
The moon was becoming brighter as it waxed through its full week, rendering the place even more mysterious-looking at night.
"Do you believe what you said the other night?" Vegeta asked out of the blue, "That some part of us is better than what we actually are?"
Goten tilted his head in thought. "I meant our potential, in a good way," he explained. Decidedly, he would have to be more concise.
Both were quiet as they sat before their nightly campfire, where the billowy, cloying smoke of cedar wood kept insects away. Goten stoked the crackling embers beneath the small flames which would burn out on their own, and lifted the tent's entry flap invitingly.
Vegeta was fine with an early night, as the day had been far from lazy, and slipped gladly under the covers in the sleeping bag, and in Goten's arms. It was just where he wanted to be.
At first, the demi Saiyan was content to remain thus, while waiting for some hypothetical time when they would not have to sneak to do so. He was quite aware of the privilege he never thought he would ever have from Vegeta, and would not screw it up. But the other Saiyan's words, which contradicted the wishes of his face and body, made lust burn through his blood, and upgrade their makeout from casual to heated.
On one hand, it would be so easy and natural to take him right now, Vegeta thought; on the other, he still felt the innocent, spontaneous kiss of a naive thirteen year old, which he kept in the safest corners of his mind. Where the two thoughts overlapped was as exciting as it was uncomfortable.
Sensing his hesitation, Goten told him, "I guess we're both pretty sleepy, huh?"
"I get it when I can," Vegeta replied dryly, but stayed in the comfortable position he'd found in his initial embrace.
Knowing that each had his own idea of what 'it' was, Goten smiled, seeing his eyes already heavily closed. It was the first time he'd seen Vegeta go to sleep so quickly, which he decided was a good thing. They would stay until he was properly rested, Goten decided, and that, as long as it took.
Goten was awakened in the middle of the night by his partner's disturbed ki, taking a moment to focus in the dimly moonlit darkness to realize what was happening.
Vegeta tossed his head back and forth a couple of times before he sat up with a sharp, shuddering inhale. His breathing was heavy and ragged as though he'd been running, and his limbs trembled. He stared with wide eyes and shrunken pupils into the darkness at whatever terrible visions remained, clasping his knees in an effort to steady himself.
"Vegeta?" Goten asked carefully to steel his alarm, realizing the sort of nightmare it most likely was.
The former did not seem to hear him, stuck in the hellish world of his dream, perhaps a memory.
"It's over now," he tried again, not knowing the absurdity of his words to such a witness. "Vegeta?" He shook his arm.
Vegeta flinched at the well-meaning touch, wildly turning to see not Goten, but some horror in his mind's eye.
Violently he knocked Goten away from him, instinctively rolling out of the tent at a quiet noise outside. Without warning, he sent a deadly ki blast to the direction of the noise, causing a small group of terrified foxes to scamper to safety, just in time.
"It's okay, guys," Goten furtively called after them, but they'd fled back into the forest.
He waited grimly as Vegeta crouched to the ground, trying without much success to get a grip. Goten did not approach him now, but waited with the hope that he would snap out of it, at a loss of what to do.
Slowly, at least partial realization came back to the full-blooded Saiyan of where he was and with whom, which was alas of little solace to him.
Goten followed warily as he re-entered the tent and hastily turned on the lamp, his relief short-lived as he watched him rifle through his backpack to withdraw the bottle of pills. Grimly, he waited for him to dry-swallow a small, guessed handful.
"They'll kick in soon," Goten encouraged hesitantly, "I'll wait with you, okay?" He pulled back the covers and patted his side of the sleeping bag.
Vegeta's fingers trembled as he tried to close the bottle, but spilled the pills all over the canvas floor. He turned on Goten, yelling angrily, "Leave me alone! All of you… just leave me the fuck alone!"
'All of you?' It wasn't exactly anger in his voice, Goten realized, but watched, stunned despite having been warned, as Vegeta grabbed his hooded sweatshirt, then left, either forgetting or not caring about his shoes. It was more akin to horror that he'd seen in his face.
"Vegeta, wait!" Goten called after him, but he'd already vanished into dense forest. He knew better than to follow him, at least not yet. Still, he knelt to stare at the open tent flap, wondering what he should have done. There was surely something.
To occupy his mind, he gathered the spilt pills, biting his lip as he put them back in the bottle. A lump had risen in his throat, and tears stung his eyes, which he refused to let fall. He had no idea of what it would take to get him to talk to him. Sure, he knew who he was dealing with, but should he not be an exception to him? Couldn't he see that he understood, as his future mate of the same general bloodline? He did not expect him to speak at the time, and was not judging him.
Goten stared at the orange bottle, remembering his promise to never take another. The day he'd almost taken his own life, albeit accidentally, came back to him in vivid, unwanted detail. Not as much the events in themselves, but the cold, heavy, foreboding sense of despair that had seemed to permeate his bones. It had been cold. Not in the sense of temperature, as he could not even feel the chilly air since the fire had gone out. Another kind of cold, which he'd hoped to forget. Was it the same sort of cold that Vegeta felt all the time, to the point of being unaware of it? The circumstances were a far cry from being alike, but he was sure he could help Vegeta. If only he would let him try.
All he knew right then was that he could never sleep alone thus, knowing Vegeta was Kami only knew where, and in what state. Without thinking, he shook out what he knew to be a sufficient dose after a long period of abstinence, and took a fresh bottle of water. It was difficult making them go down his tightened throat, and he choked twice trying.
Still, it was not enough. From his small toiletry case in his backpack, he took out a cheap disposable razor of no legitimate use for most Saiyans, except that it caused less scarring than other sharp objects. He pried out the single blade, pushed back his left wristband, and mindfully sliced deliberate lines into the skin of his wrist to form the kanji for 'three'. 三 He repeated the pattern to make nine cuts, with a final underline of 'one'. 一 Ten lines, of course, evoking hell rather than heaven as he watched the rivelets of blood drip down until they slowly dried into ugly streaks.
The teasing sting of pain that accompanied the sight brought him a paradoxical satisfaction, heightened by the wrapped alcohol swipes as he cleaned up the mess. When the pills kicked in, the combined giddy numbness gave him his true fix.
Efficiently bandaging his wrist, he replaced his wristband and put away the items before crawling wearily to bed. Vegeta did not know about his cathartic stress reliever, and he would keep it that way.
Sleep brings counsel, as he'd always heard. He knew that was complete BS, but thinking in such a weary state was not possible.
He slid under the covers, trying not to look at the now empty side. The only thought he could manage was a silent plea, hoping Vegeta and whatever gods who looked on would hear: Please be okay.
-:-
For fox sake~
After turning restlessly for what seemed like all night, Goten drifted off to a restless hour's nap that left him more tired and ill-humored than if he hadn't bothered. Not as much time had passed as he'd thought, as it was still night when he opened his eyes and gave up, staring mindlessly at the canvas wall.
The late chirp of night birds and insects now seemed to be mocking him, reminding him of the time when he'd taken the damn pills to begin with. If he took another, it would not be the last, and he did not want to go back to the way he'd been at that time. He'd sworn to himself that if it ever got that bad again, he would pull the plug, knowing now that it would be final.
Vegeta had said to leave him alone, and he had, but enough was enough. From what he understood, it was nothing new, and he was reminded of the blizzard incident a few years back. It was sufficient to make him sit up and pull his sweatshirt and sneakers back on, then simply follow his ki.
It was quiet and subdued now, suggesting that he'd gone to sleep. He walked a long, seemingly random distance to another part of the forest he recognized.
Not knowing what to expect, he was nevertheless relieved to find Vegeta asleep under a large walnut tree, curled up on his side. At least he'd thought to put his sweatshirt on, with the hood pulled over his eyes to block the eventual sunlight.
Goten approached quietly, and paused with a faint smile despite himself to see a rusty-colored ball of fur curled up behind his knees. It lifted its head in recognition, placing one paw on Vegeta's leg.
/Good job, Kits,/ he thought, knowing that it heard him. It rested its head again, watching to see what happened.
Goten sat down quietly beside Vegeta, deciding not to disturb him. Though at sensing his presence, the other Saiyan pushed back his hood, and his eyes opened groggily.
Neither spoke. Goten reclined on one elbow, and the other Saiyan only reclosed his eyes halfway. Pacified, Goten took his place beside him. He decided to stay where they were, but Vegeta did not seem to be keen on sleep, looking thoughtfully into the distance.
"Everything okay?" Goten ventured.
The former nodded as though nothing had happened. "What creature is that?" he asked, noticing the furball behind his knees. It looked at him with calm, intelligent eyes, as though watching over him.
"A fox," Goten explained, "His name is Kitsune. Just a friend who stops by sometimes." He reached down to pet it and it nuzzled his hand, partially exposing its white belly. Its mouth stayed opened like a comical smile.
Vegeta watched the fox curiously. It was the same type of creature that had fled earlier that night. It looked partly canine and partly feline, but was clearly not a domestic animal. "Most of your friends are animals, aren't they?" he observed.
Goten nodded. "You'd like them if you got to know them. They never judge you like people do."
Vegeta considered him and the fox, who yawned before kneading its paws like a cat behind his knees. "You must have lots of pets out here," he commented.
"They're not really pets," Goten replied, "Want to see the others?"
"How many are there?" Vegeta asked.
"Most of them are probably hunting. We'll see." Goten made a strange calling noise, that sounded like a soft /ki-ki-ki./
In a few minutes, another fox, then three more, joined them, first peeking warily out of the brush to see who the other presence was. Noticing that Vegeta was with Goten and the other member of their family, they padded over to them.
Goten petted each of them, and casually introduced Vegeta. "Pet 'em," Goten encouraged, "They won't bite."
Vegeta complied to satisfy him, surprised to see them all recline in a pile around them, like miniature guards. A small one climbed onto Goten's shoulder. It was fascinated by Vegeta's flame-shaped hair, and spatted at it with its paw.
"What's it doing?" Vegeta asked flatly. Ordinarily he would have been annoyed, but only sounded weary.
"He wants to play," Goten explained. He watched as it sniffed Vegeta's nose, then layed beside him and began to lick the back of his hand. "Guess he likes you."
The rest of them settled down in a group by their legs and feet, deciding to take a nap. The kit flopped down where it was.
"They think we should sleep," Goten interpreted, noticing that Vegeta had already shut his eyes again. He did the same, satisfied for the time. He would find out what was going on, he was resolved. Every problem had a solution; why should this one be any exception?
/Don't you think so?/ he silently asked Kitsune.
The latter fox opened its eyes to look at Goten, and blinked. It placed its paw over Vegeta's leg again as the two Saiyans settled in, gazing into the distance.
-:-
The day after he'd secretly observed Vegeta and Goten, Piccolo flew toward the familiar large mountain near the Sons' house to find Goku, not feeling any wiser than the day before. Another may well have questioned his sanity for believing his old rival, and Goten's own father, to be the only one with a clear enough head to be a good sounding board for his thoughts, but his intuition never failed him.
In the past, as Gohan's little brother, Piccolo would most likely have kicked Goten's ass to the wished-back moon, but he sensed that there was more to the story than met the eye. He also sensed that Goku played a larger part in the said story than he knew.
The latter's ki was much easier to locate, and he found him in a barren clearing near the mountains. Goku appeared to be training, but Piccolo landed a slight distance away, puzzled as he watched him ki-blast a long tunnel through the grass and dirt, then shake his head.
"How did he do that?" Goku muttered to himself, before turning around, looking embarrassed at the presence of a witness.
"Goku, what the hell are you doing?" Piccolo demanded, staring at several similarly blasted tunnels, and shielded his face from the dusty air.
"Hey, Piccolo," Goku greeted casually, "I'm trying out a new technique, and failing miserably. What brings you here?"
"What kind of technique?" Piccolo asked, he being the one to scratch his head.
"An easy way to cut grass," Goku replied, making the Namek decide that he didn't want to know. "Nothing's wrong, I hope?"
"I have the same question," Piccolo began grimly, "Concerning Goten's excursion with Vegeta."
"Don't tell me anything happened to them?" Goku asked, frowning.
"No, nothing of the sort," Piccolo replied impatiently, but fell silent. He'd been standing right next to Goku when Vegeta had told them the same bullshit story, and wondered if the Earth's savior was really as naive as everyone thought, or knew something he didn't.
"Gohan asked me the same thing," Goku informed him, "Why, when you both thought it was a good idea a few days ago?"
What he would say to Gohan was another matter, but Piccolo was in no mood to turn around the pot at the moment. "Goku, do you really approve of what I think you know all that's really about?" he leveled with him in a lowered voice.
Goku sighed defeatedly, sitting down on a large rock. "What am I supposed to do, Piccolo, make them both hate me?"
Piccolo's opened his mouth soundlessly, that being the last thing he expected to hear, then shut it, his eyes narrowed. "How long have you known?" he asked gravely, somehow suspecting that ChiChi did not.
"Long ago," Goku confirmed, "Before they did, I think."
"How long ago?" Piccolo demanded, not about to drop it after such a revelation, and wondering just what else Goku knew about, while he apathetically allowed everyone to believe him to be oblivious to it all.
"A few years," Goku admitted, guessing his thought, "I trained with them both all the time, and saw what they went through, because they both have heads like a brick wall. I don't expect you to understand."
"Hold on," Piccolo cut in abruptly, "Goten is your son, and my opinion doesn't matter. I just don't know what to say to Gohan, because he and his wife suspect what we know, that I wish I didn't."
"I see," Goku mumbled, as though to himself. To Piccolo, he confided, "I don't know how Gohan would react."
"Exactly, and there's something else," Piccolo added, consterned, "I understood Vegeta is having some sort of difficulty concerning his training. If it's bad enough for him to mention… Of course, he wants no help from Goten, or anyone else."
Goku frowned. "What kind of difficulty?"
"He mentioned reflexes," Piccolo replied. "… What?" he asked at Goku's sudden look of alarm.
"I hope it's not what I think, and they get back sooner than later." Goku clenched his fists in his lap.
Both looked up at the presence of a third ki, seeing Trunks awkwardly approach.
"Sorry I'm late," the demi Saiyan said to Goku, and greeted, "Hello, Piccolo-san. I hope I'm not interrupting? I could come back later."
"It's fine, I was about to leave," Piccolo replied, but a glance at Goku told him that they would speak again later.
The full-blooded Saiyan nodded his acknowledgment to Piccolo, and told Trunks with a grin, "I guess I'm hopeless." He indicated the random tunnels of his failed attempts, making the younger male snicker.
Piccolo looked on, puzzled. "You're teaching him to cut grass with ki?"
"Yes," Trunks replied with a demonstration, leaving a patch of neatly cut grass.
Piccolo only shook his head. "A sure sign that you have too much time on your hands," he commented before he took to flight, not for the first time thinking that Earth was the most bizarre planet he'd ever encountered.
The two Saiyans exchanged an embarrassed glance, then burst out laughing.
"I hope I didn't make Piccolo-san think you're insane," Trunks said to him apologetically, stifling another laugh. He quickly looked down, blushing.
"Eh, he's seen worse," Goku assured him, his thoughts on the irony of very awkward timing.
-:-
One of Those Days~
Friday morning, Trunks awoke uncomfortably, without knowing why at first. Vague remnants of his dream, accompanied by a cold, wet stickiness beneath him, told the story.
In annoyed embarrassment, he pulled off the bottom sheet and dropped it aside to later put in the laundry himself, covering his head with his pillow. I did not just dream that! he mentally exclaimed, not ready to acknowledge the evidence to the contrary.
He'd planned on a few extra minutes to snooze, but that involved thinking about it. Frustrated, he reluctantly got up to bring his balled-up sheet to the washing machine, set the wash cycle, then hit the shower.
That helped somewhat, he acknowledged before getting dressed, and rubbed his hair dry.
"Trunks," his mother's stern voice called up the stairs, "Get down here. Now."
That tone of voice announced nothing holy, at least in his own regard, and he braced himself as he walked down into the kitchen.
"What?" Trunks asked at her angry glare, knowing that it was just going to be one of those days.
"I got a call from your tutor this morning," she began crisply, making him visibly cringe, "She said you've been skipping Thursday sessions, and don't deny it. You told me your schedule was changed - thanks for embarrassing me - and according to ChiChi, you told Goku the same thing, because you'd rather train with him. How nice to put him in such a bad spot. What gives?"
Trunks slumped, though his blood boiled with the thought of how triumphant the hauty woman had been to make such a call. "She hates my guts, and makes my life a living hell," he ranted back, "I don't even know why–"
"And you think that's how it works, you can just avoid a class every time you don't like a professor or a tutor," she cut him off accusingly, "You think you can get by in life like that? What kind of president will you make if you can't even handle a little diplomacy?"
"That's what it's really about," he muttered under his breath. Aloud, he shot back, "And Dad's pissed because my practice is cut short, so I can't win! Why don't you resolve your own fights, instead of using me as your pawn?"
"Don't change the subject!" her voice raised, "He's not here to answer that, because they're 'training'… yeah, that's it… This is about you, nobody else!"
Trunks threw his hands into the air. "Yes, it is! And Ms. Stick-Up-Her-Ass, who despises me when I never did anything to her! I'd gladly change for someone else - anyone else - but who cares, because there isn't another one!"
"I don't get it." Bulma stared at him in bewilderment. "You've always been a good student. Are you deliberately trying to screw it up?"
"No." Trunks stared back, the bewilderment being on him right then. "Running the company isn't what I wanted to do with my life, but then I don't know what else I'd do. I told you the problem, but nobody wants to hear it. Especially you."
She considered him for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, Trunks. It's true you've never had any problems before. If your tutor is really the problem, we'll look into it. But for now, you're stuck with her. If it's 'yes, ma'am,' and 'no, ma'am,' then make her happy and just focus on your work. I know it sucks, but for now, that's the way it is. Next Thursday, you'll apologize and get back to work."
"But, Mom!" Trunks objected reproachfully, furiously indignant at the mere thought.
"No 'but's, just do it," she told him, unmoved.
He thought for a moment, seeing the argument to be futile, but nodded, with plans of his own. "Fine," he acquiescenced, to her face.
"That's better. And if you don't, I'll hear about it," she left as a last warning.
"I said alright," Trunks repeated firmly, in no mood to hear any more. But he hesitated, rewinding the conversation. "Wait. What did you mean about Dad and Goten's training? Is something wrong?"
Bulma only rolled her eyes sarcastically. "Oh, just wait for that. I'm sure you'll be really happy to hear it one of these days."
He frowned at the memory. "It's true you don't know what happened with Goten. He had some pretty serious problems he wasn't proud of, so don't be too hard on him."
Bulma shook her head. "I think you've been around Goku too long, because it's rubbing off."
He shifted his feet uncomfortably. "I gotta go," he said quickly, "I'll be late." He glanced at the clock and grabbed his bag, hurrying out the door before anything else could be said.
Once outside, the cool air on his face reminded him of his purpose. A few Friday classes would pass quickly and easily. His real work was to take place in the computer lab. While the school's computers were equipped with the best anti-virus, anti-theft, and anti-spyware, they were a piece of cake for him to crack. While he had no ill intentions toward the school, there was some information he wanted, and right away. And that, he was determined to get.
-:-
Later that afternoon saw Trunks flying at full tilt toward the Sons' home. While on one hand it was the last place he felt comfortable going, on the other, the stack of papers in his hand was gold to him, and Goku was the only credible person to speak up for him. And something told him that Goku would.
He found the other Saiyan in the Sons' back yard at their small shed with a hammer in his hand, his tongue bitten in concentration as he proceeded to carefully hammer a nail in place.
Having set a few buckets on the floor to catch rain leaks, ChiChi had been asking him to fix some missing shingles for weeks, and he was finally doing so. Or trying, he corrected himself at watching the whole wall collapse.
"Hey, Goku-san," Trunks had begun, but cringed at the sight.
"Hi, Trunks," Goku returned the greeting, but slumped dejectedly. "I guess we can't be good at everything," he joked lightly, but his disappointment, not to mention dread of his wife's reaction, was clear in his face.
Trunks smiled despite himself. "How about a deal?" he proposed eagerly, "I can have that fixed in a few minutes, if you can help me out. What do you say?" He watched his face hopefully.
Goku brightened. "Sure thing!" he replied, his cheerfulness returning immediately.
"Great!" Trunks took his toolbox in hand. Indeed, after what looked to Goku like a blurr of tools flying, as their fighting skills appeared to others, the shed was as good as new.
"Wow… " Goku's eyes sparkled happily. "Thanks, buddy!" he exclaimed enthusiastically, "I'm not sure she'll believe I did that, but it'll save me a huge headache."
"Anytime." Trunks returned the grin, but set the toolbox down to hide his face.
"So, what do you need help with?" Goku asked, remembering his word as always.
Trunks' smile faded, but was quickly replaced by a devious triumph. "Remember I told you about my tutor who hates me?"
Goku nodded. "Yeah, I heard about that. What's it all about?"
"I'm sorry I lied about my schedule," Trunks began uncomfortably, "But she really hates me, and nobody believes me," Trunks confided, "But I swear, I never did anything to her. My grades are good, I've never been late, or talked bad to her, or anything. Gohan took it like a joke, Goten was like 'that's nice,' and my mom thought I skipped the class just to get out of it. Like, she says things to humiliate me in class, yells at me, gives me worse grades than I deserve, and gets me in trouble every chance she gets. She's a damn bitch," Trunks complained, though he hadn't meant to.
"Hm." Goku thought about it. "Maybe she's jealous of you."
"I wondered about that," he continued, "I wondered lots of things. Yesterday I was thinking, who is she to hate me for nothing, and I decided to find out. So I cracked a few databases and did a background check on her, and guess what? It turns out she's a former Capsule Corp employee, and was fired and sent to prison about ten years ago for embezzlement. She got out earlier for 'good behavior.' Now she goes by a fake name. I wonder how she was able to get any job at all, or what she might be planning."
Goku stared at him, his regard darkening. "You're right, Trunks, that's a serious crime. She has no business teaching. I'm sure your mother will see now. If not, I'll have a word with her. Also with this woman."
"Thanks," Trunks replied nervously, but his face turned angry. "I want payback for that. I can easily get her fired, or better, use it as blackmail. Then she'll have a good reason to hate me." He smirked at the thought.
Seeing his father's reflection in his anger, Goku admonished, "Nah, don't sink down to her level. Once the school finds out, she'll lose her job. Then they'll have to find your class a good tutor, who'll do their job right."
"You think so?" Trunks looked up at his face, reassured. "I'll show my mom when I get home. She'll have to believe me now."
Goku nodded confidently. "That's the best way. You want me to go with you, so she sees it's serious?"
He looked up into Goku's honest, caring eyes, and quickly back down at feeling his cheeks burn again.
"Uhm… I… " Trunks began, but lost his train of thought.
"No need to be embarrassed," Goku assured him, "I'll help you any way I can."
"Well, I… actually, I just needed some advice," Trunks faltered, "I bet ChiChi-san will be happy to see the shed's fixed."
"It'll be a surprise," Goku told him, "C'mon, I'll go back with you."
Though Trunks would have ordinarily taken offense at someone inferring that he needed help, Trunks found himself nodding.
"Back later, ChiChi," Goku called into the house, and before she could reply, he placed a hand on Trunks' back, and two fingers to his forehead. In the space of a blink, the two of them found themselves in the CC living room.
At their sudden presence, Bulma nearly jumped out of her skin. "Don't do that!" she exclaimed, one hand on her heart.
"Heh… sorry, Bulma," Goku replied sheepishly, as he often forgot the effect his sudden appearances had on others.
"Well, I did my homework," Trunks announced, "I think you'll find it interesting." He triumphantly handed his mother the stack of printed papers, before Goku cast him a proud smile.
Bulma accepted the papers, first questioningly, then looked doubtful as she began to read. Though when she turned the page to see the complete police report, her mouth dropped open.
"Holy shit!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening incredulously, "I remember this case! Dad!" she called into the lab.
Having overhead, Dr. Briefs joined them, and read over her shoulder. "Oh, dear." He wiped his glasses with a heavy sigh. "Indeed, the company suffered a terrible budget cut after that, and several employees left. Not to mention the scandal. That's a very disturbed young woman."
"You mean batshit crazy," Bulma added, paling as she stared at Trunks, "In court, she swore she'd get revenge, so who knows what she's planning." She paused. "How did you find all this information?"
Trunks shrugged. "Kind of intuition, and I kind of breached national security to find it."
"It sounds like national security's at risk," Goku added, looking considerably more alarmed at hearing the story confirmed.
Bulma slapped the papers onto a bookshelf in agreement. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you. First thing Monday morning, we're going to see your principal," she told Trunks, "After a trip to the police station."
"Unfortunately, I don't think the police can do much," Dr. Briefs told her, "Her prison sentence is over, and she hasn't at least been caught committing a new crime."
"Just identity fraud," Bulma retorted dryly, "And I don't mean the local boys in blue. I'm willing to bet my life the feds will dig up something. Even if not, I don't want that crazy broad around my kid. I'm sure the other parents won't, either."
"I can see her drama already," Trunks added sarcastically, "She 'did a dumb thing when she was young, now she's mature, and used a new name to make a fresh start.'" He imitated playing a violin. "And she is a drama queen. I can imagine the skeletons in her closet."
"Do you think she still wants revenge on the company?" Goku asked, thinking.
"Probably," Dr. Briefs reasoned, also deep in thought, "Why else would she hate a good student when the school knows who he is?"
Trunks had become quiet. As triumphant as he'd been about his discovery, which meant getting rid of a thorn in his side, the gravity of the situation was beyond his expectations. He began to worry for his family, as well as for the company's personnel.
Bulma glanced at her father. "We need to inform security, and call a meeting."
The elder scientist nodded, already on his way out through the connecting lab.
With similar thoughts, Goku's expression darkened again. "I'd like to speak to this woman on Monday, if you don't mind." He was merely being polite, not asking.
"Of course. Thanks, Goku," his old friend replied, but glanced uneasily at present company, each with the same thought. What the hell?
-:-
In the days that followed, the times seemed to pass without further incident.
Since, Kitsune returned every night to lightly sleep just outside their tent.
"Does your fox sleep here often?" Vegeta inquired one evening, watching him wash his paws by the fire.
"He kinda does what he wants," Goten shrugged off, "I think he wants to get to know you." He looked around and asked, "Are you hungry?"
"A little," Vegeta replied, remembering that they'd run out of snacks.
"I'll find something," Goten told him casually, "Back in a minute."
Vegeta nodded as he left, turning his attention to the mysterious fox. "What about you?" he asked it, now feeling a little less foolish talking to an animal, "I think there's more chicken left."
He ducked into the tent, returning with what was left from the roasts which Goten had picked up in the relatively nearest town, and began to shred the rest of the meat, skin, and cartilage. "I wonder how you get by out here without someone to de-bone your hunts," he commented dryly, but the fox waited patiently.
He wiped his hands on a rag and set out the plate of scraps, and Kitsune wolfed them down. He licked his chops, and padded over to nuzzle his hand.
"I guess you can't be any worse than people," Vegeta acknowledged thoughtfully.
Kitsune tilted his head, then slipped inside the tent, looking back to see if he would follow him.
Vegeta peeked inside to see the creature sit by his side of the sleeping bag, then place its paw on it. "No, we aren't going to bed yet," he told it, misinterpreting the gesture.
Kitsune flicked his ears and responded with three sharp barks, again tapping the sleeping bag.
Vegeta knelt and studied the creature at length, this time he being the one to tilt his head. Goten communicates with it somehow, he reflected. Sometimes he spoke aloud, but had told him it worked by thought. The cats back at Capsule Corp appeared to know when they could come into his room. Perhaps the fox was similar.
Kitsune only blinked, waiting.
/Do you hear me?/ he tried by thought, feeling absurd.
But Kitsune sat up, watching him attentively.
Vegeta wondered at what seemed to worry the animal, his unwanted thoughts returning almost gladly.
He'd taken it as a good sign that he'd found sleep so quickly that night; what he'd forgotten was that when he entered a dream too abruptly, it resulted in nightmares. Always the same themes, that played out in distortion as though on a loop, and left him sickened.
He didn't want Goten to know at all what badly clashed with the image he had of himself.
Kitsune trotted over to his side and stared at him expectantly.
"What?" Vegeta demanded, irritated at him for bringing back his ugly thoughts.
Kitsune sat to face him and tilted his head again. /…wasn't your imagination,/ Vegeta was sure he heard, somehow.
/What wasn't my imagination?/ Vegeta asked, staring with astonishment at the rusty-colored animal.
Satisfied, the fox watched him intently. /Finally. I've been trying to tell you…/ But the rest seemed to fade out beneath his perception.
/Tell me what? I can't 'hear.'/ Vegeta had learned to communicate with countless other beings during his life - usually to formulate threats or demand information - and knew that the fox understood that.
/Keep trying./ Kitsune addressed him in an insistant, respectful tone that lacked any of the artifice used by people. He'd understood that Vegeta was Goten's consort, and the dominant of them. It was not a question of preference, rather his code of ethics regarding hierarchy. The messages were received as automatic concepts rather than pronounced words, with few exceptions, such as names. /… if we find the same note,/ he was explaining.
'Note' as in music, or rather frequency? Vegeta wondered, again wishing he had a scouter. It was obsolete by now, but he knew the system well.
/Yes, frequency. It's better to learn on your own./
/You can hear my thoughts?/ Vegeta demanded, scowling.
/Only relevant ones,/ Kitsune assured him, and it somehow made sense. /I think you found it./ His ears flicked back encouragingly.
Vegeta concentrated, and was certain that he picked up a sign of distress.
He frowned. /Are you in some sort of trouble?/
Kitsune glanced anxiously outside at an almost inaudible noise, then back at him. /What you saw in your dream./
Vegeta stared at the animal, then frowned. /I don't remember much of it,/ he explained, /But how does my past affect you?/
/It doesn't. You picked up the threat, and saw your own idea of it./
/What threat?/ Vegeta was properly confused, and secretly a bit freaked out.
Kitsune's fluffy tail curled around his paws. /Danger is a constant for us,/ he stated simply, and looked at the ground. /Our lives are risky./
/Like us,/ Vegeta reflected. /What was going on?/
/Some renegade wolves almost killed my son,/ Kitsune told him, /If you hadn't intervened, my wife could not have defended him./
/I didn't,/ Vegeta replied flatly, /It must have been a coincidence./
Kitsune knew that, both from Goten and what he could tell himself. /It doesn't matter. Thank you, anyway./
Vegeta nodded. /And the other foxes that came to us. They're your family?/
/Yeah. My wife, our son and daughter, and my wife's sister. They were scared of you at first, but they like you./ He could have sworn that the creature smiled.
/Wait. You said my dream happened because I picked up your threat?/ Vegeta asked in confusion.
/It seems. Some beings have that ability,/ Kitsune told him, /You and Goten are the only people we know./
/His father and brother are a lot like him,/ Vegeta added thoughtfully, /Maybe they do./
Now he was sure that Kitsune smiled. /I know. He told me all about his world./
/Well, what happened with the wolves?/ Vegeta inquired.
/Goten gave them what he called an attitude adjustment./ Kitsune delicately groomed one paw, until he was satisfied.
Vegeta laughed despite himself.
/He's the only reason why our predators leave us alone./ Kitsune lowered his head as though in thought. /I'm about ten years old now,/ he continued, /It's possible for a fox to live to about fourteen, but most of us only live for two, maybe four years. Many here think I'm immortal./
Vegeta laughed at the image, and he was sure that the fox grinned before he perched onto his lap.
"Guess I'm doomed to be surrounded by animals all my life, then," Vegeta sighed in resignation, leaning back against a pile of cushions.
Goten returned to their site quickly with a bag filled with diverse fruit. Not seeing Vegeta outside, he looked in and smiled. "Glad to see you get along," he commented cheerfully, knowing that no one would believe him if he told them.
Vegeta was startled, not having heard him approach. "What did you bring?" he asked, seeing the full bag.
"Not many kinds." Goten emptied the fruit onto a large tray, separating it by type. "Too bad it isn't berry season yet. We'll just have to come back when it is," he commented.
"Sure, just for that," Vegeta added, but already counted on it.
Kitsune leaned his head forward to sniff the new food, and Goten gave him a striped plum. Fruit was not his favorite, but he ate it.
"He'll be disappointed if you don't," Goten told him, grinning at the sight of a fox on the prince's lap.
"That's your pet, not mine." Vegeta helped himself to a few rare varieties.
"Eh, not sure about that." Goten took a plum himself and looked at Kitsune, then burst out laughing.
"Now what?"
Goten calmed for a second to quote, "'I will eat them in a box, I will eat them with a fox... '"
"Oh gods, no!" Vegeta covered his face. "Bra made me read her that stupid book every day for a year. Just, no."
Goten raised an eyebrow. "She made you."
"I can tell you don't have any kids," Vegeta commented dryly.
"I wasn't the brightest light in biology class, but I'm sure I can't do that," Goten told him with a shudder. "But we have foxes."
"Most people are happy with a cat or a dog," Vegeta declared.
/You do, you like me, Sam-I-Am./
Vegeta glared at Kitsune. /Shut up./
-:-
Their vacation resumed as it was intended, with enough fishing humor to later entertain their families. The irony of it taking something terrible for his senpai to learn to appreciate activities he'd considered to be a waste of time did not escape Goten's attention; perhaps it was a blessing in disguise.
His training actually improved when he took the time to rest, Vegeta grudgingly acknowledged. He was more calm and focused.
They'd decided to stay longer than planned, and joked that perhaps they should just move there and be done with it. Or maybe it wasn't such a joke, each thought to himself.
"They're all going to flip, wondering where we are," Vegeta predicted, not sounding too concerned about the matter.
"Probably," Goten agreed, curiously peeking at his phone messages for the first time since they'd left. "Yipe," he muttered before quickly shutting it off.
Vegeta shot him an amused smirk before sliding an arm around his waist. They sat peacefully beneath the cherry tree late that evening, watching the petals that had begun to fall.
"I wouldn't mind staying here," Vegeta commented aloud, his half-smile fading.
"Good, 'cause you're not going anywhere," Goten told him seductively, winding his arms around him. He kissed him the way he liked, beginning slowly and softly, which would gradually heat up. Vegeta had no idea how adorable he was, Goten thought as always. The way he simply allowed Goten to kiss him drove the demi Saiyan crazy. He liked that, Goten knew, and locked his fingers in his thick hair.
Indeed, it brought Vegeta a curious thrill. He watched Goten through slitted eyes, stroking the skin of his cheek, which had remained as firm, slightly plump, and soft as a baby's. Coupled with his innocent expression that clashed awkwardly with his feverish hormones, it worked for Goten somehow, which made Vegeta feel as though he were under a spell. It was not at all unpleasant, he thought at the warm flush that had crept under the skin of his whole being, and unconsciously pulled him closer.
His thumb lightly skimmed a bruise that had remained on his cheekbone from when he'd blindly struck him in his nightmare. Yet the demi Saiyan held no grudge, or sought to prove that he didn't. A few of the petals that floated down grazed the ends of his shaggy hair, and one stuck to it, as though it belonged to him. The sakura tree was a lot like Goten. At once in their ephemeral prime, an air of ineffable sadness lingered within them, rendering them an untouched, fragile sort of quality.
Goten paused quietly with a similar thought of Vegeta beneath the mysteriously moonlit glow. Kintsukuroi, he recalled the term. Broken works of art were repaired with gold or silver, and considered to be even more beautiful having been broken. He wanted to be that gold which sealed the cracks, and so nobly rendered his deserved grace.
There was a heavy pause between them, both sensing what was about to happen. Vegeta's serious expression as he firmly cupped the back of his head made his pulse race at his new intention in their exchange, kept slow and deliberate as he was lowered to the ground's carpet of pink petals. He'd waited for so long to see that look in his eyes, without the damnable conflict that had always interrupted.
Not about to let the mood slip away, Goten tightly wound his legs around him, feeling the familiar heat swirling within him. Vegeta's weight above him and between his legs made his member begin to swell excitedly, and it was even more exhilarating to feel Vegeta's harden against his own. He could not help but squirm beneath him as their mutual sensitivity intensified, the unmistakable invitation shining in his eyes as their lips connected.
By then, Goten's balls were so tight and heavy, he was sure he could not walk if it were necessary.
Vegeta remembered more of their first kiss and of sleeping beside him than he acknowledged. Of course he'd wanted him, it had just been too soon. He unconsciously grasped his silky hair when his tongue slid meaningfully into his mouth, any doubts vanishing at the encouraging way he slowly squeezed his shoulders. He passed to catch his half-slitted, misty gaze in wonder, to be sure he hadn't imagined it.
"You are ready, aren't you?" Vegeta's tone became husky as he firmly stroked the demi Saiyan's muscular chest through his T-shirt.
"I always have been," Goten informed him, though all they'd lived seemed to have intentionally lead up to that very moment.
We're really gonna do it, Goten exclaimed excitedly to himself, his heart beating wildly.
It was not easy to keep his cool with Goten writhing so sexily beneath him while he grasped his hips, but Vegeta steadied him to slowly peel away the barrier of his clothing. The body of a god with such a sweet face was almost unfair, Vegeta thought as he paused to admire him, but a slow smirk graced his handsome face, knowing that he was as good as officially his. Had there ever been a question of that? He allowed Goten to remove his tank and sweats in turn, his gaze turning almost predatory at the lustful worship in the teen's eyes and eager hands.
Roughly he pinned Goten to the ground, liking his disappointed groan at the loss of contact where he so obviously needed it. Lightly Vegeta stroked the satiny skin of his rigid shaft, his mouth literally watering as he slid down his waiting body.
Goten's half-closed eyes snapped open to feel his tongue slowly lashing up the underside of his rigid member. He dared not move, to not miss the least of it.
Vegeta's tongue moved slowly up and down the underside of his rigid length, Goten's halting pants telling him he was doing it right. He moved up to swirl his tongue around the rim of his tip, then all over it, including his slit and the small nerve connecting the tip to the shaft.
Goten's hands entangled in his thick hair, which he kneaded approvingly at the dazzling new sensations. His small cries, timed with the sporadically clenching muscles of his thighs was driving his partner insane with lust.
A drop of pre-come leaked from his reddened tip, so Vegeta firmly clasped the base of his arousal with two fingers while continuing his ministrations. Such an act should not be so enjoyable, he thought as he engulfed him greedily into his mouth, his hand wrapped around what wouldn't fit. But who cared, it was.
Goten cried out sharply, and his trembling intensified. He knew it would be wonderful, but... His eyes squeezed shut while he alternated between softly kneading and yanking at his hair, as well as stroking and clawing his skin.
Firmly Vegeta held his hips down, kneading them encouragingly. "Relax," he told him, but could not resist an aroused smirk. He felt his own member jerk at his imagined scenario of binding him first. He was quite into that, he'd seen from his choice of manga.
While Goten was distracted by his dizzying vertigo of pleasure, Vegeta discretely coated his fingers with the lube he'd brought, and gradually wiggled in one finger, little by little. Only when he aggressively rubbed his magic point did Goten realize what was happening, and thrusted toward his talented mouth and fingers like there was no tomorrow.
"Vegeta, please let me...!" Tears of intense pleasure filled his eyes, and the mix of cruelty and stunning pleasure had control of his reeling senses. As badly as he needed release, he couldn't deny the wave of ecstasy he rode until he thought he would pass out.
Just as suddenly, Vegeta's fingers released their grip, and he sucked him deeply into his warm mouth with a lusty moan while his two fingers relentlessly hit his prostrate, fast and hard. "Oh fuck!" Otherwise, Goten was speechless. It was an earthquake of pure bliss that sparkled in his loins, then spread throughout his whole being. Did he want him to come like this?
Goten sobbed ecstatically as the sensations he'd coveted for so long finally washed over him, a vast ocean of delight...
He'd unconsciously ascended to Super Saiyan, glowing bright gold as it carried him so far out he was lost, then reassuringly back to shore with the only one he'd ever truly wanted. For as much as he'd powered up, his sparking release pulled only a soft groan from him. But the stars in his eyes told the real story.
"Thank you," he sighed, and curled up in Vegeta's arms.
The latter was amused by his choice of words, but understood. They made out calmly while Goten enjoyed his first real afterglow, but he could feel his lover's unsated lust as their makeout intensified.
Vegeta was not really paying attention when Goten turned him onto his back. At the moment, it didn't really matter what he did to him. His worry that Goten wouldn't actually know how had faded with time. He knew exactly what he was doing, and a little awkwardness as far as experience went only added to the charm. Vegeta didn't realize what Goten was doing right then until he'd moved down between his legs, gently taking his rigid length in hand.
"Goten, don't..." Vegeta began uncomfortably, but the demi Saiyan's tongue was already busy.
Goten firmly pushed him back down, and the sensations that followed changed his mind entirely. Slowly he stroked his silken hair, realizing just how much he did know. Stroking turned to hard kneading, then yanking while the demi's tongue teased him in the same way, until he was suspended somewhere between heaven and hell. His fingers gripped him a little too tightly, but it worked.
He hadn't wanted for Goten to do that yet, but how could he possibly resist now? Why should I? he thought as he moved closer and closer to the drunken ecstasy that beckoned teasingly without letting him attain it.
Any illusion of Goten's ignorance was long gone when his lubricated finger relentlessly hit his quivering bundle of nerves.
"Come on, get me... off!" Vegeta managed between halting pants. He was not supposed to deny him release for so long, he thought in bewildered frustration.
The demi Saiyan only gave him a him a lazy smirk as their gazes locked. "What were you telling me again about patience?" he asked innocently, "Seems I forgot." His tongue resumed circling his darkened tip that weeped for release, watching his come drip all the way down his throbbing shaft before delicately licking him clean.
"Goten, I swear...!" Vegeta hissed through his teeth, appearing less threatening with his desire-reddened cheeks and starry, glazed eyes.
Without warning, Goten's fingers let go, and he sucked him deeply yet gently into his exciting, warm mouth.
It was so nice to not be obligated to muffle their sounds, Vegeta thought dimly as he climbed the last steep inch (or mile?) toward his coveted climax.
When it finally washed over him, Vegeta was conscient of nothing else. The falling cherry petals against the full moon blurred into the prettiest lights as he released himself in Goten's mouth. The latter waited for him to ride out his climax entirely, before returning to his place. Vegeta's lightly shaking arms curved around him while Goten hid his face, and if stars had filled Vegeta's eyes before, now they held entire galaxies. Galaxies of pink and blue stars, he thought before his eyes closed.
Neither moved for a long time, until Goten's desire invariably kicked in again. He'd waited for this for so long, he wasn't about to miss a single thing.
Still, Vegeta smiled knowingly at the aroused hesitation in his face. "I hope you didn't change your mind," he commented innocently.
The demi Saiyan only growled sharply as he seized handfuls of Vegeta's already mussed hair.
Understanding, Vegeta lowered him back onto the ground for a fresh makeout, the satiny pink petals on the grass offering them a pleasant carpet.
Exploringly he caressed Goten's muscular curves, again admiring his perfect body, of which other adolescents only dreamed. "I want to try something," he told him unexpectedly.
Goten watched in confusion as he pulled on his training gloves, but understood when he began caressing his heated body.
He gasped at the rough texture of Vegeta's gloves on his intimate skin, and froze when he felt them playing with his nipples. He'd never felt anything like it, and his arousal jerked in response. The two were connected somehow, he realized, which was confirmed when his other hand lightly touched his swollen member and balls.
"I wonder if I could make you come like this," Vegeta asked aloud, proceeding to rub and pull at his hard nubs.
"Oh my God," the teen groaned softly, sure that he would blow his load any second.
"You like that?" Vegeta's voice had turned sultry, only wanting to hear him say so.
Goten could only nod speechlessly between shuddering gasps, but mentally filed the experience away for future use.
Vegeta's mouth alternated with one of his hands, among soft licks, sucking, biting, and contrasting strokes with cruel pulling. "What if I tied you up first?" Vegeta whispered hotly, "So I could make you come as long as I want, and there's nothing you could do about it."
"Yeah, do it," Goten replied immediately, very much wanting it again and so near another climax. As long as they'd waited, both were ridiculously horny, and more sensitive than than usual. As caught up as he was in the excitement, he had just noticed Vegeta's re-lubricated finger inching back into him. The first time, he'd been too distracted to notice or care, but now he hesitated.
"I'll be careful," Vegeta promised.
"I know, it's just kinda weird," Goten explained, though it felt much less weird when he stroked his magic place again.
Vegeta resumed playing with his nipples and loins with his gloved hand, setting him off again. When his pleasured sounds became desperate enough for him, he removed the glove, and placed his hardened member at his entrance.
Still panting a little, Goten reached for him, and felt him slowly begin to penetrate. He stilled, holding nervously onto Vegeta's back. He felt so vulnerable, which would dampen his enthusiasm another time. Not now, and not with Vegeta. The latter seemed to understand, and kissed him softly until he was all the way in. They paused with a secret smile as their union was being officially sealed.
Goten was very responsive in all good ways, Vegeta noted admiringly. Every small flinch, wait, or thrust told him exactly what to do. There was a little pain, which Goten did his best to hide. Still, Vegeta understood it all, proceeding carefully until Goten was thrusting back hard. He clasped Vegeta's hands, and brought them to either side of his head, willing him to catch on.
Smiling knowingly, Vegeta roughly pinned down his wrists while he thrusted hard into him, nearing climax himself at his partner's ecstatic cries.
Goten would do anything for him, he realized, and paused. "Let me see how horny you are," he prompted enticingly, "Show me how you get off when you think no one's watching."
Goten's eyes widened, blushing at such implications, but was too far gone to argue. Locking Vegeta's regard, he reached down to take hold of his aching shaft, which he pumped in time to his lover's thrusts.
"Yeah, that's it," Vegeta panted excitedly, having half expected him to refuse. The sight almost made him come too early, so he clenched the base of his own member as he trusted harder. The demi was so exciting he would kill him, he thought.
Both were too close now. Vegeta could feel his tight sheath contracting wildly around his rigid heat, and for Goten, being stretched so far and filled up with what he'd so longed for would surely cause him to implode with pleasure.
Vegeta pushed his hands away and fucked him hard. Goten yelped in pain a couple of times, so Vegeta stroked his shaft again at his rhythm. Goten relaxed, pain blurring back into pleasure, yet the position became difficult.
Vegeta flipped him facedown without withdrawing, and fucked him harder while Goten cried out ecstatically. He trusted hard back against him, their thigh muscles clenching wildly.
Sensing it was time, Vegeta took hold of Goten's leaking member, in wonder of how big he was, and wondering how he would feel inside him. He stroked him first gently, then harder at the same rhythm of his thrusts until both were nearly sobbing for release. Desperately wanton, Vegeta seized a handful of his generously shaggy hair, and yanked it back as they both groaned, thrusting as though there were no tomorrow.
The last image that blurred in their vision was the falling sakura petals against the majestuous full moon, becoming for their eyes a beautiful, starry supernova of ecstatic bliss as they released, Goten a few seconds before Vegeta.
Both relaxed onto the ground as they were, their limbs trembling from the effort as they rode out their afterglow.
This was it, Goten thought with elation; he was Vegeta's now, and no one or nothing could change that. He reached for his now official lover, realizing also that only the final step had been crossed. He'd been his all along. Vegeta's satisfied smile alone told him that. Goten whispered a request to him, unsure whether he would accept, but to his pleasant surprise, Vegeta nodded without hesitation. Of course, he was also Goten's; and yes, he could physically make it so.
-:-
A couple of days after he'd last spoke to Goku, Piccolo landed a safe distance from any witnesses in the suburb of Satan City, pulling down the visor of his baseball cap. Sweatpants and a lightweight jacket covered his T-shirt and green skin, the same outfit Goku had given him years ago. "Ridiculous," he muttered to himself, wondering what he would not do for Gohan.
He paused at their mailbox and took out a handful of envelopes, then knocked.
Promptly, Videl opened the door with Gohan behind her, both smiling in recognition. "Good morning, Piccolo-san," Videl greeted pleasantly, echoed by her husband.
"'Postboy's appointed rounds," he announced dryly after a nod, and placed their mail in Gohan's hands.
The latter grinned and accepted it. "Make yourself at home," he bade, and Piccolo followed them to their spacious living room.
"Excuse me while I clean up. I'm all mucky from the garden." Videl apologetically held up a pair of dirt-covered gardening gloves.
"No problem, Videl," Piccolo replied kindly, acknowledging her discretion as he watched her retreat. "About your question," he said to Gohan, to the point as always.
The latter's face sobered, and he nodded.
"It did take me awhile to see them," he began, "I'm not sure exactly what you were expecting, but I didn't get the impression it was anything dramatic."
Gohan looked confused, clearly wondering if he'd ventured into civilization to tell him that. "Well, what were they doing? What's going on?"
"They were fishing at a lake, at the other end of the globe," Piccolo reported simply, "Goten is more familiar with Vegeta than I realized, but it sounded like one or both of them just needed to get away from things."
Gohan shook his head. "What are you getting at?"
Piccolo folded his arms and firmly told him, "I think it's time to let your brother grow up, and accept the decisions he makes for his own life. You can't stand over him forever."
Gohan nodded with a grim half-smile. "It would be you who tells me that." In other words, it was not his business, he interpreted, sifting mindlessly through the stack of bills. A colorful postcard stood out, and he paused to read the short, cheerful greeting from Goten. "Interesting timing," he commented, and handed it to Piccolo.
The Namek gave it a once over. "That's nowhere near where I saw them. They must have moved a lot."
"Probably." Gohan looked at the postcard again. "Well, what do you think I should do?"
"If Vegeta tells you about his fish, pretend to believe him," Piccolo replied, deadpan.
Gohan blinked. "Okay." He hadn't thought Goten would take the idea literally.
-:-
One could tell when the one lying beside him was not asleep, Vegeta thought with a glance at Goten's dark silhouette in the waning moonlight. He could tell by his unsettled ki, and silence in place of his soft, even breathing.
He reached out to give his shoulder a questioning squeeze. "Can't sleep?"
"Dunno," Goten mumbled dully. He glanced back at Vegeta, but quickly averted his eyes and bit his lip.
Vegeta propped up his head, not especially sleepy himself. "Is something wrong?"
"I don't want to leave." Goten stared emptily at their bags, packed and ready for their departure the next day. They looked sober and forlorn to him. They'd ended up staying for over two weeks, though they'd told the others it would be closer to a week.
"We'll be back," Vegeta encouraged, "Didn't I promise?"
"It's not that." Goten turned to hold onto his arm, hiding his face in his sweatshirt. "I don't mean to be clingy, but… I can't describe it."
He'd been thus since they'd made it physically official between them, Vegeta noticed, and slid his other arm around his neck. "I know what you mean."
"It's what you said," Goten pointed out.
"Just not in public," Vegeta reminded him, which earned him at least a slight smile.
But Goten had forgotten the humor. "I'm just tired of always needing an excuse," he explained, "It's gonna be worse now."
Vegeta frowned. "Why do you say that?"
"I don't know." Goten fell silent, listening to the rain pattering on the canvas roof. They'd said goodbye to Kitsune and his clan early that evening, as they did not like the rain.
"We'll think of something, okay?" Vegeta tilted up his face for the kind of kiss that made him forget everything else, and Goten gladly leaned into it, wrapping him tightly in his limbs.
"Can we do it again?" he asked hopefully
"We did twice tonight" Vegeta reminded him doubtfully, "Doesn't that hurt?"
"A little," Goten admitted, "But I don't mind."
"Hn. I'm still sore from your turn the other night," Vegeta commented.
"Sorry," Goten appealed, "I got too excited."
"In the morning, okay? Turn around."
Goten complied, surprised when Vegeta began rhythmically stroking his hair. He stilled at the pleasant tingling, and relaxed onto his pillow, with one of his senpai's arms still around him. He hadn't known Vegeta could do that, but he apparently caught on fast.
Goten sighed, and his eyes closed contentedly after a few minutes. /Don't stop,/ he silently appealed. Vegeta did not, until he was sure the demi Saiyan was sound asleep, then kissed him softly.
Goten wondered why he only kissed him that way when he was asleep, but had no complaints. During such times, their usual worries seemed so far away and irrelevant. If only they would stay there.
-:-
The sky appeared dismally bleak and and cloudy to Goten as he and Vegeta flew back to the real world Saturday morning, with a brisk chill in the air. It was fitting, he thought glumly.
Vegeta had said almost nothing, especially hating conversation when no one knew what to say, and so both remained silent.
Only when mutually familiar territory was visible below, Goten asked, "Well, what should we do?"
Vegeta glanced at him. "Act normal. Go back to your house, complain how I put you through hell, and how exhausted you are."
Goten scowled. "That doesn't seem right."
"You're right, we should go tell your parents all about it," Vegeta drawled sarcastically. At the demi Saiyan's sullen glare, he added, "It will get you out of questions."
Goten thought about it, reluctantly acknowledging that he had a point. Both going to the same place would not look good, and neither were in the mood for more pretenses.
Silence returned until they reached a dusty canyon, where their paths separated. They hovered awkwardly in place, and Goten asked, "See you tomorrow, then?"
"Yeah." Vegeta hesitated, then scowled before he pulled Goten close for a quick, hard kiss.
The warm flush gave the demi Saiyan
some encouragement, and he managed a smile before he turned and flew off toward the large mountain considered to be the landmark of the Sons' home. Thus, he would not have to watch Vegeta leave.
The latter, however, watched him thoughtfully. They would not be the same, and had not been for the last week. Whether it was due to making their union physically official, the time they'd spent together in what was now their place, or something that eluded them, it had happened insidiously.
Maybe he was a hypocrite, he thought. As firmly as he'd insisted on waiting, was it really such a big deal? They'd gradually taken their exchanges a little farther over time, and the final step did not seem to be such a drastic gap; a bit like the stepping stones Goten had built over the river. In a sense, they'd done the same.
What the big deal was was in themselves, Vegeta realized. Though Goten's airborne form became a small dot in the gray sky before disappearing from his view, he did not sense him gone any more than when he'd been right next to him. It was like a strong, invisible cord that connected their ki, which had been there for longer than he'd been willing to acknowledge. Ki could be detected. As that were a fact, could such a connection between their ki be picked up as well?
It would not be possible to keep their relationship a secret forever, or even for much longer, they knew. Yet they must for another year.
Vegeta slowly flew back toward West City, lost in thought. He was in no particular hurry, either.
-:-
The door to the Sons' house was unlocked, meaning at least one of his parents was home. Goten casually entered with his backpack slung over one shoulder, and announced, "I'm back."
ChiChi looked up from her armchair, where she was reading a novel. "It's about time!" she declared, "Why didn't you call, if you were gonna stay so long?"
"I sent you a postcard," Goten replied.
"Yeah, we got it yesterday," she informed him flatly, "Nobody knew where the hell you were!"
"I told you before we left. What's the big deal?"
ChiChi's face was slightly pinched as she contemplated him, adding quietly, "I don't know, Goten, but I don't like it."
"Don't like what?" Goten blinked, a picture of innocence. "You said you wanted me to train more."
To his relief, Goku stepped in from outside before she could say more. "Hey, Goten, glad you're back," he greeted him cheerfully, "How'd it go?"
"My muscles hurt and I'm tired, but in one piece," Goten replied with a theatrical yawn, "What's going on here?"
"The same, but Trunks' problem with his tutor's worse than we thought," Goku told him.
Goten paused. "What happened?"
Goku filled him in, looking unusually concerned.
Goten shook his head. "I knew she's a douche, but wow."
ChiChi added to Goku, "Bulma should let me have a talk with that bitch instead of you. I have experience dealing with corrupt tutors. Ask Gohan."
No one reminded her that Goku's naive appearance made people relax around him, believing themselves to be superior, and let slip what they normally would not.
The latter smiled, then remembered, "Oh yeah, Goten. Gohan wants to see you, and he's got the weekend off. Why don't you go tomorrow."
Goten indeed wasn't up for another long flight, but gladly pounced on a perfect excuse to leave. "I could stop by today," he replied, "It'll make tomorrow less busy."
"But you just got here!" ChiChi exclaimed, "It's like you're avoiding us."
"No, I'm just busy," Goten replied simply, "Mom, you wanted Gohan to become a scholar. You wanted me to be a fighter like Dad. Don't we both respect what you intended for us?"
Goku and ChiChi blinked at the unusually dutiful way Goten had spoken, and his mother folded her arms suspiciously. "I never know what to expect from you anymore."
"Well, I might as well go while I got my stuff," Goten stated lightly, "If I settle in, I'm done for the day."
That sounded more accurate to ChiChi. "You'll be back for dinner, at least?"
"Yeah, I won't be long." Goten glanced at the clock and waved.
Goku caught up with him outside. "I meant to ask," he began, and lowered his voice, "Piccolo overheard you guys talking. Is Vegeta really having problems with his training?"
Goten scowled. That was for him to deal with, not his father. Holding his offense in check, he only replied, "I don't think so. He's just never happy with it."
"Are you sure?" Goku asked doubtfully, "That wasn't Piccolo's impression."
Goten glanced sidelong at him, frowning. "Wait, where'd he hear that?"
"Capsule Corp, apparently. If he mentioned it, it's not nothing." Goku almost never looked that concerned, making Goten wonder what else the Namek had told him, and why he cared. In any case, he was leaning on his patience.
"Okay, why don't you go ask him and offer to help?" Goten snapped sarcastically, "I'm sure you'll be really surprised how that goes."
Goku watched him, puzzled at his irritation. "It's you I'm asking, not him. What are you mad about?"
"I'm not, I'm tired," Goten returned shortly, "Look, I'll be back in the afternoon, 'cause I want a nap."
"Sure," Goku accepted lightly, adding in a lowered voice, "Be careful." His serious expression suggested that he knew what he was saying, on a different subject.
Goten nodded, then took to the air. His fatigue was quite real, beyond mere sleepiness.
-:-
The reception at Gohan's place was more lighthearted, to his relief. Pan immediately pounced on her uncle's lap when he sat down.
"Well, did you have a nice time?" Gohan asked.
Videl set out a steaming pot of Oolong tea, and handed Goten his cup. He nodded his thanks and replied, "It was cool. I bet you guys are glad for the weekends."
"Definitely," Videl replied, "Someone else here needs to chill out, too." She cuffed Gohan's head, who grinned.
"And I'm not training because I'm busy sitting on my butt," Gohan stated in mock defiance, "And I'm enjoying it, too."
Goten snickered. "Okay with me."
"Did you get to do anything fun?" Videl asked him, "Tell us, so we can settle our bet."
"Well, we never did find Vegeta's two thousand pound catfish," Goten told them, to the group's amusement. Gohan triumphantly held out his hand to Videl, who shook her head as she reached into her purse and placed a crisp new bill in his hand.
"How big is that?" Pan wanted to know.
"Like your mom's car," Goten told her.
"Oh." Pan thought about it. "But Oji-san, that wouldn't fit in a lake. Would it?"
Goten laughed. "Don't tell him that."
"I'm glad it got away," she informed him stubbornly.
Gohan and Videl had decided to say nothing more about their previous discussion, and the group spoke of light matters. Goten told them what Goku had said about Trunks' tutor, and their eyes widened.
"Dang," Gohan muttered to himself. Aloud, he told them, "Trunks must think I blew him off. You're right, she must have something up her sleeve."
"I'm glad your dad is helping out," Videl said to the brothers, "He is the most tactful."
After Goten had indulged Pan with a video game match, Gohan motioned for him to follow him to his office.
"About the research you asked me for, I found a book that explains it well," the latter told him, and reached into a drawer, "It's pretty easy to read."
Goten nodded and inspected the book. It was entitled, 'Combat Stress Reaction in War Veterans.' The jacket specified that the author was a respected M.D. psychiatrist and had written many other books, and included several rave reviews. So it was really a thing. A specialist knew what he was talking about, Goten figured, and slipped it into his backpack. "Thanks. That'll give me something to read before my nap."
Gohan nodded, though his face was unreadable. "You know you're welcome to stay for dinner," he offered, "But I know how Mom is, and you probably do want to rest."
"Yeah." Goten glanced at the clock as they returned to the entryway, noting that he had just enough time for that. "I can stop by next weekend, though."
"Sure. Take care of yourself," Gohan bade him, "And tell Trunks to let me know what's going on there."
"Will do. You too, bro."
With conflicting thoughts, Gohan watched him leave, then fly off once he was out of general sight. Was it true about him and Vegeta, and if so, what did that change for himself?
He wandered back into the house, past the laundry room. Seeing a mound of his clean socks placed in a basket, he carried it back to the master bedroom. Whether it was true or not, he was the same as always, he thought, and nothing in his behavior suggested either way. If they'd kept such a secret for very long, doubtless he was used to that by now.
Maybe Videl was mistaken, and it was nothing unusual at all, he reflected as he placed his socks neatly in his drawer. Piccolo was right, he decided. Goten had to make his own decisions, and he should respect that. The real problem was not his opinion, but that of their parents and Vegeta's own family. He internally cringed at the thought, either way hoping he knew what he was doing.
Gohan thought of the book Goten had asked for, and frowned. Anyone could see through the blatant 'I have a friend who,' and another idea occurred to him. He knew that Vegeta wasn't aware of it, nor would he tolerate any help from anyone. Did Goten know something no one else did, and how? There was certainly more to the story than he knew, and he would give more than a penny for his father's and Piccolo's thoughts.
He paused to lift a rarely used pillowcase, smoothing out his Great Saiyaman outfit, and smiled.
-:-
Arriving home in the afternoon, Goten had no trouble eclipsing for a nap, after gathering a handful of snacks from the kitchen to squirrel up to his room.
"Don't make a mess like last time," ChiChi called after him, "You weren't raised in a tent, you know."
"Sure, Mom," Goten called back with an amused smile. He set the lot on his nightstand and sat cross-legged on his bed, opening his soda and a bag of chips.
He took the book from his bag, seeing the library bar code on its spine. Gohan would tear him a new asshole if he damaged a library book, so he finished his snack first.
Though reading non-manga books was not in his habits, he opened it and began reading.
It began with a simplified definition, symptoms, history, then further explanations accompanied by anonymous case studies. It was even more rare for a book to catch his interest, but he read it straight through:
[Combat Stress Versus Post Traumatic Stress Disorder]
['This section describes the similarities and differences of combat stress and posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) to help you prevent or effectively manage both.']
['It seems like the terms combat stress and PTSD are everywhere these days; it's hard to go a few days without seeing a news story about veterans and these issues. But what are these concepts? Do they mean the same thing? And perhaps most important, what can be done?']
['Combat stress and PTSD are very different things. Unfortunately, sometimes they look quite similar, which makes their definition somewhat complicated.']
['By definition, combat stress is an expected and predictable reaction to combat experiences. After being in a combat zone where people are under constant physiological stress (for example, poor diet, extreme temperatures, little opportunity for good personal hygiene, etc.) and psychological stress (for example, concerns about the presence of improvised explosive devices, snipers, or the death of fellow service members), it is expected that most people will experience a number of responses.']
['These responses often show up as hyperstartle (that exaggerated response when something surprises you — often a loud noise), hypervigilance (being always on guard or super-alert), bad dreams/nightmares, irritability, sleep problems, etc. While these sound negative, some of these reactions are actually considered adaptive, notably hyperstartle and hypervigilance, as well as other benefits of combat stress, including increased physical strength, better endurance, and enhanced feelings of competency (not all combat stress is bad).']
['PTSD, on the other hand, refers to a psychiatric disorder which impairs functioning. It is considered very serious, whereas combat stress is considered standard']
['To receive a diagnosis of PTSD, a number of specific symptoms have to be present following a traumatic event in which death, serious injury, or sexual violation occurred or was a real possibility. This can be in the context of warfare, or any other situation that may cause trauma, both among soldiers and civilians. These include re-experiencing symptoms (such as recurrent dreams, flashbacks, or intrusive images), avoidance symptoms (such as avoiding conversations about the event or people associated with the event, memory loss, etc.) as well as other problems such as sleep disturbance, irritability/anger, concentration difficulties, hypervigilance or hyperstartle.']
['You'll notice some overlap between combat stress responses and PTSD symptoms, but that doesn't mean they are addressed in the same way. Keep in mind that combat stress isn't considered a medical problem or something that needs treatment. For many war veterans, combat stress simply wears off after being back home for a few weeks to months. However, if affected service members are not treated and/or symptoms persist, combat stress itself can persist or morph into a more serious condition (ex. PTSD, depression, an alcohol problem, etc.) Letting people know what responses are expected and giving some brief education about them can help to prevent further problems.']
The more he read, Goten felt his face drain of color, and he wondered if he even breathed.
What about Saiyans? What's the cure? he silently demanded.
So many of the signs seemed to stand out in angry, accusing red letters. As closely as they seemed to nail his questions, they could also be mistaken for other things, and the initial onset was said to be normal. Could that be Vegeta's case? Or Gohan's?
['I don't think it's a disorder,' one diagnosed veteran had replied to his interviewer, 'I lost my best friend to a landmine, and saw my whole platoon get bombarded. Sometimes I still hear the screams and explosions, so I can't even watch fireworks with my family. I mean, you'd almost have to be a sociopath not to be bothered by the s*** that happens in war.']
He read on, disheartened despite the optimistic note that the condition could be treated by a professional with medication, cognitive behavioral therapy, and a scary-sounding exposure therapy called EMDR.
Well doc, you see I'm not from around here, it started back when we fought an evil overlord who destroyed our planet, he thought sarcastically.
Goten read as much as he could, impatiently skipping some of the case studies which he found repetitive, until his eyes began to close on their own. He marked his page and slid the book under his pillow, vowing not say a word to Vegeta.
He'd hoped to find some encouragement in the reading, he thought bitterly. He did not need a specialist to tell him that he himself could not fix the problem, but who could? How in the hell could anything be done when they could not tell anyone at all, and his senpai would not, anyway. His only remaining hope was that he was wrong, and that Saiyans were immune to such things. Otherwise, we're natural sociopaths, he thought dryly.
Goten allowed himself to sleep off his fatigue, trying not to think of the fact that he was alone in his small twin bed. His dreams that followed may have qualified for one of the printed criterion.
-:-
West City~
The next day after lunch, Goten arrived habitually at Capsule Corp, as they'd planned.
Bulma gave him a puzzled look. "What happened to your arm?" she inquired at the splint wrap he wore.
"I fell out of a tree," he replied cheerfully, and asked, "Is Trunks here?"
"Upstairs." She blinked. "How in the hell did you do that?"
"Guess I wasn't paying attention," he shrugged off with a spiteful smirk, ignoring Vegeta's sharp glare from the hallway.
It seemed to be lost on her, as she only muttered, "O-kay," deciding not to ask.
Goten headed to the stairway, intercepted by Vegeta. "What the hell is that all about?" he hissed under his breath.
"Passive-aggressive gaslighting," he muttered back, remembering a term he'd read about in Gohan's book.
"What?"
"Later," he prompted, adding, "There's a black and white movie called 'Gaslight' that I'd like to see. Can we rent it?"
"I guess," Vegeta agreed, by dislike of expressions that he did not understand. In a normal tone, he demanded, "Are you ready? You're late."
"Yeah, I just want to ask Trunks about his tutor," Goten explained, "Did they tell you about that?"
Vegeta scowled. "Yes, and I still don't see why they're sending your father to talk to her."
"First, because we never know when you're here," Bulma repeated, having overheard, "Second, Goku knows how to be subtle."
"You mean he's an idiot," Vegeta retorted, "Or he lets people think so."
"I wouldn't put it that way, but yeah." She looked at Goten again in confusion, and went back to the lab.
"Hurry up, then," Vegeta told him impatiently, and walked away mumbling, 'gaslighting.'"
-:-
Goten curiously walked upstairs and knocked on Trunks' door. It still seemed awkward to knock, but they'd become accustomed to odd circumstances.
Trunks knew why Goten had been lent another spare room in Vegeta's suite to begin with, but did not understand why he still slept there. Everyone he asked gave him a different answer, which made him wonder what else was below a very ironic iceberg.
Recognizing his ki, Trunks opened it. "Hey," he greeted him, "You just got back yesterday?"
Goten nodded. "Had most of the day off. Before I forget, Gohan wants to talk to you."
"Sure." Trunks hesitated, also looking puzzled. "What were you doing all that time?"
"He thinks I need to focus more," Goten replied, sticking to their story, "So, what exactly happened with the tutor? How'd you find all that out?"
He took a seat on one of the floor cushions, and Trunks told the story, again. "Maybe I should just make a recording," he concluded.
"I bet. How did my dad get involved, though?" One of his mother's complaints was that he was never around for such things.
"He knew because I skipped her class to train with him," Trunks replied simply.
Goten nodded, knowing that neither his father nor Vegeta would not see that as a true offense. "Good choice for an alibi," he complimented.
Trunks grinned. "I'm not murdering anyone, just going to make her wish she was dead."
They laughed, but the conversation was cut short when Vegeta yelled for them to get their asses down for practice.
"Okay, geez!" Trunks yelled back, and finished adjusting his gi. "C'mon then, before we get a death wish."
Trunks still wondered why his father did not train with Goten and himself anymore, and asked Goten if he'd learned the reason.
"All I know is he isn't happy with his progress," Goten again pretended to guess, which wasn't actually a lie, "It's probably nothing, though."
"Probably," Trunks agreed. He watched him during their practice, trying to understand what was amiss. Predictably, Goten had become stronger and faster than himself, and his technique had changed. It was more like his father's now than Goku's, though his Kame-school foundation was evident. He also wondered with more than a little jealousy if the other demi Saiyan realized his potential to become the strongest of the remaining Saiyans. The only thing preventing that was his own mind, which he didn't seem to realize, either.
His father had been extremely jealous of Goten when they'd been kids, Trunks recalled, yet he hadn't made an enemy of him. Goten had become the son he'd really wanted, he thought bitterly, because he himself could not make both of his parents happy. 'Son' did not really fit, just as nothing did fit lately. Their families seemed to make up a half blind entity, whose right hand didn't know what the left hand was doing.
-:-
Vegeta had a similar thought when he was able to speak with Goten after practice that evening. They settled for an antichambre of the Gravity Room, which did not have a particular purpose, but there were no cameras.
"What's going on?" The other Saiyan's heavy silences did not always mean something was wrong, which Goten had learned to sense.
"I'd rather you didn't repeat this to anyone, but as you know, I still monitor your progress," Vegeta began, "What some of the others think are faults, are just opportunities they don't have."
"What do you mean exactly?" Goten asked.
Vegeta turned from the small window, where he watched nothing but the beginning sunset. "You've made better progress than I expected. Otherwise, I would see you as another rival."
"Really?" That was a compliment if Goten had ever heard one.
"It's time to look at what you have," Vegeta continued, "Nothing to interfere, and no less than both me and your father, except for the experience. That almost always comes at a bad time. In some ways, you get stronger; in others, something is lost. But it doesn't have to be like that, in case you wondered why I make your training difficult. Your only setback is that you're getting in your own way, because you don't truly know what you can do." It frustrated the hell out of him, he needn't add.
"How so?" Goten asked, but he was listening attentively.
"I want you to be the next strongest Saiyan, Goten," Vegeta stated.
He blinked, at a loss for words, and wondered if he'd even said that to Trunks. "Me?"
"If you are the strongest, you don't have to be," Vegeta concluded, "But I think you can. All you need to do is decide you will, if you really accept."
Goten froze, humbled to hear that from Vegeta, and its deeper meaning. Despite what he knew to be facts, and what they entailed, he nodded with a bow and replied formally, "Thank you, I accept. I'll do my best."
-:-
The next few days went by as mere routine, on the surface. Goten spent his time between his own home and Capsule Corp, and his parents were satisfied with Vegeta's grudgingly positive report on his training. ChiChi was happy that Goten was busy doing something, so that coast was clear.
Alone in their hidden forest, Vegeta had found it easy to rest, and thus to better focus on his techniques. It was not so at Capsule Corp, where he spent too much time dodging annoyances. He, too, wished they could do away with the secrecy. It reminded him too much of the Icejin occupation, when the slightest error could cost one their life, or worse. Such was not the case now, but it leaned on his nerves just the same.
One day during a break, Vegeta looked for a distraction to kill his boredom. Goten had left with Trunks to see Gohan, so he wandered into his room for something to read.
He knew where his X-rated manga were hidden, and looked to see if there was anything new. Goten knew he read them, but neither said anything.
He shook his head in vague amusement to see an actual book among them. It was certainly to camouflage what the others were, as it was not his style to read. He was about to set it aside, when its title caught his eye.
... The hell?
Frowning, he forgot about his initial search and brought it back to his room. Psycho-babble about war veterans. That would explain the demi Saiyan's odd questions of late, he thought impatiently, and out of morbid curiosity, he began to read.
-:-
Later that evening when the household had settled down, Vegeta knocked on the door to the spare room that was Goten's for the time being.
"Come in," Goten called. He was idly playing his game console, and looked up hopefully when he entered and closed the door. However, his stern expression made his smile fade.
Vegeta held up the book he'd found, and firmly set it on the night table. "I don't know if you wanted me to read this or not, but who put that garbage in your head? Your brother?" he assumed by the Satan City Library stamp.
Goten stared at the book, then Vegeta, like a deer caught in headlights. "No, I didn't. And nobody, I asked him for it."
Vegeta covered his forehead in quiet seething. "You told him that about me."
"No way. I used the 'I have a friend who' story. Works every time," he assured him confidently.
"Is that really what you think?" The other Saiyan's voice was calm, though laced with ridicule. When he said nothing, he sighed impatiently. "Goten, that's all about humans. They have names for the damnedest things."
Goten's mouth tightened at his condescending tone. "Did you read it all?"
"Indeed. The first thing it covers is normal, and every army has a few wimps. The real specialists said so," Vegeta stated flatly.
"Where?" Goten challenged.
Vegeta picked up the book again and flipped through the pages, then stopped at one. "Here's an example. The soldier's personal doctor spoke to his Colonel: ['What boils down to weak moral fiber or poor leadership in a minority of soldiers must not be accepted as an excuse to not perform their patriotic duty. No soldier should be allowed to think that loss of nervous or mental control provides an honorable avenue of escape from the battlefield, and every endeavor should be made to prevent slight cases leaving the battalion or divisional area, where treatment should be confined to provision of rest and comfort for those who need it, and to heartening them to return to the front lines,'"] he read aloud.
Goten looked at the passage, and slumped. "That was 1935, in occupied Germany."
"So?"
"Bad example," Goten said quickly, turning to another page, "And it wasn't as well known back then. Look at the list of symptoms. Don't they all fit?"
Vegeta internally face-palmed. "Those could be anything! Last time I couldn't sleep, it was because I couldn't remember the name of the actress from that crazy film you made me watch. There you go, insomnia and memory loss."
"Angela Landsbury." Goten shot him a reproachful glance. "Guess I chose a dumb hiding place."
Vegeta's expression calmed. "I know you mean well. Just don't believe everything you hear."
"I hope it isn't that," Goten replied dejectedly, "That it will go away, or at least can be fixed somehow. I don't want you to be unhappy."
Vegeta sat down on the side of the bed and considered him. "Why can't I stay mad at you?" he asked rhetorically.
"Well… " Goten slowly wrapped his arms around his shoulders. "I could remind you."
"That isn't why I came in here," Vegeta objected, but didn't resist.
"No, but you can stay for it." Goten reached behind him to firmly lock the door, then trapped him still for a long kiss.
He'd almost forgotten how nice that felt. The rest of the house was asleep, he could tell, though he didn't trust either of them to wake up early enough for him to eclipse. Once again, he envied Kakarot's knowledge of Instant Transmission.
Guessing his concern, Goten programmed his phone alarm. "No worries, 'Geta. Come on, we deserve it."
Recalling his conversation (as it were) with Kitsune, Vegeta contemplated nature, of which they were an inextricable part. In Goten's company, the apprehended moral accusations and homosexual slurrs ceased to exist.
Against his better judgment, Vegeta said nothing when Goten shut off the light and reached for him. Too easily, he let himself drown in his lover's embrace. It would not bother him if he could opt to never or rarely resurface. It would not bother him at all.
-:-
First thing Monday morning, Goku arrived at Capsule Corp, true to his word as always. Trunks, the only one awake at such an hour, opened the door.
"Hey, Goku-san," he greeted sleepily but cheerfully, and led him in. "Can I get you a coffee or tea?" he offered.
"Nah, I'm fine, thanks," Goku declined, noticing Trunks' own half-empty coffee mug. "It doesn't seem to be doing you much good," he commented, "Didn't sleep much?"
"Not really," Trunks admitted behind a stifled yawn. Noticing Goku struggling to loosen his tie of the suit ChiChi had insisted he wear for his appointment with Trunks' tutor, the demi Saiyan grinned.
"Hang on." He reached up to fix the damage, and loosen Goku's tie in a way that still looked smart.
"Thanks," Goku bade him, glad to breathe normally again, "Maybe I was hung in another life."
Trunks snickered as he adjusted Goku's lapel. "It must have involved a noose and a needle, then."
"Don't say that!" Goku exclaimed, but also laughed. "Isn't your mom awake yet?"
"Probably getting Bra ready," he guessed, hesitating. "Thanks for your help. You really shouldn't, though."
"Of course I should," Goku replied, "You have enough work to do. I don't want you dealing with things like that."
Trunks noticed that his voice had softened, and looked up at him. Something in his expression made his heart knock at his ribs, and he felt giddy. Not finding his voice, he only offered a faint smile.
He was about to look away in embarrassment, but their gazes locked. Without meaning to, Goku reached down to smooth back a lock of his hair, which was incredibly soft. "Your hair's grown out a lot," he commented uselessly to cover the awkwardness, but both were still.
Trunks realized that his hands were still on Goku's shoulders, and he didn't want to remove them. There was no harm in indulging a secret thought.
Before he knew what was happening, Goku softly lifted his face, and moved closer. Their lips connected, first softly, then the kiss slowly deepened when Trunks' arms wound automatically around his neck. He was strong, sweet, and a great kisser, the demi Saiyan thought with elation, dying inside when Goku's strong arms encircled him to pull him close.
No, Trunks thought with dismay at feeling himself obediently harden at his warm contact. But Goku's body responded likewise, and Trunks lifted one knee to partially wrap around him, intensifying the friction. "I want you," he mumbled into his thick black hair.
"I know," Goku sighed heavily, and squeezed his shoulder. It was early. They were alone. The demi Saiyan wanted it badly. It would be so easy... too easy...
Goku had been troubled for a long time by his memories of his future double. Something to do with chemistry had drawn them together for a star-crossed liason, and the heaviness in their hearts at knowing they would never see each other again was accompanied by a certainty that it would always be there, regardless.
It wasn't fair, Goku thought with a pang of guilt; they were at once the same person, yet very different. He could not. Gently he pulled back. "I'm sorry, Trunks," he mumbled under his breath, "I don't know what I was thinking." Like hell he didn't.
"That was nice," Trunks replied as quietly, "It's okay." Do it again, his Saiyan genes censored, but he tried his best not to show his disappointment when Goku gingerly stepped back.
"Maybe I'll have a cup, after all," Goku added with a smile to cover his bewildered nerves.
"No problem." Understandingly, Trunks poured him a cup, and they sat down to change the subject. They spoke as though nothing had happened, waiting for Bulma to join them. As much as their plans were a drag, the results would be worth it, they agreed, and the conversation turned to humorous tales of the worst teachers ever.
"Nice to see you in good moods," Bulma commented pleasantly when she came in with Bra. She placed the small girl in her highchair and poured a cup for herself. "It's perfect, really," she added without any necessary modesty, "While you soften her up, we'll be toasting her." At that moment, the toaster popped out several piping hot slices. "Speaking of toast, it's ready."
-:-
Vegeta awoke just before sunrise so that he could sneak back to his own room. They'd changed into their pajamas during the night, as they never knew what to expect. He paused before shaking Goten's shoulder. At times, he looked so small in his sleep, and his hair was so messy from the night before, it looked more like Goku's now than his own.
The demi Saiyan awoke groggily, and Vegeta snuck a quick kiss to signal his exit. Unknown and unseen, they exchanged a secretive smile before Vegeta silently returned to his room.
We got this, Goten thought triumphantly, still smiling when he shut his eyes again.
His reverie was interrupted when Vegeta quickly snuck back in. "Forgot my slippers," he mumbled, before assuming a normal gait and stepping out again.
He almost bumped into Trunks, who was just about to knock. The purple-haired demi Saiyan shot him, then Goten an inquisitive look. "Your slippers?" he asked in confusion, forgetting his purpose.
"He borrowed them," Vegeta blew off, except that they'd visibly been placed neatly beside Goten's own pair.
Trunks studied them skeptically, not believing it this time. "Alright, what the hell is going on?" he asked in a lowered voice that did not suggest that it was much of a mystery.
"None of your damn business," Vegeta snapped, having had more than enough.
Trunks' eyes narrowed, but before he could speak, Goku appeared behind him with a firm hand on his shoulder.
"They were expecting me here shortly, Trunks," Goku told him confidently.
Trunks became confusedly subdued, but he cast a suspicious glare at his father and best friend, then Goku. His face turned colder than they'd ever seen directed at any of them before. "And I thought Mom was overreacting," he declared, bewildered, then turned on Goku. "Traitor!" he hissed at him, "Keep taking me for an idiot! You know what, don't bother talking to the bitch. It's nothing I can't handle, certainly without you!" then he stalked off.
I'd expect anything from THOSE two, his racing thoughts railed to himself, But Goku? I trusted him!
Concealing his pained look, quietly Goku closed the door to meet their frozen expressions, and watched them grimly for a moment. "It's a lot sooner than I thought, but can I assume you have a place to go?"
Both stared incredulously at him. "What?" they demanded in unison.
Goku turned to face the window, where the blue and pink aurora peeked around the edges of the curtains. "I knew about you guys since the beginning," he reluctantly told them, "What's important right now is your safety and peace in the family. But it doesn't look like both are possible."
Goten was shocked to pale silence, but Vegeta demanded, "You knew about what? And why are you defending us?"
Goku turned to face him. "If I thought you were taking advantage of him, I wouldn't. But I know you care for him, and it isn't gonna be easy."
"Kakarot, we don't need-" Vegeta began hautily, but sat back down and slumped. "What do you want?"
"I told you," Goku replied, "Just tell me if you have someplace to go."
Goten nodded hesitantly, but Vegeta declared angrily, "No worries, we're out of here. But we are not running away like a couple of cowards!"
"Never!" Goten agreed, his own anger catching up, "Before they start running off their mouths, first why don't they explain how they think they can stop us."
Vegeta nodded approvingly.
"I never said to run away," he clarified firmly, "But don't count on Trunks being quiet... I'll do what I can, but it's gonna be hell. I'm sorry."
Goten shook his head in confusion. "Wait, you're okay with it? Why would you be on our side?"
"Because you're my son and my best friend," Goku reminded them, in a voice that suggested he shouldn't need to. "I don't expect the others to understand me any more than you." He paused. "I meant that you knew the risks. I think you're prepared, and you should get your stuff ready for when the shit hits the fan."
Goten and Vegeta exchanged a wary glance, but neither spoke. It was one thing to know the risk of following one's heart, and quite another when staring down its proverbial barrel. The rug had been pulled out from beneath their feet, which they'd dreaded but didn't truly believe. Vegeta had more experience watching the world fall apart, Goten thought dryly, and he could really use some advice. They found themselves alone now with their backs to the wall, and Goku as their only ally. Goku, and a fox.
※※※
TBC in Chapter 6...
Soundtrack:
- Master of Puppets, Metallica
- Disposable Heroes, Metallica
- The Unforgiven 2, Metallica
- Painkiller, Three Days Grace
- Bird, Yuya Matsushita
- What I've Done, Linkin Park
A/N: That was a long-ass chapter... thank you for your patience, fearless readers! ^_^
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Goten No Sakura